Thank you for taking the time to tolerate my first Star Wars Fic. For Fair warning, the genres mean nothing. It's really Adventure/Angst/Crime/Drama/Humor/Sci-fi. Maybe even a little Romance. Also as said in the description, this story will be mostly OC, but with some characters I'm sure you'll recognize.
This chapter is vulgar, but the rest of the story won't be like this.
That being said, enjoy.
Ch. 1: No Satisfaction
9:58 PM (GST)
"The Cage"
The Cage is, locally, a very popular strip club on Coruscant. Complete with dancers of all different species-ones that are attractive anyway-this place is paradise for every hormone-raging boy, money rubbing monkey in a suit or just some down-on-your-luck man looking for love.
That last bit is actually true. I knew a guy who found his "soul mate", or according to her line of work "Soul food," in a joint just a couple systems from here. They seemed like a good couple, but conflicting choices ruined their relationship. He wanted to communicate more, but she wanted to have sex with strangers while he worked. The only thing my friend got out of that relationship was 2 months of awesome sex. It just goes to show you: Love cannot be found on a stripper pole.
So to some, The Cage may be a haven, but inside the cage lies a beast we need to bring down.
A beast worth 4,000 credits.
Oh, where are my manners? I should've introduced myself before that dramatic break in the story.
My name is Bane, Brutus Bane. No relation to the blue dude, as I would later find out. I'm a Bounty Hunter, but I perfer to think of myself as a "Hired Cop."
I am also the leader of the rather infamous Space Dogs, a ragtag team of bounty hunters which include me, my first mate Alea Ven, a sniper named Scope(Yep, just Scope) and Gidget, a smart-as-a-whip hacker and the youngest of our group at 13 years old.
For now, that's all you need to know.
After paying my fees masquerading as a ordinary man, I find myself in a lushly decorated room filled with décor that's supposed to look expensive, but actually isn't. Doesn't make much sense really. People don't come here for the atmosphere, they come for the titties or asses or whatever else these girls got going for themselves.
I sit on the leather couch inside the room patiently for a good 10 minutes before a girl comes in and shuts the door. She's wearing a latex two-piece that barely leaves anything to imagination. Also, she's a Twi'lek.
Also, it's Alea.
I really hate putting the poor girl through this. After all, she has a history of dancing for scumbags in outfits far more revealing. By that, I mean in nothing at all. It's part of the job, though, and she's the only one that can do this. Well, I wouldn't mind. I look great in a thong, but it would have been too awkward with me. And we couldn't use Gidget. She'll get her chance if we ever get involved in illegal sex slave trade.
She (reluctantly) walks up and gives me a fake lap dance, so suspicion by the bouncer outside wouldn't a-rise. Call it fake all you want, it still turned me on.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Yeah" was my immediate response, and for that, I found my locked under her vicious glare.
"All right, listen: I found evidence revolving around criminal activities done by the target."
"Enough to give us authorization to nail him?" To be clear, the guy that hired us to take him out gave us nothing to do so on. If we killed him under no special circumstance, we'd be no better than simple mercenaries, and Brutus Bane don't swing that way.
"Well... does assault count?" She sheepishly asked
"Just assault?"
"Yeah, info's a bit limited here. It was the only thing I could find. He's practically a ghost."
"Eh, good enough." Peeking over her shoulder, I see the bouncer sneaking a glance at us. Not as a pervert, mind you.
"Think your friend over there is getting suspicious." She quickly turns her her head to look, without breaking form.
"Why do you think?"
"Well, you've been doing the dance for a couple minutes straight." She immediatly stops and switches to another form, in vain. Noting the possiblility that he might have seen us talking and planning, she wracks her brain to come up with a plan.
"Touch my breasts." She finally says to my complete and utter surprise.
"What?" I ask, though don't think that I'm not keen on the idea.
"Just do it!" She orders through her teeth. I reluctantly proceed to touch her "unmentionables" (feeling a bit like a teenage boy given permission to touch the hot next door neighbor) and, as predicted, I'm given a hard yet pulled slap to the face.
