Of course Sanya recognized him, even in his slightly less inebriated state on the deck of her ship. He was the bastard she had sent packing from the brothel over a month ago. She should have known he wouldn't accept the the insult of being bested by a girl lightly.
Her lookout had seen seen the other craft approaching but the Bloody Galia was more than up to the challenge of another battle. And they had the time to prepare as the two vessels came up alongside one another.
Aye, she recognized him as soon as he boarded but she wasn't looking at his face just now. She was too distracted by the blaster he had leveled at her chest.
A blaster of all things?! No self respecting Onderonian would carry a blaster! Well maybe the southerners when they forced the beast riders out of the city. A blaster was a coward's weapon, completely without the honor of a face to face battle with a blade.
Sanya Harkon would certainly never lower herself to use such a thing but that didn't mean she'd ever trained to face up to one. It was a small thing, probably only powered with one shot before it had to be recharged. But one shot is all it would take at this range if she didn't think of something quickly.
She did the first thing that came into her head and lunged straight at him. She felt the searing heat blaze past her right side as she buried her knife up to the hilt in his chest. If she had done it when they met before, this never would have happened.
Salt gods! The wound in her side burned like fire but she wasn't about to show weakness in front of her crew. "Just grazed me," she waved off her quartermaster's worried frown. They'd won the day. That's all that mattered.
…
Sanya took a gulp of the pint of ale. It was better quality than most of what she was able to get. Most barkeepers gave her their least potent varieties even when she threatened them. Here though she knew the madam. After she and Korina had become friends when Sanya helped her out, and Sanya had promised to only let her crew frequent this particular establishment when they were in the small port, the petite captain got a tab at the bar just like any of her men.
She had never imagined that she would be sitting at a table alone at a brothel drinking on her 15th birthday. She hadn't told the crew that the day was today. They were happy enough celebrating a successful raid and the shore leave it afforded them. They had grown used to seeing their young captain belly up to the bar for a drink but there were other crews who weren't so comfortable with her presence.
Not like they could really tell she was a girl with her trousers and boots, longcoat and hat pulled down low over her eyes. Not to mention her chest that was only recently beginning to strain against her fishing leathers. Still she had started to gain a little notoriety for her piracy. They knew who she was when they saw her supposedly dozing off her alcohol buzz and waiting for her crew to finish their carousing.
She was never sleeping though. She was watching, not the way the girls plied their trade seducing the sailors into their beds. Sanya was watching the men. She couldn't see herself caring much for any of them romantically or otherwise, but she wanted to see how they chose their partners. They appraised the whores like they were judging the freshness of a catch down at the docks.
As much as Sanya abhorred the idea she knew that if the other captains and crews were going to take her seriously she was going to have to start acting more like them. They already knew she was deadly with any manner of blades. She still had to prove to them that she wasn't just a little girl playing at their game. Tonight she planned to add a new layer to her legend and she was going to do it on her own terms.
She took another sip of her liquid courage while several members of new crew entered and found seats at tables or at the bar. Sanya took her time to study each man while they filled their bellies before moving on to other activities. She counted out immediately the old one, the one who had already downed four beers and was working on his fifth, and the one who pulled one of the girls down onto his lap and already had his hand down the front of her dress before his food was put before him.
The young one was also not an option. He looked like he had less experience than Sanya did herself, ogling the cleavage of the whore who crooned at him and called him her little man. No, he would never do.
Then her eyes fell on a sailor sitting on a barstool regaling anyone who would listen with a story of an event that had supposedly occurred on their last voyage. Only it hadn't. Sanya had heard the story before. It was an old one actually but this man told it with more flare.
He had gained quite an audience but Sanya feigned indifference. That is until his food arrived and he ended the tale so that he could fill his mouth. He had been eyeing the girls so Sanya knew the storytelling was partially for their benefit. He did intend on spending the night with one of them tonight but he wouldn't if Sanya had her way.
