Taris, A Tale of Two Mercs « Thread Started on Oct 5, 2009, 10:32pm »
(Just pasted from its place in Blades' bio. Enjoy!)
Taris, A Tale of Two Mercs
Taris. What a slum! Back in its heyday, the Lower City had been a crime-corrupted corpse pile and even after a few thousand years it hadn't changed. In fact, all time had done was to make the Upper City look more like its trashier compatriots, the Lower and Undercities.
Nevertheless, class struggles created conflict and in the eyes of the two mercenaries fresh off the shuttle this was incredibly good for business.
"Got the gear, brother?" one in a tank top and brown pants asked the other, who wore acid-washed pants and a short sleeved shirt with a rock band's logo on it.
"Right here, pal. And according to this "tourist's map", the elevator to the Lows is a couple blocks up and over." the second one responded pointing to a bag in his hand, and using finger quotes. Seriously, who ever came to Taris as a tourist anymore?
The two of them waited for their baggage in the claim area, which was basically a pile of suitcases being thrown out of the belly of the shuttle. The first mercenary saw his black suitcase with a dagger engraving hit the ground roughly, but didn't flinch. Thank goodness I didn't pack my crystal stemware. he mentally quipped. Without a word he began walking with the case in his hand.
The second mercenary picked up his identical bag, marked instead with a bundle of sticks wrapped together and followed. The Upper City erupted with activity all around them while they walked together.
The recent political moves of the Tarisian elite had angered the working-class dwellers of the Lower City. It was really nothing new, it was only following tradition it seemed. But some of the people the mercs saw holding up signs along the walkway looked ready to kill.
Their eyes went wild as they shouted such slogans as "Our blood, our sweat, your profit!" and "Oligarchy equals anarchy!" The two men did their best to walk along while people shouted and waved their banners at the skyscrapers.
When they reached the elevator and pressed the button for the Lower City and finally received the relief of the soundproof doors closing on the protest, the first one looked at the second. They were alone. Without a word, they both opened the first bag of gear and put on some blast-proof vests and knee pads.
"Brief me." he said, opening his suitcase. Inside lay a menagerie of priceless weapons: two pistols, an assault rifle and a sniper rifle with a scantily clad Mirialan woman http://kaernen.deviantart.com/art/SW-Babes-Mirialan-94751763 painted on the stock.
"Right. Contact says that these protests have been reaching a boiling point within the last few days. Things are going beyond the normal class struggle and he's afraid that it might escalate into all out war." the second case opened revealing a machine pistol, assault rifle and a sniper rifle with a laser sight and multi-layer scope.
"What makes him say that?" the first one asked, putting on a large holster with slots covering the left of his breast and his right hip. He slipped both pistols into these slots.
The second buckled a utility belt with a carabiner for carrying his machine pistol. He slipped the weapon into place and continued talking "A day ago, he got a call from one of the unions. They said if their demands were not met by a deadline, then this strike would be the least of the Elite's problems."
"When's the deadline, Sticks?"
Sticks shook his head and shrugged "In about an hour, maybe less depending on how defiant the Elite plan to be."
"Fucking rich pukes. We oughta kick some of THEIR asses after this is over."
"Blades! Brother. Don't shoot the hand that pays you, rule number one."
Blades exhaled sharply and finished gearing up. They both worked like clockwork loading and cocking their sniper rifles and slinging them over their shoulders. Blades made sure the "attractive" side of his rifle's stock was showing when he slung his.
Next, the two of them loaded the gas cartriges into their rifles. Blades' was an E-3 with an elongated barrel and full-auto capability. Sticks carried a more classy model, the famous E-11 Mark 2 used by stormtroopers during the GCW. It had a scope, extended cartridge and a fold out stock for added stability. Slinging these two rifles across their fronts, they reached into the bag and pulled out the piece de resistance.
On the other side of the elevator down in the Lower City, the bell dinged. The metallic doors opened, revealing the two mercs fully decked out in their guns, armor and ammo and sporting two unique metallic facemasks which were shaped and flipped up like welding masks.
Sticks' was a Wookiee skull with its mouth open and baring its fangs, which were painted red like it had just torn someone's flesh off. Blades had a Zabrak face, complete with horns and faint tattoos, reading on the forehead in basic "Blast me! I dare you!"
To complete their unveiling for whatever cameras might have been watching the elevator, they looked at each other, exchanged high-fives and flipped their masks down.
