Take Off The Mask

[Alric Kuhn]

That wasn't much of an answer, but Alric understood what she meant.

Violet and Fiona had been hallucinations, figments of his mind, the last haunting vestiges of what had broken through his thoughts. They had been the demons that had haunted him at night, the ones that crossed over and tortured his waking, and sleeping mind. He frowned, processing the information that he had just learned.

“I saw my sisters.” Alric said the words without thought.

He had never in his life told anyone about his sisters. Not Xo, not his business partner, not any of the women he had ever slept with. Violet and Fiona, especially their deaths was something he kept hidden and intensely private.

Not like his parents, they didn't matter, but Violet and Fiona?

They were everything.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Danger heard what he said; in the silence his words were poignant with clarity.

His sisters? Is that who he kept crying out to? Fiona? Violet? Guess one of them wasn't the Zeltron. Although to be frank, she figured that out in the midst of him crying out in anguish, sorrow, and desperation for her to save them and leave him behind.

They were a part of Alric Kuhn he seemed to hold dear. It wasn't a line she wanted to cross or to be frank, remember. Some things were best kept private.

She didn't say anything. No words were said. Perhaps he could believe that she slept or maybe just didn't care enough to say anything. Whatever it would be, Danger wouldn't reply.

There were a few things a man would need.

Respect of the dead and catharsis were some of them. Those were his demons, not hers.

Each one had to battle them on their own.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

“Theyre dead of course.” He kept talking. There was no hint of emotion in his tone, no regret, no sorrow, no mourning. He was just telling Danger the facts, though whether or not she was listening was difficult to tell, he didn't really care.

“Stop.”

“She doesn't care Alric”

The voices whispered.

“When the Mandalorians invaded Empress Teta.” Not long after the Republic had. “They evacuated everyone, but my father in his infinite wisdom decided they could never be harmed.”

The old man really hadn't thought that through, and had Alric been there he would have pointed out the flaws in his plan. Now of course it was too late and he had instead been on Vacation slumming it with a bunch of criminals in a seedy bar. He could have saved them, he had known it was coming, but he hadn't. Instead he had allowed them to die.

It was his fault. “I'm not sure who actually did it. From what I know both the Sith and the Mandalorians destroyed huge swaths of the city.”

His tone was still rock steady, no hint of emotion.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

The sound of a deep inhale would only be further punctuated by the slow steady exhale that would follow. Okay, so she wasn't asleep. But was she even listening? Those could be the questions going through Alric's mind, but it was evident to Danger that the man had an itch to talk.

So she listened.

Companions worked much in the same manner, catharsis brought by being able to disclose that which wrought the soul. It is why many sapients were willing to shell out the registry credits required to be accepted into the Guild House Registry... then toss in even more credits for the chance at a Companion selecting them for a night of comfort.

It went beyond the ceremony, the sex. Sometimes it didn't even end in that. Sometimes, all they wanted was someone to listen.

So she did.

In silence.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He paused for a moment, shifting slightly on the cot.

Alric looked at Danger, his eyes shifted slightly over to her, then to the carpet. For the first time he noticed the massive pool of blood, piss, and whatever else was there. He noticed the clotting and the odd pool, and he also noticed the smell. For some odd reason he hadn't noticed it before, his head shook slightly, and he looked to Danger again. “I could have saved them.”

Then there was silence. Complete and total silence hung within the air. Five minutes passed, then minutes, he was sure that she was either asleep or completely gone at this point.

“Why save me?” Alric asked quietly, almost more to himself than her. “You could have let me die. Taken Blas-Tech with no real issue, kept me silent, all in one go.”

It was a question that had plagued his mind since she had begun to cut into him, since she had come for him. Why bother?

 

[Danger Arceneau]

His question would remain unanswered.

Not due to indifference, but because that concussion finally took hold. That and her weariness. She'd managed to listen quietly until he finished with his soul baring -- the minutes that ticked on by lulling her finally into unconsciousness.

So there she sat, leaning against the tent. None would recognize her as the buxom, perfectly poised and coiffed Trade Queen. There wasn't a shred of artifice on her face. Only dry blood, sand, and the salt of sweat. No tight hip hugging dress; just the stained beige of desert attire that did no favors to the voluptuous figure underneath it. Had she'd kept her head covered, her gender would have been indiscernible.

