Size Matters Not

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua walked towards the building, clad in all his armor, not trusting the situation one bit. For one, he had left some very important cargo on his ship, being the new droid, and a few other choice items. Ghorua had his suspicions what was happening here, and he didn't like the picture his mind was painting of the situation.

Ghorua had been cloned before, and didn't exclude that possibility.

But they had to follow every lead.

The Shark watched intently as B'enor knocked on the door, starting slightly as the distinct mug of an Aqualish greeted them. He simply watched and listened, tagging information he thought was important. Ghorua's HUD ran facial-recognition on the Aqualish, but that would take a while.

Then he spoke of dancers.

It was all Ghorua could do from wheeling back in surprise. Thankfully, the Shark's mind worked quickly.

"Yes, that would be lovely." Ghorua removed his helmet, revealing a face scoured by lust. Another hidden talent of the Shark; he was an excellent actor. "I had hoped for Kay, but if you have another just as fair, I would appreciate it."

It was all Ghorua could do to keep from planting a giant fist in the Aqualish's face. But they needed to gather information. Even if Ghorua's suspicions were correct, and the Kay that was walking outside was a clone, they had to have gotten the DNA from somewhere.

Perhaps they had kiddnapped the lady to use her as the template for a new dancer.

'Dancer'.

The thought of it boiled under Ghorua's skin, threatening to release his Frenzy.

"I would appreciate it a lot."

- @B'enor Benjeel - [member="The Squid"] -

 

[B'enor Benjeel]

The Aqualish looked Ben up and down, examining him, then quickly moved on to Ghorua, the real threat if there was one. He was clearly armed to the teeth… and he had teeth. But he also looked like he needed a… dancer. Plus, the gatekeeper pegged the big man for a bounty hunter more than what he was really worried about.

“If you are cops, then I need to retire,” boomed the Aqualish through his tusks.

The speakeasy peephole slammed shut. Moments went by, then what felt like minutes. At least to the hyperactive Chadra-Fan, who looked up at the Shark impatiently. He was about to say, “you never told me your girlfriend was a dancer,” but the massive door slowly slid open before he did, distracting him. Very likely benefiting the continued existence of his corporeal form.

He’d thought the Shark was lying about wanting a dancer, but when the heavy durasteel door slid open to reveal a room packed with patrons, dancers, and servers, with plush purple carpeting, silky couches, multiple dancing areas, all surrounded by what looked like the entrances to private viewing rooms, he was really, really hoping the Shark had meant it. This building was quickly turning out not to be such a bad place after all. In fact, it was quickly becoming one of Ben’s favorite places instead.

The Aqualish was nowhere to be found, but a Human female with fair skin and blond hair rounded the corner where Ben thought the Aqualish should’ve been.

“If you tell me what you’re in the mood for gentlemen, I’ll be glad to direct you to the appropriate area. I think you’ll find that we have dancers for everyone: famous politicians, Sith, Jedi, smugglers, even some of the galaxies most infamous and feared bounty hunters,” she pitched, looking up at Ghorua, “If you’re into that sort of thing. Just to name a few.”


[member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua shrugged to his small ally as the door opened, practically smelling the hormones in the Chadra-fan. He glanced around, taking in the area. It was nothing new to the Shark, he had worked as a bouncer for more than a few of these sorts of clubs. To be fair, this place seemed a lot nicer than the seedy holes on Nar Shaddaa.

Ghorua struggled to keep his act up when a woman approached the pair. The Shark resisted the urge to look her up and down, determined to keep some shred of dignity. He smiled carnally, a glitter in his onyx eyes. "Those all sound wonderful. I'm sure my friend here," the Herglic said, pushing forward the small slicer, "... would love to get to know one of these wonderful women right away."

The black-skinned behemoth winked at B'enor, giving him permission. "Go, have your fun. This nice lady and I need to talk about selection." The veiled meaning would be apparent to the Chadra-fan.

Ghorua turned back to the blonde woman, a little confusion showing through his eyes. "May we speak? I just have a few questions."

