Ask Thumb Wars

[Nash]

Nash may have gone off to Umbara to become a Sith, but she wasn’t going to give up her criminal ties so easily. She was back in Hutt space, though in Nar Shadda to score some smuggling jobs. Umbara had a slew of acolytes and champions that wouldn’t mind getting some high quality spice and Nash was all too thrilled to oblige. Besides, now she had a ship of her own and was flying around all over the place.

She waited at a street corner having a smoke as she waited for Vossari to arrive. Now that things were even, Nash decided to invite him out for a guy she knew that could get him a cybernetic thumb. She was dressed casually, her shockgloves on her hands and a collapsible vibroblade on her hip. She had an EZPod in one ear, bobbing her head to some oldschool tunes while rapidly texting on her EZPhone.

Once Vossari showed up, she exhaled a cloud of smoke and put the cigarra out, “Sup homie,” She said with a jut of her chin, “Okay look, this dude I know is pretty sketch. He can get you a thumb but he might want us to do some shit in return.”

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Being thumbless was really stupid. Every day, Vossari had to wake up, look himself in the mirror, take Koala Chlamydia medication, and remind himself that a stupid drop bear bit through his thumb. He was just lucky Azar was spending the year on Korriban as this all went down - having to explain that he couldn't be sexually active because of a horrible koala bite felt even too bizarre for him. Arak's limited command of magic, too, prevented him from getting a new thumb.

Nar Shadda was a second home for Vossari. It was nice to have another acolyte who knew the city-world like he did. Some of them acted so sheltered sometimes. He offered Nash a quick fist bump, lighting a cigarra of his own as she spoke. "Some shit in return? He doesn't accept fucking money?" Sounded like some weird Nar Shadda shit, that was for sure.

Vossari was wearing something as he enjoyed his cigarra. Hopefully, being stoned would make the experience more pleasant. "It's not gonna be like, weird weird, right?" There was weird, and then there was weird. He wouldn't elaborate on the difference. "I say that like I got a fuckin' choice in the matter. I need a thumb." The scarring on his back had long-since calcified, but now it strained again, in a time of nervousness. Between that and his thumb, he was already starting to feel the battering of age. Or, at least, the battering he took over the years throughout strange circumstances.

"You wear those shockgloves everywhere, huh?" Vossari's eyes betrayed his curiousity.

@Sreeya

 

[Nash]

Nash glared at Vossari, “You don’t wanna make it obvious you have money, Thumbelina,” She quipped back, “That’s the best way to get jumped by these guys.”

She shrugged vaguely when he asked if it would be something weird, “I mean, one year I had to scrub out a fungus from between some Hutt’s fat folds,” Nash explained. The smell was unbelievable, but it scored her some fantastic Huttball seats. She stared off vacantly for a moment, thinking about how badly she wanted to see another game again.

“Yeah,” Nash responded to the gloves question, “You know how often I have to be prepared to duke it out for walking the streets at night while being twi’lek?” She asked with a grimace, “Shit’s fucked.”

She led them down a dark alley, her music still going in her EZPod. It would become apparent this was one of the seediest districts even for Nar Shaddaa. There were drunkards bumbling around, multiple homeless aliens and humans arguing loudly and brandishing makeshift weapons and prostitutes strutting about.

“Heyyyy sexy!” A woman called out to Vossari. She had several teeth missing, bullet wounds on her thigh and a raspy voice that sounded like she’d been smoking since she was 3, “I can tell you can get me reeaaal wet,” She laughed at her own Wrean joke until she started coughing like a tuberculosis victim.

“Are you sure you can’t just stick your hand in water and grow a thumb like one of those grow your dinosaur toys?” Nash asked after the Clone Wars Hooker sparked an idea, “Look look, hear me out,” She said, holding up her hands in case Vossari gave her an incredulous look, “Your whole…thing,” She gestured in a circle with her hand towards all of him - a habit she picked up from Kaldar (@Phoenix ), “-is water shit. What if you did some water alchemy magick shit to grow a thumb? There’s gotta be some Wrean shaman crap that gets you one!”

It sounded like a solid idea. Or she was having one of her stoned epiphanies. In any case, they arrived near an underground warehouse where the booming of a bass could be heard. The front cover of her contact’s location was a rave.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari watched the woman cough herself into a fit as he stared on, blankly, with a flat frown on his face. "Oh, how I've missed you, Nar Shadda..."

