#herasek

Hera dropped her head against her shoulder, eyes following him. “You can do better than that seeing as we’re such good friends, right?”

The Zabrak bared his sharp teeth in a bit of a feigned smile and pulled a nearby chair over, taking a seat. "One step at a time, hon. Answer my question or I'll just drop let you out an airlock — maybe an escape pod if I'm in a good mood."

“Oh, sweetheart, down to business so soon after our little entanglement?” Hera smiled, looking at the top of her little cell.

"Mm-hmm. I've got work to do and I'm not known to have a lot of patience."

The Rattataki lifted her head back up again, grinning sharply. “Now that’s a bare-faced lie and we both know it.”

Eggs sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples briefly. "Look, hon, you've got until I dock my ship at the Sleeping Nexu Port at the edge of Hutt Space to decide, otherwise I'll throw ya in with the other slaves and you'll be back in the pits."

Hera shrugged slowly and then stretched, grimacing as she did so. “I always do good on Shaddaa. There. Decided. Now, are you gonna let me out so we can have some more fun? I promise I won’t stab you, you know I don’t have anything on me with that little strip search you did back at my temporary lodgings.”

"Mm, I'm not in the mood; besides, I know better than to let you loose on my ship."

“I’m flattered you think so much of me.”

"Not really. More of an aphrodisiac, I suppose."

Hera grinned slowly. “Scared I’ll distract you from flying?”

Eggs laughed. "Oh, no, no, I have an astromech assigned to piloting for now. Truth be told I'm worried I'll get addicted, and Maker knows you need me to be level-headed for you to survive."

The Rattataki leaned forward slowly, much closer to the shield, and to him. “I could survive better with a little more consistency, sweetpea. I’m on my own so, so much, don’t you want to help me settle?”

The Zabrak shook his head in amusement. "D'ya really think y'can play me like a fool? Honey, you'd stab me in the back the first chance you got, and then spend what few credits I got like that," he says and snapped his fingers. “You’re chaos incarnate; you can’t settle.”

Hera kept laying it on as thick as you like. “How do you know I can’t settle? You never gave me a chance.”

"And I never will, hon."

She traced a figure of an eight against the shield with one finger. “That’s why I like you. You aren’t a complete sap.”

"No, I know better than that," Eggs smirked. He then looked at the level above and shouted, "Entoo! Adjust our course to Nar Shaddaa!" He smiled back at Hera and leaned back against his chair. "Since we are just good friends, as ya put it, I'll give ya a couple hundred credits to give ya a runnin' start. How's that sound?"

“And…?”

"I have some extra clothes. It might fit ya."

Hera stared blankly. “Going to leave me on Nar Shaddaa defenseless, hmm? With all those thugs and killers…”

"Don't play innocent with me, hon," Eggs said with a raised brow.

“Weaponless. Alone. Only a few credits to my name…”

Eggs shrugs. "A few credits? I'll leave ya there with just a hundred."

Hera narrowed her eyes. “You said two fifty…”

"Oh, no, no, I said two hundred. With all your complainin', though, I think you'll appreciate just one hundred a lot more." The Zabrak paused for a moment. "Don't I recall ya havin' a few enemies on that moon?"

The Rattataki grinned once again. “Enemies? Me?”

"If I give ya one hundred, I won't tell anyone you're there. Two hundred? I might slip some information by..."

“Y’know, the two hundred credit package might be more fun…”

Eggs points at Hera. "This, right here, is why I'll never settle down with ya. I like a thrill now and again, but you're bad for my health. One hundred creds, some clothes, and some rations. That's all you're gettin'."

Hera shrugged, it didn’t seem like she cared. Probably because she didn’t. “Sure, whatever you want, babe.”

Eggs stood from his chair and stretched. "For the time bein', however, are ya hungry?"

“Goin’ to cook me dinner, babe?” Can’t say I liked the meals my last place gave me.”

"I may as well give ya some scraps if you're stuck here a couple days while we travel."

“Mm-hmm, what’re you serving? Steak?”

Eggs shrugged. "Somethin' like that. It's not five-star dinin', but it's edible."

“Sure you don’t want some company at the dinner table?”

"I don't got a dinner table, hon."

Hera waved a hand. “Dinner crate, dinner lap…”

Eggs chuckled. "No, no, you're not leavin' that cell. And if you need to use the refresher, I'll give ya a bucket."

The Rattataki downright pouted. “You’re so mean to me. I didn’t even steal your ship.”

Eggs grinned. "Nope, and I'd like to keep it that way!"

“Must be hard.”

