Gods And Monsters (Dire)

[Poludnica]

Theme

Vjun was a disgusting place. It's atmosphere was soaked in acidic stench of harming rain and ground bare, muddy. Almost nothing grew there, leaving only thick lichen and small invertebrates to thrive in the lifeless, rocky deserts. But even there, among barren mountains, humans managed to built a foothold. The closed cities, protecting its inhabits from the outside suffocating atmosphere and harsh winds, stood proudly between desolated patches of ruined land. They weren't very bright nor rich like Jeamous or Mygeeto, resembling villages basked in toxic fumes rather than glamorous forest of skyscrapers. Even inside the city walls the ground had unhealthy hue of curdled milk. For the most the planet was nothing more than an uninteresting, almost dead rock hanging in the forgotten part of the known space. People there were poor, used to lack of attention from the rest of the Galaxy.

Danica hated to see such neglected Human society but their fate didn't really chased sleep from her eyelids. This made pillaging few remained ruins after Vjun original inhabitants much easier and cheaper. It was enough to pay off few officials, hire a small crew of locals eager to earn some solid credits and she was all set. One thing Danica didn't foresee though – the native population superstitious nature. The lost catacombs they had uncovered on an island near the mainland caused a wave of a contagious fear among the workers. Talks about some ancient beasts, ghosts, spirits and traps. After two of the local laborers had been found dead others instantaneously rebelled, abandoning their posts. Not even increasing the paycheck didn't help.

Thinking about the money she had lost on this venture and lost treasurers the collectors would pay heftily for kept Danica on the bare rock, hoping to find a solution. There were plenty of underground passageways, forgotten rooms to explore but she couldn't do it alone. Behind the crude ghost stories could lay much more dangerous truth. No one skilled enough had accompanied her and Nieraan had been away on some Sith business. It would take few days for him to reach Vjun - as much as Danica loved her man, that was way too long. Instead decided to look for help in the close vicinity of the planet.

One bounty hunter had answered to the message, one called Nihlus Cairn. Danica had never heard about him nor knew anyone who could tell her more. Tired of being stuck losing money, she agreed to at least meet him in a tiny bar right next to the docks. Neither the place nor meeting warranted any glam, Danica sported a simple form-fitting blue jumpsuit and high boots to avoid poodles of suspicious goo that spread between pavements. Black hair were neatly gathered in a ponytail but without typical for Danica trinkets adorning them. Only very light make up brightened the woman's features, betraying she was there for work and nothing else. Though a careful observer could spot the materials were actually quite expensive and the boots were made of genuine and rare leather thought that was the only thing that marked Danica's wealth.

Delicately glossed lips pursed around a straw when Danica took a dainty sip from the drink, some terribly tasting lichen beer. Wincing at the taste, she pushed away the glass and looked around the claustrophobic interior. A drowsy bartender was cleaning the bar, his movements slow and lazy. It perfectly fitted the sickly nauseating atmosphere of the entire planet. The Coruscanti woman sighed, hoping for all this business to be over quickly. A small droid showed up, offering some greenish peanuts before Danica shooed it away with an annoyed gesture. The bounty hunter couldn't have showed up any sooner.

[Dire Wolf]

Just outside of the bar a ship that was too small to be a light freighter, but too large to be a bomber slowly descended from the heavens and gently came to rest on the pockmarked duracrete landing pad. Its jet black hull was sleek and sported gentle curves that made it look almost like a great bird had come to roost near the cantina. Moments after the landing skids had touched the corroded pavement the ship hissed as its own pressure equalized with the world around it, and a ramp slowly lowered from its belly. Jets of thick white gas streamed from the edges of the ship’s hull as a man in thick, bulky armor casually stepped down the gentle decline of his ship’s ramp. His face was obscured by a thick plate on his smooth, stark white helmet yet he somehow managed to see the world around him.

For a trice, at least, the dock workers weren’t even sure that this man was a person at all, but instead was a high tech droid with an equally foreign looking weapon slung across his chest. When the man’s boots met with the worn pavement of the landing craft he looked up at the orange sky and its sickly clouds. It would rain soon, or at least his helmet’s atmospheric alerts told him so. Normally he wouldn’t care if a little rain slicked off of his armor, but standing out in the Vjunese rain was the same as taking a swim in a vat of acid. His ship’s shields would protect her, but his armor had no such luxury.

