Private Lok Down

[Gatz Derrevar]

Lok System, Outer Rim Territories​

---

The Red Night exited hyperspace with a shudder that ran throughout the metal deck of the ship. As the blinding streams of stars faded away, returning the ship to empty space with only the system's harsh red sun as a source of light, Gatz let himself settle in his seat with a sigh. Through the viewport in the cockpit, he could see their destination: the desert world of Lok, nearly depleted of all water, save for a few scarce rivers. It was probably the second most inhospitable, but habitable, world on the Outer Rim. Only Tatooine had it beat, as far as the young smuggler was concerned.

Look, Gatz really didn't want to make a run to Lok. Not only was it downright unbearable to be on, but it was also a pirate haven. Gatz had plenty of experience dealing with pirate worlds, but it was never a fun time. All it took was one drunk pirate to take something wrong, and he'd be dead, or his ship stolen. Or both. In the past, he'd only have braved coming to this world if his client was paying him an absurd amount, usually to ensure the delivery of a shipment of spice. Today, though, he was making chump change to bring medical supplies and rations to the few insane inhabitants of the world who lived there in spite of the pirate occupation.

He was doing a good thing, and knowing that made him feel better about the job. But in all honesty, he'd only accepted because the Doctor who'd hired him to transport her and her goods to the world was gorgeous, and he'd accepted while stunned and confused by her looks.

Yeah, he was going to get shot because a cute woman smiled at him and said "please."

With a sigh, Gatz opened the ship wide comm, "we're here, Doc. Come on up to the cockpit, if you would. I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you."

Mostly, they needed to talk about how they were going to sneak her supplies past the pirates, and what to do when things inevitably went south. Gatz had a few ideas, some of which he thought the good doctor wouldn't like, and wanted to hear her feedback.

---

Die Shize

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music OOC

​

She was a doctor, not an engineer, but this ship had a medical bay that was adequately equipped as she studied the instruments; all the fittings and equipment fitting for anyone or anything in medical need. Apparently the captain of the Red Night was an ace pilot, a smuggler too to boot, but his partner was just your average doctor looking for someone to help her move.

To a distant galaxy, maybe… The woman could hardly confess the thought any louder than a sigh as she stood by, idling time in the medical wing. As much as Jayrenel Metrum wanted to help the denizens and citizens of this galaxy, its chaos was often one step ahead of her, with death at every turn.

A voice came over the comm system just then. Jay was beckoned to the cockpit. Something about a few things to discuss with her. Oof. Hope he doesn’t plan on wooing me with his cheekbones. From what she had seen of the man on her way into the ship, however, he wasn’t that bad, and neither were his cheeks. Has a nice ass, at least.

“On my way,” Jay replied. A moment later and she entered the cockpit but she did not sit. The doctor stood, looking from the viewport to the pilot in the ship before that desert world. It was a hostile planet, more hell than hotel, with pirates as well, but neither would deter this doctor from seeing to the well-being of the planet’s inhabitants.

Closer to her, well, Gatz Derrevar was indeed a looker. Yet, the doctor wasn’t as interested in his looks as she was in what he offered her endeavor. “I’m a trader, not a doctor. You’re my bodyguard.” Jay looked him up and down. “Young but tough enough.”

She shrugged. “These pirates won’t care much about healthcare or for what supplies we have unless they’re worth something. I’m sure you’re transporting more than my supply of licensed drugs.”

Thinking, twirling a silver pen between her fingers. “Then again, I’m better at healing than I am at pretending to be a smuggler.” Jay winked. “What’s your idea, sweets?”

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Maerae Verdan]

(OOC: That moment when you reply on the wrong subaccount.)

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Doctor Metrum whisked into the cockpit, and Gatz spun around in his chair. They had a few minutes before they were close enough for any surface scans to detect them, and so the once-smuggler felt comfortable with letting the ship cruise toward the planet on it's own. So long as he took control of the yoke again before they hit atmo, they had nothing to worry about. Unless the pirates had snub fighters hiding where his radar wouldn't ping them.

Well, he liked to live a little dangerously anyhow.

Jay's idea wasn't half bad, him being a bodyguard and her a trader. On Nar Shaddaa, where there was still some form of rule of law, and the population was too dense for the locals to know him by name, that facade would have worked just fine. Unfortunately, Gatz was all too well acquainted with Lok, and whose crew ran out here.

