Miho stood at the entrance to Club Kasakar, the thumping bass of music filling the air with what she felt was little more than discordant noise. The BD-Unit beside her, one of her constant companions, whistled sadly at the building, already knowing what its master intended.
She hated places like this and her droid had been with her long enough to pick up on it. The stench, the filth, the waste of humanity that lingered here. Kasakar was known to be a place where a discerning client could find what they were looking for.
Slaves. Drugs. Prostitutes.
The small Proconsul had found it on a previous visit and taken a mighty offense to it. It wasn't the drugs she found abhorrent. It wasn't even the services of someone's body. Hadn't she done both of those in her own past? There were always sickos who saw a body that looked like a child's and got excited by it. It had helped her get close to them for the final thrust.
It had paid well.
No, none of those were the ignition for the cataclysmic rage that always simmered just beneath the surface. It had been the scared women and children paraded through like animals the former slave named Miho had taken offense at. And now, once more, she stood outside the club. Kasakar. Violet eyes that were more than a little angry bore into the entrance. Beside her was someone hired through the friend of a friend.
The walking slab of well-muscled meat was Foxen Erinos. Standing there covered in metal, the Nautolan was more than a little imposing to the small Kyataran. “Well, this is the place,” murmured Miho.
The malice that radiated from the hulk beside her probably would have been enough to drive anyone else back several steps. Miho, however, had her own streak of brutality that emanated from her very core.
”Let's go.” the man signed at his comrade in arms. She had told him in broad strokes about her time as a slave in a way of explaining why this was being done. The look on his face of understanding told her he had his own story about slavers but didn't press him on it.
His hands are big enough to snap me in half, she had thought to herself. The rippling muscles had emphasized that without even a word to be said.
The much smaller woman entered the club with Foxen at her back. One of the guards stepped forward, his voice hard. “Aren't you a little young to be here?”
The young woman glared at the guard with all the intensity she could muster. It was always a chance they'd see her youthful features and make the assumption she was still really young. Wrapping herself in every bit of nobility her birth gave her, Miho drew herself to her full height. “I’m here to do business. My estates need a few workers and I heard I could find them here.”
There was a rumble of displeasure behind her. “And him?” the guard pointed at Foxen.
“Do you expect someone of my standing to go anywhere without the best bodyguards money can buy? He's in service to me so I wouldn't be an inconvenience, if you understand me.”
The guard took a step back, his weapon still half-raised. “We don't want any trouble.”
“Then move.” The imperious little princess said, brushing past the guards. “I am in no mood for this.”
Entering the club, Miho found that the smell of the place was the same. The smell of unwashed, uncared for destitutes was there beneath the expensive perfumes and air scenters. The unpleasant thrum of speakers made her bones ache and her ears ring. With a glance at Foxen, she grinned, her hands moving quickly as she signed. ”Left or right?”
The Nautolan looked around the club. One side was more populated and more likely to need someone of his size more than of the smaller woman. He knew what he was capable of, but she was an unknown. That she was willing to fight alongside him at all was more impressive than most things her size.
”Right,” he signed, indicating the side bearing more possible enemies.
With a dramatic sigh, Miho nodded. No one ever let her have any fun. In a single movement, she gestured for her droid to get down off her back. “Lock it down, Bee.”
The small droid whistled happily as it kicked a foot up towards one of the data ports in the wall. The entrance slid shut and the lights around it turned red. “Keep it shut until we're ready to leave.”
The same guard that had challenged her entry whirled around to face the woman and her companion. “WHA-” His shout cut off with a wet gurgle as she drove an odd blue-colored blade up and under his chin, driving it to the hilt in his skull. Freeing the sword at her hip in a fluid motion, Miho smiled as the sickly green glow engulfed the blade.
“I think it's time to go clubbing, Mister Erinos,” her light, musical voice with its odd accent was cold, brutal, and unyielding. “Let's show them what we think of their trade.”