How did she know about the shamanic ways of the Wreans?

"My thing is water?" He scoffed haughtily, a dumb smug grin crawling to his face. "I'm an artist, Nash. That's my thing." By that, he meant he didn't have any particularly useful skills or talents. Of all the powers he had seen and heard the Force do, growing a thumb certainly seemed like a minor one. But Vossari just didn't have the knowledge he needed yet. He knew next to nothing about the finer workings of magic, let alone Wrean sea-thumb-magic.

The more he smoked, though, the better her idea sounded. "But maybe...if I took some kelp and shaped it like a thumb..." The possibilities were endless. Those options lingered in his mind as they approached the rave. Glowsticks swayed rhythmically to the booming bass of the rave. A smile crept to Vossari's face, as memories of tagging warehouse parties like that back as a teenager crawled to mind. Still, the massive raves formed a key part of Nar Shadda's underground nightlife.

Vossari decided to have some fun with being back. He reached into his satchel and procured two cans of spray paint, one blue and one pink. Vossari stole the pink one. He pointed towards the ceilings - the warehouse had once served as a massive cathedral, evidently, because the entire building was awash in the glow of stainglass windows. Giant cracks in the stainglass made room for light to streak out, into the night sky of Nar Shadda. Vossari saw scaffolding around the beautiful, crackling remains. "You wanna try something?" Vossari asked, a devious grin rising.

If they timed their spray painting right, they had the chance to make the funniest image of all time project across the cityscape. He usually thought dick jokes were beneath him, but he had recently apparently started to incorporate them into his art subconsciously. Or, someone was framing him. Couldn't be that.

He began to sneak off in the direction of the skylights, gesturing for Nash to follow him.

 

[Nash]

“Oh I know,” Nash said with a sly grin when he remarked about being an artist. After all, she had learned his style to completely fuck him over. She was still curious about how he was punished by the Dark Lord, but it had to be something epic.

Nash always loved a good rave, and she was bobbing her head to the rhythm. She squeezed past the crowds, elbowing a few people in the face as they tried grabbing at her. Vossari would see first hand what being twi’lek in Nar Shaddaa sometimes looked like. At some point Nash slammed a guy into a wall, slinking past him towards where her contact was.

When Vossari got her attention, she furrowed her brows before looking up at the ceiling. It took her a few moments to work out what he was trying to say, “Wait wait…like projecting a Mynock Man symbol?!” Nash said excitedly, recalling some of her favorite Holomovie series, “I’m in,” She said, fully and completely committed to this incredible and perfect plan. The fact that she was entirely spiced out had nothing to do with anything of course.

“I’ll do the balls, you do the dick,” Nash said, fistbumping him before they embarked on their mission. They had to start at different points and then converge together to complete the picture.

Nash shuffled away into the darkness and started to discreetly climb up to get towards the rafters.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari approached the the glass windows with a feeling of glee. Long, pink trails of spray paint began to glide across the glass. Now was one of those times where a second thumb would have been helpful - he couldn't hold the spray can (or much of anything, really) in his left hand. When he was alone, he had grown to use the Force as another appendage, to thumb through books, listen to music, even to draw. Here, though, he wouldn't risk drawing the attention of conspicuous Force usage. He steadied himself with his left and and sprayed with his right.

When he had finished spraying the long, girthy appendage, he hopped down from the scaffolding to prepare the lights while Nash spray painted a pair of blue balls onto their giant dick joke. He found giant strobe lights by the DJ booth and the bars to fiddle around with. A Trandoshan bouncer approached him . "Hey, Braids, what do you think you're doing with the lights?"

Vossari rolled his eyes before he turned around. Was there some fucking galaxy-wide group chat sharing dumb nicknames for him? "I'm a repairman." He said, flatly.

"Lights don't look broke to me."

Vossari sighed as he swiveled his hand out, to manipulate the mind of the bouncer. "Of course they look fine to you, you're not a repair man." The trandoshan looked confused, but wouldn't question the result. He was a bouncer, not a light fixture repairman. Vossari smirked as he aligned all the floodlights on one position - the giant dick. He couldn't quite spot Nash from his position, so he whispered out to her presence through the Force. You ready? LET THERE BE LIGHT!