"I'm afraid that won't work," Gatz offered an apologetic smile, "the local pirates know me and my ship, unfortunately. I used to run odd jobs for them, back when I did that sort of thing."

Jay also asked if he had something valuable on his ship, cargo and the like. A few months ago, the answer would have been yes. Now though... now he'd turned over a new leaf, and the restricted and illegal goods that once decorated his cargo hold like permanent fixtures were long gone. All he had on board was what Jay had brought with her, plus a single crate containing items he hoped would get them past the pirates without any blasters going off.

"And I don't haul spice anymore, if that's what you were implying," and now for the awkward part, "but I do have something more valuable on board than your medical supplies: you."

Gatz grabbed a datapad off the empty seat behind the pilot's chair, and tossed it to her. On it was a single image of a Quarren, white skinned and missing half of his lower left facial tentacle. He was dressed rather well, in an elegant shirt, and seemed to be perched over some sort of table.

"His name is Kragan Garr," Gatz explained, "he's in charge of the local pirate band, who run the shabby excuse of a space port we're about to land at. And they're not exactly friendly. They'll rob any freighter that draws near, take anything that they can sell for even a handful of credits. But, they deal in spice and slaves in particular. Luckily, Kragan's boys know this ship. They'll let us land, assuming I'm here to offload some spice from Hutt Space."

Except he had none.

"But like I said... I don't do that sort of thing anymore. So the only way I'm going to keep his goons from ransacking my ship and stealing your goods, is to convince them I do have something on board for Kragan. And that's the part you're not going to like: I need you to play the part of a new slave, someone I'm bringing to audition to be his new dancer."

---

Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music OOC

​

Jay wasn’t perturbed that her idea didn’t work. It was given teasingly more than anything. More importantly, she would ultimately play any part that served her purpose. She didn’t know much about this smuggler, except that evidently Gatz Derravar was nobler than he used to be. Whatever information on him she lacked, the League had backed him up on his reputation, at least.

Fortunately, the man had something more valuable than spice or medical supplies, though the woman had to blink twice when he mentioned her and looked her square in the eyes. “Me..?” She was almost too surprised to catch the datapad but her reaction time was as precise as a surgeon’s.

Quarren. Jay grimaced. She wasn’t racist but she hated the taste of squid and this race’s faces reminded her of her last plate that came out the wrong way. Kragan Garr. She committed the face and name to memory even as she gazed at the pad. As Gatz finished his speech, she blinked, eyes into eyes. Fufu..?

“A whozitwotzit now?” Jay cocked a brow that was as loud as a rock concert. “Dancer? Slave?” This guy knows I’m a doctor, right? “Let me get this straight…” Trailing off, she drummed her fingernails on the pale Quarren’s one-tentacle-short-of-a-full-face. “...You want me to play some slag for the sake of getting my medical supplies past these guys without being whacked?” Whether he gave her a nod or words as a response, she sighed. This wasn’t the part I had in mind…but it will suffice. “All right. Fine.”

In hindsight, this would get her closer to the pirates, bringing her behind their lines, leading further to discovering their numbers, what they were like, while relaying ways for Gatz to navigate and everything through a comlink tiny enough to fit by her eardrum.

It was a suggestion that meant placing Jay’s trust in a man who she had only just met in person, despite his reputation. Then again, she reckoned the danger was worth it. Keep the pirates distracted. Smuggler brings in the supplies from behind. Save the town. Shut the brigands’ operation down. Maybe that was a reach, but she didn’t intend to leave this planet empty-handed, whatever that meant.

“But how do you propose on getting me out?” Calling for RTL reinforcements was not the best option given the circumstances. They didn’t want to raise suspicion throughout the quadrant.

“Also, I’ll be keeping a blaster on my thigh at the very least.” With that, Jay looked at her clothes, and suddenly they were too unrevealing. “Don’t suppose you have a wardrobe?”

It wasn’t a sarcastic question. A half-slit dress, perhaps? She shouldn’t look like a civilian, neither a whore nor a stripper, but a performer whose name wasn’t Jayrenel Metrum. Just then, she suddenly remembered her other name: Jay Mayhem.

It was an instant, a moment, as the woman stared off into the distance, beyond the cockpit, upon the planet, but saw past it.

