The Foundation of All Desire (Part 36)
Kai Zykken looked up. Way up. "Well Scoundrels, get a load of this." He bit the cork out of his rum bottle and spat it out at the stranger's feet. He took a swig from the bottle and hiccupped.
"Bet the Captain could feed the whole crew for a month with this one." He chuckled. "She's a looker, but I'd be afraid of waking up to her chewing on my—"
Tomota cut him short. "Kai…not a good idea. He looks angry." He prattled in rapid Bith syllables.
Lord Scourge crossed his arms. "I'm looking for a woman—"
"Heh. Aren't we all? Well, not me. Truth is, women are practically breaking down the door to get a piece of this." Kai Zykken hiked his eyebrows to the ceiling and jerked the collar of his jacket forward. "Isn't that right Tomota?"
Tomota stared ahead blankly.
"Remind me again, why I keep you around?" Zykken grumbled.
Scourge extended his arm, his fingers curving into a claw to lift the scrawny pirate out of his chair. "I was told a woman paid you a visit, looking for information. Where is she?"
Zykken sputtered and coughed. "Loads…of…women…urgh…visit me."
Scourge shook the pirate like an akk dog shakes a womprat.
"A'right…urgh…a'right. Put me down…and I'll tell ya." Zykken kicked and flailed.
Scourge retracted the Force, dropping Zykken to the floor like the pirate's discarded cork.
Zykken's hands flew to his throat to soothe it. "Ow." He coughed. "Was that really necessary? You're lookin' for the Captain of the Red Hutts, right? I sent 'er out back to get my data pad. Haven't seen 'er since. I swear."
Tomota nodded quickly. "It's true. She was looking for whoever warned us she was coming to collect."
"Collect what?" Scourge growled.
"Credits…Kai owes her money, but she said we're square now. Last I saw her, she was heading for the entertainment district."
"If I discover otherwise, I will return, and it won't be pleasant." Scourge turned on his heel, cloak swinging as he strode down the ramp.
"Like this was?" Zykken pulled himself up and rubbed at his rump. "That hurt. I need someone to kiss it better."
Tomota shook his head. "Don't look at me."
"Course not, you don't even have lips Tomota."
Liatrix helped herself to an empty table at the outdoor bistro in Rishi's entertainment district.
What a day, she thought. She rubbed at her forehead and sighed.
Within an hour of her arrival, she'd gotten lost, been mistaken for a cannibal pirate captain, and challenged to a duel by an obnoxious pink Rodian named Gorro.
No matter how many times she insisted she wasn't a cannibal, the locals urged her not to eat them. It wasn't until she declared poultry too bland for her tastes that they stopped. Feeling mischievous, she decided to play along and bought a tricorne hat; a scarlet cape; thigh high pirate boots and completed the look with an antique pistol at her hip.
At least I don't look like a tourist anymore, she thought.
No one in the bistro seemed in a hurry to take her order. Judging by their hostile stares, Rishi's citizens harboured a healthy distrust of strangers. That, or they'd never seen a cannibal pirate captain up close and didn't want to.
The trail of bread crumbs she'd been following, led her to a shifty little womprat, named Kai Zykken. More con man than pirate, Zykken was a legend in his own mind. If pirating didn't work out, she could see him selling used speeders or magic sand to Jawas.
Liatrix smirked. For whatever reason, he believed he owed her money and she enjoyed watching him squirm. But rather than paying her, he convinced her to rummage through his scrap bin for his data pad. She wondered if someone along the way, had stamped the word 'sucker' on her forehead. When she began to doubt Zykken's data pad existed, a monkey lizard absconded with it, leading her on a wild chase through Rishi's entertainment sector.
After reclaiming the data pad from the creature's owner, and sabotaging a crier droid, she finally had the location of whoever lured her to Rishi.
The bistro's owner, a wizened woman with leathery brown skin and a tangerine coloured skull cap, hobbled toward her and stopped well out of arm's reach. She leaned hard on her wooden leg and folded her arms. "We only serve drinks here."
"All right. I'd like a cup of Jawa juice, please." Liatrix mirrored the woman's unfriendly expression and crossed her arms.