It certainly begged the question, looking at her now on just who Danger Arceneau really was?

For now though, the heat of the day would break through the tent and the Sand people left them be.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He watched her, his eyes following the soft rising and falling of her chest. Alric watched her relax, watched her body untense and the lines of her eyes grow softer. She had fallen into a deep sleep, and from the sound of her breaths, it was a very deep sleep.

Alric waited for a few moments more.

There was a serene calm about her, she had probably been tired beyond all belief. The splashes of her blood seemed to dot her clothing and face.

There was no hiding behind a painted face this time.

Slowly, Alric shifted on the cot again. He pushed himself up from the soft bound leather and sat on the side for a few seconds. The piercing pain in his sides were still there, the throbbing hurt. He frowned, but slowly managed to stand himself up, pushing to his feet with slow movements. Alric gently stretches himself to full height, finding his muscles were oddly well off.

He stretched, the pain in his side increasing, but the feeling of his muscles being almost as though he had been training.

Alric looked at the ground, then to Danger. Slowly and carefully he made his way through broken glass and a puddle of bodily fluid towards her. He crouched next to her, squatting. His muscles stretched slightly and it caused him to breath in deeply through his teeth, wincing slightly as the pain shot through him.

His arms wrapped around her, gently moving between her legs and at the small of her back.

Alric lifted Danger from the floor. His sides screamed at him, the nerves where her legs touched seemed to yell, but he ignored them. Instead he carefully lifted Danger and walked back over to the cot, he placed her on the soft leather, slipping his arms from out beneath her as he did so.

He sat himself down on the cot beside her, his hands settling in his lap.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Danger's limp form would roll onto her side, hands curling up by her face as she slept. Her hands were dirty, dirt and dry blood caked under her nails. Tiny cuts from the silver of mirror she'd used as a blade rand up and down the length of her right hand, the scarf she had used to cushion the sharp edges unable to completely prevent lacerations on her palm and fingers.

On the crown of her head, just a few inches down would be a thick bloody matted area where blood had clotted over her head. The Gaderffii stick manage to strike true in the back of her head, and a feel over the broken skin would reveal a large lump. She had a concussion; likely why she had attempted to stay awake through the night and day. However, her body clearly would not be denied.

Sleeping there, Danger Arceneau certainly didn't appear to be that all powerful Trade Queen. Was this really the woman who set a bounty on Subach Innes and had it run to the ground for daring to cheat in an auction? Was this the woman who in her wrath took on the Kajidics to get her pound of flayed flesh from Fjara the Hutt?


It certainly was strange to wonder, with her so quiet, the violet crescents under her eyes and the scattering of freckles over her cheeks and nose. Either way, she was certain to rest for a while.

That is, depending on if the A'Shar R'arr would let them.

What the morn would bring in terms of punishment yet remained to be seen.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

The day went by quietly.

The Tuskens left them alone for whatever reason, perhaps Alrics screams had made the weary, perhaps they thought him dead and Danger alone, or perhaps the stink of the tent simply made them want to stay away. Alric didn't know, he didn't care, but he was thankful.

Though he was still healing, he knew that Danger needed rest as much as he had.

There wasn't much that he could do for her. He had noticed the wound on her head from the Gadderfi stick and he had attempted to very gently untangle the mess of clotted blood and hair. It had taken a while, slowly crumbling away the dried blood one tiny flake at a time so as to not disturb Danger as she slept, eventually however he managed it, and was able to clear her hair of most of the gunk. After that he had cleaned some of the dried blood from her face, revealing hidden spots on her cheeks.

As for the wound...well he was no healer, and all he could do was ensure that she didn't accidentally bump it or somehow start the bleeding of it again. Other than that, Alric simply sat on the side of the cot.

A few times she bumped him with her knees, moving and shifting slightly as the hours went by.

As time passed Alric began to sweat, trails of odorous liquid moving down his side causing him a strange piercing pain. Involuntarily he bit down, fighting through the hurt, closing his eyes and grasping his leg to better work through it.

He spent hours doing that, simply fighting off a second wave of agony.