Mayhem… It was an accident. I didn’t mean it. I’m not an alcoholic but I was drinking. I was stupid. Bad day, bad night. Wrong place, wrong time. Should have stayed away from that place. Acted like I hated you guys, but I love you guys, a community that knows how to write, rhyme, survive, thrive… I screwed you over, screwed them over too, but forgive me…please…

Jay blinked herself out of that moment, that memory, but she knew they could hear her, for better or worse. She gave Gatz her gaze, and waited for him.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Honestly, Gatz hadn't expected the good doctor to agree to his plan so easily. He'd thought he'd have to talk her through the idea, because in truth, not only was it degrading to ask of her, but it was also extremely dangerous. She'd basically be up close and personal with the pirates in question, and they would be a lot less hesitant to lay a hand on her than they were with him. Still, he supposed that with her easy acceptance of the plan, she must have already considered the danger involved.

"I'm asking you to dance and show some skin for men I'd much prefer to shoot," Gatz admitted, "but there are a lot more of them than me. A firefight would be suicide for us both."

"But how do you propose on getting me out?"

A very fair question, and one that Gatz had considered for most of their trip through hyperspace. It was a tricky detail, but one that the young smuggler thought he had squared away. Jay's priority might have been on helping the people of Lok, but his priority was keeping her alive to the best of his ability. For one, he wouldn't get paid if she died. But, mostly, he didn't want an innocent woman, especially a philanthropist like Doctor Metrum, to wind up as just another casualty of Kragan Garr.

"That depends," Gatz explained, "the audition takes place at the local cantina. It'll be packed with Kragan's goons, as well as other girls trying to get the part. The way Kragan's auditions usually work is if they don't choose you to be his new dancer, then they'll escort you back to my ship. But... that would give me a lot less time to sneak your goods out of the spaceport. If they do like you, they'll take you back to Kragan's mansion, and have you perform for him personally. Then Kragan will ask me to come out to the mansion to collect my payment. I won't lie and tell you'd it'll be easy to sneak you out of his home, but it would give me a lot more time to move your goods."

He understood Jay's desire to be armed. Agreed with it, even. Gatz just didn't know how to go about concealing a weapon on her. She seemed to understand that she was going to need a change of clothes, but... she didn't quite seem to grasp how few places she was going to have to hide anything. Lok wasn't exactly a classy place, and Kragan and his boys didn't exactly like conserative clothing.

"I've already got the outfit covered," Gatz said uneasily, "and I agree with you staying armed. But, uh, I don't think you'll be able to keep a blaster on your thigh. I- you should come and look at it for yourself."

Gatz walked out of the cockpit, past the crew quarters, and climbed down the ladder into the cargo bay. Most of the crates down here were Jay's, but there was one crate that wasn't part of her shipment. He approached this crate, and pushed the top off. Reaching into it with both hands, he first pulled out a pair of simple strapped sandals.

Then came the dress. It was a bland but revealing article. It was cut from simple, but thin, white cloth and had small straps that would simply rest on the shoulders. It was nearly backless, with a neckline that plunged dangerously low. It fell to what Gatz thought would be roughly mid-calf, but a large slit had been cut on both sides of the dress, running all the way from the hem to the hip.

"If you're gonna hide a blaster in here, I wouldn't go any bigger than a hold-out pistol. They'll see it on your thigh... but maybe you could hide it under the front or back of the skirt?"

---

Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music OOC

​

Honestly, Jay had been stuck in a crust-in-the-brain faze as though she had been drunk.
This woman was not immune to a few drinks, but she had none, so it was just dumb luck.
Rambling as she had—internal monologuing, that was—about a bunch of this and of that.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat, thoughts, memories, taking a backseat just as Gatz’s words bring Jay back.

Too late for Jay to back out now anyhow, her name on the plate, yet she did know of danger.
This wouldn’t be her first rodeo with pirates and the like, despite her being no Sector Ranger.
Oh, she would bring a blaster into the fight, but for now her mind was on ‘die’ and on ‘suicide’.
She had no idea on the extent of the pirates, though her partner did—provided he was her ally.

In this business, it could be difficult to distinguish friend from foe so, quid pro quo, you just didn’t.
Nothing else mattered save for getting something for something. Jay knew it to just be business.
Jay’s was to bring a shipment of medical supplies to the gals and guys who were in need of it.
Gatz’ piece in the pie, the part he played, was getting paid; nice slice of credits if he’s smart.

So far, he seemed to be when it came to outplaying Krogan Garr. For as long as I play the tart.
The part wasn’t beneath her by any means, and Jay had to get desperate to save the desperate.
Dance, show some skin, advance to mansion, get the goods in, keep business and pleasure separate.
An overly adventurous girl, some would call her, Jay Mayhem, but they could eat their own hearts.

