The Godless Matron is home to many, resembling a micro-society for those who wish to live outside the typical 'rule' of the galaxy. The Lucrehulk-class battleship's massive hangars have been converted into dwellings as a result. Chute Town is the most notable of these makeshift towns. Many shops and storefronts have been constructed to take advantage of the higher volume of foot traffic. In addition, many ships and crews arrive into Chute Town to sell their "well-earned" commodities, weapons, or artifacts. It is commonplace to find the best and the worst gear the galaxy has to offer, it is only a matter of how big your pocket book is. The 'streets' are patrolled regularly by the crew of the Matron itself, leaving would-be miscreants to be more wary, lest they find themselves on the receiving end of a pirate's sense of justice.

It is built mostly out of spare durasteel panels from derelict ships, dismantled machinery, or any other source or material the pirates could scavenge. It spans the length of the massive portside hangar of the Matron, reaching from it's heavily protected reactor — hidden behind triple-reinforced blast doors and a guard retinue — all the way to the hangar entrance where the many incoming ships unload their cargo. It is more than a mile long, over five hundred feet wide and up to three stories tall, covering most of the floor. Chute Town's streets are a miniature maze, weaving in between buildings on several levels. Verticality is key for the masses of shops and bars to operate without interfering with one another. The main street is nicknamed Murder alley, mostly because all the weapon shops are prominently opened there.

Illumination banks are staggered along the walkways and buildings to provide enough light for the society to function. Still, the 'streets' are left dim with a low hanging fog built up from the collective humidity of so many people in one space. For those calling it their home, there is no such thing as 'off hours'. A large crowd bustles along at all hours, an exotic assortment of individuals from countless planets and the warring gangs that divvy up the territory within. It's the perfect place for those looking to disappear in the crowd.

The Matron was not Stres'trong'armis's idea of a good time. It was infested with criminals, slavers, smugglers, pirates, and just plain bad people. That the man he was here to protect, his Master, fit into a few of those categories himself at times, did not comfort him. His charge, walking a few feet ahead of him, hands in pockets and looking quite relaxed, was Kordath Bleu. The Ryn, far shorter than the hulking Chiss following him, was headed to a clandestine meeting. Not that he was acting like it, having stopped at several public houses and street vendors along the way for drinks or snacks.

His Master claimed it was all about blending in; Strong had his doubts. The Arconan had been pushed into running the military arm of the Clan recently, a job he seemed to avoid at every possibility. A secret meeting with a contact from the Clan's intelligence network was the sort of thing the Ryn would jump at, and that meant dragging his Chiss bodyguard along. Whether he liked it or not. Bleu had tried to board the outbound ship to the Matron in the middle of the night and was surprised when he'd found Strong waiting aboard. Several times since leaving the Dajorra system the Chiss had found himself having to keep track of his small charge, who kept 'accidentally' wandering off.

Despite the delays, they found themselves in an alleyway of the aptly named 'Chute Town.' It was an anomalous area, to his mind, compared to most of their surroundings. A clear area, with a few low structures around keeping them away from Murder Alley and the larger ad hoc buildings that made up the strange little town. A trio of rough looking men with sharp eyes awaited them, and after a cursory glance by the Chiss, he filed them away as non-threats. Likely the intelligence agents they were meant to be meeting, but something in the area was bothering him.

A brief exchange occurred, items changed hands, and Kordath threw his Fade a lop-sided grin and started heading for the exit to the main street. Strong shrugged, perhaps this would be as easy of a mission as his Master had made it out to be when he'd tried to leave the big man behind. Then the Ryn stumbled, and the Chiss was certain the Arconan hadn't had nearly enough to drink for such an act. That Bleu looked surprised, then worried, was not a good sign either. A shout behind them drew their attention to one of the disguised agents in a heap on the deck, an aerodynamic dagger protruding from his back.

"Thank tha bleedin' Force," muttered Kordath, grimacing at the sight. Strong was aware of his Master's uncanny ability to avoid harm, and his near fall suddenly made sense. "Somebody is out ta get me, mate."

"Indeed, Sir. The attack must have from the direction of the main road. Please, head back the way we came!"

The big Chiss stretched his neck and shoulders, rolling them and listening to the sound of joints popping as he loosened up.

"Go. I will delay them and return to Selen at my earliest convenience."

"Ya sure about that, big guy? If they be after me, they can probably--" the Quaestor's words were cut off by the sound of a lightsaber igniting. "That, they can probably that. Come on, Strong, we ought ta bolt."

