Malgan Markets
Iziz, Onderon
33 ABY
To those who grew up and worked within the markets, its siren calls and exotic smells were a welcoming reverie from the cleaner and less exciting air that surrounded the residential sectors. Vendors desperately competed for the attention of anyone who would notice their multitudes of merchandise for sale, though even their voices were sometimes drowned out by passing hovercrafts and departing space-faring vessels. The market was an overflow of stimulation, providing almost anything possible, whether it was to be sold or to be experienced, to those walking its stone streets. Arguably, Iziz was a city that had a rugged, but very authentic beauty which attracted tourists who sought to immerse themselves in the old within the new. In other words, those fascinated by history, as well as by creating it, felt right at home immersing themselves in a romantic maze of activity.
Of course, being a less-than-normal sentient in the Universe meant that this beauty was lost. Normally, the reason for that was one’s focus was found elsewhere. In Laren’s case, he was trying to kill somebody. Laren found himself dashing through the central market, chasing his target with an energy and fervour that seemed contradicting to his frail frame. He adeptly bounded toppled chairs and tables and expertly dodged innocent passers-by, keeping the human male in sight and hoping the chase would soon give way. For every fruit thrown in his direction or bystander roughly toppled during the chase, Laren’s resolve to capture and kill his target increased. His steady breathing, deep but resolute, maintained his quick stride against the much larger prey. Though he had wanted to capture him before they hit the market, he understood now his best chance was to tire him out, and allow him to seal his own demise within a small entrapment.
Suddenly, the man bounded left between two rows of tall, uneven buildings facing toward the Royal Palace. The suspected street could in fact be an alley, making it easier to track his target in a limited space. However, it could just as easily be a dead end, or worse, a deathtrap. But Laren was committed, and he slowed his pace and drew his DL-44, rounding the corner and about to fire upon his target...
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stood before him, wiping her used, ruby-stained daggers on the plain black robes of his fallen former target. Clearly Togruta by her red complexion and flowing montrals and head tails, her eyes were a deep and intense blue he could only compare to the vast and clean oceans of Mon Calamari. She was tall, nearly as tall as he was and very well built, with a body toned by year of combat and hunting. Her stance was strong and slightly arrogant, completely open to attack yet tense, as if waiting for Laren to make a move and seemingly knowing she could be ready to face him. The very pride emanating from the small smirk on her face brought a slight purple tinge into his warm cheeks. A gorgeous killer - my kind of girl.
“Seems like I got here FIRST!” she said, her voice echoing in his ears like the first time he heard rainfall after leaving Pantora.
He should have been angry with the fact his target had just been taken from him and the fact she was still speaking, and he immediately should have shot her dead and taken the human’s body back to his shuttle for safe transport and payment. His hesitation was taken advantage of, and she threw one of her daggers with target precision straight at his chest. Though he rolled in time to have the dagger miss his chest, the sharp blade still struck true, slicing a deep cut in his left arm before finding itself lodged and vibrating in the wall behind him. With only enough time to briefly look at his gushing flesh wound before taking a fighting stance, he found the Togruta bearing down expertly with her second dagger.
As they began their deadly dance , Laren focused inwards into his mind, recalling his teachings. He barely had time to react before she brought her blade to bear in a reverse grip, striking at his abdomen. He dodged her advances, though her attacks were pivoting him into the corner. A few more expert swipes, and Laren found his opening, using his palm to hit a sensitive nerve above her wrist. His blow caused her hand to open in pain, dropping the dagger a few paces away and out of direct reach. Laren had no time to retrieve the weapon, as the Togruta began an agile and deliberate advance.
Trained in the Echani arts, Laren flowed from a quick blow from the hips into a defensive posture, utilizing her movement to bring her off balance. He couldn’t help but notice her own expertise, in what form he couldn’t recognize, coming to bear against his own technique. After feeling confident his body had remembered its training, he focused outward, time seemingly slowing as the stalemate continued. Neither could find the weakness in one another as they continued to engage for brief and intense bouts before returning to their slow, graceful steps of death. He felt outward, using what he had learned to try to understand her. Her immaculate eyes held pain and anger, and the way she held her stance in combat had an aggressive tenacity that was beyond merely defeating a skilled opponent such as Laren. She was trying to prove something, yet it wasn't her superiority.
A kick to Laren's jaw, throwing him off balance, actually allowed him the ability to draw her in. She closed in a quick bound, her first attempting to hit home in the centre of his chest. He grabbed her by her striking arm, using her momentum to toss her against a nearby wall. She looked up after a brief moment, a smile on her full lips that had nothing to do with the battle at hand. Drawing on all of her strength to win this battle, she quickly bounded again and re-engaged her slightly larger, though somewhat skinny opponent. The punches kept coming, and he utilized her body weight to throw her off balance once again, though this time she recovered quickly with a kick to his left thigh. After a mere second of recovering his stance, he barely had time to notice she had rolled to the location of the dagger she dropped previously. She swiped expertly, bringing the weapon to bear with a soft hiss through the air.
