Business of Emotion//The Blind Auction

[Neology]

No life to it. Hmm. Jayec’s heavily armed and armored self fell in behind them, impossible to read beneath the helmet. The crowd seemed lively enough to her, united in pursuit of one vice or another and slowly building up a buzzing psychic warmth that bled through even her muted senses. Lidah could become quite intoxicated on that alone, if she wished. If she would let herself. But the root word of intoxicated was still toxic – and there were half a million other reasons why that was a terrible idea. Though ... It would be fun, perhaps, to be entirely irresponsible at one of these things someday. Never in the cards for tonight, though. Even if there hadn’t been any Sith or Jedi around. ”Guess you’ll have to show me a real Mandalorian party someday, my fine friend. The sound must be very singular. All those metal plates clanking together ...” Lidah paused for just a moment, then smoothly continued on her way despite sensing something quite peculiar. Vance, equal parts angry and scheming. Why would that be? ”You know, Jayec, I’m quite safe with Tyrvast to look after me. Would you keep an eye on that young man from earlier? The zeltron. Whatever he’s here for, I intend to take it home with me.” Lidah winked and drifted away at Locke’s side. Say one thing for Nar Shaddaa nightlife, it made it wonderfully easy to pretend nothing was wrong. ”Mhmm. The much-romanticized love affair cover, I’m sure you know it. Every security man’s dream, right?” She didn’t think that was quite so universal as the vids made it seem, though her voice was pitched conspiratorially low, breathy and inviting. In this particular case the lie wrapped back around into truth. Became something wonderful. If only briefly. ”I’m sure my toes are safe. Yours, now, I don’t know about ...” There were parallels to be made, between fencing and dancing. They were too good at one to be entirely hopeless at the other. After a few minutes, Lidah’s eyes flickered closed, willfully committing this moment and this feeling to memory. As if she could learn to live off it alone in worse times than these. ”Yeah. That would be something.” Impossible, for starters. Or at least very improbable. That path was littered with questions she could never actually ask, though of course she thought about them from time to time. Locke’s shoulder went tense beneath her fingertips. She encouraged him to turn them around again with an impatient let-me-see jostle. The zeltron stood out, of course, nearly as pale as she was. Less so the young woman in the cat mask, whose body language read as decidedly uncomfortable no matter what words were coming out of her mouth just then. ”That’s her, isn’t it?” The other Jedi. Somehow not the fearsome boogeyman that Lidah had imagined on the other side of that wall. But then, she wouldn’t have to be. ”Go if you need to. I’ll be fine.”

[Deleted]

The moment she placed her hand in his, he lead her out to the center of the dance floor in the most crowded, and noisy area that he could find. His body was a comfortable distance away from her. He knew that his touch repelled her, how could it not when he was what he was. Looking down at her through his half opera mask his golden eyes searched hers for a time, and something like a smile broke across his lips for a moment, and then it disappeared suddenly.

”I need you to leave this place...Things are going to get very dangerous, very quickly...I would rather you not get caught in it.” the words were spoken simply, and almost plainly. ”I am surrounded by many enemies, and there is someone here I have potentially upset...And she is not one to trifle with...So I need you to go…” His voice was several conflicting emotions, but he held a steady tone as he lead her through a simple waltz letting the song play over them, as he spoke to her.

”I know you hate me, I know what you, and others like you think of me, and that doesn’t bother me. I am what I was made into...But if you believe anything I have ever said to you, it is that I don’t want you harmed. And I will be forced to use everything in my arsenal if a fight breaks out.I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.” there was an urgency to his tone, but his face was all smiles as he put up the act of the carefree Sith. They didn’t need to see his weakness here or now.

Featherlight, Moonfire hovered a respectful distance, not letting her skin or skirt brush him. She felt hyper-conscious of it. Save room for the Force. She might have laughed at the absurdity of it if not for the pit in the bottom of her stomach as fingers cupped delicately with his. Skirts twirled about her knees as the pair swayed, eyes concentrating on his face with every word. Her lips thinned.

“I-- I didn’t say--” She stopped, stuffing the words back down. That wasn’t important now, the distinctions between hate and fear distrust muddled even now. Stiffening the woman pulled herself to her full height with another careful turn. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

He listened to what she said, and just let out a sigh as he twirled her lightly in his fingertips. She truly didn’t understand, she was still no naive about the world despite growing older. Pulling her out of the twirl, and closer to him, he seemed mildly exasperated.

”You don’t understand...When this fight breaks out you’re not going to be helping me Moonfire...You’re going to be fighting against me. You’re going to help out your little boyfriend over there, who by the way is seething right now. It doesn’t matter if I start it, or not...At the end of the day you are going to fight against me. I don’t wish to fight you, period.” he spoke the words like facts.

He knew better, he knew that when the chips were on the table she wasn’t going to aid him. She would be just another enemy, and he didn’t want that. It was selfish of him, but he was a Sith...He was allowed to be selfish.

Her neck arched, blue eyes searching the teeming mass of whirling dancers before flicking back to Zexva’s, perhaps a touch defiant. Cheeks reddened beneath the mask, brows furrowing as the pair moved in surprising sync. So many things to correct, so many places she felt she had to set the record straight.

“You don’t understand.” She began, her voice cutting a quiet and unfamiliar edge. “I’m not here for you, I’m not here for them. I’m not--” A hitch in her breath moved to calm her down, to take the noxious frustration and baser fear and compartmentalize it for later. There was no use in getting flustered, in letting the young man prey on her emotional reactions. Moonfire’s voice dropped lower. “I’m not some terrified child cornered on Zeltros or a cave anymore. I’m not here for whatever enemies you’ve made, Zexva. But if you raise a hand against me do not be surprised when I strike back.”

He couldn’t help, but let out a small laugh at her words, and he to physically resist the urge to facepalm. People just didn’t listen to him, even when he was trying to be nice, and help them. Even when he was just trying to make sure that she stayed safe.

”None of you listen...That is the problem...I quite literally don’t care what you are here for, I could probably already guess myself. Did you not hear a word I just said? If a fight breaks out Moonfire and you see your friend in danger from me...What are you gonna do?” clear concise, and straight to the point was how he spoke to her.

Moonfire’s eyes narrowed, thin slits of dark blue through the holes of her mask. “Don’t you dare accuse me of not listening. I hear you quite clearly. ‘I can promise you though that you are going to wish you had killed me when I gave you that chance on Zeltros.’” She repeated, the words branded in her mind as the dance began to pick up pace, the energy infectious. “You said that to me. Not even a week ago. And you want me to believe you have my best interests at heart? You want to assure my safety? You want us not to fight? Don’t fight my friends. Don’t break my cover by speaking my name aloud where I too have enemies. Leave.”

Another deep breath. Another desperate bid for control as flushed cheeks burned. “It’s not too late, Zexva. We can part ways here.” For a moment there she saw him as he was. A boy in a bad situation, a poor deal of the cards. And herself a child begging him to let her help. “You don’t have to do this.”

He listened to her as they continued to dance, it was easy for him to keep rhythm one of the many skills he had picked up during his seven year mission. It was perhaps the nicest skill that he had, as killing, and torture were not skills that were considered nice. He simply listened to her, and the hypocrisy of her words bothered him. For a Jedi she was being very emotional, and for a Sith he was being logical. It was a cruel twist of irony.

”You can’t hold the alleyway against me...You pointed a blaster at me, and punched me...I have never once treated you like an enemy. Not once...I’ve never laid a finger on you, unless you count the cave, and even then I had the mind to miss...I have never once lied to you, or treated you as anything more than a person. Yet here you are lecturing me. That’s amusing.” his tone lost it’s emotion as it often did when he put his guard up. His defense mechanism so that no one would know how they were affecting him.

”You ask me to not fight your friends...But what if they come after me...Should I just die like a good boy then? Should I let your friends kill me?” he asked her quirking a brow. ”Because in case you haven’t noticed I’ve been civil this entire time...Save for one person who you don’t know...Even then I wasn’t entirely rude to her...Either way. I’ve been behaving here I’ve done nothing wrong yet...So don’t you dare treat me as if I have.” it was effort to keep his voice in check. To keep all emotion out of it. ”I asked you to leave because I know that if that boy you were dancing with earlier decides to come over here all anger, and rage, and tries to start something with me. I know what side you are going to be on, and I don’t want that...It’s that simple. And don’t try to tell me otherwise...You’ve always been afraid of me, even now I can feel it on you…” He looked at her, his molten gold eyes over her face.

Her last plea affected him if a bit subtly. It made him hesitate to answer for a split second, but she wouldn’t listen to him. She didn’t believe him, he could probably have her read his mind, and she still wouldn’t believe a word that he said. But he shrugged a bit.

”The funny thing is...The rules are ironically on my side here...As long as I don’t break them none of you can make me leave. Perhaps pass along that information to your boy toy before the auction starts yes? I don’t want him to interrupt us…” He was a simple man right now...He just wanted to dance for once.