---​

​

"Now, I have to be honest with you, I don't know what this place is." Ghorua reclined on a large plush couch, feeling a knot in his back begin to unwind. He had been wearing his armor for a while, and as comfortable as it was, the armor wasn't made for long use. His clothes underneath, tight black shirt and cargo pants, accentuated his massive muscles, marred by blaster fire.

They had been talking for a few minutes, exchanging pleasantries. Ghorua had shut down any advances made by the woman immediately, and she seemed more than happy to drop the act. Ghorua continued his thought, running a hand over the back of his head. "I lost a game of sabacc with a buddy of mine, they told me to stop by. Said I'd like it." The lie came easily to the Bounty Hunter, rolling off the tongue as easily as if it were truth. "I'm not a big fan of clubs, y'know? Too many people for me."

"I have to ask, though, how do you have so many famous dancers? I was under the impression the president was missing." Ghorua didn't try to mask his curiosity. "How did you do it? Is that really her?"

- @B'enor Benjeel -

 

[B'enor Benjeel]

The Shark told him to have fun while he talked with the woman who’d greeted them. Conflicted, Ben couldn’t decide what Ghorua’s wink had meant. Did it mean he fancied the woman and was going to have a nice ‘chat’ with her? Did it mean he was going to distract her while Ben was supposed to look around for Kay? Did it literally mean, ‘go have fun’? The Shark didn’t seem like someone who would indulge in the cardinal pleasures while on the job. Then again, Ben convinced himself, he didn’t know the bounty hunter for very long, maybe he had a weak spot, or maybe he really did want Ben to have fun.

Deciding the Shark wanted him to go forth and be merry, Ben quickly left the two to their ‘chat.’ Like a hand slipping into a well-worn glove, he slipped comfortably into the throng of patrons, marveling at each dancer on show, before discovering the door to the private viewing chamber of none-other than Lady Kay. Or, at least that’s what it said in gold, sparkling letters on her door. Who would ever write something with sparkles if it weren’t true?

Look at that, he thought to himself. He was having a good time and still discovered a clue. Who said not to mix business with pleasure?

Now probably wasn’t the best time for manners and modesty, not that he had much of either anyway. If Lady Kay really was behind those doors, it was literally his job to find out. He certainly didn’t mind barging into a dancer’s viewing room – there were much worse things to get paid for after all.

He quickly slid the door open and jumped into the room, hoping to surprise anyone inside. Instead, he found himself in the middle of a pitch-black space with, as far as he could tell, nobody else in it but him. That was disappointing. But not as disappointing as what was about to happen.

The door slammed shut, leaving so little illumination that even his extremely sensitive eyes couldn’t see. Then it felt like the floor had fallen out from under him. Before he had time to even brace himself, he fell who knew how far before finally crashing onto the sunken floor. The impact knocked him out as his little head slammed onto the hard surface.

Moments later he groggily awoke to a gangly figure manically slapping the bars of the metal cage behind which he found himself.

“Yeahh! Wooohooo,” the figure screamed with childish joy as he danced around in victory. “You’ll be perfect!” he continued to yell, his irritatingly high pitched voice was that much more annoying to Ben’s sensitive hearing, “Now the Shark will have to come looking for his little pet. He won’t be so easily trapped but,” the slim figure slammed his head against the cage, crazy eyes on show for all too see, “he isn’t my first!”

Ben was still regaining full consciousness when he heard ‘little,’ causing him to instinctively draw his blaster and fire at the figure. Rather than passing through the metal bars to hit the human man on the other side, the blaster bolt hit a shield between the bars, bounced back, and hit his left shoulder.

Crazed laughter echoed around the room, “I wouldn’t do that again little pet. We must persevere something for your owner to save, after all!” He slapped the cage. “The women are hungry for more male dancers, we shan’t disappoint!”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-​

The woman who’d greeted the Shark and Ben was indeed glad to discover the Shark wasn’t looking for any special favors. Ghorua being a very… very large creature indeed. In fact, he appeared more interested in the business than the dancers, which seemed odd, even for someone who’d been forced to come to the club after a bad hand of sabacc. After all, his little friend seemed to have taken an easy liking to the festivities. She’d seen a lot of people come through those doors, but nobody paid more attention to the how of the establishment than the who, when, and how-much.

