Modus Operandi Part I

Posted on Sat Feb 22nd, 2014 @ 9:25am by Morgo Le'Shaad & Berry & Nimo Lemere
Edited on on Sat Feb 22nd, 2014 @ 11:11am

4,242 words; about a 21 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: Street markets, Nadroj
Timeline: After "Cui Bono", Noon

OLD


“I don’t answer to you.” He stated, voice low and dangerous.

“No you don’t.” Morgo agreed smoothly, “But you answer to the success of this mission. If and when Zrad agrees to take me into custody, you may be the only thing separating me from certain death at his hands. For all intents and purposes, whether I will live or die, rests on your ability to stay his attention long enough for me to do my job—and for you to do yours.”

Sev looked away to the pazaak table, his gloved hands curling into fists at his sides—knuckles white as he imagined what he would do when he could finally reveal to Zrad that Sev was betraying him, just as Zrad had betrayed them all when he’d abandoned them to join the unruly Exiles at the height of war. A muscle in Sev’s jaw jumped as he bit down at the thought of finally taking the life of his wretched cousin.

“You leave that to me, Le'Shaad.” Was all Sev deemed to say, the rumble of his voice low and dark.


NEW


“This would be a good fit for you, Berry.”

The air was cool and humid as Morgo slipped her hand into a garment hanging on the merchant’s stand, gently rubbing the black fabric between her thumb and forefinger. The quality of the weave was less than ideal, but it was thick and would stand rough wear. Such was the garments of those who worked in the dense forests of the planet to log the lumber. Grey eyes peering out from behind black silk, Morgo wore a loose headscarf, which covered her hair and wrapped around to cover her mouth as well. Morgo had thought it a necessary precaution to take in covering her face, now that the HoloNet broadcast featuring her picture and her new bounty was showing at every corner of the galaxy. She didn’t expect that anyone on this poor planet would recognize her, but it never hurt to be careful.

Besides, Morgo happened to be the only blonde for what seemed like miles around, and drawing extra attention from the natives was never a good thing to do. There was a curious genetic phenomenon within the population of the planet—everyone was a brunette with black hair and blue eyes. They seemed to lack the recessive genes that resulted in fair hair, as well as the dominant genes that resulted in dark eyes.

And Morgo’s curiosity was piqued when a man selling purple and red tubers from his cart had grasped her scarf in his dirty hand and babbled to her about how wonderful it was that she had come up from the underground caves of the north and made the journey to visit their market, his blue-violet eyes glued to the blonde locks of hair that poked out from beneath her head scarf.

If there really were humans living underground in the northern region, Morgo supposed they were exclusive blondes from the man’s reaction. And Morgo was utterly fascinated with why they were separated from main society, and why they lived underground. Had they not been on a time table, Morgo would have loved to study this small planet and its population.

Switching her attention back to her prospective buy for Berry, she inspected the black garment closer, quite liking how it was loose enough to allow movement and breathability, which was something Morgo though Berry would appreciate. Looking down and the part-Aquar girl, picking at some jewelry at a nearby stand, Morgo arched an eyebrow.

“Berry, are you listening to me?”

Apparently not, as the golden-green girl was busy holding up a more golden beetle to the sky, peering with her dark eyes. Ah, such splendor! The way the dim murky sun glittered off the curved wing case, how the two eyes sparkled with little stones set in it.

Berry’s own eyes reflected and magnified the sparkle, the part-Aquar dazzled. “Oohh,” she breathed, gazing at the beetle.

Pale eyes rolling was the only movement visible on Morgo's half-concealed face as the women reached out and plucked the black tunic from a bent and rusted iron hangar. Morgo could practically see the enthralled twinkle in Berry's eyes as she inanely turned the gold beetle pendant back and forth in the sun to watch fallow light dance upon it. The woman wouldn't be getting anything done by asking for Berry's cooperation now, not when her attention was so intently glued on the jewelry stand. And by the blue, evil eye the woman behind said stand shot at her for daring to try to distract a potential customer from her wares, Morgo would be better off doing things herself.