“E-excuse me, sir? You… ahh… you can’t land here.” A slender man with a nervous look on his face was the only one with the courage to approach the man-droid-thing.

The lithe man’s courage left him when that smooth, visorless face turned to view him head on, but instead of a threat he only found just enough credit chits for the docking and service fees.“I don’t think you understand, sir. This pad is, ahh, already reserved for a different ship. She’s scheduled to be here in under an hour.”

Again, the creature remained silent but placed more credit chits into the man’s hand, this time it was more than he made in a month. He nodded and began to scurry off when a powerful hand caught his shoulder. A voice that sounded almost man, and almost machine sounded from the faceless helmet like a deep rumble of bumblebees. ”Don’t go inside, my engineer has everything in order. She needs to refuel and rearm, nothing more.”

The human nodded and absentmindedly repeated the man’s words back before his shoulder was released, and he could finally scurry off to do his job. He hoped that the terrifying creature would leave before the pad’s scheduled clients arrived. Blood may have been negligible to clean off of the duracrete, but the structure didn’t need any more explosions. That was for sure.

--- --- --- ---

Nihlus Cairn smiled ear to ear beneath that visorless face at the man’s reaction to his new suit. The armor had set him back more than he cared to admit, but it was worth every penny. Fear cut to far deeper depths than a blaster or even a lightsaber could hope to reach. Even the voice modulator Jae, his engineer, had installed post-market was beyond-badass. The dock hand looked like he soiled himself when he heard Nile’s voice. That would make the man work even harder for all of the credits that had been thrown his way, and maybe even help with the ship that was supposed to land in an hour. Though he doubted that last part. Fear was a powerful thing, but the people that succumbed too easily were about as useful in a fight as a snail.

The walk between his ship and the cantina’s entrance was a short one, and once inside he saw that it was nicer than most of its counterparts on the rest of the planet. Lichen beer and other microbrews were about the only things that they had from a short glance at the menu posted near the bar and the liquors behind the tender droid. Shame, really: there wasn’t anything better than a Coruscanti Rain spiked with spice after doing a bit of violence. People didn’t call him unless there was violence to be done, or they thought it might be. Alas, he wasn’t on the “wonderful” planet of Vjun to drink, or take a few hits of spice: he was there to work.
A quick the scan of the room brought a paltry few bounties, and not a one worth his time according to the readout on his H.U.D. There was one woman that fit the description, and he stepped over in the same casual manner as his entrance. Nile’s voice rumbled deep through his helmet as he gazed at her through that visorless, eyeless helmet. “What’s the job?”

[Poludnica]

The doors opened and an armored man walked in. Danica's eyes widened at the sight. Worrisome began to brew under the calm surface as she gripped tightly at the glass filled with lichen beer. The knuckles whitened from the pressure but the Coruscanti woman didn't notice it. Instead busy with wondering if the armored creature posed any danger. Cassius had made her paranoid – her father certainly watched every move with a vigilance of a well trained hawk. Making sure Danica knew that if he wanted her dead, nothing would stand in his way.

Only when the tall, looming figure asked a question, with a voice distinctly changed by the hollow echo from behind the helmet did Danica relax. So it was someone she was expecting after all. Her grassy green eyes moved to scan the heavy armor that obscured the man's features which didn't ease the sense of uneasiness. Bounty hunters were shady types, greedy and untrustworthy at large and only promise of payment kept them loyal. Even the Sith presented more loyalty when it came to business than those types that crawled from the Galaxy's underbelly.

And this one would have to watch over her life in a forgotten tomb...

”Sit.” Danica gestured at the seat. The woman felt no need to be courteous so didn't offer any greeting as the armored man felt no such thing was necessary himself. Whereas it was unnerving he disrespected her so much, it came hardly as a surprise. Those types knew nothing about etiquette of the high born citizens. Living with Nieraan severely desensitized her to such things. The Firrerreo himself barely keeping up with the complex rules of the savoire vivre despite being a 'Lord'. ”First of all.” Danica started, her voice clear an assured – high born Coruscanti accent ringing in it. Giving it a sophisticated lilt of High Galactic undertones. ”I would ask you to remove the helmet as I have no habit to deal with people I can't see.” The woman finished and removed stark white gloves that hid her lissome digits.

