Ask Getting Off This Rock

[Milo Corr]

The tiefling's words rattled around in his head and for the briefest of moments that dull expression returned. Zira wanted to be a slave, to remain in bondage to whomever held her collar. It was as though every time he went to draw a card from a deck it came up blank. "What."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing, his arms articulating in vague and unknowing way as though to non-verbally argue with her yet no words graced his lips despite the phantoms they formed. Milo wasted precious seconds and as Gulpo stirred not only himself but the crowd, that panicked expression returned. Hastily, he stashed the device away and snapped back at her. "We'll discuss this later, but I'm not kriffin' selling you. Let's get out of here-" Without a verbal command he motioned for her to get in front of him as he looked over his shoulder, pointing towards the kitchen which was bustling with occupied chefs and servants.

"Go," the vagabond hissed, not in the commanding tone of an angry master but of an anxious wreck. His previous thoughts concerning credits faded to mist, now he had a new problem, one which should never have been his choice to make in the first place. He had too many morals to sell the woman, but neither did he want a slave. Were there foundations for such things, rehabilitating the enslaved? Even if there were, how in the world was he going to get her to one? How did citizenship work with such things, and the senate-

Milo's head hurt even considering it all, and they had yet to even escape. The staff would spot the two of them leaving as plain as day but he made an attempt to hide her from the crowd at their back by widening his form and raising his head. The addict continued to twitch but what other option did he have? Hopefully the security was just as distracted by the latest performance as they were with Zira.

A sweaty hand continued to rest against the waistline of his pants, lifting every few seconds to reach for something behind him only to find itself back in place. What had he gotten himself into? He wasn't a hero, protector, or jedi, just a needy write-off. So why was he running off with a slave? "What the fuck am I doing," he muttered to himself, wearing a haunted look. "I'm so fucking dead."

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

This guy was so confusing that it was starting to frustrate Zira. Now he didn’t want to sell her? What the hell? She didn’t bother arguing his flawed logic, picking up on his cue to shuffle towards the kitchen before they got into more trouble. Along the way, she grabbed a knife and stashed it within the folds of her dancer outfit.

“Hey… what are you guys-” One of the busboys began to ask as he spotted the two. Before he could finish, Zira lowered her head and slammed the blunt top of her horned head into his face. The man fell backwards on the ground without a sound, knocked out cold. Zira glanced back at Sandy and gave a nonchalant shrug.

They progressed through the kitchen easily enough before she spotted the back door that led them out to where the cooks threw out the trash. Zira glanced at Sandy now and then, spotting him completely tweaking out. She opened the door and slinked out, both of them out in a foul smelling alley lined with garbage.

“This way,” Zira said, leading them out of the alley and away from the manor entirely. She purposely took them towards a very busy and crowded street where no one could pick them out. Before long, they became just another set of faces among a sea of them. Well, except for Zira’s very flashy belly dancer attire.

“Hey,” She said as she turned to regard her new Master, “Are you all right?” Zira asked as her hand reached out and gently rested against Sandy’s chest, “We can..go somewhere private and I can make you feel better, Master,” She suggested, her tone sultry as she gazed at him. The implications in her voice were clear. After all, it was routine for her new Masters to try her out in all the ways they pleased. It was part of her job description. It was the only life she knew.

@Cartoonkarl

 

[Milo Corr]

Milo gaped at Zira's effectiveness, taking out the servant with a quick headbutt and seemingly none the worse for it, only to as act though it was just a casual thing she could do. Normal. The palms of his hands met his forehead as that odd mixture of dismay and and acceptance colored his visage. Yet it was all for naught, despite her attention-grabbing dress and his utter meltdown, nothing seemed to come of it. No footrace , no security. Had it really been that easy?

His jitters began to settle as the stress of the situation passed and he followed the slave into the calming presence of a crowd, something he was familiar with... Only for them to light anew when her hand softly found him. Just as with the Arkanian, the addict stared with eyes as wide as Teta's red moon. "W-what?" The vagrant was like a broken recording, playing the same word over and over. It was impossible to not glance over the Tiefling, and for a flicker of a second it almost looked as though he was considering her offer before that same queasy disgust washed over him. Milo looked as though he were about to vomit, luckily his stomach was empty. "Stop calling me that, I'm not- Just-" He lifted a hand to take her wrist and feebly remove it from him before continuing to walk in the crowd, taking the lead.

Clutching his arms to his stomach tightly he marched, compressing his form down in a wretched manner. With all the tension the injuries he had sustained reacted to his tightening muscles, particularly the fist he had received to the gut. "Just call me Milo," he offered, not quite catching his bearings but striding far more stably than before. "Do you have a name?"

Even in his state he took them between intersecting crowds like a master, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that Zira was close while never straying too far ahead. It didn't take long for them to reach their destination. Curiously they had never transitioned a level, Milo knew his way around parts of the city.

Empress Teta's ventilation units were large, once built during the boom of the planet's mining operation to ensure that no part of the ecumenopolis was filled with the dust of that dirty work while also cycling the carbon dioxide produced by its inhabitants. Yet with so many, and the technology being so old, it was too large an infrastructure project and unprofitable to tackle. It was through the door of one of these units that he waved Zira into, beyond a wall of many once spinning blades, and into a maintenance room.