Moonfire’s hand twitched in his, head shaking as once more she stuffed the whirlwind of feelings away. Frustration. Anger. Revulsion. After a moment she stepped back, disentangling from the dance. This wasn’t making sense, backpedaling and circular logics. He was trying to protect her by provoking her. He was trying to be nice.

Part of her wanted to set the record straight. To tell him she had no real affiliation with whatever enemies he’d made of Thel and Novus, that she had no boytoy to speak of. That she, quite frankly, didn’t give a fuck about whatever rules he was following or not. Did she want him dead? No. But this was too much.


“I’m done.” She shook her head, a single finger extending before balling back down into a pseudofist. A palm lifted, open and non confrontational, not enough to alert anyone of their terse conversation but signal her end. “You want to avoid a fight? You’re more than welcome to leave peacefully, I’d prefer it even. But I’m not doing this anymore.”

The doublespeak was exhausting, the way he seemed to twist every thought and consideration to him being right was impossible to follow. Her eyes flicked to Thel, the seething man working his way down the staircase. She didn’t know what he’d do, if anything, but she didn’t take him for a murderer. Turning back to Zexva the woman shook her head, tousled black hair shaking with the movement. “I’ve said everything I can on the matter. I’m not leaving.”

Stubbornness must run within the Jedi Order. Or at least that is what he thought even when someone didn’t want them to be hurt. He simply sighed as she pulled away, and spoke her piece.

”That is understandable I suppose...If a bit saddening...I tried.” he bowed to her politely, and walked away without another world.

I tried… a slight flicker in his emotions as he walked off to the nearest waiter, and grabbed another glass of champagne. It was going to be a long night, and he still had much time before the data cylinder he wanted would be up.

I guess it wouldn’t be fun if it was easy… the words were hollow even as he thought them, it brought him no joy, but it was what it was, and he would just have to do what he always did.

[Fromikeable]

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but there’s got to be some other way to deal with this.”

"Not at the moment. Have four dozen guns trained at the dance floor by the time the next song's over." Turning with a purpose to move toward the stairs, Vance stopped himself, wincing. Looking back to Io'an, he couldn't muster the courage for a smile, settling instead for a look between guilty and apologetic.

"Also, I'm sorry." With that, he was marching down the stairs, zipping toward Jayec. Finding the Mandalorian was easy enough, the beskar'gam standing out even when painted. Coming up beside him, Vance surveyed the dancefloor as his presence shot out, hunting for its target. Sure enough, there they were in the center, the Sith cracking smiles and Iris giving looks of outrage as they spoke. Watching them as they moved, Vance also took note of the crowd around them, Lidah and Locke enjoying a far less tense dance elsewhere. If he had his way, this confrontation would be so short that the dancefloor wouldn't even need to clear before it was done.

"I'm going for him." Nudging Jayec with his elbow, Vance glanced at the Mandalorian from the corner of his mask. "Security's going to threaten to mow us down. Let them kick us out, and make sure you don't see him-" Vance jutted his chin at the Sith, "-in here for the rest of the night." Tapping the beskar'gam's shoulder, Vance finished with a quick "I'll buy you a drink later" as he departed again, circling the dancing crowd.

As the song began to wind down, Vance did his best to put on his act. Allowing his irritation and anger to spill into his presence, he made sure that it bathed the dancefloor like an angry rash, trying to strike a balance between making it clear and keeping it in check. Stealing a drink from a passing waiter, Vance took a quick swig before dropping the glass, swishing the liquid around in his mouth before swallowing to ensure that his breath reeked of it. A finger roughly undid his collar and top button before his hands ripped his jacket off, tossing it callously to the side. For the piece de resistance, he rolled up his sleeves past his elbows, his saber hilt zipping to his hand from his pocket.

Most of it was an act, but he still looked how he felt. This Forcedamn Sith had done enough for one night.

Striking a steady pace toward the newly-single Sith, Vance prepared his voice, grumbling to give it a gravel. As he neared, words proved slower than actions as his free hand snapped out like a spring, grabbing the Sith's collar. With a vice-like grip on the shirt, Vance's saber-wielding hand balled into a fist around the instrument, launching forward toward the Zeltron's pale, welcoming cheek.

"Get the fuck off of my moon!"

As if on cue, the far wall of the ballroom exploded with a fireball, debris launching through the air into the crowd.

[CaptainBonkers]

Jayec wasn't sure what the hell had just happened. He had followed miss Faine's suggestion to keep an eye on the zeltron but by the time he arrived to the scene, that Zeltron was dancing with Thel's girl. Thel didn't seem to be taking it too well, seeing how he asked Jayec to make sure that the bloke didn't get back in once they got thrown out. Jayec could do as much but could see a hole in the plan. What if the guards threw everyone they had seen with Thel this evening out as well just to make sure there would not be any further trouble with them. Especially concerning how both Thel and the sleazeball zeltron had both been spotted in miss Faine's company. That wouldn't really help his employer to get what she wanted out of the auction, would it. But maybe he could help with that. Maybe if he was to cause enough mayhem the guards would be too busy to...before Jayec had a chance to finish the thought someone blew up a damn wall. The mandalorian almost squealed in joy. Something to do, finally!

Without pondering it further, he drew both of his guns and opened fire towards the breach in the wall as he moved towards a nearby table, picking the shouting and jeering Ylva along on the way, which he quickly flipped over for cover and began assessing the situation. Of course, doing so did not stop him from taking the occasional potshot at the party crashers pouring through the smoking hole in the wall. This was gonna be a good night. Provided of course that no-one killed any of his buddies. That would be a major downer. Well at least Ylva was here with him, safely behind the relatively thick table. The zabrak was so thoroughly blitzed that Jayec wasn't entirely sure letting her wander off alone was a good idea. But even drunk she was a better shot than most were sober.

"Here." Jayec said, handing her his pistol. "Arm yourself and prepare for a fight. This evening got a lot more interesting."  

[Moonfire]

The feline mask bobbed some as Moonfire tried to clear the clamor in her head, a hand moving up underneath the rub along her golden cheek. A few steps brought her back to the bar, skin buzzing from where Zexva’s hand had just rested on her clothed hip as the Force buzzed in clear and vibrant irritation.

Sense had never been Moonfire’s best skill-- In fact she was, as one youngling instructor described, ‘virtually blind’. A gross overstatement of course, but the image was still quite clear. The young girl struggled deeply with focusing enough to truly feel the Force and the presence of others. Years of training had made things more serviceable, and as such Moonfire felt the tickle of Thel’s rage, head turning to watch as his hands made quick work of the well tailored shirt sleeves. “Oh, Force.”

“No… No… Thel, don’t you--” She watched with drink in hand, voice under her breath as she watched the scene begin to play out. What had gotten him so riled up? Tossing the drink she’d just ordered, completely untouched, back to the table the woman grabbed the small clutch purse once more, eyes trailing as her friend made his way to the Zeltron.

There was no thought. Not a single moment wasted on what she’d do. On whether or not she’d take up arms to defend her new friend, or anyone else to earn Zexva’s ire or violence. She’d do what was right. Like always.

Following in Thel’s wake the woman frowned, weaving back and forth through the crowd hands fumbling for the blaster holster concealed by ruffled skirts at her thigh. Her hands barely wrapped about the grip when a blast knocked her back.

For the briefest moment Moonfire wasn’t sure if she was the one who was punched, eyes blinking back dust and sooty debris as the throbbing dance beat of the latest pop hit pulsed from the nearby speakers. Shuffling up to her knees she blinked again, taking in the commotion before her.

Figures clad in ragtag armour, mercenaries by the looks of it, poured from a hole in the skypalace’s outer walls. Lining the walls the armed men held defensive positions, blaster rifles pointed as they began to encircle the crowded ballroom. With a few high-pitched blasts the attention of the crowd was drawn back to the stage, the obnoxious Zeltron-- Their delightful Master of Ceremonies stood with a manic grin, gun held high in the air as he whistled for attention.

”Eyyyyyy fuckos!” The man laughed, a hand tossing back his shock of glossy chestnut hair as he surveyed the crowd, gun comfortable and casual in hand. ”Now, you folks might be askin’ yourselves-- The fuck is happenin’ right here? Well, don’t you worry baby-birds, Pukk’s gonna feed ya.”

Taking a few careful steps forward the man stripped himself of the oversized white tuxedo jacket to reveal the blotted out sun logo beneath, tossing it onto a gawking slave-waitress. ”You folks had the audacity ta’ not invite me an’ my boys the Black Suns ‘ere. So, rather than miss the party, we thought we’d crash it-- Ya’ll don’t mind do ya?”

The charismatic man gestured to the armed group of Black Suns who moved to choke the crowd closer, tighter. The people shuffled half a step back, snarling before heads swiveled back to the chuckling figure of their former-entertainment. ”Ah course we’re gonna need a tribute or somethin’, to soothe our hurt feelin’s. So, you lot can start by emptyin’ your fuckin’ pocke--”

The hard, hearty laughter of Cerbozz, still languishing in his settee cut off the man. ”Kaa, haku uahloba! Haku doptleka! Bakopa, mah jiptace pateesa! Bakopa!”