A red-skinned Togruta stepped out of the shadows, her crimson saber throwing shadows over the unique patterns adorning her montrals.

"Oh kark me," mumbled the Arconan, drawing a glance from his bodyguard.

"Not for all the credits in the galaxy," snapped the woman. She raised her blade, pointing it at him. A flash of steel in her offhand suggested more of those throwing knives were present. "Last time you crossed my path, Ryn, you embarrassed me and ran away. Not this time. I'm going to mail your blasted tail back to Arcona when I'm finished with you!"

"RUN Master, please!" shouted the Fade, his voice booming inside the small area. He reached one thick arm back and unslung the yellow trimmed riot shield hanging there, engaging the power on it and stepping between the apparent Sith and his charge. "You will not gain vengeance this day, madame, please cease and leave before I am forced to remove you as a threat."

The woman's yellow and black eyes stared at him with incredulity. "You believe you can give me orders? Why, because you're bigger than me?"

Strong blinked and turned his head slightly to look at his Master, who shrugged helplessly. As he looked back at the woman, she began to move. With a sigh the Chiss reached back with his freehand and shoved the Ryn, "Go. I shall be fine."

"Back as quick as ya can, mate, you ain't allowed ta go dyin' fer me, eh?" spoke the Arconan, teeth gritted but turning to run.

Such is part of the contract, Master Bleu, but I shall endeavor not to fall here.

The bodyguard caught sight of the Ryn dashing back the way they'd come, disappearing into one of the side passages. Ahead of him, the woman looked focused, her gaze tracking his Master, before making an unnaturally long leap towards one of the low buildings. She was trying to cut him off, he decided and moved to deny her that ability. It was somewhat satisfying to the large man, though he'd never admit it to anyone other than himself, to hear the yelp of surprise when he removed her from the rooftop by grasping her cloak and tossing her.

She tumbled across the metal floor before coming up in a roll, teeth bared and glaring at him. "How did you even get up there so fast? You're too big!"

Strong puffed his chest out and smiled, pearly whites showing as he used his empty hand to grab the front of his shirt and tore it free.

"Young lady, you have been bested by the parkour techniques that have been passed down the Garmis family line for generations. Now please! Do not force me to do you harm!"

"You cannot be real. I'm going to carve you down into something more manageable and then catch your little friend afterward."

The Chiss dropped off of the roof with a dull thud, the vibrations through the metal decking felt in the woman's feet. He pulled from his side a metallic, tonfa like object and powered it on, the tips crackling with electricity. She came at him quickly, and he used the shield to knock aside a thrown knife before meeting her saber strike with his baton. He could see a look of alarm in her eyes as he easily pushed her back after blocking the attack.

"Please, miss, you're outmatched physically, and I am well enough aware of what other talents your kind are capable of. Could we not discuss the situation instead? It would not do for me to harm a lady, especially one so petite."

“Petite?!” Tahiri snarled, stepping back into a defensive stance. She stared up at the hulking bare chested Chiss, quickly studying him. Darn it, he’s too big to take down head on. May have to take a different course with this one.

She straightened, holding her saber at the ready in her left hand, while unclasping her cloak. As the cloak fluttered to the ground, the Sith’s expression changed, flashing a smile at Strong, “Well, seems as though you have the upper hand.” The Togruta slowly reached over her shoulder, and unsheathed the blacked out Vibrosword which hung there. “I’m going to try and level the playing field a bit.”

Strong looked at the Togruta, slightly confused. “I don’t think I quite know what you mean miss. However, if I’m understanding your intentions, then it would be ill advised.”

“Aww, you don’t want to dance with me big boy?” Tahiri twirled her blades.The Sith sauntered forward a few steps. “Oh come on, a Big Boy like you should know how to show a girl a good time,” she leered, smiling sweetly.

“If you are insinuating what I think you are, as a Lady you should be ashamed of yourself!” The Chiss’ voice boomed in dismay at her hinted innuendo. His jaw dropped slightly in amazement, as the Togruta smirked and gave a small chuckle at his alarm of her actions.

“Ah, so you mean that you haven’t danced with a real woman before?” Tahiri giggled a bit. She would have prefered to toy with Kordath, but this was just as fun.