There would be no eyes here, hopefully. Dust coated everything, the shelves were empty, and the consoles and readouts were both broken and stripped of anything mildly valuable. Behind one of these consoles Milo reached in and drew out his stained jacket, dusting it out with a few quick sweeps in the air before slipping his arms into it. He let out a relieved sigh. It had been cleaned but still looked just as shabby, contrasting with the fine vest and pants he wore. "There," he declared as he removed the tie from his hair, "Now we can talk."

Twin orbs, sharpened with accusation, leveled upon Zira. "Was that your plan from the start?"

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

Zira’s eyes widened in surprise when he moved her hand away and looked disgusted, “Do you find me unsatisfactory?” She asked, the tinge of fear unmistakable in her voice. A Master that found a pleasure slave unappealing was the most terrifying thing ever. She suddenly began to internally panic. Would he kill her? Would he cast her aside like trash? Would he abandon her? She was soon externally panicking, her tail flicking erratically as her eyes expressed terror.

She said nothing when he abruptly requested to be called Milo. By his name? Zira couldn’t disobey commands, so she would do as told, “O-Okay..Milo..” She muttered, still horrified at the prospect of him finding her displeasing and therefore expendable. The tiefling quietly followed Milo, the fear never quite leaving her eyes. When he asked about her name she almost tripped while walking from surprise, “Um.. Zira..”

When he turned on her with an accusatory look, she shrank back, almost cowering away from him, “I-I…assumed you would sell me, Mas- Milo..” She corrected, fumbling over her words and terrified. She half expected him to strike her, chewing nervously on her lip as she gazed at the ground. She waited for the blow to land, but it never did, “You would have had to go to a fence to pawn anything you stole from the manor..” She said, her voice low as she kept her gaze on the ground, “Selling me would have earned you direct cash easily without any authorities chasing you…” Zira’s fists curled into her sweaty palms, dread filling her, “I have made a grave mistake. I am prepared for whatever punishment you deem fit for my insolence, Milo,” She said.

@Cartoonkarl

 

[Milo Corr]

The tiefling's answers were about as settling as stones in his stomach. "No! those are items, things! Not people!" While his tone was raised that voice lost all suspicion and assertions. "Insolence- What? No no no!" Flabbergasted he looked around the room for nothing in particular before stuffing his hand into the pocket of his jacket and feeling the familiar crinkling of a wrapped nutrition bar. Artificially flavored and calorie dense, cheap, and with that trademark staleness that only came from that particular manufactured good. His stomach rumbled as he drew it out and began to unwrap it, snapping it in half and holding it out to her. A poor gift but one that far outclassed any sort of slap or assault.

The vagrant's volume softened and that same pity from their time in the alley returned. "I'm not gonna punish you either, what do you think I am, some sort of monster? I can live with the authorities, have before, but I can't live with my guilt. It's already got too much on its plate." Then, holding up a hand, he reiterated. "You're very pretty, Zira, but I'm not that sort of man." He wasn't much of a man at all but that was besides the point, his greed and this savior complex was going to get him into all sorts of trouble.

"You didn't do anything wrong, if anything you did what I would expect any slave to do but for the sake of freedom, not changing masters." The vagrant ran a hand through his hair, what was likely one of his many tells beyond the twitching of need which was now only witnessed with the moving of his left middle finger. He chewed on his half of the bar, continually at a loss. "All I wanted was enough credits to get off this planet, and extra to set up somewhere nice," there was a slight hint that it wasn't the whole truth with how he shrugged. Were that the case he could have left Empress Teta long ago with earnings of the past. "Have you never gone somewhere of your own accord? Either way I can't just sell you. Isn't right, for you or for me."

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

Zira stared at Milo, completely perplexed, as he went through a series of emotional outbursts and explanations. It was like watching Holonet and flipping through channels rapidly. She could only stare in stunned silence as he offered her half a granola bar at some point during his theater. Zira stared at the stale snack and decided to take a bite to avoid offending him.

“If I do wrong, I deserve punishment,” She said simply, baffled that he thought he was a monster because of it. She had only known strict rules when it came to wrongdoing and punishment and Milo was confusing the hell out of her. When he asked if she had ever gone anywhere of her own accord, Zira shook her head.

“I have always been a slave for as long as I remember,” Zira explained, “I was sold into the pleasure slave industry and have been that ever since. I developed performing and dancing as a talent to make my Masters money, but I serve to please my Masters otherwise,” She said, “I can make you money quite easily through performing. I am a slave so it’s not like I keep the money,” Zira said, “Masters provide their slaves with food and shelter,” She explained, “Though my last few made me sleep outside,” She said with a grimace.

Zira glanced over the city, “Why would you want to leave? This planet is beautiful and full of opportunities. Where would you go anyway?” She was getting carried away. She had never had a Master that asked her questions or actually engage her in conversation. Zira quickly shut up, remaining silent unless he had more to ask, “Thank you for the food, Milo,” She said as she finished her half of the granola bar.

She thought for a moment before she spoke again, “There is a man named Rashir down in the lower city districts,” Zira began, “He was looking for someone to smuggle spice from here to Hutt space. If…you are adamantly against using me to make credits for you, that can be a route for you,” She quirked a brow as she looked at him, “But..um..you can’t use the spice yourself obviously…”

@Cartoonkarl

 

[Milo Corr]

"You didn't do wrong," the first half of his statement coming out as a snap before shifting to a gentler tone as he hopped up onto a broken console to eat, listening to her story. Wincing at each detail he found displeasing, which was all of it. When she began to ask him questions he shifted uncomfortably, even though the answer was obvious enough, the slave tiefling even going as far to imply it in concern to him using smuggled spice. He shook his head.