"We ain't got that."
"Ok, black caf then."
"Ain't got that either."
"Well, what do you have?" Liatrix drummed her fingers against the table.
"Rum."
"Fine. I'll have the rum then."
"What kind?"
Liatrix shrugged. "I don't know. What kind do you have?"
"Six and forty."
"What's the difference?"
"Thirty-four credits."
Liatrix looked straight ahead, and blinked incredulously. "Okay…fine. I'll take the six and some water." She watched the woman shuffle away.
A welcome breeze wafted through the concourse, carrying with it the smell of cheap tibanna magazines, algae and a cloying odour she couldn't place. The din of hushed voices and clinking glasses sounded nearby, punctuated by the endearing cackle of monkey lizards.
Every table, save hers, had at least one of the impish creatures hopping about. With all the monkey lizards on Rishi, there wasn't a single albino among them.
It would have been nice to see at least one, she thought.
The leather-skinned woman returned with a flask of rum, and a glass of water. Liatrix paid and tipped well.
The old woman bowed slightly. "Thank ye mightily Cap'n. One thing's fer sure, the Red Hulls ain't cheap. No sir-ee. Not like those damn Nova Blades." She raised her voice, letting it carry across the aisle to one of the corner tables like a hint.
"What can I say? You save a lot when you don't have to buy meat." Liatrix pulled the water closer. She took a sip, and to her surprise, she found it cool and refreshing.
The server hobbled away as quickly as her peg leg would allow, and Liatrix's latest remark attracted a whole new crop of mortified stares. She lifted her glass to them in a mock toast and then turned away.
Rishi wasn't without its charm. The shops lining the docks had a quaint, welcoming vibe. Crisp blue flags flapped under every street lamp. Vendors sat under the shade of blue canvas awnings. In the distance, the colourful lights marking the red light sector, reminded her of a dim corner on Nar Shadaa. With the right investors, Rishi might have been transformed into an interesting tourist locale.
She leaned forward on her elbows and blew out a long deep breath. Downing the last of the water, she slipped the untouched flask of rum into a pouch hanging off her belt.
The sun hung low on the horizon, curtained by strips of magenta, rose and gold.
I better get moving, she thought. Liatrix rented a speeder and crossed town. The catwalks above, cast eerie shadows over the plank covered streets, and drunks darkened the doorways.
She turned a corner into a wide dead-end alley. Balls of litter tumbled over the docks, and several of the buildings were blackened with mould. Boarded up windows, missing planks and shingles suggested they'd recently weathered a bad storm. A mattress sat propped up against the building at the end of the alley. The neighborhood reeked of wet trash and rotting wood. She paused to check the address and frowned.
I guess this is it. Here we go.
She dismounted her speeder and started for the building. A mountain of fur stepped out in front of her, blocking her path.
"There you are scum!" The alien growled. "I am Grumm. You kill my brother, and then dare show your face in the street? Gorro deserved better."
"Your brother? How is that even possible?" Liatrix spread her hands and shook her head. "Besides, he started it. He didn't even have the guts to go one on one. He had his Nova Blade buddies back him up. Not that it did him any good."
"He probably saw what I see, that you are filth, only worthy of death." Grumm drew his electroblade and snarled. "For Gorro!"
Before Liatrix could draw, Grumm's knees buckled, and he slumped forward, face-planting into the planks. The fur on his back smoked from a lightsaber burn.
Liatrix ignited her saber and then retracted it.
Scourge emerged from the shadows. "Are you injured?"
"No. I'm fine. What are you doing here?"
"I didn't think it prudent to leave you stranded here alone."
"I'm hardly stranded. After I check out this lead, I'm returning to the ship for the night."
"There was a distress call above the Rishi moon—pirates attacked a supply freighter. There were considerable casualties."
"You could have commed me."
"I could have." Scourge conceded. "However, it does seem that my timing was fortuitous. And why are you dressed in that ridiculous fashion?"
"I'm blending in." Liatrix crossed her arms. "Look, I had it under control. You didn't need to come after me."
"Noted. You'd prefer to remain stranded among criminals without adequate resources for an extended stay."