For the next few hours, the two of them waited in an abandoned apartment space in the vicinity and finished the briefing. Their intended target if the riot ended up happening would be the union leader, a Mr. Tanis Griffen. He normally ran things from his office in the Lower City, a remodeled swoop bike garage made for his purposes. If the riot ended up happening, they were expected to run into serious armed resistance inside the compound but nothing they couldn't handle.
The two lay in wait, an unnerving quiet brought on by all the citizens being up top protesting. After an hour, Sticks' watch beeped in unison with Blades'... They looked at a live feed from up top using their watches but nothing was happening. The people were quiet and no longer waving their signs. Some of them even looked like they were dispersing. With no sound to the feed, however, the mercs had no idea why they were being so quiet.
But apparently something good had happened, as they all began cheering and jumping up and down. Sticks got out his commlink and called up his contact.
"Yo boss. Sticks. The crowd looks like it's gonna disperse, we free to go?" A brief silence... "Okay, you're the boss." With that, Sticks hung up the commlink and stuffed it in his pocket.
"What'd he say?" Blades asked as his partner got to his feet and he followed suit.
"He said we are to proceed to the union HQ and have a talk with Mr. Griffen. And to be on the lookout if the situation changes. From the sound of things, he was expecting something."
The two flipped their masks up and eyed each other with suspicion and uneasiness at this last statement. They then took off for the union base, leaving their suitcases stashed behind some debris in case a squatter or some wiseguy should come upon them and decide to pawn them for cash.
Their trek took them through an area of the Lower City which didn't have a ceiling. It was at the base of all the modern skyscrapers and buildings which composed the Upper City. And it still retained all of the urban charm which made the Lower City what it was. Junk piles, pieces of stuff blowing around, abandoned speeders lying on the side of the road. This place was definitely worse for wear, no wonder they had been protesting.
As they were walking, a large vibration suddenly shook them all the way to their insides and made them instinctively reach for their assault rifles! It was soon followed by an explosive sound and a distant flash. All of a sudden, the silence of the Lower City was pierced by the shrieks of people in the Upper City which could be heard from all the way down below.
"Think this is what he was expecting, bro?" Blades asked scanning the vicinity with his rifle raised.
"No shit this is what it is, we gotta get to the office pronto!"
They flipped their masks down and flew the rest of the blocks to the union office. Once they got there, Blades rang the buzzer while Sticks watched his back.
"Yes?" a voice from inside asked "Who's there?"
"Postal service." Blades responded with attitude "We were told a package with one hell of a payload was delivered from here and we wanna talk with Mr. Griffen about it!"
"If you try and enter with force, we will open fire." the voice shot back "The workers of the city will not be intimida-" BOOM!
Blades shot an over-charged single at the door lock and busted it open, destroying the speaker in the process. He kicked in the door and caught the man at the intercom by surprise, jamming the butt of his rifle into his face and knocking him out.
"Subtle." Sticks commented rushing in "But effective."
The office was one huge room surrounded by individual rooms and chocked full of cubicles. These guys may have not been Elites but they sure had their stuff together. At the moment it all appeared to be empty and deserted, just like everything else in this part of town.
At the center of the room was a single elevator, marked 'Tanis Griffen, Chairman'. They rushed toward it and almost immediately regretted their decision. Once they were in the center of the room, the union members which had stayed behind emerged from the cubicles on all sides of the two mercenaries. The two of them quickly spun around and tried to make for the exit, but found it had been blocked off by a heavy duty security door.
"This union's no pushover!" one of the armed workers called out "You and the rest of those fascists are going to regret sending you to do their dirty work!"
Blades breathed in and out slowly and whispered something over his shoulder to his blood brother.
The mercenaries held their rifles cautiously and watched as the workers all drew their weapons and took aim. Instinctively, they pressed against each other's backs and started spinning round, taking aim at their ambushers.
Shooing rapid-fire, the two back-to-back soldiers continued to spin round and round like a clock, backs pressed together. They were taking plenty of shots which stung like hell, but not in the places it counted. And in the places they were hit, just like the union professed to be, they weren't pushovers either.
In seconds, the room was filled with holes and the workers had fallen to the ground dead. The inexperienced militiamen never stood a chance with their level of skill and lack of firepower.
Without even giving it a second thought and wanting to avoid a second wave, the two ran for the elevator and pressed the button to take them one floor down into the chairman's office.