"With what ship, and before you recommend another hairbrained idea, no I'm not stealing a ship. I don't even know how to pilot one." He rubbed his temple for a moment as he considered what their next step was. "You're welcome by the way, and the reason I want to leave is because I've been here all my life. It's not all glamour, and the opportunities I need are elsewhere. But I suppose that doesn't exactly matter right now, given the situation." Eating the last of his bar he crushed the wrapper and stuffed it away before running the palm of his hand under the sleeves of his left forearm to scratch at a patchwork of needle marks.

"I don't know what is worse, the fact that you don't recognize all the wrong things done to your or the fact that you want to prolong them. Either way I'm not just gonna pawn you off, got it? Don't exactly want you on another's leash either." This was going to be a difficult few... Few what? He didn't even know. "Can I at least take the collar off, you can still pretend to be a slave without it, would feel a hell of a lot better without having to carry the remote around."

"Can you do anything other than... Well... 'Entertaining'?" Milo threw her a vague gesture, leaning back until his spine touched the wall. "Because I'm thinking the best course of action is selling those earrings of yours, getting tickets, and fleeing before anyone is the wiser. I can't promise much better than holes in the wall like this though, I'm not exactly a... Man of means." He motioned around himself as if to state that he lived in places such as these. "Can you handle that? After all that, who knows what comes next."

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

Zira stared calmly as Milo snapped at her, followed by suggesting she had hairbrained ideas. In truth, she was used to being undermined by her prior Masters. Milo may have thinly veiled it with the illusion of a moral compass, but they were all the same in her eyes. She stayed silent and let him voice his own ideas, nodding along and agreeing with whatever he suggested.

“You are my Master, you may do whatever you wish with me,” She said simply as he asked if he could take the collar off. It was an odd arrangement, but she wouldn’t question him. Once he took the collar off, it felt strange. She almost felt naked without it, her hand rubbing along her neck that had a purple imprint on blue skin from having the collar on so long. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this, but the Master was always right.

“I can cook, steal….kill if needed,” Zira added as she looked at him, “Milo, you don’t need to pretend to be a good guy with me,” She said dryly, “I know my place in the galaxy and I’m content with it. Can you say the same?” Zira asked, watching him tweaking.

“No one gets anything by being a hero,” She said as she waited for him to start walking. Once he did, she walked with him. There was a market with tons of stalls and crowds where her jewelry could be pawned. Once they approached the pawn stall, the Gamorrean behind the stall stared at Zira for a long moment. His gaze flicked down to her neck, saw the imprint and familiar pattern and looked over to Milo, “Selling her? I got a Hutt that’d love to have her,” He said gruffly.

Zira stayed silent. However, if Milo went to sell her earrings, she would let him do that while pretending to check out the Gamorrean’s wares. The pig would start a little haggle war with Milo which bought her time. Zira’s tail snaked behind the stall and jerked back as she snatched something into her hand. Milo, of course, would have no idea and likely feel as if he was ripped off from selling the earrings.

As they stepped away from the Gamorrean, Zira opened her palm and dropped some keys into Milo’s hand, “On the bright side, we now have a speeder,” She said simply.

@Cartoonkarl

 

[Milo Corr]

Pretend to be a good guy. Zira's monolog hit him like a punch in the face, and he had suffered a couple just earlier. Milo wasn't a hero, she was right, just another pitiable reject that dwelled underneath the sterile beauty of Teta's spires. That was the root, however, of his current quandary. Not just with the slave but with his entire life, would he accept his place in the galaxy or just return to the stim den? He continued to scratch that itch and looked all the more ill as they walked, the nutrition bar having done nothing to settle his stomach.

Along the way he tossed the collar and remote into the most available dumpster, hiding it under trash in the hopes that no one stumbled upon it. When ever he set eyes on her he gave a grave, pained expression, still stung. "No, just these. She's mine," he declared with a strange apathy as he began to haggle. Given his more cleaned up appearance there was less of an attempt to swindle him but truly haggle, still it didn't go well for Milo who wasn't much of a fast talker, and as you don't play dejarik with wookies, neither do you haggle with gamorreans. "Bah, damn roba," he muttered under his mouth as they departed. Opening his hands to ensure that he wasn't swindled a pair of keys plopped into his palm.

Milo blinked, staring dumbly at them before lifting his head to stare at Zira then back down at the keys. Mouth open in a manner befitting someone who was lost rather than a dullard. Without a question he looked around for the speeder. It wasn't far. A bulky and durable, covered in dents and painted a faded grey with an open top. The windshield was cracked. About as uninteresting as its owner. "For a slave you take quite a few liberties, Zira. You sure you aren't already living a life for yourself?"

Circling the speeder he got into the passenger side with a dour look, holding the keys for the tiefling to take. "If you can do all that other stuff you can probably do this too, no?" As with the party they only had moments before the show owner noticed them taking his ride yet he was acting strangely casual, where before he was readable now only his his left middle finger twitched. "Start us up and get us on the main thoroughfare, it's only a few kilometeres from nearest rise, from there we'll head to the starport."

