Ruby Taungsday
Posted on Mon Mar 16th, 2020 @ 7:44pm by Bomoor Thort & Thane & Amare
4,615 words; about a 23 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter VI: The Last Bastion
Location: Wastes, north of the capital, Sleheyron, Hutt Space
Timeline: Week Three (Evening of "A Muun of Wealth and Taste"; four days after "Thy Master's Bidding"/Mustafar)
OLD
Scivo resumed his stiff sitting position. "When you are successful, the synthspice operation and the nearby Republic sectors will be under our influence. There is another level to this whole conspiracy - one that I have gathered significant intelligence on that you will find of great interest. However, we will not meet after tonight's events. I will return to my office and will address you and your friend after the fact, at which point I will share the details of this research." Scivo brought his hands together, but he did not allow himself even a small smile. Instead, he just stated, "Unlike control of Undervos and the synthspice, this data will be of more value to Lord Serus than I, I believe. You will find the information especially illuminating."
Amare stared at Scivo for a few silent seconds, pondering his peculiar mannerisms and his promise of spicy information. She did not have much reason to distrust him given what he stood to gain from Gatill's and Yaxley's removal from the equation, but she also wondered if she was being used in a setup to increase the Muun's standing with his colleagues. No doubt if she failed the mission, Scivo had a contigency in mind to spin the negative outcome to his benefit, at least, that's what she would do in his shoes. Regardless, failure was simply not an option, but she couldn't help but think back to her lamentations with her mother back on Mustafar, remember her feelings that she was little more than just a weapon for Thane's mask called Serus...or perhaps Thane was the mask all along, just as Zaracoda was for her.
With slight bow of her head to Scivo she rose up to her feet, and stopped just short of opening the door. Without turning to look at the financier, she warned, "If I sense the slightest hint of treachery from you tonight, I will add a third to the list." And with that, she gently opened the door and departed with soundless footfalls like a forgotten old ghost in the night.
NEW
One last job...or was it two? Jain wasn't sure, but if he could just keep his eyes open long enough for the suits in the smelly factory to finish their business, then he could call it a career and start his own deep sea fishing business like his father before him.
"All sectors, sit-rep," came the voice of the Jain's supervision over the comlink wired to his ears. One by one, the squad leads of each designated sector around the Sleheyron factory gave the expected all-clear.
"Not a peep, not a sound on the western front," Jain lazily reported back from his position on the outer perimeter. Typically, he was the second-stringer in one of the three or four-man patrols, but he drew the short death-stick this time and was left to wander by his lonesome. Not that he minded; these protection gigs were generally cake walks with few exceptions. A group of powerful people who he never meets gets together in strange places, spends about four to six hours blathering about their secret business schemes, drinking copiously, and occasionally indulging in the exotic pleasures offered, be it of the chemical or fleshy variety.
As his mind wandered under the night sky, Jain thought he heard someone whispering nearby. He stopped, listened, heard silence followed by a light gust of chilly wind, and soldiered on.
"I really need to get more sleep," he grumbled to himself just before he thought he heard the voice of his ex-wife of whom he recently received news of her death in a diving accident in a pool that his alimony money helped pay to build. "Kalee?" He called out as he stopped and glanced around, gripping his blaster rifle a bit tighter. Seeing nothing, he shook his head and took a hand off his weapon to rub his forehead. "Unreal, now I'm hearing voices. C'mon you rich idiots. Finish your stupid meeting so I can crash for the night."
"I'm sorry, can you say that again?" came the voice of one of the boys in Sector 2 close to where the VIP's were gathered deep in the factory. There was loud music blasting away in the background.
"W-what? Oh! Nothing, nothing at all!" Jain stammered his reply. He made certain his comlink was off, shocked that he forgot to end the signal after his report. In twenty years in security work, he never made a mistake like that.
A cheerful giggle from a little child brushed by him in that moment, and he immediately whirrled around pointing his rifle at nothing but thin air. The voice reminded him of his late little brother.
"Miss you, darling," came Kalee's voice from the other direction, but she wasn't there either.
"You need more sleep, Jain!" came the innocent voice of his little brother again coming from all directions.
"What's...what's going on...get out of my head..." Jain groaned, feeling weaker and more exhausted by the moment. "You're both dead...how is this...what do you want?"