She placed her hand on her ear for just a moment to hear something over the music. Smiling at the Shark, as if happy to answer his last question, she said, “I can’t reveal all our trade secrets, of course,” she giggled flirtatiously, “But lucky for you, I’ve been given special permission to show you around back stage to meet the owner. He’s taken a liking to you. So,” she said standing up, “Will you join me big man?”

[member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

The woman's answer was the only confirmation Ghorua needed. He was almost certain that cloning procedures were in use; it was the only logical explanation to why so many Jedi would find themselves anywhere near a place like this.

To be fair, Ghorua had once met a Jedi in a place exactly like this, and wouldn't be surprised if he saw her here.

Ghorua masked his certainty with a gulp from a drink he had acquired. It was strong, but Ghorua was practically immune to alcohol. A side-effect of being large and genetically-modified. The woman didn't need to know that, however.

"I'm not sure about that, little one." The Shark used the term loosely, as if it were a passing remark. He was really gauging her reaction to the derogatory term. However she reacted would give away plenty about her personality, and perhaps her training. "I just came by to watch, struggle through it until this nightmare's over." A jolly hauum escaped the Herglic's blowhole.

Ghorua thought it odd that the owner would take interest in him, especially before he had done anything suspicious. Perhaps they didn't like the idea of a customer coming only to chat. Perhaps there was something more malicious in store. Either way, it would benefit the hunter to keep the scenery on his terms. "If your boss wants to see me, he can see me here. I'll be expecting him." Ghorua brought his drink up to his lips nonchalantly. He looked up, a bit of humor in his eye.

"What? As you deduced, I am a bounty hunter, and quite the large one at that. Confined, enclosed spaces make me... nervous." Ghorua growled out the last word, almost, but not quite, a threat.

A very terrifying threat, hidden under a visage of contentment and relaxation.

- @B'enor Benjeel -

 

[B'enor Benjeel]

Groggily, Ben regained full consciousness just to be greeted with a wild-eyed, scrawny male human in the middle distance, throwing himself from one monitor to another as if desperate to watch multiple shows at the same time and failing miserably. The man had shock-white hair, though he didn’t appear old enough for such a thing. His arms inside some sort of long black tunic flailed at the controls.

As for Ben, well, his shoulder hurt... a lot. No surprise there. He cursed his instinctual reaction to being called short. Then again, it would have been the right move if only he weren’t trapped in a force-field. He just barely swallowed the urge to say something snarky to his crazed captor. He had a plan, and the last thing he needed to do was draw the man’s attention. Trapped he may be, but fortunately for him, he was trapped with a vest full of tools. What kind of engineer and slicer would he be if he couldn’t hack himself out of this?

Not one the Shark would want to hire. That was for sure.

Carefully, he slid a few of those aforementioned tools from his pockets and hid them behind him along with his blaster. Then, turning onto his good side so as to hopefully block the human’s view of what he was up to, he began disassembling the blaster. It sucked that he’d shot himself, obviously, but it had given him a lot more information about the kind of force-field he was dealing with than his captor thought. Even the best force-fields could be subverted.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-​

​

A flicker of her smile was the only tell that she was disappointed with Ghorua’s answer. He would make her boss come to him, giving some excuses about wanting to just watch and being uneasy in confined spaces. So be it, she thought to herself, as she retook her seat. Her boss would be disappointed, but this bounty hunter wasn’t the first to brushoff the invitation and he wouldn’t be the last.

“That’s a real shame, backstage is really something to see.” She paused for just a moment and smiled, “Have it your way, that is our slogan after all.” She spoke softly into a commlink. Waited for a reply. “My boss will join us momentarily,” she said cutely, batting her eyelids.

