Shameful Company

[Ahe'Rain Sekairo]

Ylesia​

​

Lavender eyes stared back at her from a dirty, slightly cracked mirror, the only time she ever met the gaze of another being in moments like these, when it was her own reflection. One hand reached up to trace the scars that cut harsh lines into the left side of her face, abruptly interrupting her otherwise unblemished complexion, a blemish that depreciated her value in the eyes of her masters. Despite this, there was never any shortage of attention from those that visited the palace, and if anything it only made certain individuals more curious and willing to approach her. It was, she supposed, something of a benefit, as the scarring demonstrated a particular level of relatability in that even she wasn't untouched by the harshness of the galaxy. It wasn't like she had a choice in the matter to begin with, but nobody needed to know that.

After all, it was bad for business when patrons were reminded that she was a slave, without the ability to refuse service.

There were few things Ayasha could call her own in the galaxy, but what few beauty products she was allowed was one of them. With a practiced hand she applied her eyeliner and mascara, fading out the scars with a touch of concealer, careful not to dilute her unique skin tone. Carefully she brushed through her hair, smoothing out the natural curls and pulling her hair partly up to expose her lekku where they grew from the base of her skull. Gently she untangled her hair from about them, being certain that not a single strand was out of place. Despite having no say in how she dressed each day she took pride in her appearance, knowing it was the only thing that made her worthwhile of being kept around.

Her daily outfit was only slightly better than being fully unclothed, but she was grateful for what coverage it provided, entirely used to the feeling of being unnaturally exposed to anyone who happened to glance her way. Again she completed another once-over in the mirror, adjusting the position of her lekku and making any necessary finishing touches to her makeup. Only when everything was in order did she exit the chambers she shared with countless others much like herself, all of them having wound up in chains one way or the other throughout their lives. The majority were born into it like she was and knew no other way, but a handful had been captured, and regaled the others with tales of the larger galaxy from time to time. She could only imagine what was out there, but hearing the stories was more than enough to set her imagination running.

She looked over those already gathered with a look she'd practiced countless times in the same mirror, one approachable and deceptively innocent, but not too naive. Her hips swayed with every step, another carefully practiced movement that she'd all but perfected through a lifetime of nothing more than presenting herself as an object to be bought and sold at a whim. There was more that went into servitude than most seemed to think, but twenty-six years was plenty of time to master the art of it.

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

The metal birds screeched as they dropped through the atmosphere, slices of wind trailing from the tips of their bladed wings as they cut through layers of clouds and open air. Like hungered beasts, the shuttles descended upon the palace of Lord Haorza. Smooth and gentle, the shuttles glided into place on the landing pads directly outside the front palace gates. In a great exhale of steam mechanical growling, the bellies of the beasts opened to the harsh sunlight, and from the leading craft stepped Grand Admiral Lucien Eland Irridius.

The air itself seemed to stick to his skin as he stepped off the ramp, eyes carefully surveying the jungles surrounding the immaculately ornate palace. It wasn't long before his eyes were drawn to the front gates, where a group of mixed aliens came rushing outside. By the time the small crowd from within the palace had arrived, the columns of Imperial Marine's had departed the other shuttles and were creating a sort of laminate wall between the curious onlookers and the Grand Admiral.

"Imbeciles," Lucien scoffed, collecting a cloth from his uniform trousers and dabbing at the beads of sweat that'd already begun to turn to a sort of second skin, "Our time here is short and I do not wish to linger among thieves. Disperse this crowd."

The Death Troopers that flanked the man set off, flanking around The Grand Admiral and form a sort of spearhead that pushed the onlookers out and away from the walking path towards the front gate of the palace. Hutt had a habit of keeping company, unfortunately, Haorza kept the company of spice addicts and drunkards - easy prey for his machine of crime.

But even scum like Hoarza had their purposes, and that was why Irridius had decided to come himself rather than bombard the palace from orbit after hearing of what the Hutt had done under his nose. Usually, in exchange for allowing Haorza's smugglers through the Empire of the Hand raiding areas - the Hutt would trade rare goods to The First Fleet. Recently, however, Hoarza had become discontent with the state of the deal and had tried to contact the Mandalorians on the matter. Luckily for First Fleet, they intercepted it before it ever arrived.

Pushing through the large front doors, Irridius marched like a king entering a conquered nation. Flanked by the jet black armor of his death trooper guard - and tailed by rows of Imperial Marines - the Grand Admiral stormed passed the guards without so much as a hint of resistance. Slaves, servants and hired guns alike fled from his unstoppable path towards the throne room.

And that was when his eye and ear caught something magnificent.