Jay cocked a brow as her accomplice-in-the-minute all but twitched about the woman’s outfit.
No blaster on my thigh, hey? Didn’t sound right. Out the cockpit, to the cargo bay, to the crate.
Sandals, dress, white, shoulder straps, no back, no neck, cleavage, both thighs sporting a slit.
Sexy. The woman thought, didn’t speak. The dress was precisely what it needed to be for Jay.

“Two sides to the thigh, my guy.” Doctor patted her inner thigh, opposite the adductor brevis.
“I’ll have this pretty thin white garment covering my front and backside as well as the inside.”
A holdout pistol strapped to her left leg, facing her right leg, would shy away from the gap.
Tilting her head side to side, studying her garment, Jay grabbed it. “Not that bad, Gatz.”

Left, right, move the eyes of Jay.
“Am I changing in the cargo bay?”
Too soon for him to sneak a peek.
Play the part, Jay. Hard. Not easy.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

For all his expertise in smuggling, for all his experience in hiding things in plain sight, Gatz hadn't thought about strapping a blaster to the inside of the thigh. Either he was getting rusty, or he'd never been that good in the first place. He immediately rejected the latter notion: his ego couldn't take the hit right now. So it had to be because he'd been out of the scoundrel game for awhile.

Jay seemed far less perturbed by his selection of clothing that he thought she'd be. In fact, she almost seemed to approve of it, but that was probably his typically male mind imagining that. But that mind was also exactly why he'd chosen such a skimpy outfit in the first place. She wasn't here to sing on stage for the aristocratic elite, or to give a speech at a gala. She was here to, ostensibly, seduce absolute scum.

As much as he might have wanted to see Jay in that outfit, Gatz couldn't help but dislike this plan. He was asking her—a stranger—to take a huge risk. Yes, she was going in armed, but what was one woman with a holdout blaster compared to small army of mercenaries and thugs? Hell, he couldn't have taken on Kragan's men. How was he supposed to put her in a position where she might have to?

But then, she wasn't supposed to, was she? If she failed to please Kragan's men with her skills, then she wouldn't be brought before Kragan. And if she wasn't brought before Kragan, then he wouldn't have enough time to move her goods before the Quarren's goons brought her back to him. Wouldn't matter what guns they had if that happened. They'd both be shot dead.

Fun thought, that.

"There are four different small bunk rooms on the ship," Gatz nodded back in the direction they came from, "we walked past them on the way down. You can change in whichever one you'd like."

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music OOC

​

In hindsight, strapping a blaster onto her inner thigh did seem like a good idea at the time.
After all, others would observe only the outside of her legs, as her inner thighs would hide.
Then, when Jay gazed at the dress after she stepped from Gatz’ presence, she blinked twice.
Garment spread out on the bed, she sized it up, realized the extent of the slits on either thigh.

Oh my… If the doctor who risked her ass, boobs too, did not appreciate danger, she did now.
Sometimes you got in over your head so high you couldn’t see the situation from the inside.
Outside, your focus zeroed in on the reason for the mission, not the mission: to save lives.
I’m going to die... Here she was, Dr. Jayrenel Metrum, signed up to tease a villainous crowd.

You can do this. She promised, stretching out her ‘garment’ in a bunk room of the starship.
It wasn’t even hers, it was his: some smuggler turned savior, assuming she could trust him.
Too late to turn back now... She lied, adventure beating as a heartbeat. You’ve done this before.
In a sense, at best, when her neck and life on the line meant the lives of the old and newborn.

Blinking away the memories, Jay Mayhem hung the scanty dress before her, from neck to knee.
From the shoulder to the calf, specifically, whose strap met that hem at that base further away.
Some memories can’t be burned away, Jay. Just like those city streets. They are already paved...
The woman lifted her chest, held her breath, slipped on the dress, breathed out, and blinked.

There, in the mirror, some other person was looking back at her; blonde hair falling to shoulders.
She was a doctor—playing a stripper of a dancer was beneath Jay Metrum. But not Jay Mayhem.
She watched her, one woman watching the other, blue eyes like oceans, her red lips spread.
She wore the dress, the sandals, the earrings, the makeup. She had the courage and curves.