The two of them were rushing with adrenaline and starting breathing heavy after the doors shut.
"Sticks! What the hell was that?!"
"We went back to back and knocked off some union workers, nothing major."
"Not that, you idiot. You know what I mean. That enormous explosion that almost hit me at the right frequency to make my piss myself!"
"I don't know, but if I had to guess it is only the beginning of something much bigger."
Blades gasped with widened eyes "Oh! Sweet mother of pearl, you... ARE RIGHT!" he remarked with supreme sarcasm "If you really insist on stating the obvious, at least try and make it sound like it took some effort to scrounge up."
"Ah shut your pie hole, the elevator's stopping." Sticks muttered, picking his rifle back up.
They filed out of the elevator quickly and found themselves in the waiting area of the chairman's office. In front of them was a door with frosted glass and his name on it. As soon as they approached it a blaster bolt shot through it, shattering the glass. They split up and stacked up on both sides of the door for cover.
The blaster fire continued, completely smashing the rest of the glass from the door frame. Inside the office, a man shouted wildly like a wild animal with its tail caught in a harvester.
"Griffen? Is that-?" Blades asked leaning toward the hole in the door and jerking his head back when another bolt came through.
"Yep, it's me all right. And you won't take me alive. This union is-"
"No pushover! Yeah, we got that! But incredibly, we're only here to talk to you."
"Yeah!" Sticks called in "Your boys out there fired first." While he said this, he snuck a quick and daring peek inside the hole at the interior of the office. He noticed the waiting area went around the corner of Griffen's office just enough... He hand-signalled to Blades, who was on that side, to go around and place a directional charge on the wall.
"So why don't you just put your gun down and we'll talk this out man to man?" Sticks continued "You and I can just be alone and I'll tell my partner to keep his brainless mouth shut and stop being a waste of space." Blades opened up one of his pockets and procured some plastique and blasting caps, before swiftly sticking his middle finger around the corner at Sticks who chuckled.
"No deal! You murderers have ONE chance!" Griffen yelled back, loading a couple more blasters and setting them on his desk "Get out and never come back! I have plenty of blasters and firepower in this office. You try and come in and you'll regret it. I may be one man, but I ain't to be underestimated."
Sticks and Blades agreed simultaneously in their minds. He may have been one man, but any cornered animal would fight to the death if it had to. Even a decrepit old working-class fossil like Griffen. And with one entrance to his office, he had a pretty big advantage. That would change in a couple seconds.
"Well look, don't you think that's a little harsh? Calling us murderers?" Sticks asked casually, switching to his machine pistol "I mean it was YOU guys who set that bomb up to blow, after all. Right?" Blades finished wiring the charge and quietly crept back around the corner signalling with a thumbs-up.
"Wow. They don't make mercs like they used to, do they? You imbeciles really think that we were the ones who planted that?"
Blades looked through the window with a dental mirror.
"You guys are nothing but patsies in the Elites little game of power. You actually think they just sent you here to TALK to me?"
The chairman was still crouched behind his desk. It was heavy and metallic and with the amount of distance between it and the placement of the charge, it wouldn't be very affected. He was JUST behind it, they needed him to shift just a little bit for the charge to be effective.
"And even if you do end up getting out alive, which you won't if you kill me, who's to say they won't just cast you aside like they do all of us?!"
Griffen shifted his weight so that he was just the perfect distance from the blast zone and with the right amount of coverage. Just a little more. Sticks tensed his thumb over the button........ Bingo!
BEEP! BOOOOOM! The charge exploded inward into the office. Chunks of incinerated plaster flew into the air and knocked Griffen into his bookshelf with hurricane force. He dropped his blaster to protect his face from the shelf when it collapsed all of its contents onto him.
In seconds the two mercenaries flew in through the two entrances, the old office door and the freshly-created one.
"FREEZE!" Blades yelled coming through the hole and pointing his pistols sideways at Griffen, his arms crossed one on top of the other for no other reason than to look cool.
"Drop it old man! We got you cold!" Sticks demanded jumping up onto the desk and kicking all the blasters out of reach of Griffen except the one in his hand, which he shakily pointed between the two mercenaries. He had gotten up from his fall into the bookcase and now sat with his back against it.
Blades didn't know if it was their masks being down or if this man just had serious Arthritis, but he was as stiff and shaky as a diving board. They stepped closer and tensed their fingers on their triggers which finally made him cave and drop his hand to his side. Sticks jumped down and pinned his hand to the ground with his foot while he took the pistol away.