After his fiddling, the high beam lights turned on, pointed directly at the glass windows. Their giant dick was alight in the glow of high-powered club strobe lights. This was only half the presentation, though, as the glass window acted as a projector for the rest of Nar Shadda. Into the smoggy night, a new symbol projected into the night sky of Nar Shadda. Some would see it as a symbol of hope, others as a symbol of vengeance. Most, however, would just see a giant, glowing dick in the sky, projecting proudly onto clouds of smoke that dotted the world. The stainglass had a kaleidoscope effect, diffusing the image into multiple different directions, providing the whole cityscape with views of massive peen.

Vossari stood with pride.

@Sreeya

 

[Nash]

The sight of it almost brought a tear to her eye. It was beautiful, majestic, bold, and artful. It shined like a beacon of hope for the billions on the planet that lived their miserable existence under the slimy tails of Hutts. Even the slaves could glance out the window while they walked from one section of a spice mine to another and see the giant, illustrious dick. It gazed upon them and it told them ‘you are not alone’. It told them that they mattered. That this phallic and gloriously offensive gesture could streak through the smog of tyranny and project for all to see. Nash sighed while basking in its glory.

She kept climbing up from where she was, motioning for Voss to follow her as she pushed herself up onto the roof, finding a precarious wooden beam to sit on. From here they could look out at the entire city as far as the eye could see. Nash dangled her legs, the drop below many feet away and certain death. She rolled up some spice and lit it, taking a drag before passing it to Voss.

Nash set her EZPhone on its speaker and started blasting a song, swinging her feet to the rhythm, “Fuck the Hutts,” She said as she took another log drag before handing it back to Voss, “You know they been keeping us down for ages. Chains around our neck. My mama before me, her mama before that, and so on and so fucking forth. I had to pretend to be a fucking dude, file my fucking teeth to escape that shit. It’s not right, man, it’s not right this is just the fucking way of life. Just cuz we look this way,” She took a long drag, blowing out a cloud of spiced smoke as she looked at their handiwork, “That is a beautiful cock. Looks like freedom."

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari climbed up, with a nimbleness that belied his catlike agility, but also hindered by his mangled hand. He looked into this skyline, which he had seen so many nights before. Nar Shadda felt like his home more than Wrea, or Umbara, these days, and he had nothing but contempt for it. Home is where the hatred is.

Vossari listened with intent as the smoke from their cigarra filled the night sky, fusing with the smog of industry and the toil of laborers beneath them. Nash was passionate. And she was right. While Vossari had not experienced the specific hardships of being a Twi'Lek slave, he was a literal fish-out-of-water in a galaxy ruled by arrogant humans and hateful hutts. Her passion was righteous, but more than that, the anger that she held onto was powerful.

Vossari paused to think as he smoked. His words came slowly, accompanied by the plumes of smoke. "You're fucking right. Those Hutts are the slime of the galaxy and everyone knows it. Most are just to chickenshit to do anything about it." Their rule was naturalized. Their oppression of the Evocii, of the Twi'Leks, of the Gamorreans, and of the Outer Rim in general was legendary. It was a fixture of the galaxy, a cornerstone of galactic history: The Hutts' will cannot be defied. But it wasn't a natural occurrence at all - just like they conquered Nar Shadda and Nal Hutta millenia ago, so too could another conquer these worlds. Just as they enslaved the Twi'Leks, so too could the Twi'Leks liberate themselves. "The worst part is, everyone becomes a fucking beggar around them. No one has the spine to deal with them."

He looked once more at the giant dicks, as he caught glimpses of the ecumenopolis appreciating it. Kids stopped to take pictures. Eldery workers, haggard after a long day, let out a chuckle as they passed by. "This is the purpose of our power, you know. The entire point our Order. Freedom. It's not given to us in this life - we have to take it." His voice burned with passion as he spoke. That passion reached his eyes, which met Nash's own.