Liatrix frowned. After a moment, her expression softened. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day. I was just about to check out this lead…" She tipped her thumb toward the doorway. "You may as well join me, seeing as you're here now."
They followed the whir of the generator to the backroom of the mouldering hovel. A rusty fan drove gusts of warm air through the room and Theron turned to greet the arrivals. He grinned. "Hey there."
"Theron? Lana? You're the ones behind all of this?"
"Guilty as charged. Sorry, but we had to be cautious." Theron said.
Lana abandoned the console and joined Theron at his side. "Lord Scourge, it's a pleasure to see you again." She said.
"Likewise." Scourge inclined his head slightly. "You look well. Surprising, given your accommodations."
"You're too kind. It truly has been a sacrifice for Theron and myself. Surely you can understand our zeal to conclude our time here."
"Indeed."
"Master Liatrix…" Lana let the greeting hang between them.
"Lana." Liatrix glanced slyly about the spartanly furnished room.
"The Revanites have gone to increasingly severe lengths to hunt us down, since Rakata Prime."
"We had to get you here, without attracting attention. Sorry we couldn't be more direct." Theron added.
"After all of this time, I was starting to think you didn't care." Liatrix quirked a brow and smiled impishly.
"Is that a fact? And what are you thinking now?" Theron edged closer.
"Shall we focus…please?" Lana said.
Theron leaned against the support column and crossed his legs at the ankles. "A pirate gang called the Nova Blades run things here on Rishi. They murder or enslave anyone who dares to stand up to them, and now we've learned they're conspiring with Revan."
"They're attacking very specific trade routes. They've remapped a significant section of stellar traffic. It's all very strange. I don't know what to make of it." Lana tapped at the console to call up a visual of the distorted hyperlanes.
Liatrix studied the changes the pirates had inflicted on the system. "We may not know what the Revanites are up to, but the pirates will."
"Exactly. We need to shake the Nova Blades down, get into their computers—find out what they know. A direct attack, would make the Revanites suspicious." Theron said.
"So that's why you told everyone I'm a pirate…when I attack, it'll look like a feud between gangs, instead of a calculated move."
"And I see you're blending right in. Good work. We'll need to hit a few of the Nova Blade's holdings to solidify your cover story." Theron said.
"The Revanites have supply caches nearby. Once the Red Hulls destroy them, word will spread quickly. Mutual friends have agreed to give us a hand. They'll meet you in the field to make arrangements." Lana added.
"Jakarro and D-4?"
"The very same." Lana nodded, and looked between Liatrix and Scourge.
"While you're hitting the supply cache, we'll keep spreading the word about your grudge, maybe flush out some other targets. Sound good?"
"I'll get out there right away."
"Take these holo standards with you. Once you've destroyed the caches, you'll want the Red Hulls to take responsibility." Theron said.
"Got it." Liatrix pocketed the tiny emitters. "I guess we're all set."
"Good luck." Lana approached Scourge and smiled. "Do be careful. And may the Force ever serve you."
"And you as well."
Liatrix hoped Theron would see her off, or say something further, but instead he returned to the console, turning his back to her.
Outside, she stopped and looked up at the clear dusk sky and the emerging constellations. Scourge watched her, but said nothing. She was the first to break the silence between them.
"We'll need to secure lodgings…we'll do that on our way out." Liatrix mounted her speeder, grateful that Scourge refrained from making any cutting remarks. He followed her out of the alley, remaining a few meters behind.
Three hours later, the town's western fringes blazed and boomed with exploding munitions, and several hundred slaves had been liberated from nearby slave camps. The stench of burning tibanna gas wafted over the town and jungle.
Scourge had secured lodgings at an inn, not far from Lana and Theron's base of operations. "Rest well Jedi. We'll speak in the morning."
"Good night." Liatrix watched him retreat into his room, half surprised he didn't linger. Despite the late hour, sleep eluded her.
After she washed away the soot and grime on her face, she swung her cloak over her shoulders and pressed on her tricorne hat. She wandered down the plank board concourse, the neon signs buzzing and flickering above her. The drunks lining the doorways earlier had acquired pleasurable company, and paid her no mind as she passed.
