Narcime Venu stood on a hoverdisc traveling slowly down a long white hallway. He traveled backwards to face the floating platform where a captive Nahlia and Obi-Wan were still strapped down in chairs - back to back. The platform moved them sideways so both could see Venu in front of them and just behind them where Volacca and Diora stood keeping an eye on the Jedi from their own hoverdiscs. Along the hallway, the group passed by several large picture windows on either side. The windows allowed passers by to observe the activities of various odd looking droids within the many workrooms of the complex.
"Now if you both look to my right," Venu told his guests. "You can see into my wardrobe room, filled with original Narcime Venu designs - soon to be available in Ogby's department stores throughout the galaxy."
Growing tired of Venu's overbearing and long-winded demeanor - Obi-Wan let a bit of sarcasm slip out. "Narcime who?"
"Narcime Venu." He folded his arms and smiled arrogantly. "You've heard of me, of course."
Obi-Wan shrugged slightly. "Should I have?"
Venu's jaw dropped. "Should you-?! Yes!" He answered testily. "You most certainly should have heard of me! I happen to be a galactically renowned artist, inventor, and fashion designer!"
"Hmmm... " Obi-Wan shook his head. "Sorry doesn't ring a bell."
Shocked, Venu let out a snort in response before muttering. "Doesn't ring a bell..." He snorted again. "I should have known, you're a Jedi, after all... the closest thing you ever come to flair and style is when you're trying to decide between wearing the beige colored tunic and the tan one." He looked to Nahlia with near desperation. "You! Surely you've heard of me?!"
Nahlia answered with a nervous smile. "Would you let us go if I told you I had?"
Venu scowled. "No."
"Then sorry..." Nahlia answered despondently. "I'm not familiar with your work."
Diora chuckled quietly before muttering under her breath. "Don't worry, you will be."
"Well of course you're not familiar with my work..." Venu huffed. "I'd hardly expect some silly girl from lower Coruscant to know anything about me and my high fashion - not to mention the many, many, pieces of mine that have been featured in the Coruscant Museum of the Arts."
"'Many?'" Obi-Wan remained unimpressed. "Really?"
"Yes." Venu snarled back. "Really."
"And exactly how does the council of the Coruscant Museum of Art feel about you kidnapping people?" Obi-Wan asked.
"The council doesn't know..." Venu glanced behind him a moment and smiled. "There are however, those in the museum who are well aware of the methods I use in creating my most special masterpieces."
Surprised, Obi-Wan questioned him further. "Such as?"
Venu's smile grew into a disturbing smirk. He held his hands out on either side of him as his hoverdisc began to pass two very lifelike statues of humanoid males dressed as guards. Obi-Wan and Nahlia looked at them curiously. Both found it chilling to see how real the statues were. Slowly Obi-Wan realized that they looked real, because they were real. They were real human beings frozen in time by this madman. Obi-Wan looked further down the corridor - horrified to see statue after statue of beings entombed alive in the name of Venu's art.
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Inside Venu's wardrobe department, two odd looking droids attended to Nahlia while Obi-Wan remained secured to his chair with his back to them. Diora Dega approached him with a thin black collar and proceeded to place it around his neck. "Don't worry," she smirked. "I won't muss up your hair. The boss just wanted me to put this little accessory on you... so you can't use any of those Force powers against us." She pressed a few buttons on the side of the collar which lit up before disappearing behind a secret compartment. "There, that didn't hurt did it?" Diora pouted seductively as she caressed his cheek. Obi-Wan jerked away his face away from her in disgust. "Oh, what's a matter Jedi? Am I not your type?"
Obi-Wan glared. "Certainly not."
"Oh, that's right, you prefer the helpless types, like little Nahlia there, don't you?" Diora glanced up at Nahlia who was now struggling with the droids to keep her clothes on. "A hero's got to have someone to save, after all."
"I don't know what you people are talking about," Obi-Wan insisted. "We're friends, that's all."
"Darling," Diora leaned down close to his face and she pointed to her cybernetic eye, "the eye doesn't lie..." She then brushed her light blue hair back behind her metallic right ear. "And neither does the ear..." She stood up straight again smugly and cleared her throat before saying, in Obi-Wan's own whispering voice, "Why did you do that?" She then smiled flirtatiously as she responded in Nahlia's voice, "I was afraid I might not get another chance."