"No touching the ladies!" She sternly says to me as my rub my pulsing cheek. The bouncer turns to us, ready to come over and go all madhouse on my ass.
"Don't worry, I've got this one." She states, being damn convincing to the point where I myself am nervous. She's good at this kind of thing. It's one of her many talents.
Seeing no need to interfere, he actually walks away!
"Damn, your good." She says nothing, but smiles confidently at this compliment, then sits down next to me.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" After hearing this she strikes a confused look. "Did I say stop?" Groaning, she decides to compromise, which is also something she is very good at.
"If we can get out of this job with no injuries, I'll give you a 2 minute one. Deal?"
"Same outfit?"
"Yes." After a noticable sigh.
Couldn't argue with that. "Deal."
"So, what's the deal with this assault thing?" I ask, looking for some kind of method to get in contact with him. According to the guy that hired us, he rarely leaves his office. This "assault" thing seems like a good thing to work on. "According to records I found, he's pretty clean-slated. The only thing he's been nailed for is assault a couple years ago. Apparently, he broke some poor bastards arm because he insulted his 'merchandise.'"
"Merchandise?"
"His girls. Must have a soft spot for them."
Now, there's something you don't see everyday: A big corporate monkey has a soft spot for the little guy, or in this case, little girl. A rather sadistic smile creeped on my face, which didn't go unnoticed by Alea, who looked a trifle freaked out. If you wish to trap the Dirt-fish, you must first set the bait. Then he'll come to you. Think of it as psycological bait.
"Back in a minute." I spoke as I stood up to take a step outside the velvet room.
Now normally, I don't like to cause scenes. Having everyone know you're out to kill someone is bad for business. This is an exception, though. I gotta coax that guy to come out, so I can deal with him myself.
Once I step out, I look about the rowdy crowd. They're all drooling over a rather flamboyant girl dancing on a lit up pole. I look back at Alea, and clear my throat.
"I AM NOT SATISFIED!" I yell, past the ability of my lungs.
Just as I thought: The entire club goes silent, with all eyes on me. The girls stop dancing and the waiters and waitresses stop serving. A bouncer, no make that two, walk up to me.
"Is there a problem?"
"You damn right there is!" I yell with a drunken lisp, trying to sound as obnoxious as possible."I have not been satisfied by your girls." I seize a quick opportunity and grab a glass of what I assume is whiskey. I didn't have to lie for this one. It tasted like crap. I take a swig and spit it out. "Plus, this is horrible whiskey."
"That's because it's champagne."
"Really? Well, it still sucks. What kind of place you running here? Bring out the owner so I can yell at him!"
The two clearly irritated bouncers look at each other. I use this chance to steal a look at Alea, who's still sitting in the room, head resting on hand. She looks positively mortified. I bid her a wink, and she returns the favor by bidding me a cutthroat gesture. Oh, I am in trouble tonight.
"We'll let him know." Just like that? Lucky me. I don't even have to hold anyone hostage. Good thing too, because that plan gets really messy sometimes.
And so, after waiting for an undetermined amount of time, I finally come face-to-face with the big boss. I really should say face-to-stomach, because this guy is XXXL. He's wearing a large gray suit, pressed and primmed. His whole image is reminding me of what I compared him to originally: A gangster. Basically, he just radiates power, and he looks like he ain't afraid to use it.
"So I hear you're unsatisfied?" He speaks in a gutteral tone that reminds me almost of a bull frog. I try to show no fear, and respond back.
"Yes, we covered that."
With a wave of his hand, two goons armed to the teeth appear from behind and the next thing I know, I'm looking down the barrel of a gun. Wow, he is touchy. People in the bar, seeing the loaded weaponry, panic and run like hell to the nearest exit, leaving us two to discuss business.
"As if it's my fault." I mutter.
Outside, on a nearby building
"But, I'm bored!"
"And I said 'I don't care.'" Replied a rather irritated Scope to the young hacker known as Gidget, who has been begging mercilessly to shoot at birds with his scoped laser rifle while she should be watching over her portable monitor for any police activity.