"I'm not," Eggs winked, and then stepped away from the cell so he could start on some dinner for them both.

"I don't know," the owner of the establishment hummed, stroking his own chin. "She still draws a fair crowd. More in hopes she'll finally fall but the credits don't worry about the reasons. You'd have to have something pretty good on offer."

The Zabrak nodded, and took out his holocom, and set it on the table between himself and the owner. It activated and projected a holo-portrait of a Shistavanen male. “He’s relatively intact,” Eggs continues, “missin’ an eye but his senses are sharp otherwise. Slightly above average in size and it took three of my men to take him down, and that was after I shot him with a tranquiliser.”

He sat back satisfied with his pitch and finally took his glass, knocking most of the contents back in one go. As he set the glass down he noticed it wasn’t entirely clean, but what did he expect? Either way, it was no worse than what he usually had.

"Hmm, very, very interesting proposition." The owner said, nodding to himself, "Of course, I'd need to have someone check out the goods for my own piece of mind. Sad state of affairs where we can't offer the same level of professional trust as we used to, but these are the times in which we live. A shame, crying shame." The owner sure did like to hear himself talk, but he allowed himself a breath or two and a sip of his drink before continuing.

"I have just one question rattling around in the back of my head, my friend." He tapped at the side of his own head then pointed at the Zabrak. Once again he paused, this time completely for effect. "Just to sate my boundless curiosity, why take on, in your own words, a 'worn out old Rattataki' in trade for fresh meat?" He leaned forward, resting his chin against the back of his hand. Something didn't seem to add up to him.

Eggs, the Zabrak, looks down at his glass for a moment and allows a grin to creep onto his face and a few sharp teeth gleam in the low light. “A favour for an old friend and,” he pauses for effect, “the Shistavanen isn’t really my type.”

"Aha," A seemingly knowing smile also spread across the owner's face. "Say no more." He snapped his fingers and whistled to someone nearby. "My associate will check your cargo, if you don't mind."

“Oh no, by all means, my friend. He’s the only one I currently have onboard, so he shouldn’t be hard to miss.”

The owner waved the employee off. "I suppose you'll want to see that the other one's still in decent shape, hm?"

“That would be great. I’ve been through and watched her fight a few times. No missing limbs yet, I take it? Other than the hand she lost prior to comin’ in, eh?”

"Surprisingly. Or perhaps not. Feral little thing. I've had more fighters with chunks taken out of them since she arrived than over the previous, hm, five years?" The owner stood and gestured for Eggs to walk in ahead of him. "I hope whoever your client is knows what they're doing."

“I’ll pass your concern along to ‘em.” Eggs smiled and pushed himself up from the table, walking ahead. “And if the Shistavanen proves to be less than desired in the fightin’ ring, do let me know. I’ll find you a new fighter, or I could find this ‘Taki again. Either way.”

"Now, then!" The owner said, with a surprisingly booming laugh as they kept a leisurely pace towards the building and inside. "I wonder what else you can say that I want to hear, ah? Going to pay my rent? Alimony fees perhaps? Hah!" The owner asked, slapping Egg's back, and none too lightly.

“Heh, not that much, but I wouldn’t mind doin’ business with ya again in the future.” Eggs smiled in a friendly manner. “I can find other supplies as well, not just the sentient sort.”

"Ah yes, I'm very sure you are very useful!" The owner said, as he led the Zabrak down into the depths that the general public never saw but must have known were there. Walking down the long corridor where the other fighters were housed, eventually stopping and knocking at the wall next to one of the doors.

"Half of me will not be sad to see this one go." The owner said, and flicked open a small panel in the door,  stepping back he gestured to Eggs to take a peek. "The other half of me likes what happened to my accounts."

“I’m sure the new fighter will bring in just as many profits, my friend.” Eggs smiled at the owner and then stepped up to the door to have a peek through the panel. “Not bad. How long’s she been here, again?”

The owner sucked some air through his teeth. "Has to be, hm, three months if it's been a day."

Eggs whistled. “Damn, really? Time flies!” He took a half-step back from the door and then banged on it once as hard as he could. “Honey, I’m home!”

A loud, long, and most importantly, angry growl emanated from behind the door. The owner took one step back, flicking his gaze between the door and Eggs. The sudden change in the Zabrak's behaviour didn't put him on edge but did make him just every so slightly wary. Unpredictable people we always just that, unpredictable. The door rattled as its occupant rammed her whole body-weight into it.

"See what I mean?" The owner said, in a half mumble.