Part of him was thankful his back could not feel.

It was only when the tent began to cool, when the day had passed by and the sounds of the Tatooine night began to comeback that Alric looked at Danger once again, watching her as she slept with an icy calm.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Night began to fall, dusk painting the skies outside of the tent into streaks of burnt orange and indigo. Inside of the tent, both Danger and Alric waited, with the former finally stirring from her slumber.

Her brow drew tight, feeling the grime of sand and sweat bury over the wrinkles of her forehead. A slight wince and grimace swept her face at the dull throbbing ache at the back of her head. She would suck air through her teeth, then a curse would rip out in a low hush.

Her eyes would flutter open, her vision blurry. Tiny bits of sand and crud made tickled her eyes, prompting a sweep of her upper hand over both sockets to clean them out.

She gave a frown, registering where she was at. Why am I laying down?

That's when she noticed him. It was Kuhn, sitting there by the corner of the cot. He was leaning forward a bit, and she could she the subtle twitches of nerves over his back. The aspha mold was still working on him, and with it came the painful debt that its miracle healing provided. She gave a grimace.

Her attention would draw to their tent. Nothing had changed. So either they were left alone or she slept through it. With the noticeably cooler tent, she figured it was nightfall already.

Hands would rub her face.

Feth.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric heard the sounds of her awakening.

The quiet curse, the hissing of hair, and the movement of her hands on the cot. She wasn't very subtle when she awoke, though with that wound on her head and how tired she had been he didn't find that surprising, he doubted he would have been anymore quiet.

He had been thinking over the past few hours, concentrating. There weren't many moves in the game that they had left. The pieces had been shoved into places that saw them cornered, and Alric and Danger had few options left. He assumed that the Tuskens would come soon, to speak with them or interrogate them. They likely expected him to be done by now, either a corpse on the floor or suffering from an agonizingly slow death.

For some reason he doubted they knew about whatever Danger had used to heal him.

Even with the oddly painful side effects the stuff was a miracle cure, beyond Kolto or Bacta. His back was completely regrown, and though he could feel the scars when he touched it, Alric knew that most of his skin and muscles had returned.

Alric looked down at her, his eyes shifting from the tent wall to Dangers face.

She looked like she could sleep another day and a half. Her eyes were half open, her hair was a fluffy mess, and the set of her jaw looked like she could chew rocks. Oddly enough, Alric had never considered her more beautiful than she was now.

He said nothing to her. Even with those tiny spots on the bridge of her nose Danger looked rather fierce, like she would bite the head off the first thing that was presented to her. He doubted that she was completely cognizant yet, and he did not want to trouble her with his current line of thought, he doubted he would ever do so.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Her green eyes would lock onto his. A few more seconds went ticking on by in the pregnant silence. Then she gave a long exhale. Her head went rolling back as she turned over, staring a the ceiling for a couple of more seconds. He was dreadfully quiet-- and staring at her. Her mind would mull how she got from the ground to the cot, but she figured he was the one to blame for that.

Then hand that would rub her face would pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Either they cut out your tongue or you've done gone learned to keep your mouth shut. " there was no venom in her voice. It was just commentary. Her last interaction with him had him acting like an ass with anyone in a position of authority. The whip marks told that he was either foolish enough to had done so with the Tuskens or he did something stupid.

She would start to get up, rising into a sitting position. She had things to figure out. Clearly the Raiders hadn't checked on them. But did they get any water? Dehydration would send a mango their grave faster than anything else.

And she needed to replace the water she'd lost.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

“I was simply admiring the one thing worth looking at in here.” Alric said with genuine sentiment in his voice.

Even still it wasn't much of a compliment. Half of this tent was covered in blood, piss, and broken shards of mirror, the other half was simply dirt and leather. The sentiment however was still there, and he spoke truthfully for whatever it was worth.

Alrics hands dropped down, reaching for the water bottle under the bed.

With a strange sort of gentleness he placed it in her lap. There wasn't much left, but it would be enough to quench a bit of her thirst. He doubted that the Tuskens would be giving them anymore water, they likely thought what they had given Danger was enough for her.

Alric was supposed to be dead.