She knocked back the last of her drink and stood still firm on her feet. A few people glanced her direction surprised that she had moved from her favorite spot. She inserted a bit of swagger into her step. She didn't go straight to the man at the bar. Instead she stopped next to the muscled sailor she knew to be the bosun of that other crew. She gave his bicep a squeeze and whistled appreciatively. She had seen the men evaluating the merchandise in a similar fashion. He was good looking but he wasn't what she was looking for.
Someone laughed but she ignored it and moved on. As she passed the young sailor she gave him a pitying shake of her head. "Need something that's gonna last a bit longer."
She had a few more observers now but the storyteller hadn't seemed to have noticed her yet. She leaned against the bar next to him pulled her favorite knife from her belt tossed it up and caught it by the blade.
He turned towards her finished chewing a mouthful of meat and swallowed before he spoke. "Can I help you?"
"I think maybe you can." With the blade of her knife still between her fingers she used the hilt to lift the front hem of his shirt and check out his abbs. She gave him an impressed nod. "Mmm. What do they call you?"
He raised an eyebrow in confusion and looked around at the audience their exchange had gathered. "Beskar," he answered her, finally. "Johnny Beskar."
"Beskar." she repeated as if tasting the name. "How would you feel about making a few credits tonight rather than spending them on one of these fine ladies?"
In a low voice he leaned towards her and whispered. "Is there some reason you feel the need to pay for company?"
She was expecting something of the sort but she just gave him a nod and a self assured smile and removed her hat. Her red hair fell in waves almost to her waist. Her fine ladylike features that she generally tried to hide were clear in the light of the brylk oil lanterns. She was not too ugly to get a date by regular means. "Do you know who I am?"
"If I didn't know any better I would say you fit the description of Sanya "the knife" Harkon."
" Captain Harkon, if you don't mind. And I simply plan on rewarding a job well done, that is if you're up to it, Mr. Beskar?" she traced the hilt of her knife along his strong jaw line.
He smiled. "Captain, I believe you have found your man."
She gestured toward the stairs and waited for him to go up ahead of her. Letting him stay a few paces ahead, she made a show of enjoying the sight of his rear end as he climbed toward the bedrooms. Bawdy cheers and comments followed them.
He crossed right to the bed, pulled off his jacket and started to remove his boots, evidently intent on earning the credits she had promised. She closed the door and leaned back against it with a sigh of relief that she had made it this far.
He looked up at her inquisitively. "What is it exactly that you'd like me to do for you?" He asked. He didn't see her cross the room as he drew his shirt off over his head as well.
She surprised him with the blade at his throat to replace his collar. "What you can do for me is convince them out there that you fulfilled my every kriffing desire better than any man I've ever been with."
He coughed and then gave her a tight smile, raising his arms slightly in surrender. "And may I assume by convince them you mean that's not what will be happening in this room tonight."
She shrugged but didn't lower her weapon. "They know I can kill but they still treat me like a little girl. They gotta believe I can kriff too."
"But you don't wish too… you never have. You're still a…"
She pressed the blade harder against his neck threatening. "If you can make 'em believe it, you'll be well compensated. If we can't come to an agreement, I already told you my secret. I'll have to kill you."
"Well, that makes my decision much easier doesn't it." He smiled at her again and with a question in his eyes, tentatively pushed her hand holding the weapon a few centimeters away so that he could swallow and take a breath. "Do you think we might be able to have this conversation without you menacing me with your blade?"
She looked him over. Sanya had seen plenty of men with their shirts off on her father's ships, among her own crew and others that she had fought with or sailed beside. Johnny Beskar's chest was very nice but that was beside the point. "Aye," she agreed and returned the knife to her belt.
"There now, that's much better." He rubbed his throat and nodded gratefully to her. "Your reputation does proceed you, Captain. I know that you and your crew have successfully pulled in several substantial prizes in the short time you have been marauding."