After only a few minutes, a rotund male Qurren dressed superbly in a fine dull green and brown suit emerged from a side door. His heavily spotted skin, slightly hunched posture, and the slick-wood cane he used for support all gave-away the fact that he wasn’t as young as he used to be.

Gingerly sliding into one of the chairs, he looked at the Shark as if he couldn’t quite believe what his eyes were seeing. “Making an old man walk so far to meet you,” he said with a smile, tentacles rippling playfully, “I thought better of you [member="Ghorua the Shark"], though I suppose you didn’t rise to the top of your profession without being cautious.” His voice was aged and deep, a little husky, but not without confidence or energy.

“The name’s Queejan Bozass, but you can call me Quee,” he said, offering a hand, “I am the owner of this little establishment, and I’ve been a big fan of your work for some time. Never thought I’d get to meet you in person. This is very exciting.”

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua could detect the subtle disappointment in the woman's response, and gladly accepted it. He didn't necessarily care if he stepped on toes here; they were blatantly disrespecting Kay's visage, as well as plenty other respectable beings. They gave no respect, so he gave them none in return.

"Thank you for your... understanding." Ghorua felt the shadows leap up again, agitated by his paranoia, again, only for a moment. The sudden cold was easy to miss, but enough to freeze a single breath. A spark of dread in the woman's mind began to grow, a feeling that didn't leave with the returning light or warmth.

Ghorua felt a similar fear enter his brain, but refused to show it. He didn't know what this new power was, but he was pretty sure he didn't like it.

When the Quarren walked in, Ghorua looked over, seemingly disinterested. The Shark slowly straightened, squinting his eyes suspiciously. He cultivated an easy smile, and his entire visage changed with it. He seemed easygoing, unguarded even. He chuckled, and spoke with some mirth at the aquatic humanoid.

"Well, thanks for having me, Mr. Bozass." Ghorua heard his helmet awaken at his side, as the Holonet Search began it's facial recognition scan, and covered the sound with a laugh. "Ha, I am truly sorry for bringing you to me, but as you said, one doesn't survive by being careless." Ghorua took another drink from his glass, which had frosted slightly from Ghorua's mysterious presence.

"Now, I don't suppose this is a simple meet'n'greet you wanted, hmm? So, what do you want with me, Mr. Bozass?"

- @B'enor Benjeel -

 

[B'enor Benjeel]

Queejan gave an easy smile, “Well, a simple meet’n’greet really was all I had in mind Mr. Shark. I was notified of your entrance with that… little mouse thing, from my staff who all know how much of a fan I am. So, like the experienced businessman I am, I seized the opportunity.” He shrugged, “I don’t want anything from you. I certainly wouldn’t turn down an autograph, though.” He chuckled heartily.

“The question is, is there anything I can do for you? A certain woman you were hoping to meet, perhaps? I was told you’d originally asked to see our most popular dancer, Lady Kay.” He twisted his cane slowly around while he spoke, “As you know, she is booked solid for quite some time, but, being the owner does come with more benefits than just a bigger bank account and it isn’t every day that a true VIP walks into the club. I can't allow a man such as yourself to leave unsatisfied.”

​

“Oh,” he exclaimed, “what a terrible host I’ve been.” He snapped his fingers and the woman promptly left them to retrieve drinks. “Drinks are on me. Another benefit of being the owner. We have some of the galaxy’s best liquors.”

​

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-​

Meanwhile, somewhere much darker, more claustrophobic, and with a hundred times the level of crazy oozing from his host, Ben made the last essential adjustment to his blaster. Quietly, he put his tools back into his vest and turned to face the force fielded entrance to his cage. He really hoped this worked, because if it didn’t, he’d probably end up shooting himself again, and there was no telling where.

“Not the face, not the face, not the face,” he mumbled. Carefully aiming for what he thought, and hoped, was the control for the force field, the trigger compressed cautiously. A blaster bolt erupted from the weapon, and the best part was, it passed through the field.

The dashboard sizzled, sparks flying everywhere.

The crazy man screamed like a little girl.