Suddenly she jumped, leaving Laren the opportunity to strike a punch into her exposed chest. However, before he could bring his first to bear, he had a mere moment as he realized what was happening. Laren stepped forward and she tossed the dagger right where his left foot was about to be. He withdrew, taking three steps back and setting a basic stance, hands held at the ready and his body at a slight angle, presenting his petite frame at its smallest possible angle.
“How is someone who is out to kill me so damn gorgeous?” he asked her, trying to convey the truth of his comment. He had no qualms of killing her if it came to that, but he would avoid it if he could.
Without a word she retrieved the dagger she had just thrown from the ground, and her eyes found his. She raised her left brow and smiled, as if teasing Laren. This left him with a puzzled mind, a racing heart, and an unsure feeling as he had no idea what was to happen next.
"Honey, listen. If we can just stop and talk for a moment, I would rather discuss where I am taking you for a drink. With every hit you throw at me, I am falling in love." He had no idea why, but he was telling the truth. A woman who could kill him, or anyone who could kill him, deserved his respect. When she was as near to perfection as could be created for him in the Universe, and a warrior of great skill, and a scoundrel - he had a thing for bad girls since his days as a slave.
Expecting her to stop to react to the comment, he found himself on the defensive as she carried out a series of powerful strikes, aiming to find his least protected and most sensitive area on his body. He knew it was a feint, designed to have him protect that which was injured so that she could present a deadly blow to a target such as his head or his nether regions. But regardless of what he knew, she was quickly successful, striking at his kidney and causing him to reel in pain. She followed with an expertly executed grapple, bringing him to the ground and pinning him, dagger at his throat. He was finished and completely taken aback.
She sat there for a moment, holding the dagger at his throat, her face close to his even as her powerful grip pressed down. Her perfume smelled of a rose he had found on one of the Mid Rim worlds, of which he couldn't remember as the woman of his dreams pressed a dagger to his jugular, deciding whether to cut him or not. Regardless, his heart was racing for various reasons.
“You really are quite handsome. The datapads just do not give you credit,” she whispered in his ear, her sultry voice sending shivers down his spine even as he feared his life could be cut in a single flourish along his jugular.
He couldn't believe it. All of this, to find him? Was he being hunted and didn't know about it? So many thoughts at once, and none leading to any answers. Honesty was the best course of action here.
“You were so beautiful I hesitated. I never hesitate," he replied in a near whisper, making sure his words were carefully chosen and his mouth and throat moved as little as possible.
“Deadly and gorgeous is my business, darling,” a finger released its grip on the dagger still at his throat, touching the scars on his cheeks. “These add a rugged look about you. I almost couldn’t take this job you were too perfect.”
A silence overcame the two as they thought through their options. Laren had two, both of which were less than ideal. One was to die at her hands, his blood spilling onto the pavement as she walked away with ten thousand credits and her own life. The other, and the more optimistic option, had him either talk his way out or somehow use what little body weight advantage he had over her to knock her off balance, escape her vicegrip and possibly escape for his life or, if she followed, begin the battle anew.
She let go of his arm, though he didn’t move as the dagger was still held at his throat. She bent down further, her face nearly touching the pavement and her eyes poured into his own. Her smile was soft and, somehow, genuine in her moment of triumph. He found his heart racing, knowing she could feel his chest pounding under the pressure of her own body keeping him in place.
“So about this whole dagger-at-my-throat deal… perhaps it’s best -”
The dagger dropped and her slender finger touched his lips gently, causing him to stop in mid-sentence, stunned by the act.
“Darling, you passed the test with flying colours. You will find a datapad near your docking pad in a small container detailing a job that is double the price of this one. It’s not everyday one can land a hit on me,” she flashed a grin, proving at once her arrogance, and her passion for her trade: bounty hunting.
"Will I ever see you again?" The woman who beat him. The only woman who mattered.
She hesitated, unsure as to whether she should say what she wanted, going out of her comfort zone. He had learned that much from their duel.“You’ll find my method of contact, should you so desire. Until then, sweet dreams, handsome.”
Laren barely realized she had kissed him on the cheek with a tenderness he knew she reserved for very few. His eyes began closing shut. He had fallen for her again, this time a serum that would knock him on conscious. Laren barely noticed as the mystery woman stood up, taking her daggers with her, folding her cloak over her shoulders to rejoin the throng unnoticed, leaving Laren dreaming her floral scent, her immaculately executed fight plan, and the woman of his dreams, quite literally. The woman who had beat him. The woman he would find again. And, possibly, the only thing Laren could come to love in the entire galaxy.