As if in unison the various staff, waiters and waitresses in various degrees of jangling frizzy haired glory withdrew their own weapons and fired on their attackers. Several of the less drunken and a quite a bit more of the extremely drunken party guests did much the same, weaponry being produced from every available hiding place as the Black Suns, not quite expecting the reaction, rushed forward to subdue their targets.

Moonfire ducked low, diving down between the now battling invitees and crasher, blaster tucked in hand as she tossed away the mask, no time for such frivolities now. She had to find the data cylinder. Blast the rest of it!

Skimming the ballroom she reviewed her options as blasterfire and melee burst out all around her before heading, quickly, to the small doorway of the off-limits parts of the skypalace.

Stealing a glance over her shoulder Moonfire winced. Was that a gatling gun being rolled out to Cerbozz?

[Deleted]

Zexva had just finished drinking his champagne when Thel came up to him. Boredness oozed from every pore on his body when the man grabbed him. It was typical of cavemen to resort to violence when they weren't intelligent enough to handle things with eloquence. Years as an assassin had taught him a certain amount of tact, such as when he had retreated from his conversation with Novus before damaging things further. Perhaps his Master's personality had rubbed off on him a bit more than he had initially realized, it didn't matter because the moment this punk hit him, he won.

The fist collided with his cheek, and he took it knowing that this boy would be tossed out as long as he didn't retaliate, and that would simply be one less obstacle in his way. However the wall exploded behind him, and his golden eyes flared to life, almost glowing as he stared at the man before him. Every other sound was drowned out, he paid no heed to the men who had come through the wall, and were spouting some nonsense that he didn't care about. It was timed to well...This man had decided to strike him right as these men broke through the wall. Obviously he was a co conspirator, and that meant that he had put Moonfire in danger by blowing up a wall. He would deal with the others after he demolished the one in front of him.

His presence wasn't contained, it flared to life touching everyone in the vicinity as he reached to grab either side of Thel's face, and let every ounce of hatred that he felt come uncoiled. If he managed to grab the side of the mans face, lightning would explode from his fingertips, and he would just fry the mans face point blank, and leave him a crumpled mess on the floor. He had done so well to be civil with these people, these ingrates. However this was his last straw.

"I see the pup has fangs...Let me give you some advice boy..." he snarled at Thel as they were so close. "Rage without focus is useless." he sneered at the boy.

The arrogance, and condescending tone was practically palpable as he focused his entire being to fighting this man. If they wanted a fight then he would give them one that would haunt them for days to come. Zexva wasn't feeling particularly forgiving anymore, his dance had been interrupted, she decided to not heed his warning, and he was potentially going to miss out on getting that data cylinder. He had some issues to vent, and now he had a target that he didn't have to hold back against.

[Meira]

“Don’t shit your pants, Jordan.” Ylva said, bumping the underside of Io’an’s chin with a knuckle. “It’ll be fiiiiiine.”

Ylva turned away from him, following behind Thel and practically bouncing with every step. Between his obvious anger and her excitement, it was easy enough to move through the crowds. Everyone seemed more than willing to give them enough space to pass on by. “That’s right.” Ylva said as she moved behind Thel. “You’re a goddamn beast!”

She fell back when they passed by Jayec, grinning at the Mandalorian and gesturing toward Thel and the scene that was about to unfold with a jut of her chin. The man was like some kind of predator that had caught the scent of its prey and was closing in. Jayec was watching, of course, but not with the same enthusiasm as Ylva.

“Oh, there he goes. There he goes!” Ylva exclaimed as Thel dispensed with the stalking and cut a path straight toward the Zeltron. He grabbed the man, his arm rearing back. Ylva’s shouted “FUCK YEAH!” was drowned out by the blast that blew in the wall on the far side of the room. What the hell had caused that? Ylva remained standing while others ducked or ran. She grinned, laughing out loud and whooping at the sudden change of events until a very solid weight practically tackled her. That weight turned out to be Jayec, blasters already drawn as he dragged her down behind a table he’d overturned. Ylva continued laughing as she was plopped down, but promptly shut up as a voice shouted out over the crowd. Peaking around, she saw that it was the Zeltron MC. He brandished a gun and droned on. But it wasn’t long before Cerbozz cut him off and the blaster fire started.

Jayec shoved one of his blasters into her hands. He was saying something about armor, but the cacophony of the firefight drowned out most of his words. She turned, chancing a glance around the table until she spotted what he must have been talking about. Near the stage was a glass display case with some of the items that were up for bid that evening. Among them was a case, opened to display the set of supposed Mandalorian armor. She looked back toward Jayec, the humor showing on what was visible of her face. Leave it to a Mandalorian to maintain a Beskar boner in the middle of a shoot out. “Straight to the looting?” she asked over the blaster fire. “I like it!”

Ylva jumped up then, dashing sideways toward the auction items as she fired the borrowed blaster toward the breached wall. It was too bad she was contracting exclusively with Lidah. This cleanup would be a good haul. The thought brought an idea to Ylva’s mind. As she slid into some cover by the case of armor, Ylva fished her comm out and pinged Simone.

”You have to at least try to play nice with these people, boss.” Simone began, without preamble as he answered her call.

“Shut up Simone and listen!” Ylva said, dropping the blaster for a moment as she shoved the splayed out armor into the case and closed it up. Simone, hearing his boss’ tone as well as the sound of blaster fire, did as he was told. “The Black Suns crashed the party. Gonna need you to come pick me up.”

”Sure thing boss. I’m already on my way!” Simone replied.

“Hey, and call Remy. Have him bring one of the other vans. I’ll have company.”

[Rugs]

Io’an watched, feeling helpless, as Vance strode down the stairs toward Zexva. His presence lashed out, brimming with rage as he rolled his sleeves up and stalked toward his target, who’d separated from the girl.

Io’an started to hurry down the stairs, mind racing. Even as he focused on the dance floor brawl that was about to break out, he couldn’t help but ignore a crescendo of pressure in the back of his head. It felt like one of his stress headaches, but it wasn’t. It carried a certain buzzing that he’d learned over the years were his senses going absolutely crazy over some impending danger.

Thel and Zexva’s fight, while concerning, shouldn’t have been cause for that sort of warning.

“This is Io’an,” he said, switching his comm to the security channel. “I need three men with me. Dance floor. Everyone else be on alert. We believe the Black Sun are inbound.”

He pulled out his lightsaber--not yet igniting it--and began to run as Thel grabbed Zexva by the collar. He saw a fist meet a pale cheek and yelled wordlessly as a fireball blossomed over the dance floor.

---

“Yea, it is,” Locke said, trying to keep an eye on Moonfire as he turned to let Lidah get a look at what was going on with the girl and the Zeltron.

”Go if you need to.” Lidah said. Locke fought the urge to run over and force the two apart as they engaged in what looked like a terse conversation while dancing. Yet he remained, keeping up the mirage of his role with Lidah. They all had parts to play, and Locke was hesitant to break his in the absence of an absolute emergency.

“She’s capable,” he said, turning back to Lidah with a warm smile in case any eyes settled on them. “More than capable. If that boy thinks he can walk over her, he’s got another thing coming. You’d like her, in that regard, I think.” Though that didn’t account for the whole sticky situation of Moonfire being a Jedi and Lidah being an ex-Dark Lady of the Sith. Locke didn’t know what to make of that.

Nor did his assessment of Moonfire’s ability to handle the situation account for Vance stalking over toward her and the Zeltron as the duo separated That didn’t even account for Vance stalking over to Moonfire and that Zeltron.

“What is Thel doing?” he wondered aloud, turning to let Lidah see.

He heard Vance shout something about a moon before an explosion set his ears to ringing.

---

Blaster fire filled the air. The master of ceremonies cackled from the stage as Black Sun thugs poured in through a hole in the wall.

Io’an, momentarily dazed from the concussion of the blast, shook his head as he looked around. Debris littered the floor. Tables had been flipped over, both from the blast itself and from combatants looking to make makeshift cover from the hail of blaster fire zipping every which way.

He ducked as a shot nearly took his head off and lit his lavender lightsaber blade, looking for Thel and Z. They were still down where they were, grappling each other as the Zeltron put his hands on Thel’s head. A fight between two Force users was the last thing he needed in this already-volatile cocktail.

“Cancel what I said,” he said into his comm. “I’ll handle this issue myself. Protect as many people as you can and start organizing an evacuation.” He hurried the rest of the way down the stairs, blade flicking away shots that strayed toward him. “Secure the entrance. Make sure people can get there safely. Call me if there are problems.”