Whether Zira or Milo ended up driving, the speeder kicked to life with a sputter and heavy rumble and as the squealing of the gamorrean serenaded their ears as he was left in the dust. All levels of Empress Teta flowed into a crisscross spiderweb of traffic lanes centered around the great tunnels which lead to the surface, oftentimes the pits of old Mining Guild operations which the city built around. They were often plagued by traffic and the one they merged onto was no different.

The air was relatively clean as a noticeable breeze blew through the wide tunnels and for once the acrid stench of oil or refuse was replaced by something relatively crisp. "You know, that hurt," he began, shifting in his seat uncomfortably as he sat upon the injector. "I'm not trying to be melodramatic, but I don't think anyone has has ever hit me as hard as you did. For a second there I thought I was the insane one," he was babbling, mostly coherently. "You should taste more of the galaxy's fruit before you decide to remain at its roots, in the dirt. That is why I'm leaving, to be something other than this," he tugged at his jacket.

Big words for an addict sitting on his next hit, a bit arrogant, but empathizing. He was in his own kind of dirt, and it wasn't much, if any, higher than hers. Or perhaps he was truly wrong.

Ten minutes had passed and while they had moved it was at a far slower pace than the vagrant would have like. Yet as the rise grew in the stance, two curious vehicles appeared in the mirrors. Colorful with gaudy paint in the patterns of alien characters intermingled with exaggerated aurebesh and various fearsome yet foreign animals, two souped up speeders hum closer. Like stalking wolves their approach was careful at first, observing their prey, getting as close as they could before disturbing their prey.

They were gangers, well paid ones at that, with one goal and one target in mind. A certain disappearing slave with a rather large price tag. Zira was still wearing that outfit and was easy to spot in crowd, and their antics with the pawn broker weren't exactly subtle. Given their local nature there could be no doubt as to who had bought them, a certain twi'lek wanted his prize, and if they rode with blatantly painted vehicles they were either bold, stupid, or well equipped. Likely all three if they were going to attempt to catch them mid flight. As Milo tilted his head to peer into the mirror, catching sight of one of the speeders he glanced away, only to glance back with sudden worry. "Uh, Zira?" And then they pounced, engines roaring.

Down here there would be no security to bail them out, there was only one way to go and that was towards the rising tunnels. Between traffic, stationary vehicles, the loose starship, and illegal build outs, perilous was an understatement if one was going any faster than a leisurely pace.

If things couldn't get any worse two more of the vibrant speeders pulled ahead of them, one tall and boxy with a pair of doors hiding some sort of surprise inside, yet for the moment seemed content to act as a blocker, attempting to get in their to force them to slow down or fatally crash.

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

Take a few liberties? Zira stared at him in wonder, “I thought you wanted a way out of here,” She said, “I do what’s needed to fulfill my Masters’ goals,” She cast him a sideways glance, “No matter what it takes,” Zira added.

She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes when he insisted that she drive, “So what are you good at..Milo?” She dared to ask. After all, he was terrible at pickpocketing, didn’t know how to fly a ship, didn’t know how to get his drug habits in control. What was he good at? Zira had been asked to drive and do other mundane tasks for Masters, so she had no problem revving up the speeder and taking over.

As they drove and Milo addressed their dialogue exchange earlier, Zira’s brows rose, “I apologize, Mas- Milo,” She said, “I did not intend to hurt you,” She said, silently mortified. However, she felt a bit more reassured that he wouldn’t strike her for doing such a thing, “I will make sure to avoid voicing my opinions,” Zira promised, deciding that the usual route of staying silent was the best one.

She simply nodded and agreed with whatever he said after that. Milo would learn soon enough how difficult it was to navigate conversation with a slave that was conditioned to always believe the Master was correct. It was decades of conditioning that couldn’t be undone so easily.

Before long, they had speeders on their tail. Zira cursed herself for not thinking about changing out of her clothing. After all, she was not used to thinking for herself. This was a new world that frightened her. Milo was not doing the thinking for her and she had to improvise.

As the speeder pulled out in front of them, Zira slammed on the brakes, “Hold on, Milo,” She said simply as she placed an arm along the spine of their seats and looked over her shoulder. Without warning, she zoomed backwards, steering without looking forward as she navigated the speeder in complete reverse. She slid back into an alley, continuing to drive backwards and ignoring the confused looks of passerby as she zoomed past them. As a result, she was given a headstart on the chase where the other speeders couldn’t turn around fast enough. The sudden duck into the alley caused two of their chasers to crash into one another.

After she shot out of the alley, Zira spun the speeder around to face forward again, slamming on the thrust to propel them forward at full speed. Their speeder was unremarkable in appearance, which was the only positive thing about this whole situation. Zira drove towards some of the more posh districts where she knew the speeders wouldn’t dare meddle. Even the twi’lek wasn’t that stupid.

After zig-zagging through traffic, Zira eventually came to a stop in an empty parking bay near a warehouse. She was trembling from the whole experience, glancing over her shoulder, “I think we lost them,” She said, practically panting, “Listen, I need to borrow your clothes,” Zira said suddenly, “Can I wear your jacket?” She asked urgently as she stepped out of the speeder to change.

Before she could speak further, a single speeder pulled up near them. Two men hopped out, one armed with a bat and another with a knife, “You’ve gone far enough,” One of them said, “Time to come with us.”