Ben rolled out of his cell, quickly hiding behind a piece of electrical equipment. An easy feat for the pint sized engineer.

[member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua feigned a convincing smile as the man offered drinks. Any other bounty hunter might be suspicious of poison or something similar, but there was almost no dosage of anything that could topple the Shark. A perk of his heightened metabolism and size.

"That would be absolutely lovely, Mr. Bozass. I must admit," he sighed, laying back, "I did not expect this sort of hospitality when I came here." It was the truth, from a certain point of view. "I was asking for Kay, yes. And..." Ghorua couldn't hide his hesitation as he weighed the importance of the mission with the awkwardness that might ensue.

He needed to make sure it wasn't her.

"If it isn't too much of an inconvenience to you, I would love to see Kay." Ghorua was treading on thin ice. If this man was a fan of his, he most likely knew that Ghorua had visited Kay a few times. He steeled himself internally, flashing a wide grin.

"And ask exactly why she's here. She's the president, correct? Why would she be here?" Ghorua's grin was all the answer the Quarren would need to deduce the Shark knew exactly what was going on.

"I don't suppose you'd care to elaborate, hmm?" The menace returned into his words, coloring his otherwise-happy words dark.

No supernatural shadow was needed to convey the immediate danger in the room.

- @B'enor Benjeel -

 

[B'enor Benjeel]

Only moments after the Shark’s voice, laced with overt threat, gave up the game, all the lights around the central party room winked out. As if on que.

-----​

​

The cause of the happy coincidence was scrambling around meters below [member="Ghorua the Shark"]'s massive feet, playing a deadly, though oddly amusing, game of cat-n-mouse. Well, if the cat were a psychotic human, and the mouse were a bat without wings.

“Stop shooting you little freak! You’re going to…”

And that’s when one of Ben’s erratic blaster bolts fried the main power grid harder than the bantha steaks at one of Commenor’s worst fast food restaurants. Ben’s head slowly rose above his cover. Of course, in the pitch-black, almost nobody would have been able to see his long ears then big eyes peek out, except, of course, another Chadra-Fan. After only a few moments, Ben’s hypersensitive eyes adjusted to the darkness. What he saw as he peered across the room was sickening.

In the far corner a fully-grown man with shock-white hair had curled himself into a ball and was now rocking himself. Gibberish bubbled from his trembling lips like a toddler.

“Yeah, I’m the freak” Ben mocked, standing up. He thought about putting a few new holes in his ex-captor, but he decided against it, the man was just too pathetic to shoot. Instead, he ran toward the only exit, hoping it eventually led to the main floor. As he passed through the doorway, his sensitive ears picked up the man’s mumbling more clearly, “Darkness..monsters..stay away-stay away…”

​

-----​

​

Meanwhile, meter’s above, as patrons screamed and scrambled in their confusion and panic, a purple lightsaber hissed to life where Bozass was standing. Then, other lightsabers, in a rainbow of colors and scattered all around the large room penetrated the darkness.

“Now look what you’ve done. You just couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Suddenly, darkness.

Ghorua had already been prepared for Queejan to lash out at him, had his intimidation not gone the way he wanted it to. So when the lights flickered out, he had already formulated a counter-attack.

Ghorua's suit laid in a pile at his side, the helmet next to his body. In the blink of an eye, the Shark had already plunked it onto his head, and grabbed the gauntlets of his suit, slipping them on quickly. He rolled behind the couch he sat on, pulling his armor along with him. There was no way he'd be able to put it all on, but he could buy time. The Herglic dexterously undid the strap on his satchel, pulling out a billowing, fine material.

By the time the Mr. Bozass and whatever forces he possessed checked behind the couch, they'd see... Nothing. Not a hint of the Shark, or where he might be.

How he'd managed to do that? A little trade secret.

- @B'enor Benjeel -

 

[B'enor Benjeel]

Fortunately for Queejan and the rest of his employees, the light given off from their sabers was enough for them to start a quick search for the hulking herglic. Shouldn’t be difficult, right?