Assessing Berry's backside from behind, Morgo held the black tunic up before her, juxtaposing the garment onto Berry's form in her mind's eye. When Berry leaned to the right, so too did Morgo's arm move to the right to follow Berry's figure. And when Berry started to hop up and down for whatever reason, Morgo sighed, still trying to measure up the garment to Berry's (estimated) measurements—chasing the girl's movements with the hanging shirt like a Mother would to a restless child on a shopping trip. It became tiresome—to say the least—very quickly.

Sighing sharply between her teeth, Morgo's reprimand was flat, "Hold still, you twitching idiot." She huffed quietly, the black covering her mouth fluttering with her breath, "And put that pendant down. You don't touch what you aren't going to buy—and I am not letting you waste your credits on a stained gold beetle pendant with a second rate, semi-precious gemstone inset." She informed the girl with such practiced disdain, it was clear Morgo once had a career staring down her nose at less than top-quality products.

Berry pouted her lips, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the bejeweled beauty. Semi-precious? Why, the pendant was semi-amazing! If it had horns it’d be one hundred percent, but Berry was generous. Semi-amazing was still something to boast about. It was like…a salad with only half of it being green. Still really good!

“But Darleeeene,” came the inevitable whine. “It’s really pretty and I like it…”

Impressed as she was that Berry had remembered to use her alias, Morgo was nevertheless adamant as she shook her clothed head, "It is a poor piece of craftsmanship that is obviously a rushed work." She stated, arching a fine brow and pointing a delicate finger, "The beetle's thorax is warped due to a poor choice of gold alloy and its extremities, though carefully crafted in shape, are not symmetrical. And a disfigured beetle around anyone's neck is never flattering." said Morgo, tone flat.

Wandering amid the primitive market stalls was a man whose hair also, like Morgo, did not match the indigenous people. Unlike Morgo, however, he did not care to hide it, the harsh but dim sunlight making it almost bright red…and dry. Nimo frowned to the side, almost a glare, as he pulled on a strand. He needed a long soak in the tub after this…

He used the market as his veil, shrouding himself in tuber-laden carts and traveling vendors, their shoulders sagging with products. He moved among them, quick and quiet, sharp blue eyes darting around him.

But the hunter did not have to work so hard for his prey. After all, it was noisier than a happy pod of dolphins. Or at least…her golden-green companion.

For his eyes spotted another foreign lock of hair, bright gold contrasting with the dark veil. And those eyes…colder than his own, and maybe even sharper. What a refined lady like herself was doing with a child he could not even begin to guess. But at least he found his target.

His eyes narrowed before he disappeared behind a cart passing closer and closer to the stall.

Something prickled at the back of Morgo's neck as she stood there. Looking up, her faintly narrowed gaze swept across the bustling crowed, eyes primed for a figure out of place, or an individual making a poor excuse of blending in, but finding no one. Her instincts had saved her a hundred times over before, so she did not doubt them. But perhaps today, of all days, Morgo conceded that perhaps she was being somewhat paranoid. There was no doubt Morgo was tense, especially after her argument with Berry and her conversation with Sev. They would be purchasing supplies on this planet as well as making contact with Zrad. After this, they would be heading into the lion's den. Morgo faintly shivered and she could not blame it on the breeze.

Looking back at Berry, Morgo turned to face the man selling the black garments she was keen on purchasing for Berry. Idly negotiating the price with the merchant, Morgo was charged a fair price and promptly paid it. After all, she did not want to be more conspicuous than she already was by refusing to haggle the price. Some cultures were even offended if you tried to pay the printed price.

"Come now, Berry." Morgo absently beckoned, "If you don't want the wrath of our resident Mandalorian to rain down upon you for lingering to buy frivolous things, especially at a time like this, you'll put that beetle down and follow me."

“Or,” said a voice—one filled with the confidence seen in his swagger and his smirk— “You could buy it.”

He spoke pleasantly, charm shining through the smirk nonetheless. His long jacket, made of fine skins that could beat back sands and winds and water, fluttered behind him as he drew to a halt. A small flat jewel with many facets dangled from his right ear, swinging gently. Golden wire surrounded it, curling at the top as if a tendril. He cocked his head at the pair, but his eyes were soley on Morgo. “You’ll buy it, won’t you?”