"To help you sleep," came a whispered voice right next to him. When Jain turned, he barely had a split second to see the deliverer of his journey's end. The last thing he witnessed were the dark eyes of a young Nautolan woman right before a violent flash of green light cut across his face ensuring that he would end his watch that night never needing to worry about sleep ever again.
Undervos Holdings Factory, Foreman's Office
"This place'll be a fine chemical feather in your proverbial corporate cap," Jove Gatill said pleasantly from the large window overlooking the main factory floor of the sprawling chemical plant. His Corellian-accented drool was perfectly accompanied by the lazy way by which he held his champagne flute, which had already been drained of the amber-coloured liquid that was being offered to, and enjoyed by, most of the gathered revellers for the evening's entertainment below.
Arranged where there would usually be barrels, heavy equipment, staff, and all manner of technical machinery and grime was instead several large tables, perfectly arranged by the catering staff and well-attended by numerous scantily-clad females of various species, as well as the occasional smartly-clad waiter. Each bore plates, bowls and platters with a grand assortment of foodstuffs and beverages that were suitable for a wide range of sentient species expected to be in attendance, being that the guests were all senior board members and executives of the two host companies: Undervos Holdings and Yaxley Galactic Solutions, the latter being an influential and semi-autonomous subsidiary of GalactaWerks Corporation.
"Indeed," Hesk Scivo, Gatill's Muun financial director for Undervos Holdings, added.
He was stood further back within the foreman's office, his beverage clasped firmly in one hand and untouched, whilst the other was held against his back in an almost military fashion. He eyed one of the Cartel guards by one of the two doors situated at either side of the office briefly, before offering a thin, polite-if-forced smile to Yaxley. He raised his glance in pleasant salute to the Arkanian. "And my compliments on the beverage. You have exquisite taste." Scivo sipped the drink, making no display of either dissatisfaction or enjoyment.
Miriam Yaxley held up the clear sparkling drink in front of her pale, pupil-less eyes; the curves of the glass accentuated their size so they appeared as wide as a Nautolan's, "I do not indulge often, but I have quite the fondness for Tallian Champagne, particularly when the company is just as sparkling." She took the most cursory of sips before resting the flute down once again and picking up a white personal datapad, with gold detailing about the edges, in her four-fingered grip, "If you care for the beverage, Mr Scivo, I shall arrange a crate to be delivered to you. It's no trouble at all."
She paced forwards and looked around the space her company, Yaxley Galactic Solutions, was purchasing before typing down a couple of values into her datapad, "The least we can do to celebrate the conclusion of our negotiations today," she stressed the sentence particularly in Hesk's direction, making it clear she intended that he present no further objections to the merger.
With a thin-lipped unreadable smile, Scivo said, "Quite."
"Aw, lighten up, Hesk," Jove declared cheerfully, placing what he considered to be a friendly, if slightly overbearing, hand on the Muun's thin shoulder, an act which caused Scivo to suppress a wince, which was then artfully adapted into another thin smile for the benefit of his audience. "This is a good thing for all of us. Undervos gets a healthy injection of credits into its coffers, you can look to retire a little earlier and Zorbo gets to work with a director that's much easier on the eyes!" He gestured with his other hand towards Yaxley and squeezed Scivo's shoulder slightly. "Now, there's no need for us to waste any more time up here just watching the party Ms Yaxley's 'mysterious benefactor' has put on for us; it's not often we get to enjoy such rich hospitality away from prying eyes, and we aren't even paying for it." Jove finally released the Muun's shoulder and started walking towards the doorway, the Gamorrean guard already jamming his stubby fingers into the panel to open it for the Undervos CEO. "Make the most of it, huh? After tonight goes through, you'll never have to deal with me again!"
It had been a harrowing infiltration that easily consumed the better part of a half-hour. The first guard had been a much-needed test of her developing powers; "latching" onto the man's soul through her ability to drain what little Force energy that flowed through his cells, and making him face his guilt and pain had been a captivating experience. Though she took no particular joy in slaying him, she knew it had to be done to minimize her risk of being revealed. The thick, reinforced perimeter wall was too lofty for her to jump over--even with the Force-- and too thick to cut through. The masked guard had been the one thing between her and the only entry point she could breach with her shoto. Dumping his body into a nearby ravine after a ten meter drop, and watching it wash out to the nearby sea would have been amusing for her to watch had she possessed the time to linger and gawk at her latest act of murder.