A human male with blond hair and prince charming looks waved his light blue saber around as he crept closer and closer to the back of the couch. By the time he was close enough for the light to penetrate the darkness around where the Shark ought to have been, a shocked and fearful expression flashed across his features.

“What! He’s not here. That’s impossible!” He yelled back to his boss. Confused and worried mumbles spread through the darkness.

“Of course it’s not impossible,” the Qurren chastised in a calm voice growing ever more uneasy, “It’s the Shark. Now find him!” Bozzas knew who they were dealing with and that knowledge started to erode his practiced steely calm. There was now a Shark in the dark, and they were the prey. He started to slowly back up against one of the walls, his freehand outstretched, feeling for a door.

If he or the rest of his saber wielding dancers were force sensitive, they’d probably have much less trouble finding Ghorua. Unfortunately for them, none of them were. Even worse still, none of their sabers were real either. They were just expensive knockoff props, good for dancing, using as a glow stick, and frightening off a rowdy patron now and again, but not much else.

------​

Ben wondered how most people managed to live without the senses of a Chadra-fan as he walked through a hull and up multiple flights in near complete darkness. Not only could he see without too much trouble, but his other senses, like hearing, fed him detailed information about where he was and where he was going.

The more his shoulder hurt, though, the more he wanted to trade in his senses for some sort of heightened healing ability. Fixing his shoulder would have to wait. He arrived at a durasteel door, much like the one he’d brashly barged through earlier which got him into this whole mess.

Leaning flat against the wall, blaster ready, he manually pushed the door a little to peak through the opening. The sight of a black sea of floating lightsabers stood his fur on end and sent shivers down his spine. He searched frantically for his comm linked to [member="Ghorua the Shark"].

“What the karking hell is going on? I get trapped for a few minutes and come back to a room filled with Jedi and Sith. What’d you do? Hit on somebody’s mother? How are we getting out of this? I hope you have a plan – because I don’t and my shoulder hurts,” he agitatedly whispered.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Over the comms in his helmet, Ghorua heard the high-pitched voice of B'enor pierce his ears, and despite the sudden pain in his hearing, he smiled. At least his ally was still alive. From his side of the tarp, he couldn't see the people's eyes pass over his hiding spot, but he could hear their feet, feel the vibrations in the ground. He could smell them, practically taste their fear.

Bozass' was particularly easy to pick out.

The 'Jedi' began to spread out, and Ghorua muffled his helmet. "Glad to see you're still kicking, Benjeel."

The Shark began to think, donning his armor as silently as possible, stopping whenever a staff member got close. "There's no way I can face this many sabers at once, I don't think. At least, not in a straight up fight. Go hide somewhere while I gear up. And think..." Ghorua did this for a few minutes, plotting to himself all the while. If anyone were paying attention to behind the couch, they would see the shifting of near-invisible material, but it seemed they had already decided there was nothing interesting there.

Finally, Ghorua was completely clad in his armor, and he felt the surge of confidence that came with it. Incidentally, he also had a plan. "Ben? You still there? I've got something that might work."

"I'm gonna cause a distraction towards the main door, lead them outside, while you go deeper in and get as much data on their operations as possible." Ghorua exhaled slowly, still debating whether this was the best course of action. "If I'm still alive by the time you've gotten the info, you can probably slip out no problem."

That's a pretty large if.

"Alright? Go!" Without giving the Chadra-Fan time to voice his concerns, or for Ghorua's inner voice to do the same, he emerged from the back of the couch, rising from seemingly nothing, the white glint of his armor clicking as his wrist weaponry emerged.

"Hey! Bozass!" The Herglic leveled his wrist charric at the Quarren, a savage glint racing it's way across his faceplate.

"A wonderful place you've got here." Crack.

The owner of the club flew backwards, the charric blast sending him crashing into the wall, a smoking hole in his chest.