Berry truly hopped for a reason now. “Yes!”

Morgo’s eyes were also arrested by this newcomer, her gaze rising from worn boots, to his strange garb, to blue eyes that Morgo could tell were too clever by half to be good news. She was immediately struck by the strange purple-red of his hair and his stubble, clearly not a native of Nadroj. Eyes flicking from the man to the stand of jewelry and back, Morgo immediately discarded the idea that this man could be the jeweler woman’s business partner—taking in her strange expression of veiled confusion and surprise at his appearance and making her conclusion. Not a native and not a foreign merchant, then.

The handsome stranger smiled as he looked upon her, his long teeth vaguely predatory in its edge, and Morgo was instantly alert. In any other situation, she may have even paused to assess his effortless charm, the kohl-lined eyes that twinkled with dark mischief, and the bow of his lips that would have made something in her chest twinge with the memory of someone back home—but that was not this situation. And her expression betrayed nothing as she gazed back at the man, all at once polite and dismissive.

“I believe I’ve made it clear that we won’t be buying, sir.” She responded levelly. Berry could wish all she wanted, but it was Morgo who held the purse. As if she would trust something like that with Berry on this planet of nimble fingers.

And suspicious men, Morgo added mentally, as neither man nor woman seemed willing to let up their unofficial staring-contest.

His smirk widened at the challenge before him. “We? Unless you’re harboring someone else in that veiled body of yours, I doubt it.” His blue eyes looked her over dismissively before he swung his gaze onto Berry. “You want that pendant.”

“Yeah!” Berry exclaimed.

Nimo smiled at the vendor. “How much is it, may I ask?”

The old woman was sharp, even for a native. The number she spouted out from her wrinkly lips drew a sharp look from him.

Berry gasped. “Aw!” Her eyes darted to Morgo, as if waiting to see if she would work her people magic…or tell her “no” for the umpteenth time.

This time, real displeasure glimmered in Nimo’s eyes.

Something in Morgo's stomach tightened at the glint in the stranger's eyes, yet her voice remained even, " As expected. Priced steep while it remains chea—"

“We’ll buy it.”

Nimo had his smirk back, and he crossed his arms, almost as if…triumphant in defying Morgo. Was this his last gesture before capturing her? Or was it something else?

Something flashed behind Morgo's eyes—was it a spark of challenge? Or perhaps irritation? It would remain a mystery, however, since any indicator of emotion disappeared as quickly as it surfaced.

Morgo's mind filed through for possible motives the stranger had for buying Berry the trinket. Had he simply been a passerby wanting to please a girl, his attention would not be so divided between Morgo and Berry. His outright challenge to Morgo told her that she herself was part of man's equation as well...and it made Morgo uneasy.

"Very well. Be it on your purse." She informed the man icily, not wanting to create a scene or associate the stranger any further. Turning, Morgo gave Berry a pointed look from over her shoulder, "Pocket the trinket and thank the good sir for the gift, Berry. And come. We've lingered long enough in this place."

“Have you?” Nimo asked lightly as he retrieved his “purse,” flipping his robe open with a flourish and handing the stunned vendor her money. His lids lowered, as did his voice into a murmur so snide in its sultry sarcasm. “You’re quite generous with money when you have so much of it.”

He handed the pendant into Berry’s eager hands, but his gaze—no, his glare—remained on Morgo. “That you’re even attempting to save up even more is disgusting in its hypocrisy,” he almost spat.

Berry paused in the middle of her adoration of the sacred relic she acquired to furrow her brow at her new benefactor. “Hey, that’s not nice.” She didn’t really know what “hypocrisy” meant but she could hear the spite in his voice all the same.

“Nice?” Nimo repeated, smiling tightly at Berry as if her words stunk like the pile of rotted tubers on the edge of the market. “If you call someone who only thinks of herself as nice.” He gestured to Morgo, eyes narrowing. “She’s just a rich mercenary looking out for her next opportunity at helping herself.”

The vendor stared, finding a parents’ quarrel quite unbecoming, even in the public market.