She found herself approaching the base of operations. Golden lamplight leaked through the tiny porthole windows and she hesitated, deliberating if she should continue.
It's now or never. I have to know, she thought. She tried the door. Finding it unlocked, she drew a deep breath and crept inside.
Theron whirled around, pistol drawn. "Who's there?"
"You're not thinking of shooting me again, are you Theron?"
He chuckled and holstered his weapon. "Hadn't realized I'd forgotten to lock the door."
"You should be more careful…see what happens? The riff raff get in." She quipped.
"What are you doing still up? I didn't expect to see you 'til morning."
"I could ask you the same thing…" Liatrix said.
"Somehow, I suspect our reasons are pretty similar."
"One way to find out. Are you up for a walk? It's not a bad night out…but no shop talk okay?"
"Sure. C'mon." Theron ushered her out, his hand grazing the small of her back. He paused to lock the door. "You're right…it is a nice night out."
"Doesn't sound like you've enjoyed too many."
"Well…between the hurricanes and trying to unravel this conspiracy, I haven't had much time to unwind."
"You have a stronger work ethic than a lot of Jedi…" She teased.
"It's the training. I guess it stuck, even if the Force didn't. I still fast and meditate in the mornings though."
Liatrix grinned. "That habit was the first thing to go, when I got away from the temple. You're not one of those Force forsaken morning people are you?"
"I am. Well, at least until I get a good enough reason to sleep in."
"I can think of a few good reasons."
"I bet you could." Theron chuckled and clasped her hand. He led her down a deserted path to the water. The only sound between them, was the clip clop of their boots against the planks and the soft lapping water against the pier.
The stars were pale sequins dotting the calm black water, and the moon, was a thin sickle shimmering in the distance.
Liatrix sat down on the edge of the dock, her feet dangling over the side. She grasped the rough edges of the planks and watched him.
Theron found a flat stone and flicked it into the water with a deft flick of his wrist. The stone skimmed the surface, making eight distinct plipping sounds before it fell silent. "I used to do this for hours back on Tython."
"I've never tried it."
"Not even once? And here I thought you were experienced in the ways of the world."
"Not as much as you'd think."
Theron hunted up another stone. "Here…you try. It's easy." He pressed the flat stone into her hand, wedging it against her thumb. "Hold it like that…and then flick it…like this." He knelt behind her, his arms curving around her. He took her hand, guiding it.
Liatrix practiced the flick, and released on the third attempt. The stone landed in the water with a resounding plop. Liatrix laughed.
Theron ran his hand over his jaw, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You need more practice Padawan." He sat next to her.
"I think you might be right, Master." She smiled and looked away demurely. "I almost didn't visit you tonight…I wasn't sure you'd be happy to see me. You seemed distant before."
He took her hand in his and looked down. "I didn't mean to be…I'm just not used to…" He sighed. "In fact I'm not even sure how to say it. I'm just used to being on my own…"
"And here I thought you were experienced in the ways of the world." Liatrix teased.
"Not as much as you'd think." Theron smiled. His cheeks grew warm.
"After Manaan, I was worried I'd never see you again."
"I thought about that afternoon a lot. I hated the way I left things…I hoped to get another chance to make up for it. Forgive me?"
She rested her head against his shoulder and squeezed his hand. "Of course I do." She ran her thumb over his wrist, tracing circles over his veins. "What you said…about being on your own…I think I understand. I feel that way too. It's easier, fewer people who might get hurt."
Theron kissed the back of her hand. "Our work makes it hard to forge connections. It's always a risk."
"I think it's a risk for everybody. It's never easy letting someone in." She whispered.
He leaned in, his face close to hers. He lingered for a moment, studying her countenance—her eyes, her soft full mouth—before pressing a tender, but wary kiss to her lips. She answered him, with a tremulous kiss of her own. She pulled back just enough to smile at him.
"Well? Was the risk worth it?"
"Yeah, I'd say mission accomplished." He grinned.
"Then we should celebrate."
He eyed the flask attached to her belt. "I see you came prepared…can't see you as a rum drinker though."