A slave moved about the crowds, but this slave was no ordinary creature. She possessed the lekku of a Torguta, but the curled, black hair and sharp features of a woman from the core - and she spoke in the perfect inflictions of Imperial Basic. The sight of her gave The Grand Admiral pause. Her hair was perfect, groomed to a perfection that should have been above an average slave's time. Her lavender eyes and the healthy sway of her rounded, child-bearing hips was captivating.

 

[Ahe'Rain Sekairo]

The feeling of eyes on her was nothing unusual, the sensation of being watched something Ayasha had learned to shrug off at an early age, until the leers and glances of the populace were nothing more than an average occurrence. However, every once in a long while there was an individual that stood out, whether due to the fact that they weren't a regular, or instances like these, where they insisted on making an entrance that threatened to upstage the Hutt himself. The sight and sound of armored beings marching in unison left her awestruck, for she had never seen anything like it before. Certainly a fair share of off-duty soldiers frequented the palace, seizing the opportunity for easy pleasure and a willing ear to listen to their tales of battle, but never had she witnessed anything such as this.

A firm shake of her head dispelled her thoughts, and she scolded herself for staring so obviously and for too long. Her purpose wasn't to look, but be looked at, and she should have known better. Turning her attention back to the matter at hand, she wove through the gathering crowd towards the white-uniformed man whose gaze had lingered on her for a few seconds longer than normal. That was her cue to begin her work, and make herself useful through all the means at her disposal. It seemed he'd come here with a purpose, but if she could persuade him to stay even a little while longer, it would be good for business.

But she never got that far. Before she was within proper distance of the new arrival a black-armored figure stepped in front of her to halt her progress, holding a hand up in warning. Stopping herself short, she attempted to maneuver around him, but to no avail, as he matched her move-for-move and step-for-step. Pausing again, she considered the situation briefly, wondering what exactly she was supposed to do now. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and while she wasn't exactly disallowed to speak to anyone that entered the palace, something told her this one wouldn't entertain her typical line of dialogue. The military men she normally spoke with were much more well-mannered, and if she didn't remember her place she would have perhaps made him aware of that.

Instead she settled for a nonverbal retort, huffing quietly and crossing her arms as she looked up into his helmet. Leaning around him, she spared only a glance to the unarmored figure in his midst before looking up at the soldier again. An eyebrow raised as if to say, Well? He's the reason I'm here, go take it up with him. I'm just doing my job.

But that would only get her in trouble later. So she waited.

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

Lucien's brow raised, studying the slave as she stood defiantly in the shadow of the Death Trooper, arms crossed and head high as if she could will the soldier to move aside. Not much of a slave, but a rather curious inquiry at the least. He considered her for a moment longer, finding his eyes drifting down her form for a second - admiring the flawlessness of the skin and the surprising hygiene at which she kept herself.

Not much of a slave indeed.

"Let her pass." The Grand Admiral commanded softly. The trooper looked back at him. Even though the helmet hid his expression behind an emotionless deathmask, Irridius could read the surprise. But all it took was a flare of his eyes to send the trooper sliding aside - obeying his orders as any soldier should have done immediately. The woman now had a clear path to the Grand Admiral, who still stood with hands folded at the back.

"You've something to say, hm?" he quizzed, waiting her response.

 

[Ahe'Rain Sekairo]

It took a moment, but eventually the faceless man stepped aside at a quiet word from the one in his midst. A last look was spared in his direction before she stepped forward, bare feet hardly touching the floor as she glided across it. Once again Ayasha was stopped short, this time by the abrupt, sharp-edged question immediately posed to her. His tone threw her off balance, possessing an edge that she hadn't detected in his lasting gaze. "I, um..." She fumbled for words, unsure of what she was doing now that he seemed less interested in what she had to offer and more concerned with why she was wasting his time.

There were a few seconds where she said nothing, but soon enough she was able to remember what she'd been taught, and the single thing she was good for. She reached out to touch his arm lightly, the initiation of physical contact the first step. Moving closer so her body pressed against his, she looked up at him through her lashes, tilting her head just so to one side, curls shifting to further expose her striped lekku. "Is there something you like? I can take us to a place where you can do more than just look."

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

A spark of fire lit his body as she touched him, the flame melting away the ice that had thawed over him for so long. Then, for a glimmer of a moment, the green embers of his eyes dimmed - and he felt the desire to agree to her proposition quivering on his lips. His whole body shivered as his mind recoiled from the sudden shock of her touch and as the fleeting thought of touching her back passed through his mind, he was torn back to reality by the voice of his guardsman.

"Sir?" in a flash, the ice overcame the fire and he scowled down at the woman, his eyes darting towards the death trooper with a commanding glare,

Without a word more spoken, the trooper's hand shot through the air and grabbed the slave by the back of her hair. With an unyielding yank, he dragged her body through the air - tossing her to the ground with the full of his might.

[member="Ahe'Rain Sekairo"]