Still as nervous as a bantha in a bacta bath. Jay snickered while flattening her fabric with her hand.
Bland, basic, no satin, but revealing, with a V on the chest that exposed the outline of her breasts.
Beneath it and wrapped around her belly was a sash, and trailing below was where the dress split.
Legs as bare as arms but subtly, seductively, dress split at limb, giving skin, nibbling up to her hips.

You are a doctor. Jay reminded her. You’re just pretending to be a dancer.
Brushing hair back, pacing away from mirror for the door, she opened it.
Licking her lips, crimson lipstick, she slipped one hand beneath her fabrics.
The small holdout blaster disappeared between her thighs, above her hips.

Below the sash and upon her stomach, where it was both strapped and hidden.
“Well?” Jay gazed at Gatz standing at the doorway, his thoughts an easy guess.
“How do I look?” She stood arms at hips, waist tilted, legs spread amid her dress.
She felt confident before her accomplice, yet as fragile as a bunny. A white rabbit.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

Gatz barely noticed Jay leave, having turned his attention to her medical supplies. While she played her part—a part she most certainly didn't want to play, a part that was incredibly dangerous—he was left with distributing her goods to the right people. He had the easy part, and that smoldered in him. He was sending Jay into uncertainty, all to give himself some breathing room.

And the worst part was that he had to do it, if he was to fulfill her request.

Fine, he could accept that. There was nothing to be gain by agonizing over it. Now, while she was getting ready and the ship was slowly approaching the planet, was the time to brainstorm. He had to unload these as quick as he possibly could. In a perfect world, he could get it done even if she wasn't selected to dance for Kragan. Maybe... maybe he could grease a few palms to help out? Not everyone on Lok was scum looking out for themselves.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jay, as she walked back into the cargo bay. Gatz turned to look at her, and it was a physical effort to keep from whistling. Jay... looked good. Really good. Still, he gave her once look, and then locked eyes with her. There were going to be enough men ogling her today, he didn't need to add to that.

"I wish you were my doctor," jokes were still on the table though, "you definitely look the part. Uh, I mean that in a good way. Not in a way that means I think you should be a crime lord's personal dancer."

He was usually better at this. Really. It must have been the stress of the situation throwing him off of his game.

"But on that topic... you look like a convincing dancer. Can you actually dance though?"

Kriff... he hadn't even thought of that until now. She was a doctor! Not a back alley entertainer! What was he thinking?

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music OOC

​

Gatz had barely noticed Jay leave, having turned his attention to her medical supplies.
Had Jay been granted a trip back to the past, she’d have served some sentimental time.
She played her part—a part she most certainly didn’t intend to play—but such was space.
Time, space, spacetime; leave the science beyond the biologists, a doctor had just one guy.

And the worst part was that she had to do it, if she was to trust in him.

Fine, she could accept that—and her scantily clad figure, her dress that all but beckoned sex.
What, who was she to lie? The best bedside manner of a doctor was to tell you the hard truth.
Was it the same for a smuggler? A woman wondered, locked eyes with him, dared him to blink.
He wished she was his doctor. Honey...you need surgery... Jay only gave her lips for him to drink.

Gatz’s reaction, however, was everything she needed given that she had no qualified spectator.
If she was going to pull off this outfit then she needed a man to imagine her in a bedchamber.
A mirror could work wonders on a woman—but it could just as much prove to be her disaster.
Trailing fingers up her thigh, straightening her garment, Jay grinned. I’m no slave. I am Master.

At least, she hoped to be, when it came to dancing.
“My hands aren’t limited to band-aids, or to stitches.”
She shrugged. “Neither are my hips. They can swing.”
Did he need a demonstration? “Want to put on music?”

Jay wasn’t opposed to it. Practice did make perfect, after all.
It was up to her partner, in the end, provided he didn’t fall.
Men. A word, a thought. Human. Quarren. No different.
They were all the same in the end. I need a cigarette.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

"No! That's fine!" Gatz spoke all too quickly, "you don't have to prove it for me. I'll take you at your word."

He was already asking far too much from her. The least he could do is allow her some of her dignity while she was still on his ship, where no one expected her to be anything but a doctor. And while a small part of him definitely appreciated the dress, most of him was still trying to work all the angles of this plan, to see if maybe there was a way to accomplish what they needed without sending Jay into a den of scum and villany.

But dammit, he was coming up short.

"Did you... manage to hide your blaster?"