Through a combination of darting from cover to cover under the night sky, concealing herself behind crates, metalwork, pipes, processing tanks, and the occasional burst of summoning the veil of the dark side's power when cover was minimal, Amare had felt the sweat on her bare brows, and the exhilarating rush of traipsing about so close to death with each clueless patrol she bypassed. There were moments when instinct took over and she found herself having cartwheeled and acrobatically somersaulted to get where she needed to with greater ease, balance, and precision than she had ever managed before; silly, showy maneuvers she hadn't attempted since she was a child exploring the wilderness of the crescent-shaped island where she had been raised as a cub among the Wolphs.
With all surface-level entrances well-guarded with heavily armed and armoured sentries, security droids, and surveillance devices, Amare decided her only hope of penetrating the inner sanctum of the factory proper was a subterranean approach. When behind cover, she could close her eyes and feel a strong flow of water beneath her somewhere close. She remembered her lessons with her mother back on Mustafar, and how she learned to feel the magma beneath the surface simply by having used the Force to enhance her senses and stretched them out to feel the flow through those fiery underground passages. Here, the water wasn't nearly as powerful or deadly as Mustafar's molten lava, but she knew there had to be an access point somewhere...
A short time later, the water around Amare had felt warm and tasted a bit salty and mineral-rich after dropping in from the hatch above. Finally back in her element, she swam gracefully through a flooded basement-level corridor lined in lead and reinforced steel. Whilst her amphibian lungs could breathe in oxygen within the rusted environment, each aquatic breath was mildly uncomfortable and potentially dangerous with possible metallic contamination in the water.
Upon swimming through a winding tube which fed into another corridor, she took notice of what appeared to be a large industrial turbine to her right that was back-lit with small diodes of soft white light. She turned to her left and saw another tube at the far end that she could sense had led deeper towards the complex above.
Swimming about about halfway to the tube, she was startled to hear what sounded like a loud noise of machinery powering up behind her. Feeling the stillness of the water start to slowly shift against her, she glanced over her shoulder and her eyes widened with horror to see the turbine starting to slowly spin in a direction that was pulling the water--and Amare--towards it. She scrambled with all her might to swim against the current, doubling her strokes at a frantic pace, but the turbine's speed exceeded her power to resist. The cascading rush of drawn water started to pull her back more and more. There was no power in her repertoire that she knew of to control the situation, and the endurance in her arms and legs--though capable of competing with even the most gifted of human athletic swimmers--was starting to fail her. She was dragged all the way back to the first tube from which she emerged into the corridor, and with barely a couple of meters between it and the turbine, she flailed and half-expected to be ground to bits at any second. Her left hand tried to reach out to grab the outer edge of the tube opening, but instead, much to her surprise, found purchase of something that felt like a handle flanking the opening. She grabbed it as hard as she could muster, her knuckles turning ivory white against her cerulean blue skin, and her left arm under such intense pressure that it felt like it was close to dislocating the shoulder socket. She tried to move her right hand, but the incredible current made it impossible for her to bring it around to support her left hand's grip on the maintenance handle.
She could start to feel her fragile grip slipping, and she closed her eyes, thought inward, and could hear crying...her crying.
Mother...no...
Zaracoda's adopted mother, Callotrebla, was seen dying on the freighter floor again through her mind's eye, the pirates having lied about sparing her life if Coda willingly shot her adopted father dead. In spite of all the immediate danger on the outside, the part of Amare that was still Coda felt more concerned about her love for the ones she lost rather than the instant death that was about to end their past, present, and any possible future.
Amare...please...do something...save her...save us!
The lady that had become Sith had nevertheless refused to let go of her love for family. She knew it stemmed from girlish selfishness and her deepest fear of being alone, but Amare had come to realize why this dark part of her came into being--Amare was Coda's protector, her sword and her shield. Amare was there all along, protecting Coda, giving her the strength to do what was necessary to fight back and survive. Back when those pirates attacked, Amare lacked the power and will to destroy them. To see Callotrebla's corpse on the floor again infuriated Amare, and inspired her with uncanny resolve to turn around, and face the turbine like it had been the pirate captain himself, the man who put that blaster in her hand and tricked her into killing the only father she ever knew or loved.