Io’an grasped the Force firmly, ignoring the momentary uneasiness that set into his stomach. With a wave of his hand, Io’an focused on the floor beneath Thel and Zexva. He began pushing the heat out of it and drawing the ambient moisture in the air toward it. Frost quickly began to coalesce on the ground beneath them and around them. It’d thicken to an ice slick of sorts. With luck, they’d fall to the ground and quit scuffling.

“Both of you stop this,” he yelled, blade glowing in hand as he stalked toward them.

---

Locke winced as a high-pitched ringing lingered in his ears. “What’s going on?” he asked Lidah, not realizing he was yelling at her.

They needed to get to cover. Where was Moonfire? Why did that Hutt have a gatling gun?

He fumbled around in his pockets. He found a small holdout blaster and withdrew it, searching for targets as they shuffled off of the dance floor and to cover. “I’ve got this,” he yelled over that damned ringing. “It’s kinda shitty though.”

Finding a corner, he pressed his back against it and tried to get his bearings. The Auction was gone to shit. He peeked around the corner and thought he saw Ylva making a dash for something. Force, she was a bold one. “Are these always like this?” he asked loudly.

“And since everything’s gone to shit, anything you wanna grab?”

[Neology]

”Would I now?” Lidah’s attention shifted back to Locke, meeting his eyes. Marking his hesitation, however short lived it was, with an inquisitive head tilt. Don’t let Jazen see that, darling. Even Vance, significantly more even-tempered, had never taken news of competing students very well. Still, it was a great relief to hear that if the Sith had left their abortive meeting in search of easier prey, he would not find it there. ”Do you think she'll talk to me? I need to be sure or this is going to drive me up the walls.” Something tangentially related finally dawned on her then, cracking a smile. Lidah snickered and traced her fingers from Locke’s shoulder to collar, followed down the lapel. Not a one-off, but exquisite tailoring nonetheless. ”You were going to be here anyway, weren’t you? I can’t believe you let me pay for this.” Thel? Lidah hadn’t paid him too much mind this evening. He’d gone off almost as soon as they arrived … Evidently in that young Jedi’s company. And he had spied on Lidah with her. While she was still processing that, the murderous storm cloud look on Vance’s face now was no less baffling. It didn't matter. There was a reason that he, out of all of them, wore his Force sensitivity on his sleeve. It left him free to respond to problems like this. Vance had trained to fight Sith with a fervor that nearly matched her paranoia in other areas. Lidah watched, fascinated, as her former apprentice struck the zeltron in the face, just barely registering Ylva’s formidable figure gesticulating wildly behind him. A massive sound caused a brief sensory whiteout – Lidah stumbled into her partner and let him hurry them out of the open. It seemed apt for the part he was playing. Everything really was shaking now, armed invaders pouring in through the hole they’d made. Black Sun. Her eyes followed Locke’s hand as he produced a small pistol from somewhere, the finer points lost in the chaos. ”Why did you bring a shitty gun? Why are you yelling?” Her ears hurt and Locke speaking at the top of his voice wasn’t helping. When he went on to talk over her, it clicked. Oh. Well … Lidah tried to sneak a glance out, staying low. Ms. Vuk was out there, perilously close to the Hutt’s stage and sweeping merchandise away for easy carrying. Lidah figured she’d be on the hook for that, somehow. If Cerbozz or his top henchmen managed to live through this. Speaking of henchmen, Io’an of all people had a burning lightsaber in his hand. The Jedi girl was nowhere to be seen. “Yeah, okay. Downstairs, to the vault.” Lidah let Locke go first, shitty hold out blaster and all, as she passed on directions. There was little fear of anyone noticing a bit of subtle telepathy now, with so much excitement going on. The vault was locked tight but unguarded, all available personnel called away. Lidah drew her commlink and her invitation out of her clutch. With a ‘wait’ motion to Locke, she dialed a contact. ”Heeey, Esse-tee. Before you start, your boy might need more backup – and I need your help breaking into the damned vault.” Some of the auction’s treasures would be upstairs, like the armor. The rest would be here, out of sight. Lost forever if the Black Sun diddled the security system, triggering a surge of plasma that would sterilize the room. Lidah and Memento, they had a shared responsibility to make sure that data cylinder got out there. The heavy door rolled inward and then away on its tread. Force, she’d almost forgotten that there were actual people up on the block tonight. Lidah strode in, frowning very slightly as she spoke into her phone. The caged animals were bad enough. ”Thanks, babe. Now, pair my invitation to these cages, would you? And uh, the collars too. I want to get all the biologicals out before any of those shitheads make it down here.”

[Fromikeable]

Vance's eyes glanced to the side at the approaching hand, feeling the Force pool and shiver in it. Surely enough, it crackled with energy, small bolts of lightning arching over the fingers as it zipped toward his head. At this range, he wouldn't be able to dodge; he didn't have the reflexes for it. He could have tried to catch it with his hand, perhaps trying to redirect it, or at the very least put the damage somewhere less lethal. He could have tried to snap his saber to life and bat the hand away, to maybe try and chop something off. He did neither, his hands pressing forward, ignoring the hand that came rushing into contact with his skin. Instantly, he felt his hairs there burn as electricity coursed between Zexva’s fingers, the feeling amplified by the Sith's prickly words.

"I see the pup has fangs...Let me give you some advice boy... Rage without focus is useless."

But as the electricity shot into Vance’s skin, it left no marks, burned no flesh, nor even caused him pain. Instead, it coursed across the side of his head, fading as quickly as it was produced. Within the Force, a distinct swirling could be felt, the energy bleeding into his presence instead of his form.His presence swelled with the sudden influx, charging akin to an inflating battery. With the punch, its rage had suddenly released, the first blow clearly satisfying Vance. Now it held strong and tight with sheer determination, growing with every bolt of electricity.

With Zexva so close, Vance's hands landed squarely on the man's chest, his palms outstretched. With a heavy gasp, he closed his eyes, his presence positively flaring as every bit of the energy it had just absorbed came rocketing out. A telekinetic blast made the air between them waver with sheer force, the shockwave directed toward Zexva not only barging at him like a runaway cruiser, but at the people behind him as well. Hutt servers and Black Sun mercenaries behind the Sith were launched from their feet skyward, some managing to hit the high ceiling, others screaming as they arched through the air and landed with hard crunches. The wave didn’t stop there, slamming into the far wall and charging on through. A massive hole was ripped into the structure, the night air beyond the sky palace coming rushing in only after a hail of metal and splinters was sent rushing out.

The knockback forced Vance to stumble backwards. When he found that the ground under him was ice, he slipped, his legs coming out from under him and crashing him onto his back.

Staring at the ceiling, the world came rushing back to him. The din of the auction from before had been replaced with what sounded like an all-out war. Gunfire zipped overhead, glass panes shattered, people cried out in pain and rage and command, and through it all, Vance could hear the hum of a lightsaber. Sitting up as best he could and being sure to retain his own, Vance turned to see Io'an marching toward them, his demand simple.

“Both of you stop this.”

"NO!" Vance's yell back was less angry and more certain, striking an odd sort of unshakeable quality that his voice typically lacked. Pulling himself up onto a knee, Vance tested the ice a bit, debating trying to get up on his feet again.

"Not until 'Mr. Boredom' here takes a long walk off a short cliff!" Vance didn't care if the man left alive or dead. He just wanted him gone.

[CaptainBonkers]

What the hell is she doing? From behind the cover of the overturned table the Zabrak darted towards the showcase items, howling something about looting. However, as much as he wanted to protest her bolting off, Jayec had more pressing concerns to attend to. Like the sound of damned gatling gun being fired. That turned out to be less of a problem and more of a blessing; it wasn't the Black Suns firing the big fucking gun. It was Cerobzz the Hutt firing the damn gatling gun at the thugs crashing the slugs party, spewing blaster fire left and right seemingly with a healthy amount of murderous glee. 

Usually, Jayec wasn't the greatest fan of the giant slugs but Cerbozz had just earned some of his goodwill. Both because that gun of his was dope and because the slug was drawing most of the thugs attention away from the other guests. Gatling guns were kind of hard to ignore, especially when they were firing at you. The double distraction of a howling gatling gun and Ylva bolting out of cover left most of the thugs unaware of Jayec's presence. Most of them might even think that Ylva had been alone behind the table. Whatever the case was, the blasterfire directed at Jayec's location whittled down and redirected to other targets. That wasn't right, thugs ignoring the most dangerous person in the building just because they were being drown in blaster fire from an overgrown slug's gatling gun. It was rude, really.

A quick peek around the table showed that three thugs were still keeping an eye at the table, though none of them was currently firing at it actively. They seemed kind of distracted by the lightning show going on in the dance floor between Thel and the Zeltron, though were still trying to ensure that no one armed was hiding behind the table. Jayec assessed their equipment with an experienced eye and a wide smile spread on his face. They were well armed, alright, but they had come prepared to mow down unarmored guests and lightly armored security guards, not beskar clad Mandalorians. The light repeaters carried by them fired fast and chewed through evening gowns and dinner jackets in an instant but against beskar'gam they were next to worthless. Theoretically the thugs had a chance to punch through his armor but that would require them to land five or so consecutive hits on the exact same spot inside of three seconds which, thanks to the recoil of that model, was all but impossible without cybernetic limbs with recoil dampeners. This was going to be fun.