He couldn't see the weapon poking out from anywhere, and he was starting to worry that she'd decided to leave it behind. That wasn't an idea he liked, nor a plan he would agree to. If he was sending her into certain danger, then she needed to be armed. Plain and simple. If he had to choose, he'd rather she blow their cover by shooting some nerfherder who got too grabby, than properly deliver her supplies.

Unfortunately, he suspected those supplies were far more important to her than they were to him.

Gatz was starting to wish he'd invested in a droid or two for helping him handle cargo. He didn't particularly need one, but it would have come in handy in this instance. Help him unload faster, and if nothing else, it was an extra body to soak up blaster fire. But there was no point in wasting time by thinking about what could have been.

He needed to work within the parameters he already had. And simply put: he'd just have to bust his ass, double time it, and hope he could finish before Jay's audition was over.

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music OOC (Recurring)

​

Gatz had declined her offer for a round of demonstrating her dancing, turning her down, to which she smiled instead of frowned. Some other time, I guess. He had yet passed the test when it came to men. Then again, despite how lives were at stake, at least this much was fun and games; a woman had to be brave as much as know how to roleplay.

This wasn’t her first rodeo, and the fact was that Dr. Metrum had to become the dancing, teasing seductress before she left this ship, not after. There was ever the risk of having her cover blown, eyes seeing through her lies and disguise. Teasing seductress? Jay bit her lip. You need some new material, girl. Thin dress barely covering breasts and all.

She patted her stomach at his question given her weapon was not on her thigh, bare back or on her ass. “Behind the sash.” The blaster was holstered to her bare skin, specifically, beneath the whole garment. It would be easy to reach from top or bottom: slipping fingers between her cleavage at the V or from either slit at her hip, squeeze the handle, and blast away into somebody’s face.

If it came to that, anyway. With that, Jay stepped forward, heeled sandals -click-clacking- across the floor. Adjusting her earring and earpiece for communicating, the woman crossed her arms and slipped her gaze into the man’s own two blue eyes as if to dig into his mind.

“I’m gonna need a name.” An alias to help keep her real name away. “Think ‘Violet’ sounds okay or too cliche?”

It was trivial, sure, but would help sell her act. Purple was also her favorite color even though none of it was on her person, just white material from neckline to thigh.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

Gatz watched the good doctor pat her stomach, and realized just how well hidden of a spot she'd chosen. He hadn't even considered that her weapon might be hidden under the bulk of the sash. It was easily accessible too, considering how the dress was... unfortunately cut. Yet, she had actually turned that to her advantage. Crafty.

Then again, she was a doctor. They usually had a higher than average intellect. At the very least, she was a lot smarter than he was.

"Good thinking," Gatz nodded in approval, "I might turn you into a proper scoundrel yet. Come on, I still have to bring us in for a landing."

He started to walk back towards the cockpit, and canted an ear when Jay asked what her stage name should be. In all honesty, Gatz really didn't have much experience with that sort of thing. Oh, he frequented slimy cantinas often, but he'd... never browsed the services they offered, outside of drinks. He preferred to flirt with the bartender, or the waitress, and about every one in a hundred girls turned out to actually be interested in him.

But the kinds of women that were paid to do this sort of thing, or were enslaved to do it? He had no idea what they called themselves.

"It might be cliché, but I don't see any reason why that'd be a problem. We're talking about criminals here, not classy folk. And I don't think they'll be focused on your name anyhow."

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music OOC (Recurring)

​

Violet. Lavender. Amethyst? There was purple in any of those three. What were women like her called when it came to the stage? Beatrix. Candy. Cinnamon. She rolls her eyes while she thinks and Gatz speaks. Lola. Lotus. Minx.

“Nope.” He had a point about where these thugs’ gazes would be pointing. They’d obviously be focusing their attention on her bosom, buttocks and everything between and beneath the fabrics of her outfit. “But it sets the tone.”

Cherry. Destiny. Bambi. The lady grimaced. The woman, that is. There was a difference depending on one’s perspective. “Mmkay. Violet it is.” There was a ring and a rhyme to it, especially if she ended up erupting in violence.

In the cockpit, Violet took the copilot’s seat, crossing one leg over the other, gawking at her thigh, her knee. Should I get a tattoo? She dismissed the idea. Violet might like it. Jayrenel Metrum, on the other hand, defied it. But what about Jay Mayhem?

She denied the thought, glad it wasn’t out loud, and moved on. Well aware that the slit in her dress offered the only man in the ship a view to remove his eyes from the consoles, she wasn’t trying to control him so much as practice with feminine wit. If I have it. Then again, Jay couldn’t help but play.