Behind Obi-Wan, Nahlia began to struggle with her two droid attendants - who were very insistent on her removing her clothing. "Let go of me!" She protested and pushed away the vice-like hands of TF159 - a copper colored droid with a triangular head and three wheels for feet.
The far more personable F9PA, looked like any other protocol droid except for the fact that one eye was significantly larger than the other and random splotches of color marred its silver finish. It attempted to reason with the struggling subject. "Now, please, the master demands that you have a change of exterior coverings."
"I don't want a change of exterior coverings!" Nahlia shouted at the befuddled droid. "I want to go home!" Suddenly TF159 grabbed onto her skirt and blouse and in one quick motion ripped them off of her body - causing her to shriek.
Hearing her, Obi-Wan began to panic. "Nahlia?! What are they doing to-?!" He turned around in his chair, as best he could, to see what was had caused her such a horrific scream. He was surprised to find Nahlia standing with her back to him, in only a pair of small form fitting white panties.
Nahlia shyly covered her bosoms as she stood between the two droids. "Um... I'll take those new exterior coverings now..."
"So glad you see it our way." Pleased, F9PA picked up a triangular piece of bright yellow material and handed it to Nahlia.
Obi-Wan could not take his eyes off of Nahlia - he was familiar with the female form, from the impersonal, clinical, biology lessons he'd had at the Temple many years before but the feelings that were brewing inside of him were far from clinical or impersonal. He found himself desiring to run his hand along her bare back, or to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her close. He continued to watch for a moment, entranced, as she took the yellow blouse from the droid, put it over her head and pulled it down over her chest.
Diora cleared her throat loudly to get his attention. "A-HEM."
Hearing this, an extremely embarrassed Obi-Wan quickly ripped his eyes away from Nahlia and faced forward without saying a word.
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Elsewhere, Narcime Venu spoke nervously to a small, yet intimidating, holographic image of Darth Maul. "Yes, Mr. M., sir. My people have acquired a Jedi subject I should have the piece ready for your Master very soon."
"Very good." Maul's red and black face remained as grim as ever. "I will contact you in a few days time about retrieving the artwork. My Master was most pleased with the previous piece you sent."
"Ahh... the girl." Venu nodded approvingly. "A most brilliant piece, was it not? Tell me, where did your Master place the statue? In a well lit, focal point of his abode I hope."
"My Master has given it to a 'friend'." Maul explained with a mysterious smirk. "It is there he feels the piece will get the attention it deserves."
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Back on Coruscant, Senator Fantui arrived at his spacious suite. All day, the disappearance of his daughter had weighed heavily on his mind. As he walked out onto his terrace, and watched the early evening traffic pass by, he ran the events of recent weeks over and over in his mind.
There had still been no ransom demand, no demand for political favors in exchange for his daughter's life. This, to Fantui, left only one other thing that the kidnappers could possibly want - revenge. In truth, the senator's enemies in the Galactic Senate numbered as many as his allies. His strong connection to the rich Trade Federation, and close friendship with Chancellor Valorum, gave him power over many more systems than his own. This power both drew power hungry senators to him, asking for favors, and created enemies of those he took power from. Fantui was well aware however, that even among his allies dangerous rivals could be lurking.
A tall thin humanoid servant approached him hesitantly. "Sir?"
Fantui let out an annoyed sigh. "Yes?"
"There is something in the drawing room that I believe you should see."
Fantui glowered back at the servant but decided to follow him into his elegantly furnished drawing room as requested. The senator's scowl quickly turned to shock as he recognized the extremely lifelike statue in the center of the room - it was his daughter. "What? Where did this come from?! Who sent this?!"
"It was delivered today, there was no information on who sent it." The servant answered. He shuddered as he looked over the statue. "It looks so real."
As Fantui looked at the desperate facial expression on the statue, anger and his own anguish over his missing daughter washed over him. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" He roared at his servant. "I want it out of here, do you hear me?"
"Y-yes sir," the flustered servant answered. "But what do you want me to do with it?"
"I don't care. I don't want to see it again." Fantui fumed. "Just get rid of it! Have it destroyed immediately!"
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Elsewhere on Coruscant, Darth Sidious stood meditating in his chambers. Sensing his diabolical trick on Senator Fantui had gone as planned, a low chuckle escaped his lips as he muttered. "A particularly cruel joke indeed..."
TO BE CONTINUED...