Moving quickly, while Strong processed that last remark, Tahiri struck hard. As he started to push the shield out to meet her attack, she fainted, instead going down and under the Chiss’ shield, while fending off the energized baton with her saber. The humming of her vibrosword meeting the flesh of the Chiss’ upper calf, was greeted Leaping back, she was satisfied as she saw the drops of blood dripping from her blade.

Strong grunted, feeling a warmth spread down his leg as the blood dampened his pants, causing them to cling to his form.

"Madame, a man of my noble upbringing knows quite well how to dance with a young lady such as yourself, but these implications are uncouth. It pains me to see that basic etiquette is overlooked in the training of your kind; perhaps it is what leads to so much conflict."

The blade hadn't bit deep, but he could feel the wound pulsing as it bled, his adrenaline not helping with the blood flow. The Medpac on his belt would be essential, but only after he'd neutralized the Togruta grinning at him.

"I just wanted to play with your boss, big fella, not hurt a big, strong guy like yourself," she spoke, her lower lip sticking out as if pouting. "There's still time for you to step aside and let me go have my fun. Though, from what I know of the little rat, maybe you could come along. I'm sure you and I could have a blast venting our frustrations on him."

Her face split into a smile as she twirled both blades, her wrist twisting to flourish the weapons and began to saunter towards him. "Maybe work out some of this stress we're both feeling, afterward, hmm?"

Strong's glowing eyes narrowed, no longer surprised by anything that came out of the foul mouthed little Tarenti. With a growl, the bodyguard charged forward, jaw tightening as he felt the pain in his thigh. His attempt to overpower her was only partially successful, his shield knocking aside her vibroblade as it tried to lash out at his knees once more, his baton meeting the lightsaber.

His wound had slowed him, somewhat, but not enough for the opportunistic Shadow to gain the upper hand yet. This became apparent when he swung the shield back in, taking a gamble that she couldn't get the sword back in line before he could finish his maneuver, and struck her in the chest with the edge of the frame.

Tahiri let out a gasp as the air was knocked from her, the blow sending her back several feet before landing on her back, chest heaving as she fought for breath. She realized her hands were empty; her weapons dropped in her flight at some point.

"I have tried to show restraint and mercy, miss, in the face of insults and assaults. But you insist on continuing this fight; I no longer am responsible for how this ends. Though it pains me to cause harm to a lady, even one such as yourself, I will not falter in my duty," the Chiss spoke with a heavy heart as he approached her downed form.

She looked up at him with black and yellow eyes, glaring at him and began to push herself up. A large, booted foot pushed her back down, planted firmly on her chest. He hadn't stomped down on her, simply using his weight and strength to hold her in place as her hands grasped uselessly around, looking for her weapons. She glared up at him once more, eyes traveling up the blood soaked trousers, over the muscular chest to a chiseled face that was set in a regretful yet resolute manner as he lifted his baton.

From his belt came a short squeal from a device that looked as if it was designed for communications.

"Strong? Strong! Made it ta tha ship, get yer big blue arse off tha Matron and get back home, eh? I'm sure ya already whipped tha wee lass but be careful. Get home, that's uhh, an order, yeah."

Strong glanced down at his belt and felt some of the tension release from his shoulders; his Master was safe, at least for now. His distraction cost him, as below his feet the wriggling Tarenti had forsaken the recovery of her conventional weapons and drawn a throwing knife from her armor. He howled in surprise and pain, the sound reverberating off the walls of the enclosed alleyway when she shoved it into his calf.

The Chiss stumbled back from her, limping and feeling blood collect in his boot.

"Sounds like he got away," spoke Tahiri, her voice rasping and still breathless. "Shame, I'll get him eventually. And you," she gave Strong an appraising look, licking her lips and then smirking. "You and me will have to dance again, Big Boy."

Strong began to set himself to defend once more, his shield and baton rising up. When the woman cackled and waved her hands, retriving her saber and sword, he knew things would get ugly. His wounds had likely cost him the advantage of speed; he didn't doubt he could match her in strength, but now he'd be forced to rely on his brute power alone. It would be quite difficult not to kill her, a resolution he wasn't fond of.

Instead of charging him, she smirked and sheathed her sword and gave him a mock saber salute, before turning to dash out of the alleyway.

"Till next time, Big Boy."

Strong stood for long moments, waiting for a surprise attack, certain she would circle around to strike from behind or the sides. When it didn't come, he finally collapsed to the decking and withdrew the Medpac on his belt and set to work. He needed to find a way home, and not bleed out.

"What a strang young woman," he mused to himself.