“Not everyone can wake up in a cheery mood, my friend,” the Zabrak said with a friendly smile at the owner. He then turned back to the door but didn’t step up to it just yet, and said, “Now, now, is that any way to treat your ol’ friend Eggs? How about you show me around your current little house before we go, hmm?”

Silence for what felt like much too long, before a pair of pale ice-blue eyes squinted at him from the small slat in the door. The corners of her eyes slowly turned up as if the rest of her face was smiling. The owner kept back, curious but not enough to look closer.

“This might be an unusual inquiry…” Eggs began and turned back to the owner, his out of place smile dropping from his scarred face. “Might I go in for — oh, let’s say twenty minutes?”

The owner's brows shot up. Sighing and rubbing at his temples, he then both shrugged, shook his head and raised both hands in the air, before tossing something small over to him. "Here, it doesn't work as well as I'd like but it's better than nothing." He was already heading down the hall when he reached back and pressed a button on a small control pad. The door beeped and unlocked itself. The owner called back. "How about I give you thirty, just to be sure." The owner waved and locked the main corridor door behind him. At least this gave him a good time to check on his new fighter.

“Thank you, my new friend!” Eggs called down the hall, tossed the little controller up in the air and caught it again, smiling to himself. This would be an interesting half hour. The Zabrak opened the door and stepped inside, looking at Hera with both disdain and and impish excitement. How he managed both at once was a mystery.

“Well, you’ve certainly looked better,” he said to the Rattataki and shut the cell door behind him. “I came to rescue a princess, but the dragon will have to do.”

Hera licked her lips and stared at him. There was no denying that she didn't look exactly well looked after, still bruised and scratched up from a recent fight. She somehow managed to look wilder, too, like she'd been living feral and alone for the past three months. Her eyes flicked between him and the door and suddenly her entire posture shifted and softened as she slunk the barely two steps over to him, sliding one arm around his shoulders.

Tilting her head up to his ear, she whispered. "Mm, how about you and me swap and I come back for you in three months. See how you look." Hera smiled and ran her one real hand through Eggs' red hair. The hand tightened out of nowhere, and pulled his head down to meet her raising knee.

The pain was sudden but not surprising in the least. If Hera hadn’t attacked him, he’d have thought she was scheming. Not waiting a moment to recover, Eggs thrust his horns into the Rattataki’s abdomen, and only after did he raise a hand to his face to briefly assess the damage.

“Sorry, hon, but I’ve been busy. Lost track of time,” he just managed to growl before pressing the button on the remote in his hand. “You know how it goes.”

Hera barely had time to register what she'd seen in his hand before the shock collar activated. Her jaw clenched tightly, and every muscle in her body contracted until Eggs decided it had been enough. It wasn't the first time she'd had a nasty jolt, nor would it be anywhere near the last. She leaned forward, one arm cradling where the horns had hit, lifting her head enough to grin at him. "Foreplay already? You're spoiling me."

“What else did you think I came in here for?” Eggs raised a brow and nodded towards the closed and locked door. “We got half an hour, so take your pants off.”

"Or what? You'll shock me again?" Hera asked in a sing-songy tone. Not that she wasn't planning to do it, she just liked to push her luck.

“Nah, ya like that too much.” Eggs chuckled and pointed at the horns on his head. “I’ll give you some new piercings if you don’t do as I ask.”

"Boring." Hera said, but shrugged and did as she was asked. She got her answer and that was good enough for now. It would be the most fun she'd had in awhile anyway.

“Borin’, eh?” The Zabrak stepped back to the door and slid the slat closed. “You’re the one who’s borin’. I wasn’t expectin’ you’d just take it all off. Where’s the fun in that, huh?” He folded his arms and leaned back against the door, looking disapprovingly at Hera.

"I still got a shirt on, dickface, so it ain't all off." Hera said, throwing the pants at his face. "And no-one said I was gunna just lie down for you like some rebellious little noble trying so, so hard to get her daddy's attention." Hera cracked her knuckles and neck, licking her lips again. "You want it, you fight me for it."

Eggs pulled the pants from his face and threw them to the floor, sneering at Hera. “That’s better, hon. Ya had me thinkin’ you forgot how all this worked!” The Zabrak cracked his own neck and then lunged at the smaller Rattataki. Smaller probably only in height, however; she was likely hiding more muscle than himself, but he was still a fair fight for her species.

**********************

The owner slowly walked back down the corridor, this time with two of his biggest and burliest guards. This day had started out so nicely, and now he was thinking about the possibility of at least one dead body he'd have to deal with. The owner groaned under his breath and shooed the two guards over while he rubbed at his temples with one hand and opened the door with the other, from a distance of course.