Morgo leveled the man with an unaffected look, her eyes half-lidded as all her utter indifference to the stranger bled through. From his words, it was clear that this was no random stranger. He knew her. A bounty hunter, then.

"Since you apparently know me so well," She began flippantly, pushing back her black headscarf to reveal her face, one errant stand of hair catching on the dark paint of her lips, "you'll also know that I didn't get to my level of wealth by spending frivolously—as you seem so keen on doing."

Laughing shortly, Morgo's smile was devoid of mirth, "However, as you are so obviously the expert on successfully making it in the universe," She said, pointedly eyeing the stranger's ruffled and worn appearance, "if you think the galaxy would benefit from my wandering the planets distributing my wealth to paupers, then by all means allow me..." She said, reaching into her purse and removing two credit chips.

Making a show of holding the chips between her fingertips and extending them to the stranger, Morgo's eyes turned cruel, "...to start with you."

And Morgo promptly let the credits fall to the man's muddy boots, as if he were a beggar with a tattered hat by the street corner.

Grabbing Berry by the shoulder, Morgo turned and walked away and took the girl with her, her pace brisk, hoping to put as many people and as much distance between them and the bounty hunter as possible without causing a crowd-level uproar.

“Ow!” Berry yelped, pulling away.

Nimo’s eyes widened, not in anger at Morgo’s attempt at humiliation, but rather what she just did. He smiled tightly, lifting his boot to stomp onto the credits as he strode after them. “No. You get your wealth by exploiting those who are inferior to you—like how a noble does it.”

Morgo ignored him, not even bothering to formulate a reply to his nonsense as he trailed behind them. Though Morgo was a little curious as to why he hadn't simply opened fire at her by now, seemingly too occupied by his spiel of self-righteousness.

Berry pouted at this handsome stranger as they walked. “But she’s not a noble anymore. She’s running from the government and—”

“Once a noble, always a noble!” Nimo snapped. “Always thinking about themselves and using their power for themselves.”

“That’s not true,” Berry replied, frowning seriously now at him with her dark, wide eyes. “People change. I’ve met a lotta people who seemed selfish at first, but…then they became my friends. My family.” She smiled faintly over at Morgo. Even though they had their differences, at least the shady lady still looked out for her. And she didn’t have to do that, either…even Berry knew that.

Nimo’s brow twitched, and the droplet jewel swung wildly from his ear with the increasing force of his gesticulations. “So you’re saying this noble—this murderer and a liar—is family??”

Berry shrugged, smiling faintly. “She doesn’t have to be.”

Morgo blinked down at Berry as they turned a corner of the street, "Berry, darling, he's not worth it. "She assured, "Defending my honor, while appreciated, is unnecessary. It's hardly the first time I've been accosted by angry persons. Let's just try to ignore him, yes?" Morgo said under her breathe, eyes darting about at the curious gazes they were drawing.

Nimo stomped after them, losing his cool in the face of such coolness. “What a stupid name for a stupid girl,” he muttered. Then he pointed a finger at Morgo. “You may care about her, Berry, but who says she cares about you the same way?” He stabbed the finger in the air. “She’s a dangerous criminal, and you better get out of the way…” He smirked, saying sultrily, “Before I turn her in.”

The part-Aquar gasped, eyes widening. “You wouldn’t do that!”

“How do you know what I would or wouldn’t do?” Nimo responded with a sneer.

As they verged upon the edge of the market, an empty expanse upon the perimeter of a tangled, green forest, Morgo’s patience was reaching its end. Under normal circumstances, she would have given the man all the attention of marble statue. But always trust the addition of Berry into the mix to make things worse.

Digging the thick heel of her boot into the dirt, Morgo turned abruptly, face as inscrutable as stone. So sudden was the turn that Berry narrowly avoided running into her front, bouncing off the woman’s flank with a squawk. But Morgo was immovable.

Grey eyes unreadable from beneath dark lashes, Morgo’s hand hovered over thigh, her cortosis staff strapped there—blue wrapped steel against the black of her leg.

“Oh, do try not to be so dull.” Morgo admonished, voice flat and chill as alabaster in winter, “You won’t turn me in because you’d have to apprehend me first to do that.” She spoke, the tails of her headscarf fluttering gently in the wind, now resting on her shoulders. “Four score and plenty more have tried and failed to handle me, bounty hunter. At least try to be a little original before you fail, yes?”