Zira had missed this speeder during their escape - it must have been sent after the initial group. There was no one else around but these two goons. The tiefling felt trapped.

“Please tell me you know how to fight,” She quietly pleaded with Milo.

@Cartoonkarl

 

[Milo Corr]

"Not much," he admitted when he let her drive, why he had her drive despite his unwillingness to have her as his slave was just another confusing conundrum added to the pile. Yet he never had time to correct his statement before the gangers were on them.

Zira's driving left the vagrant awestruck, despite being glued to the corner of his seat and the wall of the speeder, gripping onto the handles as though it would offer him any protection as Zira demonstrated her expert ability to drive. What did they teach these slaves, maybe she is better off than he is? He couldn't stop himself from wooping when he caught a glance of the two vehicles smashed into one another yet remained afloat. "Fuck, Zira!" It was a cheer.

When the speeder did come to a stop minutes later in a parking garage the vagrant peeled his sweaty hands from the speeder and scrambled out yet adrenaline had replaced nausea and instead of puking Milo threw his hands up into the air in idiotic victory. "Kriff- Where did you learn to drive like that," he started, enthusiastically nodding as he tore off his jacket and tossed it to her, only to slowly turn around and spot the menacing humans.

It took him a handful of seconds to comprehend their very existence, even if he understood their words. "Oh fuck."

"Nope," he muttered a reply quickly, heart beginning to thunder like a droid factory. He should run, they needed to run, but with speeders there was no other option, they would have been caught. Milo stuffed his hands into his back pockets, drawing out an injector in one hand and a stunner in the other. Milo couldn't fight but he did have one advantage: drugs. As the two thugs burst into action the addict set the injector against his left forearm and pressed the button.

There was no immediate relief, no burst of precognition, if anything the wasted seconds cost the vagabond precious time as the one wielding the bat, a gentleman with a colorful arrangement of facial scars, swung the metal weapon at Milo's head. With a yelp the addict was just able to leap out of the way, falling on his right side. The action caused the injector to be ripped out, snapping the needle which remained embedded.

Before he could scramble to a stand, however, the other dived with a quick thrust at the vagrant's side, though his flailing forearm caught the blade. It was through sheer luck that it was not a vibroblade for it slices through though skin and nicked the bone but its angle prevented it from sinking too far or cutting an artery. It remained functional but would hurt and bleed profusely.

Yet as the pain raced up his spinal cord the stim's effect took hold and blocked many of the receptors and clouded out unnecessary panic or thought. The air crackled as the stunner activated, Milo using the thug's overextension to drive it into his ribs. The thief's knife clattered to the ground as he collapsed atop the vagrant's legs after some electrical jerking. Milo did his best to kick and push the man off. As a cheap, low quality, combat stim its effect on his senses was minimal yet mixed with adrenaline they were just acute enough to catch the light whistle of the baseball bat.

With the other outlaw still writhing upon him Milo hardly had the ability to slide out of the way, so instead he twisted his legs in the roll. The bat caught his shoulder blade awkwardly, cracking against it. Yet as Milo scrambled away he appeared near completely unfazed. For once the addict wasn't tweaking, instead it was as though he were another person. While he still couldn't fight he was at least lucky, durable, and drugged up.

Milo barely dodged the next two swipes, his leaps costly, but with all the supplemental energy it hardly affected him. Yet rather than stay on the defense the addict lifted his arms and sprang at the scarred man with a lifted arm to catch the bat early on his bicep before it caught too much momentum. Once more the sharp crackle of the stunner sounded as he stabbed it into the man's arm. The bat bounced against the duracrete, its hollow ring signaling the end of the fight.

Milo's elevated breathing could be heard as streaks of red ran down his arm, but otherwise he seemed alive. The stim concealed the rest of his injuries. He basked in the stimulation, the sharpening of his attention, the dull throb of his arm, back, and bruises from earlier in the day. It was for these reasons and more that he used, but never once had he used it for the sake of violence. Running, sure, but never violence. In one moment he felt both great and terrible. "We can go now," he said in a disconnected manner, looking back at Zira with dilated eyes and an idiotic grin. The hand wielding the stunner clamping down on the cut as best it could.

With them being in a fancier district, it should be a straight shot to the nearest rise and starport. He was losing blood however, and neither would the gangers remain stunned. "You don't also happen to know first aid, do you?"

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

Zira was stunned. To say she was impressed was an understatement. She attempted to interject a few times as the scuffle broke out, but she was genuinely lost on how. She knew how to do the odd headbutt with her horns, but she wasn’t built for combat.

There was a moment of silence as Milo stood there with a stupid grin and the goons knocked out at his feet. She barely heard his question before shaking her head furiously, “I improvised on the driving too..” Zira admitted at last. She didn’t want to advertise herself as some sort of podracing champion. At most she ran errands and performed menial tasks for Masters prior, but she had to act on the fly with their would be captors.

She walked towards the stunned men and glared at them. For good measure, she gave them each a solid kick on the head before rifling through their pockets. Right away she could tell they had a solid amount of credits to work with. Zira looked down and tore off a piece of her dancer’s skirt, walking towards Milo to tightly bind his arm where it was bleeding, “This should hold until we get to a medical bay,” She lingered there for a moment, gazing up at him, “I-I’m…sorry, Milo..I feel like I’ve been nothing but bad luck for you,” Zira said quietly, chewing on her lip.