The two guards stepped forward and pushed the door open, ready to fire should someone lunge at them. The sight that met them wasn't exactly as they'd thought it'd be. Yes, there was a lot of blood, but no-one was dead. They were, however, incredibly naked. The guards weren't terribly sure what to do with this, and just looked helplessly back to their boss.

“Oh, it’s been a half hour already?” The Zabrak asked. Bloodied and bruised, Eggs had been taking a few minutes to recuperate from his fight — if one could call it that — with Hera. He kept a grip on the shock collar’s remote and shoved the Rattataki off himself so he could get dressed, not doing much to hide his nude state nor keep his blood from dripping on everything, but really why bother? The bodyguards had already gotten more than an eyeful of the scene.

Hera just grunted at him and stretched, cracking her spine and yawning apparently without a care in the world. The owner blinked slowly, having stepped into view when the reaction was quiet confusion and not a fire fight.

"Please tell me you didn't come here just for that." The owner asked.

“Not initially,” Eggs said as he stepped into his trousers and pulled them up, and then searched around for his shirt. “I did come to trade her, I just also got somethin’ out of my system while I was here— Oh! Did’ya like the Shistavanen, by the way?” The Zabrak seemed to slip right back into his previous demeanour — cool, calm, and collected, and not the unpredictable alien he became in the ‘stables’.

The owner continued staring, the shift in tone catching him off guard. "Yes, yes. A fine example."

Hera leaned back against the wall, hissing then smiling as the cold irritated the fresh cuts on her back. She made no move to get dressed. Just because Eggs implied that she was going to be leaving with him didn't mean it was true, she'd made lies like that before herself many times. Of course she'd be there in the morning. Of course she'd help out. Of course she wouldn't leave you there with a dozen thugs.

“Excellent, my friend. So it’s a deal?” Eggs slipped his shirt on, and then his boots, all relatively quickly, and then straightened out his red hair between his horns and took his coat. “I prefer to have things in writin’, if it’s all the same to ya. Oh, and,” he glanced back to Hera in the room before stepping out, “can your boys here package her up for me, so to speak? I can’t have her loose on my ship.”

"Of course, of course." The owner just nodded slowly, it all made sense in some weird way, didn't it? Right? He waved at the two guards who cautiously made their way into the small room, Hera looked beat up, and was beat up, but that never stopped her from being somewhat of a danger. Hera spat some blood onto the floor, mixing in with all the rest. She looked up with a still-tinted red grin and blew the guards a kiss.

His monkey-lizard, Camawee, however wasn't nearly as polite as his master, and hopped up onto the cyborg's shoulders, and screeched at the unwelcome guest. He grabbed a spanner from a shelf with his tail on the way and threatened Hera with it, waving it above his head.

Hera shrugged, looking him up and down before flashing her teeth towards the monkey-lizard. "Don't tell me you're not still interested in some fun."

Djonwi shook his head and held a hand up to Camawee to settle him down; the monkey-lizard reluctantly obliged and dropped the tool, but remained on his shoulders and defensive. "No, mi no interested. Zer be nice girl now zat I like"---he paused a moment---"and you leave me to die on Hutta! You know zat gang nearly dismantle all of me? Need whole new arm, much implant replacement! An you just strut back 'ere like nosing?"

Hera looked more than a little confused, as if he was just complaining about the most unimportant things imaginable. "So? You're still alive, huh?" She said, picking out another cigarra from one of her pockets.

"Tagwa. Now you go. Shoo-shoo!" Djonwi says, waving her off like she's some stray animal that showed up looking for scraps.

"You're funny," Hera said with a smile, making a move to barge in past him.

Camawee held onto the collar of Djonwi's coat as he stood her ground and actually shoved Hera back from the door with a grunt. "I say shoo! Kark off an bother somebody else, sleemo! I 'ave no time for you."

She stumbled back a step and raised a brow at him, peeking inside past him. "Uh-huh, you look real busy." Hera stepped forward again. "Quit being so whiny, you know we had fun. You just need a reminder."

"Nobata! I no need reminder. You need to leave!" With that, Djonwi went to shut the door in her face.

"What is your problem?" Hera asked, hypocritically, stomping her foot in the doorway.

"You!" Djonwi hissed and refused to let up on the door.

"It's not like I did it myself, y'know. Get over it." Hera kept her foot in the door.

"Oh no, no, no! You know what you do? You do nosing!" Djonwi hissed and opened the door to slam it back on Hera's foot. "You no come 'elp; you just run off. Zat gig no profitable after mess you make!"