"Okay old man." Blades said "Now you're going to tell us what you meant by me and my brother being patsies."
"Yeah. Starting with that part about you guys not being the cause of the explosion."
Griffen shook his head and made a sound which could have been a laugh or a cry. He stared up at the two of them and shook his head, eyes closed. "You boys really have no clue." he said "That bomb was sabotage meant for you to have reason to kill me."
"You expect us to believe that?" Sticks said "After you threatened to give my contact trouble if he didn't meet your demands, which he apparently did?"
"I meant I was going to convince more people to go on strike. We always have groups of people continue working, so as not to give away all of our ranks all at once. And I doubt if those promises they gave my people weren't filled with lies and half-truths."
"And what about them casting us aside?"
"They do it to everyone eventually. Me. You. Their own executives." Griffen told them "Where do you think I got all my advisors and office workers? Even if you end up getting back to him you're nothing more than a couple of toys dressed up in flashy costumes with pornographic images on your rifles."
Blades took personal offense to Rose being offended like that and shoved his hands forcefully at the old man. "You snotty little pile of dust." he growled "I oughta put you through right now. Save me the trouble of arresting you."
"Shoot me! You'll make me a martyr and our cause will be larger than ever."
Blades glared and tensed his fingers but Sticks held up his hands, calming him down. But it only relieved him a little bit. An old man had just insulted the only woman in Blades' life and defied him to shoot him. That's MY job! He totally copied that off my mask.
"Look, brother." Sticks leaned in and whispered "We've got him, now let's take him back to the station house and move on." Blades frowned angrily at Griffen, but nodded in agreement.
"No." Griffen said defiantly "Shoot me!"
"Old man, you're crazy. And under arrest." Blades said holstering his left pistol and reaching for his handcuffs.
"Shoot me!" he said again, this time more insistant. He even kicked Blades in the shin to get his point across.
"OW! Bastard!" Blades cried clutching his shin "You have the right to remain unconscious. Anything you say or do ain't gonna be much!"
"SHOOT ME!!!" Griffen suddenly went mad and reached behind his back, as if for a blaster. The two mercs reacted according to instinct and opened fire!
Griffen just froze and allowed his guts to be pumped full of photons. He slumped over against the shelf and rolled over against its side, falling on his face on the floor. It was only after he died and began to bleed all over the carpet that they discovered he had no weapons left.
The two mercenaries just stood and stared at what had just happened. Blades breathed in and out from the adrenaline and shook his head. "He always wanted to be a martyr. He got his wish, yeah?"
Sticks hooked his machine pistol up and switched back to his assault rifle "We'd better get out of here."
"My sentiments exactly. Saya-fuckin'-nara."
They got back in the elevator and rode it up. They didn't encounter any resistance in the lobby. The heavy metal door actually seemed to have been opened for them. They looked at each other, masks flipped up. Then back at the door.
"Just a few blocks until the Upper City elevator." Sticks said, breaking the silence "We can make it."
Blades nodded "Let's do it." he said and held out his hand "Hit me."
The two of them did their secret handshake which they invented in Special Forces and have been perfecting ever since then. Front, back, up, down, finger-lock, turn 'round. Fist bump, thumb tap, and top it off with a gangsta whap! The last movement was the insistance of Blades who always fancied himself a gangsta. That and they could never find anything to rhyme with 'tap'.
They aimed their rifles at the door and shot it to bits with two overcharged singles. They burst out the door and ignored the fact that they had encountered no resistance. They just made a mad dash for the elevator.
They reached it and pressed the button. Then, Blades remembered that the suitcases were still in the apartment and he rushed to get them. No way was he letting go of his luggage, it was one of a kind. Luckily nothing happened then, either.
Re: Taris, A Tale of Two Mercs « Reply #1 on Oct 14, 2009, 3:09am »
Nar Shaddaa, An Encounter with some Ladies
It had been several weeks since the dynamic mercenary duo of Blades and Sticks had managed to stop a full-blown uprising from occuring on Taris. After finding out they had been slightly manipulated to do so, however, as well as fending off an angry mob threatening to lynch them, the two decided they'd had enough of Taris for one lifetime.
They now sat in two barstools at a bar on the smuggler's moon, Nar Shaddaa, and sipping glasses of Juma Juice. Out of nowhere, a smile popped up on Blades' face and he breathed a small laugh to himself.