"You know what happens when I drink." She unclipped the flask and offered it to him. "But, I figured a real pirate would have rum."
"You're really having fun with this. Did I mention, it's a good look for you? I love the hat." Theron uncorked the flask and took a swig. He winced at the burn and licked his lips. He passed the rum back to her.
"I shouldn't, but what the heck. Yo ho ho." She took a swig and swallowed.
Theron smirked. "Well Captain?" He reached out and swept his thumb over the corner of her mouth.
"Pretty much how I imagined." She wrinkled her nose at him and passed the flask back.
"It's an acquired taste…" He murmured and took another long swig.
"How cold do you suppose that water is?" Liatrix arched a playful brow.
"What are you thinking?" Theron said dubiously as he watched her with amused suspicion.
She snatched the flask and took a long swig and returned it. "Close your eyes. Go on, close 'em." She urged.
"A'right." Theron shut his eyes.
"No peeking." She stuffed her tricorne hat on his head and stood.
Theron's brows wriggled as he listened to the swish of falling clothing, followed by a splash and a muted yelp and a gasp.
"Well? How is it?" Theron opened one eye, and then the other.
"Come in and find out." Liatrix skimmed the water, creating a soft arcing wake before her.
He downed another mouthful of rum. "Cover your eyes."
Liatrix giggled and pressed cool wet hands over her face. She smirked and left just enough of a gap between her middle fingers to peek up at him.
Theron glanced around, and then hastily shucked his clothing, against the dim light of the distant street lamp.
Liatrix found herself wishing for more light…a full moon would have been perfect. She glimpsed enough of his silhouette that she bit down on her lower lip. Her cheeks warmed, and she felt a flutter of arousal spread through her.
After the splash, she dropped her hands and swam toward him. "Not bad huh?"
He shuddered, but quickly acclimated to the water. "Imagine what it must be like during the day. Wish we had time to find out…" Droplets of water rolled down his face, chest and shoulders, yet his hair still retained its familiar spikey style.
"When all this is over…we should come back, rent a place in the mountains. But let's not think about that right now." Liatrix said.
He favoured her with an appreciative gaze…admiring the water glistening like evening dew against her moon-pale shoulders. The water around them was an unfortunate dark cloak that hid their secrets from view.
"What should we think about right now?" He murmured, his voice thick and gravelly with yearning.
"This." She swished closer to him, and ran her hands up over his chest, her fingertips grazing the nape of his neck, as she drew him close. She pressed against him, her body cool against his heat. Her lips met his with a silken tremulous kiss. The deep wanting growl at the back of his throat urged her to deepen the kiss, into something molten and primal.
She felt the thunder of his heartbeat clashing against her own, and the slippery caress of his hands exploring her body scape. She answered his explorations with her own, her fingers kneading the muscular sinews weaving broad shoulders to the taut back and torso.
Cleaving to her, he dropped his hands lower and pulled her against him. They broke their kiss long enough to draw breath and make an unspoken assent for what was about to happen next.
She gasped and closed her eyes. Her brows pinched together and her lower lip quivered, as the fervor between them grew. She nuzzled the divot of his shoulder and stole a peek at his expression. His eyes were closed, and his jaw slack. She closed her eyes and kissed him again. She suckled his lower lip and gasped when she felt him seize her arms, and shove her roughly behind him. Her eyes snapped open at his sudden detachment. "What's wrong?" She protested.
"Company." He murmured. "Stay back."
She moved behind him, spying three dark figures standing over them on the pier.
"This is a private party, guys." Theron called out, hoping the trio would take the hint and leave.
"Rishi has strict laws 'bout yer kind of…party." The tallest snickered.
"Outta the water, both of yeh. Now. You're under arrest." The leader brandished his pistol to urge them out. The shortest of the three glared down at them, his pistol clicking as he drew the hammer back. The leader, collected their clothing and weapons in a bundle.
"Since when does a pirate town have law enforcement?" Liatrix hissed against Theron's bicep. She drew her arms up over her chest, in an effort to hide herself.
"That's the thing…I'm pretty sure they don't." Theron muttered, keeping her behind him.
((to be continued…))