"You are not gonna shoot my rifle at any birds because a) It's a waste of ammo and b) It might give away our position." Scolds Scope. Scope, reaching in nearly six feet, is essentially the big man of the group. He is dressed in a long sleeved shirt made of some unknown material that is thick like a burlap sack and covered partially by a sleeveless camo vest and matching camo pants. All this is complete with a rawhide leather cowboy hat covering his blondish hair and aviator shades. His favorite rifle, in danger of being shot by Gidget is mounted on a tripod overlooking the stripclub across the street.
"It's a silenced rifle! Plus, these birds are freaking me out." Gidget, at 13 years old, is the youngest member of the space dogs. Despite her age, she has prover herself capable in battle and is a skilled hacker. Her attire consists of a green colored light jacket covering a black t-shirt (barely seen due to her being closed up to keep the cold wind of Coruscant at night from skin contact) and loose-fitting jeans with the bottoms tucked into her boots. Her head is mostly covered by her favorite army helmet and green tinted goggles, which barely make her likewise green eyes and black hair visable.
"What do you think they're gonna do?" Scope asked, finally humoring her.
"Come down and peck our eyes out." She waved her arms and spoke in a ghostly voice to look scary, but actually ended up looking kind of stupid. "Seriously, they look like they can do that."
Scope gave her a moment of silence before saying "What do you care? You're wearing goggles."
"But you're not." She said rather quickly. "I care for your safety."
"If you cared enough for my safety, you wouldn't have left me to fight that group of pirates alone when we were on Naboo."
"I was shot by a poison dart!" She cried while shooting him a look of offense. A look of remembrance appeared on his face.
"Oh, yeah. I remember that..."
"Listen, I'm just saying this isn't the best shipment of lasers I've ever seen. Don't you have anything better?" Spoke Scope who, along with Gidget, was in charge of disguising themselves as a person of power with his daughter and intercept a shipment of lasers. Mostly for a job, but mostly for personal gain. They wanted the lasers.
"Better?" Asked the captain, who looked a wee bit displeased having his inventory insulted. "How's this for better?" He made a motion with his hand and fired a dart. The elderly and partially blind pirate, however, missed his mark and proceeded to strike Gidget in the neck with a dart full of mysterious poison. She placed her hand on the wound almost with instinct and muttered through her teeth a "Dang" before collapsing to the ground to a heap.
Both Scope and the pirates stared at the site before them, each with a look that said "Oops."
"Is she dead?" If she was, Scope could consider himself thrown into the fire pits of Mustafar by Brutus.
"Oh, no. It's a paralyzing poison. She'll be fine." Scope heaved a sigh of relief before he heard the next thing he said:
"You, however, are a different story. Kill him." Scope turned to find a group of pirates aiming their trusty armaments at him.
"Dang." He repeated.
"You are never gonna let me live that one up are you?"
"I couldn't move for nearly 2 weeks!" Said a pissed off Gidget. "You had to help me eat, Alea had to bathe me and I had to wear a diaper!"
"Yes, that was an awkward time for both of us." He sarcastically spoke as he proceeded to change the subject. Technically, it was his fault.
"Listen: If you're so bored, go check and see how the Bounty Hunting Tag Team is doing."
Gidget did so, but only after muttering a string of curse words, including calling Scope a name that shall not be mentioned in polite company. Walking up to look into the rifle's scope, she gave a watchful eye into the bar.
"They're aiming guns at Brutus." She said, almost nonchalantly.
"WHAT?" Snapped a surprised Scope. He crawled up to Gidget's position and leaned into the scope to find Brutus being threatened by two portly looking guards.
"Blast it." With rushed intentions, he cocked and aimed his rifle "He's gonna be so ticked off."
Brutus's POV
"Oh, come now Luzie, baby. Can't we talk about this?" I tried reasoning the situation. My first plan, which was to use a living shield for myself, was foiled when everyone started panicking and ran out of the club. Right now, it's mass hysteria outside. Local police are gonna get curious, so I need to finish this job ASAP.