"What's so funny, brother?" Sticks asked, refilling his glass.
"Oh nothing, just reflecting on what happened after that rich puke finished explaining why he manipulated us."
"You mean when you asked if our payment had gone through yet? And he said yes." Sticks up-ended the shot into his mouth and felt the pleasant burn of alcohol running down his throat "And once he said that, you took a step forward and punched him in the nose."
Blades went from a small chuckle to a full-blown belly laugh, picturing it in his head. He pounded his fist on the bar with his eyes closed. "Yup! That's the stuff!" he laughed, pulling a cigarra out of the soft packet stuffed in his shirt pocket.
While Blades lit it up Sticks sighed "Blades, you know we'll probably get in trouble for that." he said with a mixture of irritation and concern "You ever stop and think of that?"
"Ah what'll they do? They employ people like us to fix their problems. The worst they'd probably do is request to our PMC not sending us next time they need their silk-covered asses pulled outta the fire." Blades inhaled and blew smoke through his lips "Which is FINE by me. Screw Taris!"
When he said the last part, he reached over and grabbed the bottle, filling both their shot glasses to the brim. He put his cigarra in the ashtray and held up the glass, eyeing his blood-brother.
Sticks looked down at the bar and tapped his fingers rapidly as he thought of the consequences. Blades was always doing things like this. Punching an executive here, running his mouth there. Using way too excessive an amount of force, hell yes. Who could forget when he used a plex missile launcher several times in a row to level the entire west wing of a tenement because he wasn't sure which room was being used by guerillas?
But just as Sticks looked up from the bar and saw his best friend and partner-in-crime (sometimes literally) still sitting there with his glass raised and that famous smile on his face... It made him think of all the good stuff he had done too.
Like that time they had been rushing through that decrepit space station fighting the infected former tenents. They were in retreat because they had run into a huge wave of them. Blades was almost to the safe zone, but Sticks had been slashed from his ankle to his knee by one of the freaks and was limping and bleeding profusely. Instead of saving himself, Blades stayed behind and emptied his magazine into the monsters before closing the steel door and saving both of them.
It was acts like this which reminded Sticks of the Blades he grew up with, went to basic training with, came to when his love life was going bad... Sticks chuckled Who hired a whole team of dancers to tend to my every beck and call when she broke up with me. He eagerly returned the smile and raised his glass.
"Yeah. Screw Taris!" he responded at last, clinking their glasses and sucking it down at the exact moment Blades did his. This was a night for celebration, not for worry. Bring on the Juice! -- They stayed in the same bar doing the same thing for the next few hours into the evening. After a while, it was getting pretty late and the two of them needed to get back. They headed home to their hotel, doped to the gills full of Juma Juice but for a couple sturdy guys like them it really only made them a little tipsy.
They went to their rooms and said good night in their own special way, a quick gangsta whap followed by both of them saying "Hooah!". They closed their doors and promptly collapsed on their beds. Blades switched off the light and drifted off into dreamland.
Down the hall of the hotel the sound of high heeled shoes echoed across the tiles and broke the silence in a most mysterious and ghostlike fashion. A woman in a blue dress made her way through the hallway, checking the numbers on the doors and a piece of paper in her hand as she walked.
She stopped walking and looked first at the number on the paper then to her left at the door. They matched up... "Room 217... Blades."
Knock, knock!
Blades groaned and moved his face around on the blanket. His mouth was hanging open, brushing his lips sloppily all over the bed spread. His eyes remained half-open as he fought to regain his consciousnes. Another knock came at the door.
Knock. knock!
"Nnngh... Who is it?" he managed to groan.
"It's Rose."
He crawled onto his side and sat up "Rose who?"
"You know me. Your muse, your sin, your scarlet letter. The only woman in your life. Rose. Let me in and we can have some..." the voice started to breath deeply and intensly. She articulated her next words like there was longing burning deep inside her "mad, passionate..." The woman began to moan softly into the peep hole.
Blades lay there silently and listened, his eyes widening to twice their normal size. He had to be dreaming. He was lying in a hotel bedroom, practically passed after a session of serious late-night drinking and the woman painted on his rifle butt was knocking on his hotel door soliciting him for a night of fantasy fulfillment.