Jayec stood up from behind the table, fixing the gaze of his t-visor on the three thugs aiming at the table. To their credit the thugs reacted better than some other people when confronted by a Mandalorian warrior in full armor. For one neither of them pissed themselves at the sight of him, though one of them did vocalize the feeling they were almost certainly sharing at the moment. A very poignant 'fuck' escaped from the lips of a twi'lek male in a light armor decorated with green Black Sun emblems. A semi panicked burst of blaster fire followed the words. Even though Jayec had been waiting the impacts he was still slightly staggered by the bolts hitting his beskar clad torso. He recovered quickly, though.

"Hello lads. Care for a dance?" he couldn't resist the temptation to make some stupid remark before springing forwards.

The first thug on his way was easily dispatched. Scarcely recovered from the shock of seeing someone walk through a hail of blaster fire with only slightly signed paintjob as the only damage taken the thug's gun wasn't pointing in the right direction when Jayec reached him. The Mandalorian snatched the repeater's barrel, twisting it away from himself and towards one of the thug's mates. Predictably enough the bloke reflexively pulled the trigger, sending a burst into his comrade's chest. The third thug let out an angry shout and aimed his blaster at Jayec. However, before the party crasher had a chance to fire at him, Jayec used his hold on his opponent's blaster barrel to leverage him in front of him as a meat shield. As the bolts of plasma sunk into unfortunate goon's chest, Jayec simply lifted his own repeater and unleashed a single burst right into the last living bastard's head, giving the nikto a number of new nostrils.

With the immediate threat taken care of and miss Faine out of his immediate sight range, Jayec decided that going after Ylva was the best option. Hopefully seeing a Mandalorian and a Zabrak looting the shit out of the place would draw enough attention to give Faine and others room to maneuver. 

"Dammit woman!" he growled, catching up to Ylva few moments later. "Next time maybe give me a heads up before you bolt off." he wasn't particularly angry merely worried since she wasn't wearing any armor unless one counted the brass balls the size bolo balls. "So, what are we looting from here? If we're gonna do this, we might as well do it properly; I ain't going home empty handed."

[Moonfire]

Somewhere, hidden away in a rooftop slicer liar…

Qiki licked the brilliant orange dust from her fingertips, knees tucked close to her chest as she swiveled back and forth rhythmlessly, eyes skimming the haphazard collection of monitors. Diving back into her snack bag the young woman plucked a ridged triangle, nibbling at the corners as the party unfolded before her, a safe distance away. Reflex’s fingers tapped angrily at his controller between flicks of his thumb at the headset, scrolling through intercepted comm-channels as he tried to pwn some brat from Naboo at swoop-bike racing.

Qiki fucking hated parties. Hated having to get dressed up for a bunch of assholes to leer at her while they pretended they were more than the same guttertrash she was. Everyone on Nar Shaddaa was cut from the same cloth, native or not. But Void-damn, it was fun watching them.

“Look at these motherfuckers.” She commented to no one in particular, the handful of others in their little den busily working on other projects or trying to maintain high scores in their video game of choice. Orange tipped fingers gestured to the gyrating of the moon’s financial and social elite. “So fancy. Much wow.”

One monitor flicked back and forth between various private rooms, another rotated between different views of the ballroom, virtually the entire skypalace was presented for Qiki’s viewing pleasure. Better than any sitcom back on Coruscant by far. The number of people stealthily trying to-- Wait a second.

Her eyes flicked to one of the sidelong monitors, displaying not the various shenanigans of Cerbozz’s party and instead focusing close on the latest episode of Ghost Boarding School. The leading gentleman, a man nearly pushing fourty but definitely hovering somewhere in universe as seventeen, had pulled his co-lead close, whispering something about her demise. “The fuck?” Scooting closer she watched him hitch the waifish umbaran closer, the long awaited kiss since their dramatic breakup finally be--

A loud ringing buzzed in Qiki’s ear, the buzz of an electronic remix to some beloved Imperial pop song tauntingly holding back the drop of the bass, groaning she flicked a finger back to her ear, eyes stilled trained on the holo-drama. “Hey, girl, hey.”

”Heeey, Esse-tee. Before you start, your boy might need more backup – and I need your help breaking into the damned vault.”

Shaking her head Qiki turned back to the monitors. All hell had broken loose, people bashing each other in the face as Reflex could be heard, controller abandoned, shouting orders into various comm’s behind her. Looking back at Reflex with an expression that could only read as ‘get-your-shit-together’, she turned back to the monitors, pulling her datapad close. “Totes handled on my end here, sendin’ my best gun to help out Yo-Yo.”

One quick series of taps and the infamous purple ranger was on her way to save their boy. Head swiveling back to screech a few orders at Reflex about getting Io’an out of a ‘shit-sitch’ before directing her brash voice back to Lidah. “Now, let’s help you steal some cool ass shit, yeah?”

Leaning closer the woman’s eyes skimmed across the scene. A Mandalorian was taking dudes down by the fistfulls, a Zabrak slamming against one of the display cases seemed intent on looting and Io’an was invited two brawling dudes to join him in a little ice-skating. Now Qiki was really sad she was missing the party.

At least she was until a series of tri-pedal droids walked out of the blasted hole in Cerbozz’s wall, flinging his guards and servants left and right between volleys of their own laser-guns. Ho-shit.

Turning back to her favorite sneak-snonk’s activities Qiki nodded along, a few quick commands later and Lidah’s invitation would easily unlock the vault and after a very pleasant request, the animals and slaves collars as well. They’d be free to leave without anyone’s brain-stems exploding, tonight at least.

The shift of another figure, unmasked and with a pile of dark hair beginning to loose behind her, seemed to slip behind Lidah and her swarthy companion, catching Qiki’s watchful eye. “Hey, Li-li, you got company. She’s armed.”

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

Turning under and behind a upturned table Moonfire kept her head down, avoiding the blasterfire and fisticuffs as best she could. Worry and anxiety gurgled in the back of her throat like acid as instinct propelled her forward. Her hands threatened to shake as breathing held firm.

She’d trained for this after all. It wasn’t easy though, weaving through a bustling crowd intent on not only attacking Black Suns, but also hashing out old grudges. New grudges in some cases. A glance over her shoulder showed the two force-users being intercepted by someone, Io’an(?), with a pale purple saber, Thel prone but still quite active. Shouting even.

Thel was capable, a former Jedi by his own veiled admission, he could handle himself. Zexva… Well, being Sith had to teach you more than a few tricks, right? She’d come back after she had the data-cylinder.

Shaking her head she watched as the vault door slid open, the view of who had such a privilege quickly obscured by the brutish figure of a Black Suns operative. A hand extended for Moonfire’s purse, a grin seen beneath the much larger man’s helmet as he attempted to go for the mousey young woman’s arm with his other.

Twisting hard her back pressed firmly into his chest, the Force imbuing her motions as she deftly lifted and tossed the man over her shoulder and to the ground. Two stun-bolts to the chest ensuring he’d stay there. See? Capable.

Taking in two deep breaths the woman slinked back to her mission, avoiding any further confrontations despite the now much louder noises of commotion behind her. Two steps into the open vault later and she was confronted by the sight of her mentor and the enigmatic force-user he’d seemed to be protecting.

Her eyes first went to Locke’s before pointedly turning away, a desperation to appear nearly casual before locking with Lidah’s. Moonfire could feel her heart stop, a firm dropping of her stomach as her erratic pulse drowned out the muffled firefight behind them. With another flick of blue she saw it.

The data cylinder. The blaster hand lifted up, open palms extending in a silent bid to appear harmless. “It’s a b-b-bit hectic out there, huh?”

[Deleted]

That was an interesting ability that the pup had just demonstrated. Usually someone would be a charred husk right now, but he had managed to completely negate the damage. That was something he would have to look into as that ability could be very useful to him, and his particular line of work. Then he felt the next attack coming, it wasn't something he would be able to dodge, but he had a tactic that he had used against his master once. When he was weaker...Using his own telekinetic push he buffered the wave around him using the force from his own push to prevent him from taking the brunt of the attack. Still he was shoved several feet back painfully. Readying himself to retaliate he found himself slipping to the floor on his backside looking up at Io'an.

Sighing a bit as the man he had previously threatened asked them stop, and he held up his hands. Frustration, and a bit of anger evident in his face, but anyone that could sense the force would be able to feel how livid he was. Righting himself up he moved away from the ice slick carefully.

"I didn't start this...I was playing by your rules Io'an, until this mongrel attacked me." he said simply his voice cold, and mechanical.