"You have the greatest gift your people could ask for. That power. That rage in you." He had seen her beat down Veltharion before his untimely passing, attack those nerds on the speeder. Within Nash lay an untapped font of rage. Vossari identified with that most of all, the need to lash out at a galaxy that has never cared for you. "It's a weapon that you can use for yourself, for your people." The Sith were meant to be free. That the galaxy around them lived in chains was a hypocrisy that ate at Vossari's core. He felt it ate into the Sith itself - many were too cowardly, too awed by social custom and convention to really free themselves and think outside the box. Yet Nash, he sensed, was an outsider like him. "The Hutt Cartel is built on an unstable foundation. You cannot oppress forever without resistance. It's a house on a fault line...waiting for an earthquake." He glanced knowingly at Nash.

He thought back to other visits to the planet, recently. Being beaten by the Gammorreans was a common experience, of course, that all who lived on Nar Shadda rightly despised them. Deeper than that, though, he remembered a cult surrounded by mystery, with a directive: Destroy the Hutts. The people did not want to live like this. They yearned for an alternative.

"I'm not gonna tell you what to do." Well, he probably would at some point, just not right now. "All I'll say is this: These smug, slug bastards have had it coming for thousands of years. Before any of our ancestors were born, these bastards were raping and murdering their way across the Twi'Leks and the rest of the galaxy." Another puff. "But, Smash, I believe in destiny. And cosmic retribution."

He continued to pontificate. Nash had got him fired up, directed his simmering rage towards a righteous target. One he had long loathed, one he always wanted to lash out against. "The Force is the power of the universe itself, and the Dark Side gives it form. You've seen how strong Raze was. Or the Warmaster of the Empire. Or the Dark Lord. All of them started like us." Each of them with the power to command armies, obliterate systems. They made it there through a combination of luck, strategy, risk-taking, and raw power. Each of them had shaped history in their own way. But the biggest lesson was this: "Everything changes. And Fate decided to make you one of the change-makers. Your power is yours. Tend to it, and you will have the ability to make these worthless fucking hutts BEG for mercy." And then, Nash could deny it, as the Hutts had done for so many millennia beforehand.

"Don't let the losers at the Academy bring you down. Find your purpose. Hone it." He emphasized this part. Vossari wandered, too, without purpose. But when he felt his passion in his work as a Sith, that was where he felt truly powerful. "Do that, and this whole system the Cartel has built will fold like a house of cards."

@Sreeya

 

[Nash]

The more she heard Vossari speak, the more inspired she was. His voice was like music to her ears, dulcet tones of anarchy and pride that poured into her like fuel to power a machine of war. She wanted to take Nar Shaddaa by the blue balls and bring true release to the people that lost their voices so long ago. She wanted to smite down the oppressors with the dick of justice. Where were the Jedi in all this? Why did the cycle continue? Why did the wheel never break?

“You’re right, Braidz, I do have the power,” She as she took another long drag, feeling strength course through her, “I ain’t gotta be like my past. I don’t have to be like everyone else I know. I was born with a gift and I’m going to use it,” Nash was so excited, she sprang up to her feet, looking out over the horizon.

“YOU HEAR THAT NAR SHADDA?! I’M COMING FOR YOU! I’M COMING FOR YOU, YOU FUCKING SLUGS! I’M -” And she promptly lost her footing off the beam and disappeared off the edge.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari blinked as Nash vanished into the night of Nar Shadda, her screams echoing off the side of the wall. Realization slowly sunk in. She was an idiot. All that monologuing, wasted. This would normally the point when little ol' Voss would try to /exit thread, but he was compelled to act. Not out of some lame sense of dignity or honor, but to finally have something over someone.

He slid to the edge of the roof after Nash. Spotting a leaky pipe, spewing out some rancid water, Vossari used the force to coil it into a long water-lasso, that he flung at Nash's foot as she flailed into the darkness of the city. It snagged her boot before she fell too far down.

Vossasri slowly pulled her up as he considered what to do. He could...steal all her money? Nah, that felt too juvenile at this point. And she seemed poor, anyways. No sense in robbing another person with the same amount of nothing as him. While the gears in his mind turned, the water lasso continued to pull her up. Voss peered over the ledge, staring at the captured acolyte. While his face was enshrouded in the shadows of the evening, his eyes burned into hers with curiosity. He crouched, as his water lasso dangled her above the expanse of the Nar Shaddan skyline.