"Be patient. Please don't get any less horny." he mumbled in a tone meant to be one of eagerness mixed with sarcasm, but just sounded like more groaning. He rolled out of bed and drug himself toward the door "This may take a while." Slowly but surely, he managed to stand himself up and go to his door. He tripped over his own right ankle and fell forward, catching the door handle in his hand and dragging it downward, hitting his face on the door in the process. It opened enough for the woman to push it open herself.
She walked in and looked down at the intoxicated mercenary below her. "Oh, baby. You look tired." Rose said, keeping her sultry tone "Why don't I put you to bed?"
Blades couldn't believe how fast the Juma Juice had taken effect. One minute he was sober, the next he was having hallucinations about a zeltron with a blue dress, hair and shoes picking him up off the floor and carrying him back to bed. Only... Those hands felt pretty real. And, he really was moving. What was going on?
"You're not Rose..." he said, noticing extremely late that this woman was a zeltron as opposed to a mirialan, which was what he really had painted on his rifle.
The woman laid him on his back and began to undo his shirt, kissing his chest as the firm, toned muscle underneath became revealed. When she finally got all the way down to the last button, she ran her tongue all the way back up his smooth chest and lightly graced his chin.
"Don't worry about any of that." she said with a laugh, slowly reaching to start on his pants "Just lay back. You're as safe and secure as can be while I'm here." she leaned over to kiss him once on the chest "Just relax. Let it all go."
Oh well. Blades thought I'll correct the inaccuracies when I wake- his thought was interrupted by his pants coming undone, which again felt VERY real IF I wake up.
The woman removed his pants and continued planting kisses on his abs and between the crook of his neck. One of her hands reached around to caress his neck and run through his hair while the other lightly grazed his skin in various places.
While all this was happening, rather strangely, Blades slowly felt himself regaining control of his body. All the cloudiness which made his mind foggy had been lifted and the face of the gorgeous woman came into focus. Without taking so much as a moment to question this, he helped the woman atop him slip out of her shoes and slid the dress over her head. He drew her forward with his hand on the back of her head, stroking her beautiful blue hair.
Their lips met and engulfed one another in a passionate kiss which they let themselves get lost in. Blades kicked the covers and top sheets back and turned the lights off without opening his eyes.
Their forms embraced in the darkness and Blades was soon brought into a world of ecstasy. It didn't matter that in her state the zeltron woman was emitting tons of pheromones. Regardless of whether she had them or not, she was magnificent!
When the two of them finally concluded, he pulled the covers over them and the two drifted off to sleep. -- Several hours later, Blades awoke in his hotel room. He had slept through the rest of the evening, but the usually pleasant feeling of a full night's sleep was replaced by an ill-tasting cottonmouth and a headache that only a hangover could provide.
He was laying on his back and the shades were drawn, making the room too dark to see. Looking over at the end table where the lamp was, he moved to turn it on. He leaned over to get closer to it and felt something slide across his chest. A confused look on his face, he flipped on the lamp and lifted up the covers.
His eyes widened and he reached behind him to press the button to call Sticks' room.
Over in his room Sticks was awoken by the ringing of the comm line. He stirred for about ten seconds before he awoke enough to scoot himself toward the button. He answered on the third ring.
"Yes? Sticks here. Whoever you are, I'm sorry for my friend and I'll pay for whatever he broke." he joked sleepily.
"Funny, jackass. It's me."
"Ah, Blades. Up and at 'em already?"
"Actually, yes... And uh... You'll never guess who else is up as well."
The zeltron had woken up when Blades sat up against the headboard. Clothed in nothing but the top sheet and one damn sexy smile, she had by this time wrapped her arms around his waist and had proceeded to plant more wet kisses across the krayt dragon tattoo on his right bicep.
"The oddest thing seems to have happened to me, Sticky-boy." he said into the speaker on the night stand "I went to bed, fell asleep, then had an extremely realistic dream that a zeltron came to my room and solicited me. After what is admittedly the best night of sleep I've had for a very long time," he looked her in the eyes and raised his eyebrows once with a smile "I wake up to find that sleep had absolutely nothing to do with it."
In his room Sticks wasn't listening to the call, as he was too busy rolling in his bed laughing. After their little toast to screwing Taris and the memory it brought up of Blades comforting Sticks when his longtime girlfriend Lenna left him, Sticks decided he would finally make it up to his best friend. When he excused himself to the refresher, he actually went to the terminal outside of it and placed an "order" especially for Blades.