Hera grimaced for a split second. "I gave you your cut, didn't I? You weirdo."

"Tagwa, an all zat creeda just go to fix me up!" He opened the door, ready to shut it again. "But you psycho, miss! I sink you will do all zat even if no payment!"

"Maybe." Hera said, it was hard to tell which part she was referring to. She grinned again; the more you saw of her smiles the more noticeably practiced they seemed. "It's okay, you just weren't good enough to get out of trouble that time. Stick to something safer, yeah? Like unlocking datapads for tourists."

"You kark up whole mission," he hisses again, balling his free hand---his organic one---into a fist. "If we go quiet-quiet an follow map I get everysing be luto. But no! No, no, no, you must shoot up everybody! Make so much noise!"

"That was the fun part," Hera said, not understanding at all.

Djonwi just stares at the Rattataki for what feels like the longest few seconds to him, and then shuts the door on Hera once more. There was seriously something wrong with the woman, and he wanted nothing more to do with her lest she harms his health more.

Unluckily for Djonwi, Hera hadn't moved her foot, and this time instead of just standing there she suddenly pushed her way past the door and inside. "You need to calm down. You'll laugh about this later. How about a drink?" Hera asked, glancing around.

The cyborg's lekku twitch along his back anxiously and he looks around his small apartment room quickly. He likely didn't have time to go and grab his blaster without arousing suspicion, neither could Camawee do it sneakily. Djonwi grabbed Hera by the collar and pulled her back to himself.

"What I must do to make you understand I no like you, huh? I already shoot at you before, yes? You need reminder? Or I must break somesing?!" Djonwi growled at her.

Hera tilted her head back and laughed right in his face, lifting one hand up to pat his cheek. "I don't really care."

Djonwi's optics whir behind his goggles quietly as he looks Hera over. Maybe he really would need to break something for the alien to get the message. Ah, an arm. That would do the trick. Her arms were easily within reach, and it would slow her down should she decide to fight back. Djonwi twitched a lek, deliberately for once, and Camawee took his cue to jump over Hera's head to serve as a light distraction.

The cyborg then, keeping a hold on Hera's collar, grabbed her right arm with his cybernetic one and twisted it back. A warning for now. "You need to pick better enemy. Mi nice-nice guy, yes, but you run out of button to push, miss."

The distraction had worked well enough as Hera half ducked out of the monkey-lizard's way. She widened her eyes and hissed as her arm was twisted, perhaps disturbingly she still had a grin on her face. "I dunno, pretty sure I could find another button or two. I gotta wonder, maybe you got an off-switch somewhere, huh?"

"No, no, no," Djonwi says through an angry Twi'lek hiss. He twisted her arm further still, and then began tightening his mechanical grip on it; something would have to snap soon.

"You sure you don't have one?" Hera asked through a grimace, she wasn't immune to pain after all.

"No. But you---you 'ave, yes?" Then finally came the sound Djonwi was waiting for---the unmistakable cracking and snapping of bones. He'd have to thank Ixor again for the new arm; the amount of power in it was truly impressive.

Slowly, Hera's legs began to buckle underneath her. While Rattatakis were known to enjoy a bit of pain in some situations, the slow crushing and splintering of bone wasn't likely to count. She growled through her teeth and stared upwards at him.

Djonwi hadn't yet let go and just watched Hera. "If you no leave right now, Hera, I will put kill-on-sight on your 'ead into mah protocol. You understand, yes?"

She managed to grin again, though it wasn't as wide as it could have been. "I can't leave if you're still holding me."

"Tagwa." The cyborg gave Hera's arm one more twist for good measure, and then let it and the collar of her top go. He then took a step back and politely gestured to the door.

She glanced up and down at him before pushing off of the wall and stepping past. Djonwi’s success meant that no guards were waiting for them, not yet at least. Hera unhooked the blaster from her belt regardless. She might get the chance to shoot something if she was lucky. Hera half looked back and beckoned Djonwi inside. The room was dimly lit and filled with various crates and junk, but a glowing panel stood out against the far wall next to the door that led deeper inside. Hera snapped her fingers and pointed towards it, offering no other explanation or order.

“Oh tagwa, miss, nice Djonwi will go press some button an’ pull up map. Easy-easy,” the cyborg muttered and stepped inside after her. He scanned the area quickly as he approached the panel. Recalling the input codes from the security console outside, Djonwi managed to get into the directory quickly and easily with the computer taking his authorisation codes without further complaints.