Amare's scowl was fierce as she opened her right hand and channeled all the lessons she knew about the Force, and willed its power to reach out and reduce the speed of the large metal blades. Gradually, the rotations per minute began to slow, and the further it went on, the harder it became to push back at the machine. Amare's voice built up into a crescendo of a defiant water-muffled scream, air bubbles blasting from her mouth with the fury of boiling blood as she slowed the blades to a point where she had near-total freedom of movement again. She shifted her legs into the tube beside her and let go of her Force-empowered hold on the turbine. She pulled herself into the tube in time just as the turbine started to regain its previous rotational speed. While there was a current in the tube drawing towards the turbine, it wasn't strong and Amare began to make her back to the access hatch, angry that her clever underwater route was a complete failure, and that she might not find another way in, but then suddenly a noise indicated that something was powering down the turbine behind her.
She turned and wondered if her slowing of the turbine had caused a malfunction. She paddled back towards the corridor again, and waited with tense anticipation for a half-minute, and sure enough, the turbine turned back on, and spun for about the same amount of time as it had previously. There was a definite timed pattern to it, and to two others beyond the first. It was a reliable on/off pattern which assured her watery passage was indeed the best way forward. All she needed was patience, and swimming quickly from tube to tube. By the time she was top-side again, she hoped she hadn't spent too long in the flooded drifts to get to her targets in time.
When she found another access hatch, she crawled out, exhausted, panting, and in a small maintenance room with lockers for various cleaning supplies and tools. She quickly checked her waist pack and saw her shoto and slicing computer were still there and mostly untouched by her water-logged trek. She sat down for a moment to catch her breath and meditate for a moment to recharge and refocus her thoughts. It was then she heard Coda inside speak to her again...
Last night, we had a dream...do you remember it? Our family was dead...
...but it was all right.
A cheer erupted from the gathered businessfolk on the factory's main floor, adapted as it had been serve as a surprisingly dignified and presentable venue for the event. A good selection of the more senior figures, with more representatives from Yaxley Galactic Solutions actually being present, had gathered for the impromptu toast put forward by both Yaxley herself and Gatill, although the latter was seemingly more intoxicated than his female counterpart.
He plucked another two long-stemmed glasses from a passing Twi'lek server's shining silver platter, winking weakly at the exotic Hutt servant as he did. Whilst the alcohol had not made him any more charming, it had certainly resulted him being more outgoing. Above, from his very visibly position up in the foreman's office, Scivo was watching the party with thin, dispassionate eyes, but Gatill paid him no mind.
"Your friend's sent us some fine entertainment," he said happily, eyes still following the barely-dressed woman as he spoke to Yaxley, passing her the spare glass. "Might even have to see one of those side rooms I'm hearing good things about." He now looked back to Yaxley, an eyebrow briefly raised in a lecherous manner. "Not that an aspiring senator would think to be involved in such things. Of course, I wouldn't have thought an aspiring senator would, uhh... Well, that said..." He gestured towards one of the large chemical barrels piled up against one of the far walls, joined as it was by dozens of similar-looking, warning-laden containers.
Yaxley gave a small but convincing smile towards the Human, "My aspirations aside, such entertainment is not my particular vice. But my business partner assures me that the service these ladies provide is first class. Something a man like yourself should get used to being offered."
She crept around the edge of the buffet table, but did not touch a morsel, "Go, enjoy yourself. I am more than content here in the company of Mr Scivo, if he isn't planning on a dance himself. Just make sure you return in time for desert. You must see the tremendous cake I was able to order; it promises to be even sweeter than anything you'll find in there."
"Goodness, Linni, took you look enough to get here!" said the wrinkly older human supervisor for the evening's entertainment girls. She was powdering her face and straightening the frilly white collar of her lime green business pantsuit in front of a mirror when Linni, a cream-coloured Twi'lek girl came into the makeshift dressing room.
"Sorry, mum," Linni said as she put her black leather purse into a locker. "Security's tight here. They patted me down in places they shouldn't have. Buncha jerks! Hey, where's my outfit?"
"They moved the costumes into another room," the supervisor replied. "Don't ask me why. Something about decontamination. One of the big shots has an allergy to something I guess. Leave the way you came, turn left, keep going past the janitor's closet, first door on your right. Can't miss it."
"Hmph!" Linni pouted. "So they're not just jerks, they're idiots too!" A string of Rylothian curse words mumbled rapidly from her lips as she headed for the door."
"Wait!" the supervisor called out. "Wasn't there two other girls tonight?"
"The newbies?" Linni said with a shrug. "I dunno. If they show, they show. If they don't, more tips for us."