“I don't suppose anyone will come looking for you?” For some reason, he doubted that anyone would.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Danger took the water skin from him, a half brow arched at his compliment. The brief look she gave him said he was full of it, or perhaps simply wanted to believe that he was.

Either case, she made no comment about it. Instead she popped open the skein and started to sip the moisture farmed water. It had a hint of wet leather taste combined with the alkaline of the moisture equipment it had been farmed from. Not the best tasting, but it would hydrate her. No expression of complaint or grimace was there; she was well used to having to drink this kind of water.

"Three days or so." she finally said, her throat still feeling a bit rough. "A week or more before they'll track me down." she told him, her voice toneless. Slowly she rose to her feet, if a bit unsteadily. But she wasn't the sort to ask for help; the stubborn flex of her jaw told that loud and clear.

"Maybe longer." again that flat tone. "Wasn't itching to be bothered."

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric watched her carefully.

It wasn't that he was worried about her, no, Danger could take care of herself. It was only that he wanted to make sure that she was okay. She had been through a lot. True so had he, his entire back being cut open and healed in a single night, but Danger had been the one doing the cutting, with a head wound no less.

There was a slight sense of concern from him, if only because she had saved him.

In the back of his mind a voice reminded him why he was here, why he had come to Tatooine.

As she rose from the cot Alric thought about what had happened. The Replica Droid, the anger, Xo's response, his own brash decisions. He frowned slightly, reflecting on how foolish he had been. He should have planned this out more, he should have made sure it was safe. A grimace formed on his face, and for a second he lost concentration.

In that second, Danger lost her footing.

Standing with a concussion and a head wound was not always an easy thing. The mind played tricks and the senses were difficult to control, often dizziness, instability, and lack of balance.

Danger fell, tumbling off her feet. Out of sheer reaction Alric reached out to steady her. His head shooting up and his hands moving before he knew it. They landed on her hips, in familiar spots that caused flashes of memories to storm through his mind. His fingers pushed hard against her, steadying her on her feet and bringing her to a stop directly in front of him.

Alric looked up into Dangers eyes. “I see.”

He said quietly.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Well didn't Fate have a rather wicked sense of humor? Either way, balance or no, Danger gave a curt nod of thanks and took a step back and to the side to get away from those digits of pressure at her hips. If anything went through her mind, well that woman would be hard pressed to read. Oh there was some fire in her, but it was clear that in their current situation she wasn't about to focus on what lay six days gone.

Ain't how she did things.

Her lips drew thing and she'd turn away, running her fingers through her matted hair. She found it strangely easier to go through this time around than before. Could have well sworn she had it matted with blood back where she got clubbed. Granted, she had no clue that Alric had painstakingly done her some good with that. But she wasn't about to ask.

And truth be told he likely wasn't one to tell either.

One edge of the many scarfs she'd worn came tugging off, the long swath of sweat and grime covered muslin sending a cloud of dust into the air as she did so.

She shook her head, expression as stoic as ever. There was no sugar coating their situation. It was what it was.

Now it was a matter of if they would be able to survive it.

"Feth." came her muttered curse to the heavens and to generally everything. Already she was sorely cursing herself right and proper for being as stupid as she was to get caught.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

“Well...” Alric said finally speaking in a more usual tone. “I'm no expert in this type of thing, but I would say were well and truly fucked.”

There wasn't any sugar coating it. No amount of optimism or positive thinking would help this, they would either survive, or die. Of course Alric had had the last several hours to think about this, hid mind stretching over a thousand possibilities and outcomes, the unfortunate thing was that unlike Danger, he had no experience with the Tuskens.

He didn't know how they would react, what they would do, or even the basic tenants of their society.

Truth be told, though there was a game being played, Alric had never seen the board before.

A noise outside caught his attention. A shifting of clothes, a rustling and the sound of loud guttural voices. His head perked to the side, and his eyes caught Dangers for just a moment as they both realized what was going on. He stood from the cot, his torso covered in a fine layer of sweat, his sides and lower back still aching, the muscles beneath his flesh still knitting together.

The door was pushed aside and the heavy leather snapped open.

A wave of fresh air hit Alric like a truck, his nostrils filling with the scents of desert air. It was a rush larger than any hit of spice he had ever taken, for a second the CEO of Titan Industries swayed.