[Dire Wolf]

A pair of blue eyes studied the pretty albeit haughty woman through his helmet’s view cam as she gazed back up at him. She was easy to read. This ‘Danica’ thought that she was better than him because of some special breeding or financial success. He had seen it before. The ironic truth was that a certain drug-using-royal-bastard-bounty-hunter not only stood above them in societal status but also where the bank was concerned. Helping his schutta of a sister with her rebellion had endowed the already rich man with almost unending wealth as if he hadn’t stolen it from his family ten years before that. Nihlus could live on one of those Cato Nemoidian houses with fancy butlers and fancier servant girls for the rest of his life if he chose. Violence and drugs were too much fun to give up, though.

Under normal circumstances he would have simply scoffed, shrugged, and blew her off like the peasant that she was. These were no normal circumstances, though. She was a potential client and the job sounded like a decent change of pace from those simple run ‘em down and kill ‘em contracts. Simple fun as they may have been the man evolved passed those long ago. So no: he didn’t shrug her off. Instead the man slumped down into a seat that could barely hold the weight of him and his armor.

Moments later the locks and seals in his helmet began to disengage to the sound of a faint whir. Plates soon popped and clicked out of seams that were near invisible seconds beforehand, and air hissed out from the previously pressurized environment around his head. A stench filled Nihlus’ nostrils as his enviro-seals fully disengaged. It was enough to make his nose crinkle for a moment before he pulled his helmet off to let it rest on the table beside him. Vjun was an arid, smelly place that he didn’t much like to go.

Nihlus clicked his jaw once before resting his forearms on the table. His voice wasn’t quite as deep as his helmet’s voice modulator lead one to believe, “so. Why does such a…. high class… woman like yourself need a scumbag like me?” A roguish smirk pulled at one side of the man’s lips. People rarely knew when he was making fun of them.

That was the funniest part.

[Poludnica]

To her endless surprise the man complied without any protest. She didn't know much about the armors, only had taken a really good look at Nieraan's set that seemed less...Danica had no idea how to properly name the impression. The closest one was glamorous like a dress would be if custom made by an exquisite tailor. The woman had an eye for expensive things, even if they were armors, swords or guns. It was this special sense of a hound that always sniffed out the greasiest, largest bone. A good craftsmanship surpassed such trivial matters as the type of the garment.

If this man had enough money to built this, why would he be interested in a contract that didn't really pay this well? Always sniffing the traps – the paranoia Cassius had pushed his daughter into a robust paranoia, especially after he had played her on Nar Shaddaa. Absentmindedly her hand moved down to caress the stomach as tight knot of fear nestled in the dried throat. No, Cassius couldn't be everywhere at once, this planet wasn't his territory. She pushed away the worries and leaned back in the chair. Hiding anxiety and worry behind the mask of nonchalant elegance.

”There is something I need to do around a local tomb.” Danica started, measuring the man with a bright, even bit drowsy gaze. He looked rather young, handsome and human. Even tidy all things consider, though Nieraan did knocked her standards down a notch when it came to amount of tolerable scruffiness. The only thing that unsettled the Coruscanti woman were blue eyes – cold and calculating. Betraying confidence further strengthened by the mischievous smirk and an odd, sarcastic edge to his words. Danica tilted her head, not really sure if take it for a flirt...No, the tone of voice suggested mocker, the way his voice hung at the high class lady. As if it was a capricious snap rather than an honest title a gentleman would use. The woman didn't have many talents, especially in terms of physicality but knew how to read people: and this one sounded like a pile of snark.

”Natives are too scared but I assume a bird of paradise among the bounty hunters won't get upset by a few ghost stories.” She added coyly, making a subtle almost ethereal jab at the fabulous armor. This was a man that liked to make impression for sure, giving the voice modulator and intimidation that went with it. Danica didn't mention the dead excavators, not yet. Local law enforcement didn't share any details to how the poor sods died, only fueled the surreptitious fear that befell the native population.