"Good effort." His eyes narrowed. He raised up two fingers into a peace sign. "One: We're not doing any 'weird shit' in exchange for a thumb. We're just getting my thumb. So whatever 'rapport' you have with this doctor, get ready to burn it." He lowered his pointer finger, leaving his middle extended as he stuck out his tongue. "Two: You help me with a few more errands on Nar Shadda. We accomplish a shared goal." Certainly an unconventional request, but it was his. Both of them seemed to resent authority, support idiotic behavior, and generally act chaotic enough that he could use her to further is own resentful, idiotic, chaotic schemes.

His tone belied a seriousness, an implicit threat. But, should she agree, he would drop her back onto the roof with him.

@Sreeya

 

[Nash]

Nash was flailing around when a water lasso coiled around her foot. She thought for sure she was a goner, but there she was dangling upside down courtesy of fetid water lasso. Amazing. She blinked in wonder, drowning out his initial attempt at being threatening, “DUDE HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS? THIS IS SICK!” She yelled, genuinely thrilled even as she dangled precariously upside down. After he made his threatening commentary, she remained silent until he brought her down on solid ground.

The twi’lek quirked a brow as she looked at him, “We’re buds, Braidz,” She stated flatly, “You don’t have to threaten me into doing shit. You can just ask,” Nash said with a bemused look, crossing her arms over her chest. Why was this dude such a hater? As far as Nash knew, he had a great thing going with the infamous Karys as a Master and favors from the Dark Lord herself. Man was living like a king.

“Look, I wanna set a particular Hutt’s yacht on fire,” Nash said after a moment, “As long as we get to squeeze that into your laundry list of bullshit, I’m all in,” She said, offering a smirk at the end, “That water trick was real cool, though. You did that shit without even blinking. People would be stupid to mess with you, Braidz,” She said as she extended her fist for a fistbump.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari's eyes narrowed when she said he didn't have to threaten her. Strange. Weren't threats the way Sith Champions were meant to motivate? At least, it seemed like that's all anyone had ever offered him. Threats, implicit violence, and actual violence. His trademark shit-eating-grin grew into a genuine smile as she complemented his hydromancy. It was true, he had a natural talent for it, but he had worked hard to hone water into his element. It was an endlessly versatile weapon, tool, and resource.

"It's cool, right? Water's everywhere." And wherever it was, Vossari knew he had an edge. He coiled the lasso up and released his hold on Nash, dropping her back onto the roof. He took another puff of the cigarra as he listened to her request. A Hutt yacht in flames...Vossari used to dream of being an arsonist. The reality was too scorching for him to handle, but he appreciated the same spark of rebellious ingenuity.

"You got a deal, Smash. I'll bust up a Hutt yacht with you." He returned the fist bump. "It's at the top of the list. Right after this thumb business." Setting fire to a Hutt yacht would, ironically, be a boon for his plans.

Friendship. It felt like a strange concept - one he wasn't ready to outwardly acknowledge. He passed the blunt back to Nash. "How do you know this doctor?"

@Sreeya

 

[Nash]

An actual smile on Braidz’ face was so shocking that Nash almost toppled right off the roof all over again. She gawked at him stupidly for a moment before collecting herself. Was he always that cute? FOCUS, Nash, “So you’re just born with abilities like that? That’s fucking sick,” Nash said before she drew from the blunt, “I barely know how to use the Force. Still relying on my fists,” She said with a shrug, unable to keep the frustration from her tone.

Nash motioned for them to start making their way down, “He's a creepy dude but he replaced some cybernetics for some of my buddies,” She gingerly climbed her way down, moving with surprising graze for someone that normally bulldozed all over the place. Eventually she hopped back down after casting one last glance at their magnificent phallic symbol in the sky.

She led the way through the rave down some stairs to stop before a Gamorrean. Nash gave a jut of her chin, “Coo coo cachoo!” She said cheerfully before doing some odd and erratic gestures with her hands. The Gamorrean looked entirely unamused. For a moment nothing happened. However, he snorted and stepped aside. Nash didn’t give any explanations, stepping through and down a long, creepy corridor.

Doors lined both sides of this corridor and Vossari would hear groaning and pained moans behind some of the doors. Nash seemed entirely unfazed, making her way to the very end of the grimy and dark corridor. She did a series of particular knocks, another door opening to reveal a woman in a bloodstained nurse outfit.

“Nashyrra!” The woman exclaimed cheerfully.