The more time he wasted here, that meant the more time for someone else to secure what he was after. He wanted that Data Cylinder, but quite literally everything, and everyone was in his way at this moment. Any intelligent person would have taken advantage of the chaos to go down to where the items were, and break in. If he didn't have everyone on his back, it is what he would have done, sighing he tried to think of a way out of his current predicament. There were new intruders that were causing to much of a fuss, and he looked at Io'an completely disregarding the boy.

"I'll make you a deal...I'll get rid of the guys that came in through the wall, you can evacuate the civilians in the meantime, and this child on the floor beneath me, so he stops getting in my way. But you owe me one...I kept my word to follow your rules, besides there is something here I wish to protect." he looked at Io'an simply.

He was a bred killer after all, dispatching some random idiots who had the mind to bring a gattling gun to a saber fight would be easy. He wouldn't get the Data Cylinder he knew that much by now, but there was something else there that would be just as valuable to him, and it would be a fitting consolation prize. Reaching out his mind barely touched Io'ans, and he would hear these words like a whisper.

"I want the Sith Holocron...That will be suitable enough payment for what I am about to do for you." he said nothing more.

He had hoped Io'an wouldn't be stupid, he was offering aid after all, for the so called greater good whatever that meant. There was such a thing as tact, and he knew that Io'an had it, if they had negotiate further payment for the Holocron he would gladly, but right now he really needed to vent, and he had many targets. Reaching into his jacket pocket he got his twin lightsabers, and activated them. One golden like his masters, and one red like the color he use to be.

The power he wielded next was one that he had been perfecting since he was a child, but magnified. With his new power he could affect the minds of many at once. He didn't know how many more of these black sun goons there would be, but he could take out what was in front of him. He struck them mentally, fast, and hard. Forcing the horror of their lives to overtake them all at once as they began to panic, and they entered a crazed state of fear. While they weren't thinking clearly he struck them down cleanly planting his light sabers into their vitals, and killing them.

They had endangered Moonfire, his dance had been cut short by some stupid squabble, he had been punched, and now he wasn't going to be able to get what he was after. Remorse was the last thing on his mind in this instant.

[Rugs]

Telepathy. Right. How could he have forgotten?

“The vault! Right,” he answered. He was perhaps mind-shouting a bit louder at Lidah than he needed to, but that was simply because it amused him after her ‘why are you yelling?’ from a few moments ago.

Locke struck a dramatic pose, hand pistol up and ready at his chest as he leaned to peek around the corner — like something from a bad action holo — and led the way. The good thing about the chaos was that the odds of anyone paying attention to them individually was low. The bad thing was that he had to occasionally duck stray bits of blaster fire.

Still, they made it to the great, heavy vault doors with little fanfare and Locke waited while Lidah called someone — who was ‘Esse-tee?’ — to get the doors open. The ringing, at least, was beginning to subside.

“I can almost hear like a normal person again,” Locke said, picking at one of his ears. “Force, remind me not to stand near any damned explosions again anytime soon.”

The door began to move, sliding open with a quiet groan as it rumbled heavily along its track. Locke wondered for a moment what it might do to someone’s toes if they got caught in the path before his focus instead drew him to the matter at hand.

He stepped inside while Lidah spoke to her contact to secure ownership of the animals and people — Locke’s lips pressed to a line and he swallowed at that thought. Best to stick to the script. Tyrvast wouldn’t have a problem with it.

Besides, despite whatever anyone thought of the Exchange, Lidah Faine was no crazed woman who saw herself as a tyrant atop some throne. Better her get these people than some of the others, at the party. Force only knew what Cerbozz himself would do to them.

Footsteps padding on the floor behind them--he really could hear again, it seemed--drew Locke to swivel on his feet, pistol gripped in both hands, but not up.

He found himself staring at Moonfire. Of all people.

Dammit Mooney, he thought. But he wasn’t mad at her. Quite the contrary — he was proud to see her performing so admirably in such a chaotic situation.

He was less thrilled that it thrust them both into such an awkward situation. How much do you know?

“It is,” he said, keeping Tyrvast’s accent. As he motioned for her to stay put. “Didn’t think anyone else would notice the doors openin’ up, in fact.”

Caught between his love and his ward-of-sorts, Locke for once, found himself completely unsure of what to do.

”Stay calm,” he said to Mooney telepathically. “She’s a friend. Trust me.”

---

Io’an was relieved to see both combatants on the ground, even if it had did come at the expense of Thel blowing out the wall. Force, is he that powerful? Io’an looked at his hand, lightsaber blazing in it. He felt insignificant by comparison.

And you... he looked at Zexva. The Zeltron was no slouch, to fight off something of the magnitued Thel had thrown at him. Could he really stop either if they resisted.

Thel, at least, seemed adamant on grinding Zexva’s head into the wall. Io’an frowned severely at him, but Zexva interjected before the Sephi could say anything more.

“My rules?” he wondered aloud, irritated. His mind raced, back to that night when the Zeltron accosted him to demand an invitation. He’d said nothing about starting a fight.

“You cause trouble at the Auction and I’ll deal with you myself,” he’d said. And he doubted Thel was punching the Zeltron in the face for no reason.

Still, Zexva talked, offering a deal of some sort. Io’an snorted through his nose. In a different place and time, he might leave Thel to deal with Zexva and turn an eye to whatever happened. But he couldn’t let that fight spiral too out of control here, not with so many left to possibly be caught in the crossfire.

He recoiled mentally--and physically, slightly, when he felt Zexva make contact with his mind. The Zeltron’s presence was dark, cold. Repulsive. Io’an retreated in the Force, closing himself off as much as he could after the Zeltron spoke

“You want that holocron, get it yourself,” he said aloud. “I’m not helping you.”

Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. Security and distributing invitations fell under his purview. Granting the Auction’s items did not.

Zexva at least turned his attention to the Black Sun goons near them. That was a relief. It was better than fighting Vance on the dance floor while a battle raged all around them.

Io’an turned to Thel and offered a hand. The ice melted away from the floor at his prodding through the Force “I really wish you hadn’t done that,” he muttered. “I don’t like the guy either, but there’s a better wa-”

A thud behind him cut his words short. He turned around just in time to flick a blaster bolt away as one of the big, tripedal droids lumbered toward Thel and himself. Io’an grit his teeth, aggravated. “I’m getting tired of this,” he growled at Vance, setting into a Form V stance as he droid’s guns warmed up to fire.

[Neology]

”Understood.” Lidah fought the urge to turn around and have a look. She. Well, it was obviously not the Sith then, or Vance. And with coincidence and Jedi so often hand in hand, she had a feeling she could guess who it was. ”Thanks. I owe you one.” Lidah hung up on Qiki and strolled forward into the center of the vault. The sounds of the battle above were strangely muffled in this place, as were the tremors. Cerbozz had not scrimped on the vault’s installation, then. As she watched, the howlrunner paced within the force cage. It brushed a muscular shoulder against the field on every turn, opening shallow weeping sores. It could not have been captured more than a week or two ago, she thought, to not have learned better by now. The young varactyl was less alarming save for the very unusual pigmentation of its scales, about the size of a common house cat. A meter long velvet leash was all the restraint needed for the half-tame herbivore. As for Cerbozz’s slaves … Lidah flicked her gaze to them. Only two, male and female, and garbed in rather elastic looking glittery outfits. She had almost no interest in speculating why they were dressed that way. She approached with invitation in hand. ”Hi. Hello. Auction’s canceled, so I’ll be stealing you now. I guess.” The invitation’s interactive surface stung the meat of her palm, sampling and confirming Lidah’s genetic identity as she navigated half a dozen cautionary dialogue prompts on the tiny screen. One slave collar released harmlessly, rattling on the marble floor. Then the other. ”All done. You’re free. Shoo.” Dumbfounded, the pair stared at Lidah before falling into hushed conversation with each other. Lidah glanced over at the two Jedi, meeting the young woman’s eyes for a single awkward moment. Shit. The data cylinder. In reality that thing was only a cleverly disguised trap, though not inherently a dangerous one. Why was the Order after Memento? Getting those kind of answers out of Locke had to be an intensely private affair, if it could be done at all. Of course, even making the attempt would reveal her interest in the infamous slicer in turn. No time for that. She turned her most ingratiating smile on the pit fighter and the dancer. ”Your former master’s kajidic may not see it that way come tomorrow, of course. I recommend leaving Hutt space as soon as you can. Or, failing that, working for someone that can shield you from them.” Lidah produced a slim business card from seemingly nowhere, sleight of hand that she’d picked up from Locke over the years in bits and pieces. The card itself was a clear plastic rectangle, three millimeters thick. It bore the Compeer’s personal insignia: a severe, pupiless eye and a large millaflower picked out in glowing neon green. Lidah handed it to the echani woman and backed away. The varactyl she just scooped up. It arranged itself in her arms and returned immediately to its nap. The howlrunner required something more. Dropping her concealment for a moment, Lidah took hold of the animal’s agitated mind. It calmed immediately, very still except for its breathing. She switched off the force screen and rested her fingertips against the creature’s wet nose. ”Good boy.” She whispered. The floor shuddered again, a rough one this time. ”Shuttle pad, Tyrvast. We need to go now.”