- @B'enor Benjeel -

 

[B'enor Benjeel]

The Chandra-Fan shrugged silently at the first part of the Shark’s plan – that is to say, the part where he was meant to find a place to hide while the giant could come up with the rather more important, second part of the plan. After quickly looking around, he decided staying put was his best option. Seemed like as good a hiding place as any. The enemy was in front of him and even if someone decided to trounce through this particular door, he could crouch in one of the dark corner’s then blast’em like a bat out of hell. He smiled, visualizing such an ambush. A smile only made possible because he knew the Shark was still alive – though he’d had few doubts.

When Ghorua’s voice came back through his comm, Ben’s ears perked up. It was going to be the ol’ suicidal distraction and steal your files maneuver, then. His brows raised in amusement, where’d he heard that plan before? The blaster clicked as he cocked it in preparation. Fair enough, don’t mess with what isn’t broken.

“Alright, Go!”​

​

Not waiting to see what insane scheme the Shark had come up with, though he really wanted to, Ben burst away from the door and headed back from whence he came. Down the stairs shrouded in darkness to the only room in this loca club he knew had a computer terminal.

His light footsteps approaching from the darkened stairwell evoked a yelp from inside the computer room, “Noooo! Please, don’t hurt me!”

What deranged childhood trauma did this wakamancha koochoo [cowardly idiot] have hidden away in the deep dark closets of his psyche? Ben wondered.

Then, a wily smile accompanied the devilish glint in his eyes as an idea quickly formed within that furry little skull of his. He could hack the system the old-fashioned way, but without Shorty, that might take too long. No telling how long even [member="Ghorua the Shark"] could hold off a room full of Jedi and Sith. Or, he could put on his metaphorical Shark-hat, become Sharkbat, and play scary monster to motivate the man in the corner into doing it for him.

Yeah, he liked that idea.

Creepily, he slowly peaked his head around the doorframe. His large eyes aglow, reflecting the smallest amount of light still bouncing around the room.

“Coo ya maya stupa, tah-koh tee womp rat e’nachu" [You weak-minded fool, you’ll end up womp rat food].

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-​

​

It didn’t take a fully lit room for the gargantuan, white armored Shark emerging as if magically from behind the couch to be seen, and felt, by the glow stick wielding dancers only half-heartedly searching for him – for, nobody really wanted to be the first to float across the Shark in the water. Most froze in place, while a few bright specimens made a desperate dive for cover. That is, until the jolly-white-giant’s wrist charric blew a hole in the club’s owner – fashionably preceded by a classy one-liner. That’s when they all ran screaming in every direction but the Shark’s.

All, but one.

“Ghorua! What are you doing?!” Came a shocked voice, sounding an awfully lot like [member="Lady Kay"], puncturing through the commotion. A woman, looking an awfully lot like Lady Kay, in a rather more tasteful red dress than one would have thought considering the circumstances, emerged from one of the side rooms furthest from Ghorua.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Everyone cleared out pretty quickly after Queejan became roasted calamari, and that was when Ghorua realized he'd been somewhat duped. Of course they weren't actually Jedi, with actual lightsabers.

He admired his work, letting his wrist weapon retract, before hearing a familiar-sounding voice behind him. Calming, collected, panicked. Ghorua's stomach dropped, twisted, and wrenched itself back into place before he even saw the visage of Lady Kay.

The Shark turned, his helmet glinting with the glow of retreating faux-lightsabers. He turned to face the woman, his helm masking the influx of emotions. Primarily was conviction: he knew, somewhere deep down, that this wasn't the real Kay. The second-most powerful emotion, however, was hope. He dared to hope that it was her, that she had been captured by these cloners, and had escaped in the hubbub.

He had to be sure.

The Shark faced the Lady, his immense bulk somehow seeming smaller. The Shark removed his helmet revealing his shattered, hurt eyes. He took a shallow, choppy breath in, and spoke, his deep voice flat.

"What is my daughter's name?"

Only Kay, and a few of his closest friends would know the answer, or even know Ghorua had a daughter.

He said it again, anger twisting the question into an attack. "What. Is. My. Daughter's. Name?"

- @B'enor Benjeel -