As soon as a map of the building came up he took out a datachip and downloaded the information. Things were going smoothly, so far at least, but Djonwi couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong very soon. Maybe it was just the planet; Hutta was never a place he enjoyed very much. But maybe it was his present company. He didn’t think he was the most patient of people in the galaxy, but Hera’s almost over alertness was making him just a little nervous.

“Zer,” he said, putting the datachip into his datapad. “We ‘ave map. Look like we must descend anozer level. Dee prison cell down below.”

“Sweet.” Hera said, raising her blaster. For the longest second it looked like she was aiming at Djonwi. A bright bolt flew past him and hit the panel, sparking and flashing as the door behind him opened. The air was tense as she waited for an alarm to be raised that never came. Snorting to herself, Hera shrugged and sauntered past Djonwi into the next room. She hadn’t bothered to look at the map, and instead peeked around edges of the corridors which faced them.

Djonwi had ducked a little, catching sight of Hera’s blaster just as it went off, and then watched her quietly as she passed him and into the next room. What was the point of him getting a map if she wasn’t even going to use it? The cyborg tapped at some buttons on his goggles to pull it up on his HUD so that at least one of them would know where they were going, and then trotted after her.

“Be more careful, yes?” He said when he caught up with her. “Maybe you no care if you get shot at, but I do! It ‘urt an’ I no like it.” At that, however, Djonwi pulled out his own blaster just in case, and moved into one of the corridors. “Zis way. May be guard at bottom.”

“It doesn’t hurt to get shot at,” Hera said, letting him lead the way for now.

“Yes, it do,” Djonwi corrected her, and then held up a hand and stopped as he heard a sound. He edged up towards the end of the inclined hall where there stood a Weequay guard with his back towards them. With one quick move Djonwi whacked him over the back of the head with his blaster and down he went. No-one else seemed to approach the corridor—not yet anyway—so he stepped over the unconscious guard and beckoned Hera to follow.

“No it doesn’t,” Hera started, shrugging to herself as she stepped over the Weequay, not even looking back as she aimed her blaster and shot the downed guard, continuing as if nothing happened. “It hurts to get shot, not shot at.”

The cyborg flinched but refused to look back; he knew what happened and he didn’t need to see it. Already he was regretting signing onto this gig with Hera and considered bailing, but the call of all those credits and the threat of the Rattataki very likely shooting him in the back if he tried to sneak away kept him in his place. For now at least.

Djonwi walked just a step behind Hera, filtering through the different sounds that reverberated throughout the underground corridor. They were close, but guards and gangsters were closer; their idle chatter and roughhousing heard around the walls. He lowered his voice as he gave Hera directions, “Straight on about seven metres, an’ zen cell be in room on ze right side.”

She raised one hand, at least having the courtesy to acknowledge she heard him before walking into a definitely not empty hallway. The way Hera moved through the corridor towards the cell was more than vaguely unnerving. It almost seemed like she was just taking a pleasant evening stroll, just one that involved shooting people.

Chaos broke out, but not before she picked off a handful with some disturbingly well aimed shots. She hardly even bared her teeth when return fire grazed her arm, but it was enough to catch her off guard. Another large Weequay charged as Hera grinned, just before she was knocked to the ground. The guard fell on top of her but didn’t move much more than that. Quickly, Hera rolled him off of her, exposing a dagger sticking out of his neck. She ducked to grab it before moving forward again.

Djonwi sighed, which he knew wasn’t exactly the correct response, but now he was being inconvenienced to also shoot and punch people. This could’ve gone so much better—but no, Hera had to go and cause a scene. A few guards made their way to Djonwi but were swiftly and very efficiently taken out with assassin droid-like precision—or near it, anyway.

The cyborg let himself become a weapon briefly, at least until the danger had passed. He was even tempted to take Hera out, but something in his mind told him not to, that she might find some way to come back and take revenge. Instead another guard, and then two more, went down. If Djonwi knew they were going to have a blood bath he’d have worn different shoes.

“Luto,” he said with some sarcasm, “now zat dozen people leaking on ze floor, we get zis Weequay out, tagwa?”

“Well, shit,” Hera said, kicking at one of the bodies before rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck. “These fuckers are useless. I only got shot once.”

Hera looked down, wiping the dagger’s blade sort of clean on her pants, nodding and gesturing with her free hand. “Knock yourself out, babe.”

The cyborg muttered something in Huttese under his breath and walked over to the console by the cell, stepping over a couple of the fallen bodies on the way. The console didn’t take Djonwi’s authorisation keys—no, that would be too simple. He grumbled a little and pulled up his left sleeve and retrieved his tools again to slice into the panel itself.