"Aye."
"And if you chose to do so you could make me a very rich man."
"Or a very dead one," she reminded him.
"Aye." He agreed with another nervous smile. "That goes without saying." His expression was thoughtful for a moment. "Might as well…" he picked up his shirt and put it on then stood and started pacing.
Sanya stayed out of his way with her arms crossed over her chest.
"So, you want me to start a rumor that you paid me for a kriff?"
"Aye. And that you weren't my first," she added.
"I'm sorry." He stopped pacing and shook his head. "But why though? You could have any man you wanted. You're a beautiful girl, when you're not all covered up with the hat and hiding behind your knives."
She looked away from him. "You really think I'd want to spend my first time on some kriffer I just randomly met in some Dxun of a pub?" The Lady she was trying desperately to not to be, shown through her words for the briefest moment. "I want that to be with somebody special." She hardened again. "But if they know they can take that from me, they're gonna sure as Dxun try it."
"But if it gets around that your virginity is no longer a card to be played and that you have taken control of your own sexuality…?"
Sanya nodded.
"It's smart. I never would have thought of it. Of course I never had the need." He was a man. The social expectations of the planet were weighted in his favor.
"Alright." Beskar clapped his hands together as if to get down to business. "What is it exactly that we're supposed to have done this evening?"
"Kriffed if I know." Was her ironic answer. To which, he smiled.
"How about this?" he described an act to her that made her eyes widen and her cheeks go as red as her hair.
"People really do that?" she asked, innocently horrified.
He didn't ridicule her for her lack of knowledge. "I'm told some women enjoy it very much."
"Have you ever…" she began but then stopped herself. "Alright fine. We did that, or are doing that I suppose."
"If only you could get a tattoo or something." He mused.
"A tattoo?"
"Some sort of distinguishing feature that not many people had the opportunity to see. If I were to tell people that you had such a thing and then… a ship's doctor or a crew member who accidentally walks in on you dressing. Someone could see it and then corroborate my story that I had seen such a thing while we were… kriffing."
"Well, I have a birthmark."
"You have a…"
"It's…" she dithered in indecision for a minute "My parents said it's how they used to tell my sister and I apart when we were babies."
Sanya doffed her longcoat, loosed her belt, turned her back to him, and dropped her pants to show him the mark on the left cheek of her shebs.
"Th-that's perfect." He said after a moment's silence.
She glanced over her shoulder at him incredulously. "You really think so?"
He didn't look up to her eyes, choosing instead to continue studying her backside. "Something that your family is aware of but no one else would have much opportunity to see." Finally he met her gaze with a bit of a guilty grin and tried to return to a more studious expression. "You know it's shaped a bit like…"
"Blackhold Isle." She finished along with him and sighed. "My grandmother said it was an omen." She started to pull up her breeches. "You really think it'll help, now that you've seen it?"
"And I'll be able to inform them with all honesty that under your leathers you are a very beautiful woman."
Flustered she worked harder to get her pants cinched in place and her belt fastened. As she did the hem of her shirt raised slightly revealing a makeshift bandage that pulled away from an angry red and scorched patch of skin, on the right side of her ribs and waist. She winced as she pulled the shirt back down over it but not before he noticed something oozing from the wound that was not at all a healthy color.
"How long have you had that?" He stepped towards her on instinct, full of concern.
She backed off, hand going to the hilt of her knife. "It was a blaster shot during the fight to get our last prize. It's nothing really."
"That's not nothing. It needs bacta."
Sanya shook her head, hand tightening on her weapon.
He thought he understood why she didn't want to be seen by a ship's surgeon. Lifting his hands to prove he meant no harm, he said gently. "If you and I were together, it's not a thing I would be likely to miss."
She thought about that and then changed the subject back to the matter at hand. "What else do we need to do to… convince them that we did… are doing… what you said?"
