She chewed the tangy organism thoughtfully. Her lips weren't burning so she assumed it wasn't poisonous and helped herself to another. Her body twitched involuntarily, usually a sign that someone was watching her. Quickly she scanned the room as her instincts dictated. Black eyes flitted from face to face, categorizing according to threat level. Her eyes narrowed as she stared from beneath shaggy white hair at the two men on the opposite side of the bar.
They made no move to remove their expensive looking coats as servers rushed forward to attend them. "Arrogant fekkiks", she thought to herself. They were pale with matching slicked back hair and near identical clothing. All black, all leather and hair grease. The only distinguishing feature to her eyes was the limp mustache the more arrogant one sported. She knew his type; privileged from birth never had to scrap for anything. Limp mustache strode easily towards her, his sidekick quickly following.
"Feks could be fun, their arrogance and overconfidence made them easy marks. Smile pretty, play dumb stroke their egos and other things" she thought "and they would be falling all over themselves and then when you rolled them, played runaway with their wallets, they were usually too proud to admit being fooled by a common tralk". Not tonight though, the buffet was free, she was sufficiently buzzed and to top it off these dudes were not nearly cute enough.
She chewed another of the orange organisms as she regarded Limp mustache with her practiced bored look.
"New talent. Didn't know Jenet was hiring exotics these days", Limp mustache said.
"Presumptuous frellnik. Typical! Not even an introduction. He just assumed I worked here." She thought as she continued chewing. He leaned in invading her space but she didn't shift a dench. "Moving away signals weakness and I'm no..n...what the frell!?" she lost track of her thoughts when Limpy traced her lip with his thumb. Instantly she knocked his greasy hand away. A kick to the mivonks would sort him out, but she remembered a promise she made. "In and out, buy what we need, no trouble" D'argo had said back on the transport pod.
"I don't work here", she said coolly. "What a fekik." she thought.
"Well maybe we'll give you a try anyway", he said smiling. His face looked as greasy as his thumb had felt, his too pale eyes traced from the buffet table to her loomas. Then in one slick oily movement he chose a small fruit and dropped it down her top.
"Really? Every planet? Do I have tralk written on my chest?" she thought "why did men feel they had a right to do this?" She stared at him long enough to signal aggression. "Frell him" she thought "I'm just going to walk away". She set her jaw in defiance; shoulders angled back her mouth closed over a million unsaid words, all the while aware of the sticky fruit now lodged between her loomas. She felt dirty, not that she had a problem with fruit on her loomas just let it be on her terms.
"Don't move! I'll get it for you.", Limpy continued his words dipped in charm and sarcasm. His eyes now focused on her chest and his hands fondled a drinking implement. She pushed against the seat, fluidly slipping into an upright position. The clean shaven one behind her clamped his hand around her arms and forced her back into the seat. "Frell" she thought. She had forgotten about the other one and she chastised herself for sitting in such an exposed position. Cycles on Moya had obviously softened her edge.
"Did you hear me?" Limpy sneered, the charm disappeared and his eyes burned angrily. People listened to him, they never defied him, he would show this little alien girl how things worked around here.
Her black eyes searched the buffet table for a weapon, anything to regain control of the situation. The sidekick's fingers dug into her arms viciously as Limp mustache man probed the fruit in her top. Silently she cursed the bar stool separating Limpy's mivonks from her foot. She struggled against the clean shaven one's grip. Her anger pushed against the back of her eyes, it was big and blue and homicidal pressed against the inside of her skull. She released some of the pressure with a hiss in objection and another futile struggle.
Limp mustache man grinned wide, amused at her objections. His straw worked furiously at the fruit. He licked his lips as his eyes followed the sticky slippery trail he traced between her loomas.
The glint of the serving knife caught her eye, a plan formed; push Limp mustache forward, step on the sidekick's foot and grab the knife. She leaned away from the groping only to be pushed forward again by the man behind her. "Wait for it" she settled her mind. This plan relied on surprise she knew she couldn't beat them with strength.
Then she saw him. Familiar broad shoulders rising behind Limp mustache and she knew it would be all right. He leaned into the light behind Limp mustache. "D'argo!" he would help her. She almost smiled at seeing him, almost. Her smile hid from the look on his face. That look on his face was familiar too, disappointment written in tankas and a scowl. Their eyes met for two microts. Nebari and Luxan exchanged glances, as Limpy continued his groping, and the exchange hurt her more than Limpy's violation. The luxan didn't have to say it out loud for the question to deafen her "What did you this time?" It was always something she had done.
"I tried – I tried not to start any trouble." She tried to defend herself against D'argo's unspoken accusation.
Limpy's sidekick stared down her chest looking for the fruit and didn't loosen his grip while Limpy continued his search. They didn't notice D'argo fuming.
"Well you're not in any trouble!" Limpy wheedled, oblivious to the Luxan standing behind him.
"But you are." D'argo growled.