“Ughhhh it’s just Naaash, come on,” Nash said with a smile before giving the woman a hug. Vossari would spot a tall Umbaran eyeing him curiously. He gave off straight up eerie vibes with elongated features and a cool, collected calm that was unsettling.

“How may I help you?”

“Yo, my boy here needs a new thumb,” Nash said to the mad scientist.

“Mm,” The Umbaran said, tinkering on what appeared to be a dead ewok, “Just a thumb? Pity..”

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

He was always that cute, even when he was an asshole. Especially when he was an asshole. Her question gave him pause - he certainly wasn't a child prodigy with the Force, but several experiences had steered him away from fire, the element which fascinated him the most, towards water. His mind went to Azar; not only because of the explosion on Saleucami that ignited his avoidance of fire, but because of Azar's amazing ability to connect with his heritage and his uniqueness to make himself stronger. He knew his strengths, and he was incredibly self possessed. When Vossari took a long look in the mirror, he realized he wasn't the temperamental flame at heart. No, he could be a crashing wave and a steady river, ice cold and boiling hot. Vossari was water. Realizing that made him stronger.

Nash would have to embrace her uniqueness, too, rather than be trained away from it. That's what Param had tried to do - she was nice and all, but she just wanted another Param: An idealist, plant-obsessed, martial artist. Vossari wasn't any of those things. "Keep those fists tight, then. You'll find out soon, a lot of Sith are bitches, too. A solid punch will get you a lot farther than you think." Was Vossari being...encouraging? It was a new feeling. He didn't want to dwell on it.

Vossari watched with a stupefied grin as Nash's antics got them through the door. It was good to be back on Nar Shadda. Voss had almost forgotten how weird the place was. This Umbaran practically the spitting image of weird, from his strange monotone to his too-long, pale fingers.

Vossari deadpanned at the creepy doctor. "Yes, just a thumb." He wanted to avoid winding up like that poor Ewok.

"Then, have a seat, fine customer. Allow me to show you our wares." A holoscreen appeared, showing a variety of different thumbs. There were skin-tone colored ones, metallic ones, ones with wiring built for slicing. Suffice to say, Vossari had options. "The thumb is a rather limited piece, I'm afraid. If you were to lose the whole hand..." The umbaran punctuated with a pregnant pause. "Perhaps we would have more options. Alas..."

Vossari cut him off. "Give me one with a built-in lighter."

"Of course. We will need to still...put you under the knife, so to speak. Stay still." The medical chair Vossari lied in sprung to life, strapping his arms and legs to the chair as a team of metallic surgeons with whirring surgical tools marched in. It seemed like overkill. Vossari's eyes widened as he stared down Nash, settling to connect their minds via telepathy.

DON'T LET HIM TAKE MY HAND!

@Sreeya

 

[Nash]

Built in lighter? Damn. Nash wished she lost a thumb now too. She listened for a moment and then zoned out when the doc started getting all technical. By the time Vossari used telepathy to plead with her, he would see her very engrossed in some game on her EZPhone while blowing a bubble gum. To his plea for life, she didn’t look up from what she was doing, instead offering a lazy thumbs up and missing the insensitivity of the gesture.

Vossari would likely scream before the doctor sighed and bothered to apply anesthesia. However, the procedure otherwise took very little time. By the end of it, he had a cybernetic thumb with a built in lighter. The doctor looked at Vossari.

“You may pay me 20,000 credits or you may opt to do me a..favor.”

Nash crossed her arms over her chest, looking at Vossari as she used telepathy. She was getting better at this mind stuff courtesy of Arak.

‘You don’t fight your way out of this. This guy has a solid network. You fuck with him, you bring down way too much heat on us. So just pay him since you 'don’t wanna do anything weird'’ Since Vossari did all that big talk, she figured he could have cash on hand. However, 20k was a huge amount for anyone to pony up, so she was curious where he pulled this from.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

One painful ordeal later (was it normal for a doctor to "FORGET TO NUMB" this frequently?), Vossari flipped open his thumb and a small flame emerged. Maybe it was all worth it...that was, until he heard the price. His face noticeably dropped, as he racked together in his mind how to put together the credits for this.

Vossari scowled at Nash's insistence. She was right that 20,000 credits was well outside of what Vossari was able to afford. He was equally interested in projecting an image of invulnerability to Nash - though, he supposed that had passed when he begged her to protect him moments ago. With a sigh, his downtrodden eyes whisked towards the Umbaran doctor.