“Zey need new IT guy,” Djonwi comments quietly, “everysing ‘ere so outdated. Gang ‘ave moulee-rah, no? Zey can update zis poodoo easy. But no, make it stoopa an’ inconvenient…” He complained some more and huffed to himself until finally the console gave in and the cell’s ray shield deactivated.

“Did they kill ‘im yet?” Hera asked, not bothering to move the meter or so needed to see the answer herself.

“No,” Djonwi said and stepped inside the room. Their bounty, a Weequay criminal named Jihf Da’reng, was sat in the corner with a black and blue face; unfortunately for them, he was also out cold. They couldn’t waste even more time in there, though, so Djonwi just lifted the guy up over his shoulder with a grunt. If nothing else Jihf wasn’t a big guy. “Luto. We go now, yes?”

“Yeah.” She said, for once sticking around long enough to let Djonwi lead the way. “Don’t trip, babe.”

Hera lifted her head, heavy and fast footsteps were approaching from the way they came. She lifted her blaster, shooting past Djonwi for the second time today.

“Cha woy da!” Djonwi yelped at the blaster shot, and then looked up to see the gangsters moving in on them. He kept a good grip on Jihf with his cybernetic arm and then pulled his own blaster out with the other. He hoped Hera could clear the way now just as easily as she did a few minutes prior; it was either that or they’d need to leave the bounty to make a safe getaway. After making a couple shots, Djonwi glanced around to try to see if there was maybe another exit from the lower corridors but it seemed like today just wasn’t their day.

Before he had time to react a fist which was attached to one of the gangsters had met with Djonwi’s head, slamming him in the temple to stop him in his tracks. The blow knocked his goggles off alignment, he misfired at his assailant, and then tried to grab anything beside himself to keep upright as Jihf wasn’t helping him keep his balance at all.

The guard grabbed for Djonwi’s collar, pulling him close enough to head-butt him. Finally Hera looked back from down the hall, noticing Djonwi’s predicament. She frowned and started picking a path back to him, shooting anything in her way. The cyborg saw stars for a moment and dropped their bounty to the floor so he could actually fight back, throwing a fist out at the guard; his own balance, however, was already unsteady from the blows to the head and his goggles relaying visual data improperly.

Unluckily for Djonwi, the attempted punch missed its mark and soon he found himself with his arm and twisted behind him, and his face rammed into the nearby wall for his troubles. The bounty on the floor below him suddenly jerked, seemingly sliding away under its own power.

Hera lifted up the still unconscious body and was already heading for the door, blasting through anyone trying to stop her. She didn’t look back, she was leaving her partner to his fate. A boot met the base of Djonwi’s spine with no small amount of force, he wasn’t going to be let go, not now that he’d been caught.

“Echuta!” Djonwi managed to shout after Hera as he caught sight of her making a hasty exit. He yelped again and grunted at the last blow to his back; the cyborg’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor, dropping his blaster somewhere amongst the fight. Trying to make head or tail of the guards through the glitching HUD of his goggles, Djonwi made one more attempt to strike out at someone and threw his body weight into, well, a guard’s legs hopefully.

"Good evening, miss!" Djonwi said with a shallow bow at the waist. "Mr. Wilkes at your service. Might you be Herasek?"

"Huh." Hera looked him up and down then jerked her head towards one of the free stools, keeping her head tilted. "At my service, eh? From the way I read it, I figured you wanted me to service you." She teased, her wording very deliberate. Setting the pitcher back onto the table, but making no motion of moving her feet off of it, she gave him a small lop-sided smile.

"Oh, I think we could arrange that, too," the Twi'lek chuckled mechanically and took a seat at the table. "I hope you don't mind my friend Camawee here." He nodded to the monkey-lizard which jumped from his shoulder onto another stool. "But business first, yes? Tell me what it is you do specifically. I want to make sure I contacted the right pretty face," he grinned and took the pitcher to pour himself a glass.

"Well," She started, hissing a breath through her teeth, "I like variety. I also like credits, and morals don't fill my stomach." Hera looked him up and down again before stretching one gloved arm out to scratch under Camawee's chin. "I'll haul cargo - any cargo. I can help procure rare and expensive goods at a cut down price, but I'm also partial to kicking faces in if that's what you want."

"Interesting, interesting." Djonwi took his glass and sat back in his chair, taking a drink, his own cybernetic eyes glowed behind his goggles as he in turn looked over Herasek, a curious smirk on his scarred face. "I think this'll be more of a--case by case thing. I won't just be travelling around, plundering ships constantly," he chuckled. "But I need some skilled hands, you understand. I'm tougher than my soft exterior would lead you to believe, but my place is behind a computer."