Anyways, before I find myself riddled with holes, the guards were hit with pinpoint accuracy between the eyes.
"About time, Scope." I muttered into my earpiece.
"Sorry, sir." I hear after a second of static, his voice is replaced with a lighter, more effeminate voice. Probably Gidget.
"Brutus, I'm picking up intercepting police chatter talking about a disturbance at a local bar. I think they're on to us." Boy, did I call that or what?
"No Empire chatter?" Being noticed by the Empire was hard, but once you stir up the hive, you better be in for a long chase. It would be overkill here, though. Sending an Empire squad to keep some drunk idiots in line? No way in Hell. They weren't that strict... yet.
"Nope, just local lines. Coruscant Police Force."
"...And here I was hoping this was going to be a silent job." I said to myself. Don't think she heard me, though. I was about the modify my receiver when I find the big gang lord charge at me with a chair in hand. Caught off-guard (Which is not common for me, mind you), I jump rather sluggishly to my left and up landing on broken glass. A nasty gash ends up on the underside of my arm, but I suck it up and get on my feet and stand my ground against this raging Reek.
"I'll kill you! I swear to God! I'll bury you!" He yelled, with certainty.
"Then you're gonna have to do better than that, fatty." I wise crack with a scoundrel's grin on my face. It only ticks him off more and he charges like a stark-raving madman. When he brings down the proverbial hammer, I manage to catch it and use the bar behind me for a lift so I give him a face full of combat boot. He stumbles, but does not fall. He only wipes blood off his fat face and grabs a table to throw at me. I leap over to the bartender's side of the bar as it crashes and I hide there for a second to plan my next step.
My thoughts, however, are interrupted when I hear sirens just outside the bar. Crap, police are here. I peek over the bar and find tubby running into the back, hoping to exit out the back door. I quickly turn on my earpiece.
"Alea, he's heading towards your position. Take him out."
"Roger." Alea stealthy moves through the halls and comes to her target trying to open a locked door. Like a ghost's shadow, she creeps on him and pulls out a vibroblade. Raising it, she jams it into his meaty neck. Alea, being a specialist on nerve points of multiple species, was able to locate and strike a point which totally removes any ability for him to move. He falls to the ground and with a final shuddering breath, fades into oblivion.
"Now you can be at peace." Alea whispered as she closed his eyes. Standing up, she radios for her friend, but gets nothing but static.
"Brutus? Brutus, are you there?" Nothing. "Brutus?"
"Yes?" A whisper says in her ear. She nearly jumps out of her skin, but sees it's just her friend inspecting the body.
"Mission accomplished?"
"Yes."
"Nice job, darling. Let's call the others and head back. You owe me a dance." Alea at first looks defeated, but notices blood drips off of his right arm. What poor Brutus didn't realize is that cutting yourself with broken glass counts as wounding yourself on a mission. Brutus notices the wound and tries to cover it, but it's too late. Alea bids him a victory smirk and picks open the door to let them out.
"But it's just a flesh wound!" An unlucky Brutus calls out.
Exactly one hour later
A small, inconspicuous speeder rides down the crowded street to a bar that's overrun with local authorities and medical response teams. The two figures in the speeder look with surprise at the site before them, which includes a certain mob boss being lifted out on a stretcher while covered up.
"Looks like someone beat us to it." He proceeds to radio his leader.
"Sir?"
"What?" A female voice sounds. The voice sounds young but is also noticeably cold and icy.
"We're at the bar, but it looks like someone did our work for us. The gang lord is dead."
The voice on the radio sighs before becoming silent. After apparently thinking something over, she speaks.
"He's dead. That's all that matters."
"You think it was them, sir?" The other passenger suddenly speaks. "The mercenaries that have been showing up a lot lately?"
"I wouldn't be surprised. They have been eliminating a lot of our targets for us. Maybe it's time we introduced ourselves..."
Anyone Care to Beta for me? I'm confident with my ability to write detail. Or Dialog. Or Fanfiction.
Also let me know what you think, but really even if I don't get any reviews, I'll probably keep writing. I have alot in store for this story.
Until we meet again...