"How...weird is this favor going to be?"

The Umbaran merely gave an unsettling smile in response.

___________________________________________________________________________________​

A few hours later, and the pair of imbeciles were lugging a massive bantha through the streets of Nar Shadda. It stopped all-too frequently to take giant dumps. Vossari was in hell. "Who the hell has ever heard of a 'Bantha Spa' anyways?" He sighed, frustratedly, as he pulled the reins forwards through the street. As much as he complained, it seemed like it could be far worse. The doctor had exchanged a 20,000 credit service for a spa day for his prized bantha, Bagoo. It was a stubborn, hard-headed, and self-possessed beast, borne from a life of pampering. But it wasn't as bad as, say, scrubbing clean the folds of a Hutt's underbelly.

Vossari stopped leading the beast and leaned against it, momentarily, as he scanned around the market indecisively. "You know..." He took stock of their situation. Nash had led him to this doctor, and agreed to help him with this errand. Why? Was this more of that 'friendship' thing she was talking about earlier? "You don't have to help me with this. I could wash Bagoo alone." The bantha sneered instinctively at that moment, and nuzzled his giant head against Nash. Bagoo seemed to like her a lot more than he liked Vossari.

"But...if you're down to do this with me, we can still go to your yacht party afterwards." He pulled up his EZ phone to look for directions to this 'spa.' They seemed to lead down another alley, far too narrow for the beast to comfortably fit through. How could a bantha spa entrance not be big enough for a bantha? Vossari's exasperation was palpable.

A cloaked Trandoshan approached them, tongue gnashing about as she eyed the trio of Sith and creature. "That's a nice lookin' bantha you got there, partner. How much?"

@Sreeya

 

[Nash]

Unlike Vossari, Nash was not even remotely surprised to find herself helping drag a bantha across the street to a spa day. It was just the kind of weird shit the doc would request, but this still ranked higher than the usual, “You got off easy,” Nash told Vossari as they walked. Really Voss was doing most of the work with her pretending to help. She was there mainly for moral support and to pet Bagoo now and then.

When Vossari said she didn’t have to help, Nash quirked a brow, “Well, if you insist,” She said cheerfully before giving him a peace sign and wandering off to explore the nearby markets. Nash was starving and she was thrilled at the opportunity to pick up some snacks. Drawing a giant dick that projected across the sky used up a lot of energy.

Nash picked up some meats on a stick when she overheard Bagoo loudly complaining. It was a sorrowful cry at being away from Nash. The twi’lek quickly rushed over, not for Vossari, but for Bagoo. She took a bite from her snack, brows furrowed, “Why the fuck are you trying to fit him through there?” Nash asked Vossari, perplexed. Didn’t Voss know about the other entrance? Weirdo. Nevertheless, she handed him the greasy meat on a stick which he would recognize as a rat.

When the female Trandoshan walked over, Nash scowled at her, “Beat it, Granny Mil-DREAD,” She snapped. Granny Mildred was a terror, always coming around offering cash she didn’t have. Legends said she was immortal because people had reportedly been conned by her since the Clone Wars era.

“Mmhmhmhmh doesn’t look like you have anywhere to go, dearie,” Granny Mildred said, one of her eyes staring off in a different direction, before cackling menacingly.

Meanwhile, speeders began to honk because Vossari and Bagoo were blocking up an entire alleyway.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari flipped off the speeders honking at them instinctively as he thought about how to best respond to Granny dearest. Out of the corner of his eyes, he registered stone-eyed pedestrians, droids in trencoats, and annoyed pedestrians all staring at him. Vossari didn't want to make a scene. "Okay, Granny, why don't you just fuck off." He snarled at the Trandoshan. As he approached Granny, some of the pedestrians approached Bagoo, withdrawing blaster pistols from their long coats.

Vossari began to put two-and-two together. Oh no. "Nash, Bantha Rustlers! Watch ou-" Granny Mildred splashed a nauseating serum into Vossari's face, and Vossari stumbled about before collapsing into a pile of garbage. He was still conscious, but he lost complete control of his body. His eyes flitted about as he tried to use the Force, or his limbs, or anything to rise back up to his feet. It was for naught.