She said nothing more, walking back to get into the speeder to take him quickly to the nearest medical bay. They couldn’t exactly afford to spend the money on treatment, so as soon as he was cleared they would have to bail without paying.

Fortunately, he got the care he needed upon arrival patched up with bacta. With the drugs wearing off, he was left with pain, but it was nothing he couldn’t survive. Zira did her thing distracting some of the male nurses to give Milo a chance to sneak out. She followed soon, both them out with Milo healed up.

Zira stopped by their speeder parked in a back alley, handing over the copious amounts of credits she nabbed not only from the thugs but one of the doctors in the medical bay as well, “There’s more than enough for you to catch a ride out of here and start something new,” She sighed, “I know you don’t want to deal with me so just give me the collar device. I will find someone to take me,” There was a hint of defeat in her tone, but she didn’t know how to live a life without belonging to a master. She needed that ‘stability’.

@Cartoonkarl

 

[Milo Corr]

As soon as the high left him a terrible lethargy rolled over him and mixed with the pain he did in fact vomit the nutrition bar up the moment they landed at the medical facility. Luckily getting none of it on himself. All throughout the treatment his head swam in the clouds, the second part of every stim high he sought, yet with his resistance to many of the compounds it was ever fleeting and quick to disperse.

The bacta was a relief but between the minor blood loss and the end of the stim's effects he was paler than any undercity dwelling vagabond ought to be. This was made all the more apparent as the light of the sun cascaded down upon them as they began to ascend among the many other vessels which shared the vertical tunnel. They were departing from the dregs and the desolation of Tetan society and witnessing the bright and glittering city-scape of gilded gold and sterling silver. It wouldn't be long before the withdrawal symptoms set in, but for now he just appeared to melt into his seat and stare at the sky above them. "You're funny," He slurred, favoring the tiefling with humored eyes. "I said I didn't want to keep you, doesn't mean I don't want to deal with you."

Stuffing his hand into his pocket he drew out some of the credits she had handed him, though in his state didn't attempt to count any, and set them on the console between them. "If you were bad luck I wouldn't have as much cash as I do now, twice now. I wouldn't be about to leave this planet. Might not be in one piece but I'm alive, aren't I? Those are yours by the way."

"Also," Milo began with a slight grin, shifting in his seat as he began to look around, clearly taking in the sights. "I threw it away. There are too many in the galaxy as it is, if we're sticking together then you won't be needing it." As they joined one of the many lanes of orderly speeders the vagrant pointed in the direction of the spaceport though Zira likely already knew its location when she arrived with Gulpo. "That is if you're sticking with me. I can't exactly provide a stable meal or great shelter, just about everything I own now is because of you. Wherever we go likely won't be as pretty or have as many opportunities, I would much rather not do it alone but with a friend. Without a collar you can leave at any time to return to your old life."

They touched down at the starport's spacious parking lot and no security moved to stop them or hinder them, up here it was a completely different world. With her torn dress and his bloodied arm they were oddities, yet they didn't appear to have any sort of notoriety. Empress Teta was an ecumenopolis after all, word traveled slowly and what socialite in their right mind would report a missing slave to the lighter side of Core World society?

Milo stepped out of the speeder and threw his arms out to the side, despite the agony which lanced up his back, a pained but victorious sigh escaping his lips. "But I can promise that it will be a different experience, for the both of us." Lowering his voice he added, "You also know how competent I am."

"There is plenty of galaxy out there for us to get into trouble in, and more things to steal which you surely have a knack for." Waving a hand over his shoulder, he invited her to join him, before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his stolen pants and leaving the choice up to her, though he did glance back rather than continue too far.

With all the retailers inside of the starport they'd be able to replace their wear with something more fitting for random travelers, the real issue was security. Milo didn't exactly have identification and he doubted that Zira had any on her herself. Part of falling in-between the cracks of society was never acquiring the articles by which all with even basic privileges were assigned at birth. Also the both of them looked worse for wear.

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

When Milo made it clear she could come with, she revved up the engines and began to head towards the spaceport. The idea of leaving the planet with someone that didn’t quite treat her like a master was surreal. The more he spoke, the more confused and intrigued she became. When he admitted to throwing the device away, she audibly gasped, “You did..what?” She blurted out, unable to keep the shock from her face and voice.

After she parked, she simply sat there for a moment, still not fully processing what happened. Not only was her collar removed, but the device to detonate it was discarded? He effectively had no hold over her. Zira couldn’t fathom what any of this meant. Her mind was mush and her entire life until that point flashed through her mind. All the rules she was taught, all the punishment she endured, the forced sterilization she suffered, all of it flooded into her mind.

Milo was still in the middle of talking when she threw her arms around him and embraced him. Hot tears streamed down her face as overwhelming emotions spilled over. At that moment she didn’t care if he hit her or pushed her away, she couldn’t have stopped herself from doing this even if she wanted. Her mind lingered on nothing but the fact that the device was thrown aside. And the fact that even if she hadn’t accepted it, for the first time in her life no one had a strict hold over her. There was a new fear that came with that, a sense of uncertainty, and she wasn’t sure she could accept it. But she could at least taste this new reality and it was thanks to Milo.