While he explained this to his friend, Blades was having trouble listening because she kept stroking him and nibbling on his neck and kissing him in various places. One nibble even caused him to spontaneously squeal mid-sentence which was embarressing, but in a good way.
"Look brother, I'm gonna let you go." Sticks finally said at the end of the explanation "You go ahead and enjoy Rose. See if you don't consider painting her on your rifle instead."
Blades had given in by now and he and Rose were in the throes of another make-out session. "Sure." Blades said reaching behind him "And thanks." He pressed the button and severed the line.
After a few seconds more of kissing, the two stopped to catch their breath. Blades looked down at her inquisitively.
"What's on your mind, hon'?" she asked, her first words of the day.
"How did you do it? Make me feel like I was dreaming?"
Rose smiled and laughed a little. "New drug on the market meant for zeltrons." she said, getting comfortable against the headboard "We swallow a pill and it goes right through us. Doesn't affect us in any way, except it basically piggybacks onto our pheromone clouds and makes them into psychadelic hallucinagens." She leaned forward and put her chin on her knees.
Blades looked pretty impressed at someone else's ingenuity for once. And a hutt, no less, which he despised more than any crime syndicate because they were his PMC's chief competition on most worlds.
"And why haven't I heard of it. A regular player like me should have heard of something this hot."
"The Hutts introduced it about a month back and they're trying it out. Since then, the pills have been selling like crazy and alllll the girls are doing 'em. I actually have to carry a bottle of them on me because of the demand."
"Interesting. Very..." he pretended to try and sneak a peak under the sheet which covered her "Interesting, indeed. So what happens next? How much longer I have you for?" Playfully, Rose hogged the sheets and feigned a modest look. The two of them laughed at each other as Blades slipped out of bed and stretched. When he turned back around, she answered.
"I have enough time to get a shower. Normally I charge for the extra time and all, but for you it's free."
"That's gotta be up there with the most romantic things a woman's ever done for me. I think I may be falling for you Rose. Errrm... speaking of which."
The zeltron girl chewed her fingernail and laughed at his confusion. She knew what he was about to ask.
"See, I'm on Nar Shaddaa a lot these days." Blades went on "And I'm willing to bet not every zeltron is as hot as you are. So what do you say you give me your name? And it sure ain't Rose, cause Sticks already said he paid you to do that."
"Rose" cocked her neck playfully and slipped one of her legs out from under the sheets. "No can do." she said wagging her finger "He's still paying me. So until I get out of that shower, I am still Rose. No two ways about it." Blades just nodded consideringly and shrugged.
"Okay. So what do you say I go put some towels on the rack for us," he said nonchalantly "Rose."
She just bit her tongue and giggled seductively, wiggling her toes at him as he walked into the bathroom to find the towels. While he tried to find them, she just exhaled and let herself fall back onto the bed while she waited.
Blades procured two large towels from a drawer in the refresher. Hanging them up, he called out "Found 'em. Let's get this name-learning session on the road."
"Oh?" she called back "That what they call it on your planet?"
"No, actually they call it rubbing ca-" Knock, knock! "Who is it?"
"Extra special package for a Mister Blades." a second, very sultry female voice said from outside in the hall "It looks like it might explode if you don't give it your... Touch."
Blades poked his head out the bathroom and looked at Rose, who wasn't nearly as surprised as he was. In her world, this probably happened every day when a friend of the customer was in charge of the order. Or sometimes even when the customer was in charge of his own order.
Blades threw his towel around his waist and opened the door for the second girl. Human, light brown hair, hazel eyes, coppery skin and with a bit of muscle to her. She was certainly pretty, but not quite on par with Rose. Of course she didn't have pheromones, but Blades was sure that after last night that Rose didn't need pheromones to be the best.
"Come in, make yourself comfortable." Blades told her, going over to the comm and pressing the button to send a recorded message to Sticks "Hey, bro. Thanks for sending another girl to keep me occupied after the first left, but maybe you oughta consider the menu more carefully next time, yeah?"
After he pressed the send button, the second girl strutted over to him and put her hand on his face. "Men..." she mused "Always soooo picky." She reached behind her back with her free hand while continuing to stroke his cheek.
Just as this transpired, Sticks recieved the message. Second girl? he thought to himself I never ordered a second girl. -- The second woman continued to stroke his cheek while she leaned in to whisper in his ear.
"You're a very naughty boy." she whispered into his ear, kissing it and tugging at the lobe with her teeth "And you need to be punished... Really, really badly."