[Fromikeable]

Vance had to try hard not to yell. Zexva didn't start this? What did he call blowing Lidah's cover? What did he call the waves of discomfort that had rolled off of Iris during their dance? He'd started this and then some, and the way Vance saw it, he was just returning the favor. Personal reasoning aside, it didn't really made what Zexva had done. A Sith at the Blind Auction must have had an agenda, and Vance could see few ways for it to work out in the Exchange's favor.

Beyond all that, any day that include punching a smug, holier-than-thou Sith shit was a good day indeed.

With that said, the Sith seemed to be ignoring him, directing all attention to Io'an. When he called the Grey by name, Vance's brows shot up a smidge, glancing between the two with surprise as he tested the ice again. They knew each other? Judging by Io'an's frosty reception, Vance guessed that it was more of the same. Perhaps they'd struck a bad deal to make Io'an get the Zeltron into the party? Perhaps the timid guy just hadn't wanted to stop him.

No, that didn't sound right. Io'an didn't like fighting, but Vance would never call him a coward.

Shooting the Sith one last look as he lit his sabers and jumped into the fighting crowds, Vance took the hand offered to him by Io'an. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt through what little rage remained in his presence. In light of the Black Suns invading, his and Zexva's fight hadn't caused that much damage, but if they hadn't shown up, who was to say just how difficult they would have made poor Io'an's night become?

Opening his mouth to respond, Vance was cut off by the same thud Io'an was. Turning, Vance's saber finally hissed to life as the giant droid approached, its guns already beginning to glow.

"You get used to it after a while." The droid unloaded at them both. Lowering into a Soresu stance, Vance's green saber moved in concentrated, short flicks, his wrist doing all the work. After a few seconds, the both of them stood tall while the droid's guns ran dry, still glowing. As the bot moved to reload itself, Vance was already jutting out a hand, summoning the Force to pull the droid forward. It went flying off of its legs almost immediately, heading at them top-first.

It only took Vance holding his saber steady at the right angle to carve the machine in half, the two heavy pieces going flying off into the crowds behind them.

"Look, I'm sorry. Call me later, we'll get some lunch and I'll explain." Vance's presence was already shooting out as he spoke, spreading over the palace, on the hunt. With the Sith distracted, his priorities became abundantly clear; get everyone and get out. As if to solidify that point, the entire palace lurched, the power flickering.

"If you need a ride, meet us at the shuttle pads." This was a fight between the Black Suns and the Hutts. The Exchange had no part to play until the dust cleared. Refocusing his search, Vance's attention was caught by Lidah's presence flaring out of hiding for a moment, evidently impressing upon some other creature. Honing in, the color drained from his face as his presence licked over the vault. The other, hidden presence must have been Locke, but the Force-user that stood before them, her presence electric with panic?

Oh dear Force, please no. Starting to sprint in that direction, he hoped beyond hope that Lidah had believed his earlier explanation, brief as it had been.

[Meira]

Co-written with CaptainBonkers

---

She’d just gotten the armor packed away into its case when Jayec was beside her again. Ylva turned, grinning at the Mandalorian. She’d all but put a pretty bow on the armor for him. And honestly, if he waited until they got to the vans, she was sure she could do that too. But as she turned, Jayec barked his frustration at her. Ylva, confused, began to adjust her wolf mask which had dislodged slightly in the mayhem. After a moment, she pulled it completely off and tossed it to the side.

“The fuck you mean?” she shouted back over the noise. “You said get the armor!”

Jayec glared at Ylva, though with his helmet on it wasn’t particularly obvious to anyone without extensive experience in interpreting Mandalorian body language. “I said nothing about a fucking armor, you damn lush!” he barked loudly through the cacophony of fighting. “I said ARM YOURSELF, dammit. Look, it doesn’t even matter no more.”

The situation had changed so far out of what was expected and he had no idea where Lidah was. Hopefully she was safe but since there was a distinct possibility that she might get done in by these bastards, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to do some looting as a way to mitigate the financial setback.

“Fuck it.” he said, though more to himself than to Ylva. “This evening has gotten out of hand and there’s a non-zero chance that we will both be without a meal ticket by the end of it. So let's just loot the shit out of this stuff and then try to round up others.”

Ylva blinked. For a moment, she did not move or speak. And then she laughed. She doubled over, her weight falling onto the case that contained the armor as her whole body shook. When she lifted back up again, she had to duck to the side as a blaster shot flew past them. “Arm yourself!” she echoed, still laughing. Now that would be one to tell the boys later.

Behind Jayec, a leg appeared from the other side of what remained of the display case. Ylva reacted quickly, her hand grabbing Jayec’s shoulder as leverage to heave herself upward and toward the Black Sun thug. She was able to grab the blaster rifle as it turned toward them, pulling it away from the man and pushing Jayec’s borrowed blaster into his face as she pulled him off balance. The shot burned through the man’s eye and he dropped to the ground. Ylva followed the man down, quickly flipping him over and pulling off the light armored vest he wore. The man was tall and broad, so the vest would fit her easily.

“Here.” she said, handing Jayec his blaster back and taking up the rifle from the dead man. She patted the armored vest and held up the rifle. “Better?” she asked, but her grin belied the sarcasm behind the question.

“You have a line to Faine?” she asked, looking around their meager cover and spotting a number of tri-pedal droids now moving through the wall. “Simone and Remy are on their way with some vans.”

“Not at the moment. I’m guessing she’s busy with these mir’osike.” Jayec replied ponderously. She had been after the data cylinder though, right? That meant that she would be trying to get to the secure storage area where the more valuable items were kept until bought out for the auction.

“Likely she is heading for the cylinder she came here for. Can’t see her just bolting it without it.” What with her being a damndar’ori’dar’jetii... No! Bad brain! You didn’t hear a thing!

Ylva nodded. “Alright, we go to her.”

The problem with that plan, however, was how they’d get past those droids. Luckily, a good number of them were currently engaged with Cerbozz’s security and guests. What’s more, Ylva caught the glow of a lightsaber out of the corner of her eye. At first, she thought it was Thel, but the color was wrong. Turning her head, Ylva’s jaw dropped as she saw who wielded the pale purple blade.

“I see you, Hogan.” she said to herself with a smile. “You get some!”

A shot ricocheted off the corner of cover she was peering around and Ylva flopped back, her mind back to the tasks and dangers at hand. Moving over to Jayec, Ylva turned the armor case over, finding the seam and pressing to release the coiled up shoulder straps. She slung the case over her shoulders and pulled the straps tight. It was heavy, but Ylva could handle it.

“Ready to move?”

Jayec nodded and grabbed his pistol. With it in his left hand and his light repeater in the other, he begun moving towards the direction of the secure storage. As he did so, he did his best to serve as a mobile cover for Ylva while the two of them were out of cover. She might have found an armor vest that fit her formidable figure but compared to Jayec’s beskar’gam she might as well have been wearing lingerie. Mind you, some Mandalorian tailors did sell undergarments that were basically light armor. Fairly popular among the younger generations at the moment, apparently.

While wielding two guns at the same time was hardly his forte, Jayec did not have to worry about missing targets at the moment. He was almost as good a shot with his left hand as he was with his right and with the repeater he didn’t really have to have an accurate aim. All he needed to do was to get the bursts within the general area of the target’s torso and that was it for the bastard. So, with two blazing guns in his hands, he mowed a number of Black Sun goons down as they advanced towards the assumed location of Lidah. Until the fucking droid appeared on their way.

Ylva moved behind Jayec as he began to plow through the attacking Black Suns thugs. She let him deal with what was ahead of them and did her best to discourage any survivors of his wrath from attacking to their sides or from behind. It was while she was turned, one hand making a crude gesture to one such thugs as he died, that a droid blocked their path.

As Jayec halted, Ylva stepped backward, colliding with him slightly. Turning, Ylva’s eyes tracked upward to where the droid’s head was. The droid was turning toward them, bringing heavy blasters to bear.

“Shit!” Ylva exclaimed as she spun around Jayec, finding cover behind a thick pillar.

The droid’s blasters could cause some serious damage even to Jayec’s armor and they would absolutely shred through Ylva. Hiding behind the pillar might have bought her some time but if the droid was given the chance, its blasters would gnaw through the decorative rock it was made of. It did seem, though, as if there was a bit of a blind spot in the droid’s armament. With joints like that, there was no way it could fire at something tackling it. With no better idea at hand, Jayec charged at the clanker without thinking it any further.