Then he caught himself.

A man walked into the Tent, at least Alric thought he looked like a man. With the Tusken clothes it was difficult to tell, but the mask and the broadness of his shoulders told of male qualities. He looked to Danger, then to Alric. There was a slight step back as the Tusken saw Alric standing, though it was easily missed.

He began to cry out in those guttural sounds, pointing to Danger with his Gadderfi stick, then more hesitantly to Alric, pointing them both out of the tent.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

"Լեթ մե գո!" Danger spat out, jerking her arm away from one of the Tusken Raiders. Although to be frank, it wasn't due to her demand as much as their suspicious curiosity at Alric Kuhn.

They acted as if he were a leper, keeping a wide circle from him. More garbled shouts and guttural words were tersely shot back and forth between the one male and the Trade Queen.

" Խե նգ սոուպպոսեդ թհե մո դեադ ! Դիդ ւոո սոութհ կիլլ չԵ !? " one began to jab at Alric with the end of his gaderffii stick.


" Խե սչոուլդ մո դեադ ! "


A sneer drew over Danger's lip, "Ւչգ նգ ՆԱ եթհեռս սթանթինգ ւիթհ?" her chin rose in defiance " ֆլեսչ անեւ բեինգ չիս վածկ ?! "

Her voice took on some dramatic flair, her hand suddenly thumping at her chest only to gesture with pointed emphasis at Kuhn.

"Թհե ծամե թհե ծլաիմ ԳԱԹ ւչիչ նգ մոնթհս! "

A low murmur would rise.

"Խե գապ բեհենիծ մառկեդ բծ եաչ Սադ Դեմոն , վաթհեդ նոթ չիս վլոո!"

Whatever it was she said certainly all of a sudden had them spooked.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he was smart enough to realize that the Tuskens were not only weary of him, but outright feared him after Danger was down shouting within their own guttural tongue.

He frowned slightly, then took a step forward.

The CEO of Titan Industries stretched himself to his full height and grasped the Gaderffii stick that had been pushed into his ribs. His sides pained him, sending throbbing bouts of agony throughout him, but it didn't matter at the moment. Ignoring the pain Alric pulled at the stick, the sacred weapon that the Tusken held so dear. In his fear the Tusken on the other end of the stick tumbled forward, falling towards the ground.

Alric jabbed a knee upward.

In a single jerking motions Alric jammed his kneecap into the Tuskens face, the crack of bone being heard as he fell to the floor in a heap. Alric held the mans Gaderffii stick in his own hands, white knuckle grip.

The Tuskens that had entered the tent seemed to growl and spit in that guttural tone, fear rushing through them and one or two of them actually running from the tent. A quick glance shot to Danger would see that Alric was still somewhat confused, but he had picked up on the general sense of what was going on.

Establish dominance.

It was a tactic in the game, a show of force. They clearly feared him for some reason, and although Alric had absolutely no reason why, he wasn't about to dismiss it out of hand.

A single slow step took him towards the pack of Tuskens.

They parted before him.

Out of fear, respect, or whatever it may have been the Tuskens in hushed guttural tones seemed to step aside and away from him, bowing slightly as they did so. Alric looked bewildered for a second looking to Danger with a very quick glance. He took her hand, and then before the other Tuskens could object shot out of the tent, dragging her with.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

The Tusken's parted like the proverbial Leefari Sea and they were off. Well, at least attempting to. Kuhn managed to grab her hand and jerked her to follow.

She didn't argue, no instead she made haste. The low murmur spreading in the crowd turned into a loud roar as chaos abounded. Things were certainly escalating.

Suspicion at Alric's miracle apparition of the healed flesh on his back drove the Tusken Raiders from their path, at times almost stumbling away as if he were some sort of cursed -- or blessed -- man.

"Go go go!" Danger would say under her breath, her eyes constantly scanning to perhaps find a hint of where her speeder was at. So far, no luck. They had precious time to get away before the Sand People would start to question them, their initial worry fading as curiosity would take root to determine just what had occurred.

"Keep your eyes peeled for the speeder." she'd tell him, only to continue spatting out in Tusken to feed into their paranoia and suspicion.