Bagoo growled at Granny Mildred as a gang of Trandoshans and Droids began to seize Bagoo's reins. As he tried to snap at them, a trandoshan hissed and fired a stun bolt into Bagoo's thick hide. He whimpered in response. Passing cars began to careen away from the traffic jam, as fast as possible, at the sound and sight of blaster fire. The team of gangsters forcefully hitched the creature to a stopped speeder. It wasn't the quickest abduction, but Vossari had no power to stop it right now.

GRANNY MILDRED, YOU CUNNING BASTARD!

 

[Nash]

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” Nash screeched as Vossari fell over like a sack of potatoes. She was left to fend for herself AS PER USUAL with the situation turning completely chaotic. Using a window of opportunity to her advantage while Granny Mildred was focused on fucking Vossari over, Nash came whirling in with an epic roundhouse kick to slam right into granny’s face. The woman was in the middle of cackling at her deception when the kick slugged her right across the face. Ka-POW! And she landed with a heavy thud right by Vossari, her dentures flying right out her mouth and hitting the Wrean in the chest.

With Granny sorted, Nash next rushed to Vossari as if to check on him. Instead, he would see her casually yoinking the kickass Sith blade he had on him, “I’mma need this, sorry,” She quipped before charging off to deal with the situation. When the bantha took a stun blast, Nash’s fury was unleashed.

“HEY! YOU DON’T FUCK WITH MY BOY BAGOO!” Nash called out as she ducked to dodge some blasterfire. She called on some of the Force lessons Arak taught her, coiling it around a small trash bin to toss it at one of the guys. While he was dazed, Nash charged in and shanked him right in the side before he could shoot her. Yanking her blade out, she elbowed another guy in the face, the crunching of bone resounding from the hit. Nash grabbed a blaster off the guy she stunned, shooting a droid to knock its head off. She was a one woman show duking it out with the group to fight for the bantha’s right to a well deserved spa day.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Vossari's vision dazed as he watched Nash completely pilfer his awesome warsword. It was probably for the best, he realized, because he had never used that thing correctly anyways. Vossari was completely useless as he stumbled to his feet, clutching his head as he called on the Dark Side to strengthen him and help him fight.

He would remain useless throughout this fight as he watched Nash move. She was creative and destructive, fusing unorthodox movements and limb strikes into a dirty fighting style that emphasized fluidity and victory. He respected it, appreciated it, wanted it for himself. She was growing into a popular acolyte - if he didn’t act soon, she’d likely have another teacher.

As the battle raged on, Vossari slowly regained control of his senses, focusing his rage onto the singular target of the garbage Trandoshan bandit who started the whole problem in the first place. By the time Nash was done knocking them around, Vossari could move again.

Rage contorted into hatred on Vossari's face as he grabbed Granny Mildred by the neck, and shoved her head back into concrete. He noticed the bloody spittle drooling from her face as a green glow took to his eyes. The serpent coiled, and this bandit filth would taste its venom. The spit in her mouth burned against her scales as it transformed into acid. Vossari stared as she struggled to save herself from the burning, as screams rained out. They were silenced when Vossari snapped her neck.

"Well, looks like she's Granny Mil-Dead now, huh?" Ba dum tiss. Assuming someone else would clean this giant mess, Vossari grabbed the reins of Bagoo and began to draf

When Vossari's rage subsided, the alleyway was covered in blood and droid parts. He had noticed that she fought not just with rage, but with glee. She was a gifted duelist, certainly, and the fact that she derived joy from her wrath was notable. She was defiant, and joyfully so. Vossari saw more than a kindred spirit in her. She was talented in weapons, with a vendetta against the Hutts that could serve for the juiciest revenge the galaxy had ever seen. She was perfect.

"I wanna alter the deal." Vossari was always direct, so he would lean into that and just say what he wanted. "You used that sword well. I'll let you keep it. If you become my Apprentice." The choice was hers. He wouldn't force her to be his acolyte - there were plenty of other acolytes he could just straight up kidnap if he felt like it. No, in Nash, he saw a mentee. The clay that he had always longed to mold as an artist. A perfect testament to the world he would build. "You watch HuttBall yeah? I'll be like your coach, you'll be the MVP." Join team Vossari!

His eyes glinted, but his face was stone. He wasn’t sure how he would take rejection right now, so he hoped she’d say yes.

@Sreeya