Ylva chanced a peek around the pillar just in time to see the Mandalorian’s charge. Her eyes went wide, not believing that Jayec, of all people, would do something so brash. That was usually her thing. Not one to be outdone, Ylva swung around the other side of the pillar, circling the droid as it’s two arms swung inward to intercept the distracting armored man. She had to duck as the droid pulled one arm back and then swung back forward in a wide arc at Jayec. It’s other arm, sporting a wicked pincer looking hand was attempting to get a grip on one of his appendages. She was sure that, armor or not, Jayec would find himself one limb short after the encounter if something didn’t change. So Ylva changed things.

“Let go of him you rusty piece of shit!” she shouted as she jumped onto the back of the droid.

The tripod legs stumbled slightly as the droid’s servos compensated for Ylva’s wild thrashing. The droid’s arms flung about wildly as it tried to pluck her off, but none of its appendages could bend properly to grab her. Resorting to throwing her off, the droid began to buck and move about wildly. Ylva hung on as best she could with her legs and one hand as she attempted to bring her blaster to bear. If she could just get the rifle aimed down the neck of the droid, she could hit the inner workings that were otherwise guarded by the droid’s armor plating. The rifle was difficult to wield one handed, however and it almost went flying from her hand several times before she could lodge it in between the neck plating and fire several rounds directly down into the droid.

The droid froze as the shots wreaked havoc on its insides, then collapsed suddenly. Ylva stumbled from the new pile of scrap, catching herself on Jayec to stop from falling completely to the ground as well. Grinning up at the man, Ylva straightened, then suddenly grabbed him by the helmet and pulled him close, planting a kiss just to the side of his T visor. Her lipstick left a perfectly clear stamp of the kiss on his helmet as she released him, laughing like a mad woman. Then the whole sky palace lurched and Ylva careened sideways.

”Uhhh, boss?” came Simone’s voice on Ylva’s comm. ”The palace is tilting…

Of course the palace was getting all kinds of fucked up with all this fighting going on. As if getting roughed up by the damned droid hadn’t been enough. Charging at the damn thing hadn’t been a good idea, although it hadn’t been a total waste considering Ylva’s reaction afterwards. It seemed that alcohol and adrenaline worked wonders for her, though Jayec really should have expected as much. This was merely the first time he had been in a real fight with her while she was drunk, or at least tipsy. Weren’t Zabraks supposed to be good at drinking with their extra livers or something? How much had she drunk?

Oh, yes, the palace crashing down or at least veering seriously off course. Time to get the hell out of here. Why the hell had he not taken his jetpack with him to this? Oh, right. The security got skittish around AT-missiles and flamethrowers, bunch of pansies. Without it on his back, though, the only way off this thing was making it to the shuttle pad and hoping that Ylva’s boys were there to pick them up or alternatively commandeer (read steal and hotwire) someone else’s transportation

“You know, we wouldn’t be crashing like this if the hosts weren’t so squeamish about letting guests bring in better guns. Or hired vode for security instead of just hauling some thugs of the street and handing them peashooters.” he stated. “Well, we’d better hurry before this place gets any more vertical. I’d hate to end this evening on a sour note by dying.”

[Moonfire]

In training there are rather few moments that make one feel like a paralope in a trap. In practice, it was becoming far more common than Moonfire liked. Tyrvast’s gun made her heart thunder, a deep psychological response despite the gentle push of Locke’s mind to hers, her own blaster still loose and casual in hand as she reached slightly higher for the sky. “There was an item my employer has a particular interest. Thought I’d ensure it was safe for Cerbozz and send him more than adequate payment later.”

She debated including a line about paying of Tyrvast, but it all felt very heavy handed speaking alias to alias. Locke would, hopefully, let her through no matter what she’d did. A brief moment of eye contact with Novus, painfully awkward eye contact at that, and Moonfire had neglected to burst into flames.

That was a good sign.

Whatever staring Moonfire might have wanted to indulge in after Novus’ icy gaze slid away was abruptly cut off by the sudden hard tilt of the skypalace. Frictionless flats scrabbled for purchase as a hand quickly found purchase.

Blasterfire intermingled with the cries of the raucous auction go-ers in the background as Moonfire, half draped over a clear plasti-glass box, realized Novus was offering the newly released slaves work. Quickly though her attention fell onto the contents of the box she clung to, and the little information bank roughly the size and shape of a Wookie’s lightsaber hilt.

Blue eyes cut back up to Locke and Lidah’s, shoulders lifting in a shrug as a hand outstretched to pluck the data-cylinder from it’s mount. “I’ll just-- Uh, take care of this, yep.” The woman muttered lamely, tucking it right beside her own lightsaber hilt in the purse at her side.

Another warning lunge of the skypalace, the floor at a definite incline, told Mooney it was time for her to leave as well. Giving Locke another questioning look the woman slipped out behind them, blaster low but still quite in hand as hurried steps quickly became a mad dash towards the shuttlepad.

Along the way a familiar mop of dark curls and towering stature seemed intent on barreling towards them. Thel.

“Time to go, time to go!” Moonfire couldn’t help but shout, pointing towards the exit as the more sane guests flooded the doorway in a hail of Cerbozz’s gatling gun fire. “Time to go!”

[Deleted]

The amount of chaos around him, reminded him of his time on Felucia. During that part of his training he had been forced to survive the harsh place with no aid. Cutting down thug after thug made him feel great, it invigorated him, but he realized that all to soon this place was coming down. If he wanted his consolation prize, he would have to get it now. Allowing the force to guide him to his destination, he made his way down to the Vault. It was unfortunate that Io'an wouldn't help him, or he couldn't it. Either way he had refused to aid him. A stubborn set to his jaw as he discarded his mask, revealing the large scar over the right side of his face.

Flinging himself over the crowd he made his way down to where the vault would be. There were so many presences down there, and he realized that he might to contend with them. This had the potential to go horribly wrong, fighting Novus, and her dogs would not end favorably for him. Moonfire, and the pup had escaped already, or where in the process of doing that, so he at least didn't have to deal with them. Which left two potential enemies for him to deal with, if they decided to try, and stop him. Deactivating his red saber he finally reached the vault, where he saw his prize. It wasn't the data cylinder that he was originally after, but it would do. Reaching out he grasped the Holocron with the force, and willed it to his fingers.

Seizing the hectic moments that were all around him he didn't wait around after he got it, and he forced his body to move. Keeping his golden saber lit up as he wove through the crowd. He had his consolation prize, this would be enough for now, especially once he learned the secrets that it held. If this knowledge would make him more powerful, then it would prove to be more useful than what he was originally after. Worst case scenario he didn't learn anything new, but still recovered something that belonged to the Sith. It was worth the entire night of disappointment that he had to suffer at the hands of the others.

When he made it outside he didn't stop moving. He was already working on getting off of this planet, and his informant, Wuggitu, had been paid handsomely to ensure he got to where he wanted to go. It was time to return to Korriban, and greet Master Aurelius. No doubt his master would want to know what he had done.

I wonder what he will say about this...

[Fromikeable]

Vance could practically taste his heart suspended on the back of his tongue as he ran. Iron-like and stinging, he tried his best to keep his throat relaxed as he ran. Letting it contract in a panic wasn’t about to help him run, and he needed to be in that vault yesterday. It didn’t matter if Lidah and Iris didn’t fight. That wasn’t the danger.

What they might say to one another threatened to screw Vance in a way he’d never been screwed before.

The palace had other ideas. As the floor began to list, Vance found himself running along an increasing incline. Shudders could be felt rocking the building’s frame as the giant repulsors below whined with increasing volume. Stressed power couplings, if Vance were to guess from the sound alone. Bad news on any engine, let alone one that was suspending a ten-story structure in the Nar Shaddaan sky.

All of that nearly distracted Vance from the Sith beating him to the vault, causing his hairs to stand on end. If that guy hadn’t gotten the message, then so help him Force, this time he woul-

”Time to go!” Vance saw Iris before he heard her, the palace lurching in agreement with her words. As the floor hit a definitely diagonal orientation, Vance skidded to a stop, stumbling as he tried not to let the grade drag him off his feet. Turning around as quick as he could, he was instead running behind Iris, sensing Locke and Lidah none too far behind. The thoughts of the Sith evaporated from his mind in an instant as his priorities cleared.

Screw that guy. Vance was getting his friends and going home.

Sprinting out on to the landing pads with a heavy pant, Vance looked around frantically for options. Lighter speeders on the landings were already beginning to slide as the palace lurched again, everything within it mimicking the movement. A flurry of speeders zipped to and fro the palace’s numerous balconies and landing pads, gunfire still being exchanged as Hutt and Black Sun personnel alike tried to evacuate.

As he considered trying to hijack one of the few remaining vehicles, Vance spotted it out of the corner of his eye. White and black in its motiff, the speeder van charging through the chaos was a welcome sight, the giant logo on the side a familiar one. Vance didn’t even need to verify the familiar presences within; the sight of the drivers wearing lacey maid outfits was all the assurance he needed.

Hey! Locking his presence to theirs across the distance of rushing sky, Vance waved his arms at the speeder wildly. Looking down, he took note of the pad upon which they stood. Pad 14, just to your left!