"You mean for you," the older lady said with narrowed eyes. Linni was one of the better looking girls their escort service had on the roster.
"Pfft! Whatever," Linni brushed her off as she followed the simple path she was given and found the metal hatch-like door to the room was slightly ajar. Pulling it open, she found the room was sparsely lit with a weak emergency light above the door lined with two rows of lockers intended for the day-to-day workers of the factory. The air was thick with the mixed stench of a sweaty and oily odor that rivaled the horrid smell of nerf dung. Holding her nose shut, she looked down to see the suit bag that had a white label with her name on it set upon the bench beside the row of lockers.
"Ugh, stink nasty people," she scoffed, reeling from the omnipresent, putrid scent.
Taking hold of the bag, she heard a pair of steps approach beside her, and then an arm went around her neck and instantly a humming beam of green light hissed to life mere inches from her throat.
"You can say that again," Amare whispered from behind to Linni's conical left ear. A gloved hand came up and immediately muffled the expected scream. "Shhh! Be calm...be still...that's it. Good. I'm giving you the night off, sweetie." As Amare held her grip over the Twi'lek's mouth, Linni gradually found herself feeling more and more faint and exhausted by the second. A moment later, her knees started to buckle, and her arms started to become weak and flaccid. "Forgive me, but I have to be sure you don't go running off to get help. Mmm...you are flush with energy. Perhaps you have a gift of the Force, I wonder? Shame it is wasted in you."
Amare eased an unconscious Linni to the floor and affectionately kissed her on the forehead, a small token of gratitude for the renewed charge of Force energy she needed to carry on, and for the revealing glossy pink and leather black outfit that--upon inspection after unzipping the bag--was more or less about her trim size. Amare sighed and shook her head, her mind wavering back to the club she was enslaved to back on Nar Shaddaa. It had been quite a while since her showgirl days.
Zara...I'm freeing you for this. She thought deep within the recesses of her mind. I need your gentle hand and charm. Get us alone with the target, and I will take care of the rest. Do not fail us. We've come too far for things to end in this wretched place.
Amare closed her eyes and outstretched her arms as her feet began to levitate slightly off the floor. The azoth within her body stirred, and her mind flashed back to the moment on Korriban when the mysterious substance bonded with her and granted her mental supermacy over Zaracoda. She could feel it again, and allowed herself to lose herself within its warm embrace. A moment later, the faint crimson glow in her eyes were gone as they opened, and her feet touched the floor again. She took a deep breath to get her bearings, retching and coughing from the terrible smell in the room, and found herself again. She was the kindly and loving girl from Glee Anselm once again.
As Coda disrobed and exchanged her soft and comfortable sage green traveling outfit for the snug costume, the memories of the stage, the lights, and the thrumming beats of the dance music came flooding back into her mind again. She stuffed her gear and clothes into an empty locker, dragged Linni to a nearby shower alcove, and walked with sultry ease and swaying hips towards the dressing room.
"Who are you?" the supervisor asked with a startle upon Amare's entrance.
"Oh, um, it's...Veeroa," Coda stammered, quickly blurting out the first random female Nautolan name she could think of. "I'm one of the new hires."
"Nobody told me a Nautolan was brought on board, but you've got the look I suppose. Good hips, cute button nose. A bit lacking chest-wise. Hm, I've seen better, but we need more blue buns out there with the guests. Sit down, dearie. Those cheap little bands on your lekku aren't going to cut it. And where's your makeup? You really are new, aren't you?"
Coda nodded bashfully as she sat down in front of a mirror framed in makeup lights. "Y-yes. I'm sorry."
"I don't normally do this," the super said, "but some of the gentlemen here have been getting a little bored with the usual experienced girls. A young thing like you, with the sweet innocent look you have, just might be what we need tonight. Here, I think purple is your colour." She handed Coda amethyst-hued lipstick, a stark reminder of Thane. She wondered what he would've thought seeing her dressed as alluringly as she was. She felt several pairs of new metal bands being clasped around sections of her most prominent head tendrils, each bangle shining in a layer of fake gold. They were eye-catching and made her feel pretty; she had always been raised to be modest, but now she didn't care for the old fashioned ways of her adopted family. She wanted to be free and to enjoy the night as much as she could before Amare took over again. Some gelatinous sacs were added over her chest to better fill the satin lace bra cups, and a few minutes later, she rose up with relaxed confidence, ready to grab the attention of a certain captain of industry marked for death...
TBC
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