“Red Night, huh?” She drummed a finger on her lip toward the starship. “That the name of your favorite stripclub or what?”

Whatever his response, she would move on. "Got tunes?" Maybe they would arrive in a minute, in a scene skip, but she didn't feel like flying in silence. After all, it wasn't as if Violet already had music to listen to amid these four walls...was it?

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

"My father named the ship, actually," Gatz said wistfully, "it was his before it was mine. He's... gone now."

Shot over a fistful of credits. And Ignoble end for a good man, just trying to support his family. On some days, Gatz was still furious over that, even six years after it had happened. But he couldn't focus on that right now. He had a job to do, and a doctor's safety to ensure. He could angst over the past later, once they were both back onboard and far away from Lok.

"Yeah, there's a radio. Pick something."

Gatz brought The Red Night into atmosphere, and much like with any ship shaped like a brick without wings, she became much more difficult to handle. It made no difference in his hands though. Gatz had flown this ship for six years, and he knew its every shudder and bump. The air exploded into fire in front of them, as the speed of dynamic reentry superheated the air in front of the ship.

The flame harmlessly trailed along the ship's shields, lacking both the energy and the mass to do any real damage. And then they crested down to the settlement below, at much slower speeds of course, a scattering of old metal buildings, with the exception of one opulent looking mansion that didn't fit the rest of the town.

Kragan Garr's mansion. Somewhere Gatz was hoping Jay wouldn't gain entry to, despite that being almost necessary to their plan. He had to come up with a way to offload faster. Sending her in there... he couldn't ensure her safety at that mansion. At least, at the tryouts at the cantina, he could waltz in and shoot all of Kragan's goons if he had to save her.

Well, actually, he'd just get them both killed that way. But at least they'd have a chance to escape.

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music

​

There’s a radio. Came an echo. Pick something. So, at her partner’s behest, Jay did nothing less. The music was kinda creepy at first, sounded like a Sith stuck in some matrix amid the lyrics, with deep beats, electronic drum and bass, chronic tonic pumping in the brain, thumping away, pounding, loudly, drowning, drums drawn in the resemblance of a run-on sentence but who gives a kriff.

Whatever that means. Jay blinked, thinking outside her head, relaxing in the cockpit, in her seat, not focused on her outfit now so much as the man beside her. Then again, not on him, but on his words, how they resounded, and what they meant. Loud as synth strings wrapped around a woman trapped in an endless dream. They burned.

He’s…gone now… The woman licked her lips, gaze yonder before the viewport, into naked space, as empty as a grave with no father. Red Night. The doctor reflected. Suddenly the name sounded less like a red light district to Violet and more like a ship worth its paint to Jay. “All right...”

Her words might have echoed in a cavern, but the freighter’s cockpit was not so hollow as she smiled. The woman’s lipsticked lips spread from atmosphere to planet, above the clouds, and touchdown, past the dilapidated buildings toward the mansion, advancing deeper into the dichotomy.

Medicine. That was the doctor’s gift. You’re here to save lives, Jay. The woman reminded herself. Even if Violet has to play. She sighed. The woman would be the distraction for the man to get in. Failing that?

Jayrenel Metrum shrugged at the entrance to the mansion. Sure, this wasn’t her first rodeo, but she had no hopes of being sold like cargo. She had some tricks up her sleeves that even her partner didn’t know.

“Guards.” Violet nudged her companion with her elbow. Two Rodians with a Bothan between them. No Quarren. “Remember my name. It isn’t Jay.” Yet she wasn’t a slave per se. There was no collar atop her shoulders.

Rather, Violet would stand up straight, she would gaze, daring one of these idiots to spy into her eye. She would keep quiet, submissive if independent, sly, arms resting at sides, didn’t twitch beside her hips and the slits in her dress.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

Lok was an arid planet. That was obvious as soon as they exited the ship, the world's dry heat blasting them in the face. Gatz, who had grown up on the lush Naboo, hated hot weather. On his homeworld, as soon as it started to get even a little warm, the denizens would flock to the beautiful rivers and lakes that spanned the planet.

Lok had barely any water. And what little it did had to be used for drinking. Gatz couldn't understand why anyone would willingly live on this world.