"I have skilled hands, trust me." Hera removed her hand from the monkey-lizard and picked up the pitcher again. "You still a fighter?"

Camawee gave an enthusiastic nod and reached for his master's drink. Djonwi took his glass away but picked another one up from a passing waitress and poured a drink for his companion, setting it down for him.

"I wouldn't mind seeing for myself just how skilled you are with them." The Twi'lek smirked at the woman, but shook his head. "A fighter? What gave that away? The bruises on my face?"

"Bruises on you face just means someone else hit you." Hera shrugged, finally dropping her feet off of the table to lean forward. "I did a little reading between your message and now. Some things were pretty interesting."

"Hah, you should see the other guy!" Djonwi laughed and took a swig of his drink. "I'm curious what it is you read about me," he said with a smile and leaned in. Camawee rolled his eyes and groaned before guzzling down some of his own beer.

Hera leaned in closer, smiled, and then sat back again having grabbed the pitcher from the table. "You used to be a pit-fighter, why'd you stop?"

Djonwi flashed a toothy grin and sat back in his chair, flexing his left arm. "It's pretty stupid to continue fighting creatures in a pit after you lose an arm and crack your skull open."

"I dunno, I think it'd make you more of a threat. You come back from that, people're gunna notice." Hera kept focused on him while trying to find her straw, which only managed to spin it away from her.

"Probably," Djonwi said and reached over to stabilise Hera's straw. "But I'd probably be dead by now too and I like credits and spending credits too much to die fighting a Wookiee just to entertain some Hutt."

"That's why you do it for fun and credits in other pit fights." Hera said, giving him a wink and blowing him a kiss before taking a sip from her straw. "Wookiees are crazy fun to fight, so much air time."

"Now and again, sure, but I'm not at young as I was."

"Saying you can't keep up any more?" She smiled.

"I'd argue that's not the case but," Djonwi smiled in return and curled a plump lek around his shoulder. "I wouldn't say no if you wanted to test that for yourself."

"I said 'keep up', not 'keep it up'." She took another sip from the pitcher. "I'm pretty sure you can still do the second bit."

"True," the Twi'lek laughed and turned to Camawee. "You know, it's been a long time since I've sparred with a Rattataki. Especially such a pretty one!" The monkey-lizard cackled in response and held his glass out to Hera and pointed at the pitcher for a top off.

"That better not've been a sarcastic laugh there, little man." Hera said, flicking her gaze to Camawee. She leaned over to pour some of the beer into the offered glass, whispering something to him before sitting back. Hera set the jug down, the contents now nearly finished. "It's good you've sparred before, you'll know what to expect when I beat you."

Camawee cringed and pulled his glass back defensively, shooting a glare at Hera. Djonwi shook his head and waved a hand at the monkey-lizard. "Ignore him, he's just jealous," the Twi'lek smiled and spun his glass a little. "I'm curious what you do with your conquests in battle."

Hera quickly grabbed Djonwi's collar and tugged him closer, meeting him halfway to whisper in his ear.

Djonwi smiled broadly and whispered back, putting a hand on hers. His monkey-lizard watched the two and narrowed his eyes; he wasn't having any of this. Camawee squawked and jumped onto Djonwi's head, knocking over some glasses on the way up and started smacking at the buttons on his master's goggles, continuing to make a ruckus.

"You little--!" The Twi'lek stood up quickly and grabbed at Camawee who jumped right back off again.

Falling back into her chair, Hera started cackling just as loud as Camawee been earlier. She offered no help, only watching the other two as well as she was able to with tears of laughter, and nearly a full pitcher of beer, blurring her vision. "Your little friend wants a three-way!"

"Maybe I can send him to a pet store." Djonwi pulled his goggles off to reset them and glared as best as he could at the monkey-lizard with his cybernetic oculars, swearing to himself a bit. Camawee seemed to get the message, for now at least, and settled back down on his stool. "Right. Okay. So, Herasek? How about you and I go back to my place, hm? We can talk more--business there," he said with a mischievous grin.

Hera placed both hands on the table and pushed herself up after wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Sure, after I add some more bruises to your collection."

"And I'll be sure to last longer than a few minutes in the sparring match," Djonwi said with a laugh and held an arm out to her. Camawee knocked back the rest of his own drink which he'd miraculously not spilt, and then hopped back onto Djonwi's shoulder.

"Hopefully not just for the spar." She said with a smile. Hera thought to herself for a second, gauging the effects of evening of drinking before taking his arm. "You wouldn't want to disappoint me."