She drew back eventually, wiping her face and laughing through her tears, “I-I’m sorry.. I… I have no explanation for why I did that,” Zira said as she laughed again, resorting to using her skirt to wipe her face off. She was not normally permitted to display her emotions, and for once she felt like she could. So she took that moment to laugh and cry, giving herself permission to do so. She just stared up at the sky and chortled as if she heard the most hilarious joke ever. It was a sound she was unfamiliar with - her own genuine laugh.

After a few more moments, Zira finally followed him into the spaceport, their funds allowing them to get new clothing. She felt odd wearing something normal like a shirt and pants, something other than revealing dressy attire where she was forced to look pretty for someone.

“Wait.. Bard Daviri,” Zira suddenly remembered, “You should still have his ID on you. In his clothes!” She said to Milo, “If you use that and say I’m your companion, we could get into one of the lower end public transports.”

@Cartoonkarl

 

[Milo Corr]

Milo froze the moment she hugged him and the man, not prone to receiving any physical attention beyond the bumping of shoulders, violence, or any necessity such as medical attention, just stood there for an awkward moment before offering a very light but genuine pat of her back. "Don't worry about it," he offered as it came to an end, a relieved sigh escaping his lips when it was over. The vagrant offered a quick smile.

He had just done what was right, and all that he could do in the moment. Milo was a vagabond, soon to be a drifter. He had no resources beyond his two hands and what Zira had given to him. He did, however, have a hope and a dream, and this was his first step in achieving it, both physically and morally.

Zira's suggestion had worked, though with a bit of effort. He didn't quite look like Bard and with the make-up upon his face beginning to flake off it only exaggerated the differences between himself and Bard. Luckily, the clerk in charge of handling tickets and security was overworked, underpaid, and eager to just push them through the line, especially with their lack of luggage. Given that their transport of choice was also of the lower class variety there was even less of a concern despite the inverse likely being necessary. Too many ships and people passed through Empress Teta's starports for them to catch everything so greater focus was put on the mass and patterns rather than individuals.

Milo stared at the mind numbing number of options as to just where they could go yet only a handful were actively departing. Despite the atlas he often referenced on his datapad he had no knowledge beyond the historic notes to any of these names. He could choose one at random but for some reason it didn't feel right, especially with his companion being the reason they were even in the starport at all.

"You know, I didn't think I'd get this far, So... Thank you for that," he started, motioning to the giant board of outbound flights. "And I also don't quite know where to go. You've been all over, haven't you? Perhaps you might be able to... Pick somewhere?" An awkward question but anywhere was better here, in his mind. "As long as it isn't like Empress Teta, at least." It was both the single most important and equally minor decision. Never before had he departed from the planet, this would be the first of many firsts for him, but for a vagrant who had no connections what great difference was one world or another?

As a Deep Core planet its options weren't as varied as one might have thought, with further options requiring layovers on other planets. Core, Colonies, and Inner Rim were the most common, with Expansion Region planets of note such as Ord Mantell filling in the rest of the list. Only a handful of Outer Rim planets were on any of the lists, let alone just the outbound, but a few appeared here and there.

Whatever she chose the passenger ships would depart shortly, they were cramped with few accommodations made for the larger sentients of the galaxy and leg space. Food would not have even been provided if Milo, who was turning greener by the second due to approaching withdrawal, did not pay for something simple yet filling to tide them over.

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

Zira thought for a long moment before answering, “Kuat,” She said, “They call it the planet of opportunities. And it’s constantly hiring people to work in the shipyard,” Zira explained, “You’ll find work there and have a chance to travel the galaxy if you want,” She said, “It’s a very Pro-Jedi planet though, so hopefully Force users don’t make you queasy,” Zira added.

Provided Milo didn’t have any objections, the two would board the next intergalactic shuttle to take them to the rich shipyard planet. They had hours to kill and Zira poked thoughtfully at the meal provided. It was many leagues better than the scraps she was usually thrown.

“So..how did you end up on the streets?” Zira asked quietly as she glanced at the vagrant.

@Cartoonkarl

 

[Milo Corr]

Kuat, a planet with as colored a history as the rest of the galaxy, with many figures both great and ill originating upon its surface. A gem in the crown of whoever held it, and his first taste of freedom. He didn't know why but it was fitting. "My stomach is already upset as it is," he joked.

Milo scarfed down his meal as though he hadn't eaten anything substantial in weeks, which he likely hadn't given the nutrition bar he had shared with Zira. The man was all skin and bones under that jacket though the beard and clothing did well enough to hide his sunken cheeks. Either way he would have to order a second helping of the expensive ship fare by the time the quivering came to an end. Already it had begun to appear in the bobbing of his right leg and the instability of the hand which manipulated food.

As if he had been asked the question many times before his answer came easily, not even lifting his eyes to regard the Tiefling. "Bad luck, I suppose, earliest memories and all that. Don't know much more than that." Then the vagabond paused, half-heartedly chewing. Wasn't as if he had much to hide. "Had many opportunities to leave, chances for work, kind mentors and folk, big paychecks, gangers. Only ever half-heartedly took them, 'til now." As he reached for his drink on the tray the sleeve of his shirt was drawn back once more revealing the many tiny injection marks upon his left forearm, previously witnessed when Zira had treated it after the fight. "Eventually I just stopped taking them."