Stance elegant, but ready, the woman’s dark lips curled into false smile that was sweet and mocking.

Nimo smiled back as well, his own smile steady despite the choppy blue waves in his eyes. “This is as original as it gets for you, ex-Scholar.” He smirked now, holding only contempt for the duchess. "To think, you'd actually be accompanied when I arrest you. The Holonets will be exploding with the knowledge the duchess actually has company. Quite original, is it not?" He was about ready to clap for himself, by the look of his pleased smirk.

Months ago, Morgo might have flinched at the sharp reminder that she was no longer a Scholar of Dromache, of the reminder of how far she had fallen, of the intense shame of such a dishonor. But that was then—this was now, and the knowledge that she might never reclaim what was rightfully hers no longer stung. The cold objectivity of space would do that to you.

“If you were expecting a congratulatory kiss because you managed to read a public file, I’m afraid you’re in for a disappointment.” She responded, eyebrow arching with pure derision.

The bounty hunter began to pace, each step deliberate. The breeze caused the tail of his leather jacket to flap, and his red locks fluttered over that intense gaze. “I didn’t have to look that far to realize just how alone someone like you would be in a situation like this,” he spoke, words carried to the women by the wind. His eyes narrowed. “Isolated in your abundant knowledge, in your distrust of anything that breathes.” He gestured to Berry. “So how could you treat this lackey any differently?”

He stopped walking, his body seeming to stiffen with a restrained rage as he leveled a simmering glare at the woman. Each word he spoke dripped in disgust. “How could you do anything else but use her like you’ve done to everyone you’ve met?”

Morgo said nothing for a moment, her lips parting after a pause—probably to communicate just how delightful she thought it was that she could stir such violent anger in one person. Look how the man cared . But whatever Morgo might’ve said was promptly cut off when—

“She doesn’t use me!” Berry protested. She scampered towards the man, putting herself between Morgo and him. Her braids stuck out as she frowned. “I actually use her, if you think about it. She makes sure I don’t waste my money and I have the right clothes for our missio—”

“You,” Nimo snarled, his anger snapping back into view. “Stay out of this.” He stepped forward and shoved her back.

Berry winced, which was a surprise—but not really, as Nimo had pushed her hard in the chest. Right where her scars were. She stumbled only a little before she regained her footing and glared back at him. “I’m not.”

“Why,” Nimo began through gritted teeth, “Do you always have to butt in, you stupid girl.”

And, before anyone noticed movement, a staff exploded to life in his hands. He spun it once around him, the ends crackling with golden arcs of energy. It was a sleek weapon on its own, gleaming silver. Three golden bands wrapped around the staff, little circlets with curling tendrils dotting each band as if in decoration. His own eyes seemed to sizzle with anger as he glared at the girl despite who his words were aimed at. “I’m taking you in, Morgo Le’Shaad.

Berry stood her ground, frowning at him.

Immediately, Morgo’s arm snapped out with precise force, her cortosis stave extending itself in an instant within her grasp as she flourished her open hand from her opponent to the air beside her in a graceful arc that signaled the acceptance of a duel. A beam of white ignited like a spearhead of starlight at one end while the other mirrored the man’s electrostaff, humming to life with silver energy. Her body remained composed, but in Morgo’s eyes flashed a cold ferocity that she only ever allowed herself in battle. For while the man himself was unwilling to kill her, as his choice of weapon revealed, Morgo herself held no such qualms.

“You have my permission to try.”

Nimo quickly lowered into his stance, his smirk toothy as he looked almost feral in his eagerness to fight. “Your existence is enough permission for me.”

Berry’s brows furrowed as her lips parted. The water currents around these two had suddenly quickened in the last few minutes, streaming fast under an illusion of calm water. Were they really going to fight? She winced again at the burst of intent from the stranger.

Then the dust kicked up as Nimo leapt forward, electrostaff flying down onto Morgo with the confidence of the first, all-out swing.

“Morgo, look out!”


[TBC]

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