He could set the matter of her wound aside for the moment but he wasn't about to let it go completely. Her reputation wouldn't matter a bit if she died from an infected blaster shot. But she was right, they had been up here for a while now and the audience below would be expecting something to have started. "Well, we should probably be making a bit more noise."
As if to illustrate his point, an impassioned cry rang out from the other side of the thin wall that separated them from the next room. A groan of pleasure followed and then the rhythmic creaking of bed springs.
She couldn't look at him while their neighbors escalated in volume to their climax, so it was a complete shock when after they had quieted Johnny Beskar leaped onto the bed and cried out loudly, "Oh Captain!" The frame complained at his sudden weight and the brass headboard bumped sharply against the wall.
Sanya stared up at him with wide eyes and he held out his hand to her. "Don't tell me you and your sister never got in trouble for jumping on the bed?" He smiled a playful invitation.
It took her a few seconds to shed her boots but then she took his hand and joined him in standing on the bed. A jump of her own produced much more disappointing results since she couldn't have weighed much more than a belaying pin sopping wet. Still she was able to produce a rather lusty moan of, "Jooohnny!" that seemed to leave the rest of the building in an expectant hush.
Together in unspoken agreement they jumped again, hand in hand. They both cried out wordlessly and the headboard again knocked against the wall. They jumped again and there was a murmur from the crews downstairs.
"Faster?" Sanya whispered and then in sudden inspiration cried out, "Faster Johnny!"
He grinned at her, "Aye aye, Ma'am."
They jumped and danced and grunted and groaned like a couple of savages. And then with a nod they took one last jump, one last exclamation to kriffing Dxun and the salt gods, they crashed down together on the bed. The old bed frame couldn't take it and smashed to floor.
Sanya rolled towards him on the now slanted mattress and Beskar caught her in his arms. There was a moment of silence and then a loud cheer from the assembled crews in the dining room below. She laughed and he smiled and then his gaze wandered from her eyes down to her lips. But that was exactly what she had been attempting to avoid by all this.
Awkwardly she extricated herself from the wreckage and stood. Her hand went to her injured side and she bit back a yelp of pain.
He must have known that the topic wasn't up for discussion so instead he asked her. "Would you like me to get you a drink?"
"Aye," she answered through gritted teeth.
He thought for a moment about the best way to present himself and tore off his shirt before he made his way out the door. He pretended to be just tying up the front of his trousers as he descended the stairs and looked around unconcernedly at the eager audience. "What?"
"So you popped the Captain's muja!" a voice yelled out of the crowd.
Mr. Beskar frowned at the crass turn of phrase. "No, but if you are aware of who she bestowed that honor upon, I'd like to shake his hand."
More laughter and cheers followed and a few hands patted him on the back as he attempted to cross the room to the bar.
"And you're some kind of whore now!" called out another man. This voice Beskar knew as a member of his own crew who had never liked him.
The madam, Korina, shared a knowing glance with Mr. Beskar and saved him from answering to that. "I'll be taking my cut from whatever she's paying you for the repair or replacement of the bed you broke."
There was a roar of laughter and most of the patrons and their entertainers when back to their drinks.
Korina herself met Johnny at the bar and filled two glasses for him. "So you satisfied what she asked of you?" The madam asked him.
It wasn't a surprise to him that she was fully aware of what happened or didn't happen in her establishment. "I tried. Guess I still have some work to do to spread the tale as she wishes."
"It'll keep her safer, them seeing her as an equal." She muttered for his ears only.
"I hope so," he agreed honestly. Then he turned to her remembering his other concern. "Do you have any bacta?"
"Aye." she looked at him curiously. "She didn't cut you to get you to agree to the plan?"
He shook his head. "No. It's not for me. She's got a nasty blaster burn that she's too proud to get treated. I was hoping she'd let me see to it."
"You go on up with the drinks. I'll come up in a bit with some fresh linens and to survey the damage to my property. We'll see if we can't convince her together."