It wasn't an attempt to draw similarities between them but merely the truth. The moment Milo had found the end of an injector's needle his life as a sapient being had effectively ended, everything had gone in pursuit of another hit. Even their little stunt at the party had just been an excuse for another chance to stim up, at least he hadn't wasted it. His left arm and back throbbed, visible by his stiffness, but the bacta had done wonders.

Then, with his food consumed, he set his instruments down and motioned to Zira. "What about you?" Milo left the fullness of the question unstated given the number of faces surrounding them, though his focus didn't waver. Genuinely interested in the answer even if he knew inklings from what she had shared already.

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

His story only made her realize that even with ‘freedom’ others could still wind up a slave. In Milo’s case he was a slave to a vice, but ultimately he was the one that put the collar on himself. Did he realize that? It wasn’t her place to say anything about it - after all she still considered him her master despite the collar and device being tossed. It was impossible for her to comprehend otherwise and would probably take a long time to unlearn what she knew.

“I have memories of Zygerria so I believe I was born there,” She said, “I was a slave for as long as I knew. When the Sith came to take the planet, my brother fashioned himself a rebellion leader,” Zira said bitterly, “He led a few rebel cells to fight back but they all got slaughtered. It was a futile effort and we all went back to our lives…and I saw first hand how silly it was to try and get out of the life we were born into.”

Zira finished up her meal, sighing as she relaxed, “Since then I’ve just changed Masters as I’m sold. I suppose it’s not too bad..I always have my meals provided and usually get a shelter to sleep,” She shrugged, “I have to stay in decent physical condition to be useful for my masters so I’m not treated as poorly as the labor slaves.”

She looked out the window at the swirling vortex that was hyperspace, finding the sight mesmerizing, “What will you do on Kuat? Will you try to get a job?”

@Cartoonkarl

 

[Milo Corr]

The addict was all too aware of just what his master was, leaving Empress Teta did not mean an end to his addiction. If anything the coming days would be more of a trial as ways of accessing his master would require a greater effort. He had no contacts, not trusted dealers, yet that was partly why he left. A change in environment was needed if he were to become anything other than a man strung out on the streets.

At first another one of those looks of pity crossed his visage only to be replaced with a muted scowl as Zira went on, there were a few reasons but the most prominent was of course staying in the life you were born with. This whole venture was built upon that wish, that he could escape that life and become something else, someone better. For the first time in his life he possessed that want to a degree that wasn't fleeting fancy or regretful moaning. Zira had to be wrong for him to amount to anything beyond what he was.

Rather than entertain any sort of resentment, however, the man let the sentiment depart with a quick breath, eyes dancing around the ship and its many other patrons. "I don't know, honestly. As I said before I didn't really think I'd get this far, honest work wouldn't... Be too bad, I suppose, but I kind of want to see the galaxy. Settling in one place wouldn't be good for me, not until," he paused, as if trying to think of the right words. "I can plant strong roots. I suspect if I stay in Kuat too long I'll just be back where I started. Different planet, same problems."

"What about you, if you could do anything there, without any supervision, what would it be?" He wondered if she had ever thought outside of that collar, and if not what better a time than to pose a question beyond its bounds. While the life of an addict had its restrictions he still had his own freedoms, especially as a low-time criminal. More than once had he climbed the spires of Empress Teta, with a stolen breath mask, to just stare at the setting sun from its spires with a friend who had long since passed from his presence.

Yet before too long he added in a lower tone. "I'm sorry about your brother, no one deserves a death like that." Milo wanted to argue with the tiefling but he wasn't fool enough to laud the man's choice, or add that no one should live a life as she had. All he could do is show her, and share his beliefs for his own sake. "But I have to hope that we can change our lot in life. I can't go back, Zira. I know I won't survive it, I nearly didn't."

@Sreeya

 

[Zira Suvan]

She couldn’t imagine a world where she could do anything. Zira was stumped by the question, never having been asked such a thing before. After a long moment, she finally ventured to answer, “I would…eat desserts,” She said at last, “I have never tasted cakes..or pies..or ice cream..” Such things were treats and someone of her station in life was only allowed scraps enough to survive and look pleasant. Desserts were a luxury she never experienced.

“My brother deserved it,” She said harshly, looking away, “He was a fool for fighting against overwhelming odds. It got him and everyone that followed him killed,” ‘But I’m dying free, little bird’ She could still hear his fading voice as she screamed at him while he lay dying in her arms. She could vividly remember the smile on his face, a smile where he was at peace with his death and his choices. He told her she wouldn't understand then but perhaps one day she would. Zira still didn't understand it. In the end, he went out on his own terms. Could Zira ever claim the same?

“If you keep your head low, you’ll survive,” Zira said after a moment, pushing thoughts of her brother aside, “Don’t try to be a hero,” She reminded him, her golden gaze fixing on him, “The galaxy doesn’t reward the good guys,” Zira said. She could recall how hated the Jedi were in the galaxy and how often they were torn to shreds in the media. They even managed to get kicked out of the Galactic Senate. Did it ever pay to be a good person?

It wasn’t long before the ship jumped out of hyperspace and they had their first glimpse of the massive shipyard that loomed above the planet. It was a sight to behold and Zira could make out the impressive fleets that made up the Kuat naval forces. It was clear that even with the collapse of the New Republic, the planet was thriving and prospering just fine.

@Cartoonkarl