"Lady, if you are into that kind of stuff, I am so down with that." Blades remarked with a smile, shaking his head "But really only when it's me doing the punishing. Me and my lady friend here have a little appointment just now. So maybe you should think of a safe word or something while you wait." Blades stepped to the side and started towards the bathroom door with his back turned to her.
Just as he reached the door and put his hand on it, he heard Rose let out a high-pitched scream behind him. He quickly turned and noticed just in time that something was being swung at him and he ducked to avoid it.
The second woman had apparently unsheathed a large knife from behind her back. Blades could just barely feel the air rush over him where his neck had been mere seconds ago.
He paid no attention to the fact that his towel had fallen to the floor and lunged at the smaller woman, grabbing her knife hand and doing his best to twist the blade from her grasp. Incredibly, though, the smaller woman seemed unaffected by this and pushed Blades so hard that he hit his head on the hotel door.
"Please tell me this is all part of your routine." Blades growled through clenched teeth, trying hard to maintain control of the knife. It was of no use, he was fighting a losing battle against the deceptively small woman as the knife came closer and closer to his chest. Looking down at it, Blades quickly realized the nature of the weapon: Not only was it serrated and wide but it was also smeared with some type of gel. It was clearly meant for assassination.
Just as it was about to get close enough to pierce his skin and the last amount of his strength was being used, Blades got a surprise. Rose jumped on top of the assassin's back and was trying to get the knife away from her as well. She couldn't hold on, however, and the woman hit Rose with the back of her head and tossed her off like she was nothing.
Fortunately, Blades was able to use this to his advantage and after using the woman's momentum to throw her into the door, flung himself across the room, over the bed and onto the other side where his pistols were.
He came up and noticed the woman was pointing the handle of her knife at him. It had a hole in the bottom which looked like a blaster barrel and a button on top which her thumb was in the process of pressing "Get down!!!" Blades yelled and ducked a second before emerging with his own two pistols.
He pulled the triggers at the same time and fired, knocking the female assassin back with tremendous force and tensing her finger on the button which forced her knife to fire a single shot. Luckily it missed the totally naked Blades by a mile.
He fired with a normal dual wield stance at first, but after knocking her back into the door switched to his "gangsta stance" and fired two more shots into her to seal the deal.
Sticks busted in after the shots finished firing, looking completely wired. He was holding his machine pistol at the ready and in his armor and kneepads. "It's okay, bro." Blades boasted, feeling that Sticks must have been envious of what he was looking at "I got her. Next time you buy me a gift, tell me how much of it you're buying." Then he crossed his arms and just let his brother look at him like he was an ancient Alderaan statue.
Sticks just ignored his blood-brother's obvious attempt at flexing his manhood and bent down on the ground. Blades didn't know why, because from where he was standing he couldn't see what Sticks was looking at.
Suddenly, Sticks looked up enraged "Blades, you fucking imbecile, get down here NOW!" he yelled, quickly jerking his head back down. Rose was lying on the ground and she wasn't moving. Sticks checked her pulse on her neck and wrist and felt for a heart-beat but found none. "She's... Dead. Oh, you fucking moron!" he yelled at Blades "Is it possible for you NOT to kill someone? Anywhere we fucking go?!"
Blades was taken aback all of a sudden. Had he really just shot Rose by accident? No. he thought I couldn't have. Every one of those shots hit that other bitch. He rushed around and checked Rose. She still looked flawless in every way, with the exception of the blast point which had penetrated her just between the bellybutton and the center of the ribcage.
"She's dead? Ah that's too bad, I was just about to learn her name." Blades practically joked, putting his pistols away in their holsters.
Sticks just wanted to snap his friend in half at that last comment "You asshole, do you not have a soul?! She is dead because of you!"
"Nope." Blades responded completely nonchalant, pointing to the assassin's knife "She's dead because of this. Poison dagger with a surprise. Which means we need to hop a shuttle back to the PMC and get out of here before it starts to look like I enjoy my sex a little too rough."
Even though Sticks couldn't stand Blades' words, he knew them to be true. That assassin was sent for a reason and if they stayed around long enough another was bound to take her place. They both packed their things, Blades took his shower alone and got on a fresh set of clothes and walked right out the door as if nothing happened. The two mercenaries met in the lobby, whereafter they made themselves scarce.
The bodies of the assassin and the zeltron woman known as Rose stayed in their positions in that room for several days before they were found.
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