Jay nudged him, pointing out the guards approaching them, and reminded him of her persona. Gatz just shook his head. This was far from his first rodeo, but he opted to humor the good doctor and keep his mouth shut. Considering what he was asking her to do... well, he wouldn't give her a hard time about telling a criminal how to act like a criminal.

"Gentleman," Gatz smiled as Kragan's men approached, "good to see you. Gatz Derrevar, one of Kragan's usual transporters."

"Haven't heard from you in some time," one of the Rodians mentioned, "thought you'd gone and gotten yourself killed."

"Tried to retire, actually," Gatz's smile turned into a smirk, "and then ran out of money. Realized what a dumb idea that was."

"Must have been real desperate," the Bothan narrowed his eyes at Gatz, "I remember you, Derrevar. You never hauled flesh. Only spice."

"Never needed the money from the slave game before," Gatz felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck, "but what Kragan offers for girls... too much to just pass up."

He was silent then, waiting for a response. Dammit. Gatz had really hoped he wouldn't run into anyone who recognized him. Now that they had though, these men were going to be suspicious of them.

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music (Recurring)

​

Good thing Violet was in the dress she was in given the conditions of this planet. It was breathable and so were her garments from legs to breasts amid an arid climate. Then again, a few beads of sweat would probably do her performance some justice.

‘Gentlemen’, Gatz intro’d as the dirtbag patrol approached. Violet stayed silent as her partner did the talking. Apparently the smuggler with a heart of gold was an old soul to more than one of these bouncers. Glad I’m not the only one sweating at least.

The Bothan cocked a brow at how Gatz Derrevar had a change of heart in labor. Then again, to Jay, some people changed from bad to worse in a heartbeat if it was in the name of profit and in the game of being dishonest, or some such nonsense.

Sugar, spice and everything nice. Holy roly-poly I need some kriffin’ ice.

“So you’ve found yourself down on your luck.” The Bothan shrugged. “It happens.” He rubbed his chin, offering nothing of being convinced. “But for all I know this little miss you’ve come with is a Sith.” He grinned.

Violet felt all eyes on her in that moment. Here we go.

“Can you dance, lass?” A Rodian asked, gazing at her hips as if he could see past them and at her ass.

“I can,” Violet replied. “If your master permits it outside of his presence, that is.” She didn’t speak feebly, just simply.

“Master, huh? That a fact?” The Bothan retorted. “We’ll see about that..." He snorted. "Normally I’d buy you right now, sweets, but I gotta make sure nothing’s...” He leered to that one spot between a woman's legs. "...Fishy..." He snapped his fingers. “Gatz. You’ll tag along with us into the mansion where we can discuss…payment…capisce?”

Violet blinked. She wasn’t the criminal here. Did that mean they were about to be fed to the fishes? Either way, Gatz would be a bit delayed with hopping back on his ship and dropping off the medical supplies to those who needed it. It is what it is… Jay grimaced. Inside, that is. Outside, she smiled in crimson lipstick.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

Dammit. They were suspicious. Maybe that was his fault: he'd always vehemently denied jobs that required him to haul slaves. He'd smuggled a lot of things over his six year tenure as a smuggler, spice most of all, but never people. Well, he's smuggled refugees off war torn worlds, but that was different. He'd never had a piece of the slave trade, and he never would.

"Fine," Gatz said, "I'll tag along. But no touching the merchandise. If Kreth finds out you've put a finger on her before he does, he'll tell his father. And you should know better than I what Kragan will do to anyone who vandalizes his property."

The Bothan growled, but offered no argument. He turned to lead them to the manor, and the other two thugs flanked Gatz and "Violet' on either side. All the while, Gatz was brainstorming how to get out of this situation. He needed to unload his ship, and the more time it took to do that, the more likely it was that Kragan would actually get his hands on Jay. He couldn't allow that.

Gatz still didn't know how, but he'd have to get out, deliver her shit, and get back in before Kreth had finished auditioning the girls. Kreth was terrible, but not as terrible as his father. If Gatz had to pick one of them to throw Jay at—and he really didn't want to—it would be Kreth. The younger Quarren didn't have his father's sadism streak, even if he did have his own terrible vices.

They were led to the courtyard of Kragan's mansion. It was nothing to write home about: this was Lok, after all. Just a few sandstone pillars and a dead tree in the center, both worn by time and sand. A few stragglers prowled the grounds at this late hour, most of them guests of Kragan, or servants going about their duties.

If Gatz wasn't quick, Jay would be added to their roster.

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum