Private Lok Down

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music IC

​

Words were a blur in Jay’s brain as she navigated her way forward, trying to tune her focus away from her audience amid the music’s hard, deranged, dark waves.

Funny, considering how confident she was back on that starship. Now? Her heartbeat was quickening, beads of sweat a mixture of heat and nervousness. Kriff. What are you doing here, Jay?

It felt right to have Gatz beside her but, no, he needed to be in his ship dropping off the supplies. Was this a bad idea to begin with? She sighed. You’ve done this before, Jay. Just without the guise of ‘Violet’. Jay was inside. Outside, Violet was surrounded by men and women, different species, other Humans but not her Quarren. She checked her breath. Where’s Kreth?

“Wine?” A scantily clad Twi’lek approached both Gatz and Violet with a tray.

“Move along.” The Bothan interrupted, dismissing the server without so much as a thank you. Rude. “You.” He pointed at Jay. Violet. Don’t forget. “Kreth will be here shortly. He’s permitted me to have you perform a warm-up dance.” He held up a hand in the event Gatz butted in. “A short performance at the tree to make sure you’re worth his payment and attention. If I like what I see, Blondie gets paid, goes away and you’re here for the party, capisce?"

Violet took another look around at the criminal elements, guests and servants and even some other dancers. It made sense. This might work in our favor. Parties tended to be pretty lengthy which meant she might have more time to keep everyone distracted while her partner worked his magic.

“Whaddya say?” The Bothan grinned. Violet wasn’t sure if his gesture indicated he would not take ‘no’ for an answer. Whatever the case, she gazed Gatz’s way, indicating she was ready to get on with it, but it was up to him. Maybe he could just offer a smaller figure without having to wait for Violet to demonstrate?

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

This was still a problem. Gatz didn't want to leave Jay at the mercy of Kragan and Kreth's scum, but he needed to be back on the landing pad, unloading her medical goods. He had to come up with a reason to leave, but these criminals weren't the kind to accept any form of resistance without violent retaliation. Unless he made the brain dead decision of shooting his way out of this one, he was stuck.

A server approached them with a drink, and Gatz decided that his addled nerves sorely needed one. Too bad the Bothan immediately dismissed her, in a way that made something in Gatz seethe. This was a woman, not livestock. But then... to Kragan and his men, livestock was exactly what women were. Why had he ever worked for this man?

Credits. Every smuggler's weakness.

The Bothan changed the deal on them, insisting that Jay give a performance right here in the courtyard, and that he stay for the party. Gatz almost argued, but it was pretty clear that the man wasn't asking. These goons never did. Plus... parties lasted hours. If he could slip out of the party unnoticed, that'd be more than enough time to clear his cargo bay.

But it meant leaving Jay here, for much longer than either of them had originally intended, or agreed upon.

"Deal," Gatz held out a hand to the Bothan, "but I'll need certain reassurances that my dancer goes unharmed. Kreth has a... reputation, and I'm sure you're more aware of that than I am."

There was no logic to this angle. Even if he was given Kreth's word that Jay would be fine, the Quarren was a bastard and certainly wasn't above lying. Even so, this was something that Gatz needed. And he hoped that, maybe, it would reassure "Violet" a little too.

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Current Outfit

Spoiler: Music IC (Recurring)

​

Well, so much for offering a discounted price to this Bothan guy to lessen the wait time.
Then again, by the look in the scumbag’s eye, he might not have wanted to pass it up.
Not a markdown, rather getting a demonstration from this woman and for his master.
Gatz at her side, Violet gazed his way, eyes into eyes, though she could only wonder.

Thinking back, remembering what Gatz had said earlier in his starship, Red Night.
If a girl wasn’t chosen in the audition then she is sent back to the ship. Otherwise?
If the host liked the guest then she went to the mansion for a personal performance.
Wait a sec. This is different. Changed the damn deal. What happened was not planned.

Gatz had mentioned he would be asked to come back to the mansion for his payment.
As in if Kreth decided she is worth keeping then Gatz would return and in turn free her.
If he got paid now, went about dropping those supplies, he’d have no reason to return.
Jay resisted the urge to sigh out her sudden concern. This sure was not their intention.

“Deal,” Gatz said by Violet’s steady breath. Don’t fret, girl. You ain’t new to this world.
She wasn’t, whatever that meant in this scenario. As said, this wasn’t her first rodeo.
“Oh, I know of his reputation,” the Bothan grinned. “No harm. Just a demonstration.”
He crossed his arms, nodding Jay’s way. “To make sure she is worth his attention..."

Dead tree in the distance. “I like her, you can go play in the shade. And as for Kreth…”
He trailed off. “...If he likes her then you come back and get paid...” Jay breathed relief.
Sounded like the Bothan didn’t even want the smuggler to be hanging around, maybe?
They didn’t really get along. However long the party is, Gatz wasn’t invited? Made sense.

There was no more delay while the music shifted.
That tree was suddenly illuminated in a violet light.
“You…don’t have much purple on you for a Violet...”
Violet smiled, lifted her hand and a ring of amethyst.

Spoiler: Music IC

​

There wasn’t much to say about the tree. Maybe that was the point of this twisted circus.
It was the woman that had everyone’s gaze. One woman. Not Jay. Her name was Violet.
Bathed in the light like she’s on a stage. Blue eyes look side to side. All eyes are on her.
She breathes. Easy. Spots him. Gatz. He looked too. “Don’t ditch me...” She whispered.

Men, women, Human, Zeltron—this species or that one, sipping on drinks, all so silent.
Bothan in the distance, comfy in his seat. It’s no understatement to say Violet’s nervous.
She gave nothing away, curling fingers across blonde locks. The drums thump. Electronic.
Rhythmic pumps. Bass squelch. Synth echo. Feedback growl. Audience waiting for service.

Okay, Jay… Violet ran a hand down her fabrics. Time to play. No more time to wait, anyway.
She glanced at Gaz, licked her lips, crimson lipstick, then she slowly began to wave her hips.
Started simple, casual, letting it build. Offered her front, body like liquid, wavy dress, split slits.
Gave some leg as she gently bent her knees, raising arms, hands over head, in a dancer’s grace.

Stepped forward, one sandal in front of the other, gyrating at the waist, and lowered her arms.
Fingers trailed through hair, tickled down her shoulders, becoming a bit bolder after her start.
This time Violet bent low, that flimsy flap of fabric that covered her groin sliding over a thigh.
Her hips kept curling though, didn’t quit beneath that tree, offering cleavage, and both eyes.

There was that damned dirty Bothan, that kriffing piece of shit, and other men and women.
Some sat, some stood, some drank, some had hands on trays as some were slaves, servants.
Violet gazed at them, sympathized, but offered no pity in her eyes, had to keep up her dance.
Dangerous scumbags in her presence. So am I. Had to concentrate. So Violet just gazed at Gatz.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

So he wasn't invited to the party after all? That was perfect, at least for their plans of him unloading Jay's medical supplies. That would give him more than enough time to get that done, but of course that was only one part of the problem. Because now Jay was expected to be here far longer than she should have to be. And since he wasn't actually invited, he'd have to sneak into the party to get her out.

"Sure, as long as I get my credits in the end. Lok isn't exactly a cheap trip."

As concerned as he was about this whole affair, he still had a role to play: the selfish smuggler. It wasn't a hard part to get back into. He'd worn the role like a coat for the past six years, only recently abandoning it to try and be something more. Something better.

But he didn't like how easy it was to fall back into those habits; to pretend to be that man again.

Jay whispered to him, and Gatz had to find a way to reassure her that he wasn't going to leave her behind, even if it meant breaking their façade.

"Don't worry woman, I'm not leaving without a return on my investment." Read: I'm not leaving without you.

As demanded of him, Gatz stepped away from the courtyard, to a shaded spot under a pillar where he could still keep an eye on Jay. He looked away during most of her performance, acting the part of a bored man that wanted to get on with his day, but stole a glance or two every so often to make sure no one tried to lay a hand on her.

He'd shoot any of them that tried to harm her, this mission be damned. Gatz had already thrown her to wolves. He wouldn't let them eat her.

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music IC (Recurring)

​

Her intention was to get their attention and distract them. So far her performance had worked.
In truth, there was no stage and this was no ballet. The music was suited to a different dancer.
One who moved with no less grace, if with a different aim. It was a dance Jay had done before.
No doctor, not Dr. Metrum, but in chaos as Mayhem. An exotic dancer who must be adored.

She didn’t like them, didn’t have to. They were rude and crude. Depraved faces gazed her way.
Jay just had to move and play the game. But even thugs like this Bothan had limits, conditions.
Bouncers to keep others from coming up, touching, getting rough. This wasn’t a free business.
Some women were here to kiss and to sit on laps. Others were here to dance. For now, anyway.

Violet was, after all, unsold property at the very least. Even then, she was to be paid by Kreth.
He had not entered the scene yet, the party not yet beginning. Violet was just demonstrating.
She’d seen lecherous looks before, but watched another face looking away from her dancing.
Gatz. A woman saw a man. He didn’t react by gawking. Jay then knew he meant what he said.

Her lips had told him not to ditch her, though she knew he had to at least leave this vicinity.
The sooner he did that, the better for her, the pair of them, and those in need of medicine.
The party may be closed to the likes of Gatz Derrevar, but he’d be invited to the mansion.
Assuming Kreth wanted Violet, that was. If he did, Gatz would be back for his payment.

Unless things got violent, he’d sneak her out somehow. Violet’s eyes gazed up high.
Fly me out, maybe? She looked back down at the crowd. Heads tilted left and right.
Time to give them what they asked. Her dance stayed the same, turning to the side.
Elegantly waving hips. No denying this took skill, yet it meant eyes on her backside.

Nearly backless dress, bare skin between shoulder blades and along the line of her spine.
Arms up again, curling fingers through the air, not looking behind but she felt their eyes.
Violet knew where they lingered, burning through her lower garments to climb her thighs.
She came back round to her other side, curved figure gliding, craning her neck to the sky.

Facing forward now, tilting her head, a lone finger on her chest, removing above breasts.
She looked left, the Bothan ogling her, licking his lips, but he didn’t shift. No one budged.
She looked right, keeping tally. Pistols at hips. She dipped her own. Guns and then some.
Looks ahead. Gatz Derrevar. Sight for sore eyes. But when would this demonstration end?

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

A pleased growl escaped the Bothan's throat, though Gatz himself couldn't hear it. He could, however, see the expression on his face, and the way his eyes traced Jay's every movement. Something about this all made Gatz feel sick. But, their plan seemed to be working. If the alien was impressed, he'd dismiss Gatz and Jay would be the main attraction of Kreth's party.

What a mixed bag that was, both what they needed and what they didn't want.

"Alright, that's enough." With a snap of his fingers, the purple lighting up the tree was cut. "You're covering up too much skin for Kreth's liking, but your dancing will do. Go entertain our guests a little. I'll call you back to the stage when the boss finally shows up."

Gatz didn't like how the Bothan had phrased that statement, at all. But it meant that Jay was good enough for a proper audition. Even if Kreth didn't like her and she was kicked out of the party, she was here for a good amount of time. They'd have to take what they were given, and hope it was enough.

"Derrevar," the Bothan waved Jay off, "what are you still doing here? Get out. One of my men will meet you at your ship, either with your payment, or with your dancer."

"See that they do. I'd hate to see Kreth ruin his father's reputation by being dishonest with me."

"You'll get something out of this, now get!"

With a final nod to Jay, Gatz turned to leave. He didn't have time to waste, unless Kreth liked Jay and decided to keep her. That would make busting her out a big problem, but that was better than being interrupted while in the middle of smuggling her goods. Either way, there was a huge roadblock present at the end of each possibility, and it would have to be addressed.

But better to cross that bridge when they came to it.

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music IC

​

Jay heard the finger-snap and that Bothan bastard of a man in turn. The violet light above Violet turned off, the tree at her back suddenly becoming dark, haunting, as the music shifted yet again into something more daunting, for an unversed dancer at least, but not her. These are the beats you move a bit more quickly too. Other girls took to the makeshift stage, clearly paid for, if clearly underpaid.

The doctor breathed, a sigh of relief as much as to remind herself of what the night might hold in store for Violet. Then again, she was more nervous than afraid, and there was a learned difference. She had her tricks, and they translated into more than just the blaster behind her garments and on her stomach.

Bothan, whatever his name was, told his audition she was covering up too much skin for Kreth’s liking, and that told Violet everything she needed to know. Party hasn’t even started yet, girl. Remember your world. She shrugged in response, less nonchalant and more ‘Sorry, boss. I’ll do better next time.’

He couldn’t see the lies in her eyes. Jay would hide or she would die. Violet would keep them both alive. Yet things had shifted, a bit different than expected. If Kreth doesn’t like me, he might just toss me into the garbage, never mind Derrevar’s ship. Too late, anyway. Jay had to set her concerns aside and reserve her mind for Violet. For Jay Mayhem, better yet.

Though things had turned out a bit differently for this little mission, Jayrenel Metrum still had medicine and other medical supplies to deliver, and more than a former smuggler to get her out of dodge somehow if shaking and sneaking her ass out was off the table.

Bothan commanded Violet to go entertain the guests while everyone waited on the guest of the hour, Kreth, the Quarren in power. Meanwhile Bothan addressed Gatz with a dismissive hand. He nodded at Violet. “Stay safe.” She whispered into her earpiece.

“Hey, sweets,” a Zabrak man waved her over. Violet locked eyes with him, hand on hip, baring slit on thigh. “Come sit on my knee.”

Only got time to play and stay alive, Jay. For now, anyway. She smiled, walked over, gestured to sit on the man’s lap, then submitted her rear into an adjacent chair instead. That made him grin. “Gonna at least offer me a drink first?” She teased.

He poured liquid as golden as whiskey but it turned out to be tequila; sweet, earthy, with hints of honey, vanilla and citrus. “It’s delicious.” Sitting to the shithead’s right, Violet crossed one leg over the other, offering the bare side of her thigh, eyes into eyes. “And who you might you be?” Besides a bad dream.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

"I should be saying that to you," Gatz whispered into his own ear piece, "I'll be as fast as I can. Do what you have to do to stay in one piece."

It had taken every ounce of restraint that Gatz was capable of to keep himself at a walking pace, and not make a breakneck sprint for the ship. Running would have been extremely suspicious. A part of him didn't care about that: the guilt of leaving Jay behind at that party, even only temporarily, was starting to make him think irrationally. To hell with the plan, and to hell with her delivery. He'd left her damn near defenseless and at Kreth's mercy.

You're already past the point of no return, Gatz reminded himself, get the job done, get Jay out of there, and go home.

It was the only thing left to do, and so when the former smuggler returned to the landing pad, he got to work immediately.

---

While "Violet" was engrossed in her conversation with the Zabrak scumbag, the door to the manor opened. Out strode a tall, wide Quarren of about middle-age. He was dressed in an extravagant robe, which made it hard to tell whether his bulk was muscle, fat, or a stocky mixture of both. He made no introduction for himself, and the servers he passed bowed their heads reverently. Or, fearfully.

It was hard to tell which.

Kreth Garr snagged a glass of rum away from some scoundrel at a table near him, downed it in one gulp, and dropped the glass on the duracrete floor, shattering it. He continued walking as if he hadn't just done that, before plopping himself down at an empty table.

"Dog-face!" His voice was gutteral and rough, "where's the entertainment?"

"Boss!" The Bothan approached Kreth, "I have someone here, your father's favorite smuggler brought her to us."

"Derrevar?" The Quarren sounded suspicious, "Derrevar doesn't haul slaves. Not even for the exuberant amounts my father has offered him."

"It's true! I can fetch her, it'll only be a moment," the Bothan turned to Jay, "Violet! Get your ass over here! You're blowing your audition!"

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music IC (Recurring)

​

The Zabrak looked Violet in the eye before tilting his eyes to her thigh. “You have the privilege of sitting in the presence of—” He shut up all at once as someone just entered. Violet looked up, taking in the arrival, and suddenly the presence of this Zabrak became even more minimal.

Kreth. There was no doubt about who this Quarren was. The clothes, the silence from those around him amid his entrance, and of course the smashed glass. This was a man who commanded respect—rather, fear and attention, enough to do whatever he wanted, and when. Kriffhead.

Violet already knew what to expect as a smile crept across her lips just then. Dogface? So, that was the Bothan’s name. She felt some satisfaction at the bastard’s treatment from his master, but he was another matter. Here we go.

The Bothan called her like a dog, one first ordered to sit, now to stand and bring her ass over as beckoned. Gritting her teeth, she teased the Zabrak by trailing her hand up her leg, dipping her fingers into the slit of her dress, then getting up with a toss of her head. You’re never getting any of this, dipshit. Neither was Kreth, no matter what happened next.

The woman walked forward, toward her host, with confidence in her step, no timid thing.
Hips swaying side to side, footsteps inward, dress gliding by her thighs, arms swaying.
Here she comes again. Troubles on her brow. Eyes ahead. Violet can’t stumble now.
Hiding her worries, she let Kreth see a woman who wasn’t timid, her head unbowed.

“Mr. Garr.” Head tilted in acknowledgment at least, her words echoed in her earpiece.
Gatz Derrevar would catch on that the man of the hour had arrived. “It is a pleasure.”
She suddenly remembered that plate of squid that one day came out the wrong way.
“I’m Violet.” A modest smile on her lips with a hint of danger fit for her kind of dancer.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

With one word from Jay, the former smuggler now knew that Kreth had arrived. The time was ticking, and with every second, Jay's situation got more and more dangerous. So Gatz be nimble, Gatz be quick, Gatz get all the shit the fuck off his ship. It was easy work, but at the breakneck pace he was going, it wore him out. He really needed to workout more often.

All the while, Jay was dealing with Kreth Garr.

---

"So you're the girl Derrevar brought for me?" Kreth questioned, "interesting. I just can't see him jumping into the slave trade. How did he acquire you?"

Kreth, for all his monstrosity, didn't ask for Jay to dance. At least not yet. It was clear that the man wasn't buying into the idea of Gatz Derrevar suddenly having a change of heart.

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music IC

​

The music changed as girls left the makeshift stage to sit on laps and to entertain.
This is it. Jayrenel Metrum, Jay Mayhem, Violet, whoever she is, she had to be brave.
She is a doctor, was a dancer, knew how to act, but wasn't the best actor at any rate.
When it came to thinking on this spot. Operating theater? Sure, it's why she got paid.

There were more than two ways things could have played between Violet and Kreth.
He had entered the scene like he was king, demanding and breaking glass and that.
Drinking, insulting, sitting, as bold as can be, proving that here, well, he is the man.
So for a certainty his attitude toward his prospective purchase is as loud as breath.

This Quarren all but snorted, surely snored. He sat with muscle or fat on his chest.
Violet heard him, maintained her smile but no grin. She had to keep up appearances.
Every bit the monster his father is… Violet just frowned behind her lips at his reputation.
She wasn’t racist, but she can’t help but see squid instead of Quarren amid his question.

“I'm a gift.” She offered her answer; mysterious if in a typical showgirl’s way; if suspicious.
Yet Kreth’s suspicions were already raised, as Jay played. “From one who wants business.”
She shrugged, standing hand on hip. Piece of shit. He will beat you. He’ll flay you. He’ll ra—
Thinking wasn’t pretty but Jay couldn’t forget the stakes. “Our little smuggler…owed a favor.”

Violet looked over at the Bothan. “Dogface,” she spoke innocently as if it was simply his name.
“He insisted on sending Gatz away before he could explain. I’m payment as much as exchange.”
“You’re a dead bi—” -SMACK!- Kreth snatched his hand. “Hands off till I paid. You know the way.”
It was as if to say the Quarren had first dibs and that was it. “This is business. It’s no simple game.”

Unless there was a blaster bolt in her skull by this point, Violet proceeded.
“You and your father are magnates in the slave trade.” If hardly magnets.
She didn’t twist her lips; kept an appearance of someone ready for a slap.
As if raised a slave, trained to dance. “Bara the Hutt…extends his hand…”

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

The Bothan—whose name wasn't actually "Dogface" but no one would ever call him anything else—skulked away after being disciplined by Kreth. But as he walked away, beady eyes leveled themselves at Jay, and the fury they held was clear. Her words would be remembered, as they had brought him disfavor with his boss. This was likely not going to be the last Jay saw of Dogface this night.

Kreth's eyes lit up as the Hutt was mentioned.

"Bara? Now that's an old name. How do you know it, and how is Derrevar involved in his business now?"

Ironically, it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for Gatz to be mixed up with some other crime lord. Not with his history of working in Hutt space. It was unlikely for Jay to know that though, and Kreth was well aware of that. The Quarren was still suspicious, and was still trying to get "Violet" to slip up and reveal her ruse, whatever it might be.

"I hope you can talk and dance at the same time," Kragan reclined in his seat, "and I hope you have something more interesting in store for me than that dress. Because so far, I'm not all that impressed with this audition. Or lack thereof."

Of course, Kreth was woefully unaware of the heat Jay was packing, strapped to her stomach. He hadn't spotted the holdout blaster, nor was he looking for one. He was just scum all the way through.

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music IC (Recurring)

​

Jay had made an enemy that very day, that evening, whatever the case. His name? Dogface.
Then again, she didn’t plan on staying in this depraved den any longer than was necessary.
He could remember her words for all he cared—when he takes a piss, shits, eats or sleeps.
That jackass of a Bothan dismissed himself and that was just as well. Okay, Jay... Let’s play...

The woman already had been, of course, but Violet had to remind herself of the stakes.
Her host posed his question, giving her time to think. She didn’t know Gatz, no mistake.
He had been a smuggler, or still was, so it took no imagination to think of his employers.
Whether the underworld was behind him, his past was before him—and it will never burn.

As much as he wants, wills and wishes it… Violet kept her lips spread, offering no deception.
At least, no less than was expected in a tribute of its own expense from a Hutt businessman.
Competition, no less, though that is business. Competitors could just as much work together.
“I’m a young woman,” she admitted. “Yet a girl’s raised in this world. I know names, Mr. Kreth.”

She offered, not sarcastically, but humbly, as a dancer or a slave should be, as Jay mustered.
She answered one portion of his question, offering him something less he think she’s stalling.
“I can dance.” Dogface knew that. Unfortunately he stepped away to go whine, and likely balling.
Kreth didn’t like Violet’s dress? Yes. It's missin’ bare breasts and no exposed buttcheeks... She turned.

“Shall I...stand beneath the tree..?”
Kreth snapped his fingers. “Nope.”
He beckoned her forward. “...Go…”
Waved away a server. Baring teeth.

“Dance, then... Don’t prove to be…useless...”
No imagination needed for what that meant.
Violet stood before the monster, out of reach.
However, he could wave her closer. Eyes meet.

“I am a young woman and I know little of business.”
She again admitted. Girls like her, well, kinda didn’t.
They know a bit of it, no more than they’re permitted.
“Gatz Derrevar…” No mister like Kreth. “He was in for it.”

She trained her gaze in the Quarren's turquoise orbs.
She began to sway to the music; drums, bells, horns.
“Maybe his neck was on the line?” Hell, Jay didn’t lie.
“A desperate man.” She danced her hips side to side.

Front flap of the fabric of her dress dips left—right.
Revealing smooth skin, softer than garment, thigh.
Arms extended at sides, waving to the wave music.
Electronic, harmonic, trap, rap—but it won’t cut it.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

​

Kreth clearly listened close as Jay made excuses as to why she didn't know about Derrevar's situation. His bloated eyes narrowed, but he seemed to accept her answer. So he was silent for a moment, observing her as she performed for him. His attention was focused on her, but he didn't seem particularly interested in what she was doing.

"Your dancing could use a bit more, well, everything," the Quarren was blunt, "you're not the worst I've ever seen, but I've had far better."

Unfortunately, given his occupation, that was probably true.

"So while you figure out how to make this more entertaining to watch, tell me something: how did you end up in Derrevar's hands?"

It seemed the Quarren would never be done pushing her for answers. But then, that might have made sense: he knew the man, and had hired him many times. Maybe the idea of Gatz being desperate wasn't enough to convince him that the smuggler would stoop so low.

---

Meanwhile, on the other end of town at the spaceport, the smuggler in question was sweating through his leather jacket. Gatz wasn't sure that he'd ever moved cargo so fast, and he was still only half done. He hadn't heard from Jay in an alarming amount of time, and despite not wanting to risk giving her away, decided to speak into his ear piece.

"You still in one piece, Doc?" His voice came out tired, panting from exertion, "I'm about halfway done here, but if it's getting too dangerous in there..."

---

Tags: Jayrenel Metrum

 

[Jayrenel Metrum]

Spoiler: Music IC

The music wouldn’t cut it. Violet had known it. It wasn’t vibrant. Not enough.
Yet, the answers of a simpleton, an idiot in perspective, a slave, didn't budge.
They budged enough—at least to keep Kreth’s gaze on her hips, that was.
Little kriffer that he was, however…his mind was on ‘ask’ more than ‘ass’.

Change the pace. The music just shifted. Kark the stars. Time for a new game.
Sometimes it wasn’t a matter of being wise. Not for a dancer. Not for Violet.
The objective of the game, the way to play, was to maintain a target’s gaze.
Bloated eyes. Squidlike. Come see… She moved. Had no time for violence.

Kreth had accepted Violet’s blatant answer of Gatz being a desperate man.
‘Please forgive me,’ her eyes would plead. At the same time, Violet smiled.
Men like Kreth demanded quiet unless words were worth and all the while.
So Violet moved to the new tunes: synthetic trumpet, hollow cello, and rap.

Damn. Her dancing could use a bit more everything. Blame a kriffing tune.
Now there was no going back. Violet moved, dared to, yet Jay stayed true.
“Bara's in need of opportunities.” She winked, turned, offering her backside.
Glimpsing orbiting viewscreens of purple speeders within streets in dark light.

“But he has preference. Isn’t desperate like Gatz?” Hands raising, swaying.
“I’m one of the Hutt’s best dancers,” Violet gestured, facing away, smiling.
“I was raised in this game. Who better to offer?” Shit. Can’t keep doing this.
There was a limit to Violet. She wasn’t some slut. Focus, Jay. Or death it is...

So, against a doctor’s better judgment, Jay Mayhem came in, lifted her dress.
Fingers dip in, gripping the edge of her garment; back flap on her ass, no less.
“Smuggler owed a favor.” Hint of purple panties, slipping fabric’s edge to the left.
“Right place, right time. Like fine wine.” Violet turned, lifting front flap. Eyes caress.

Offering her side, swaying hips sensuously; no better adjective to fit definition.
Sideways, arm up, fingers curling toward the sky, other arm resting on stomach.
Tickling skin, caressing; had to perform the performance of a dancer born for this.
“Hutts. Quarrens. Dangerous.” She suggested, turning forward. “But I will manage...”

Gatz Derrevar