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Author	Topic: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era)
Lord_Zeron Registered: Mar '05	Date Posted: 7/4/05 6:58pm Subject: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era)
	Title: Meeting the Boss Author(s): Lord Zeron Timeframe: During the events of Knight of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords Characters: Vozil, Axilm, Saquesh Genre: Action/Adventure Keywords: Nar Shaddaa, Exchange Summary: Two Falleen brothers arrive at Nar Shaddaa looking to join a galaxy-spanning crime syndicate called the Exchange. Notes: This is a response to OC Challenge number 3, I think. An OC has to make a first impression on a Canon character, in the loosest sense of the word. By the way, Axilm is pronounced Azhilm, with zh sounding like it is in Master Zhar (from KotOR I) or sort of like the sound you would make when trying to immitate a razor. Or, if you'd like, you can just pronounce it Ax-ilm. Anyway, this story takes place on Nar Shaddaa, and the main characters are Falleen, neither of which I know much about, so bear with me. Well, without any further ado, here's the story. All replies are welcome and appriciated. Enjoy! Meeting the Boss Nar Shaddaa. The Smugglers’ moon. Planet of the Criminals. Call it what you wish, it was still the coruscating object that took up most of the Silver Zephyr’s viewshield. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Axilm asked from his position in the pilot’s seat. The autopilot was managing all of the piloting chores, which left Axilm the lone responsibility of gloating to his younger brother. Vozil, who was waiting silently in the small corridor that was the link between the cockpit and the rest of the Zephyr, jumped at his brother’s question. The young Falleen noble hadn’t even known that Axilm had been aware of his entrance. Then again, he had been traveling with his brother so long that he should’ve known the elder sibling was never surprised. Ever. It was like one of the laws of the universe. The day that something surprised Axilm would be the day Rancors flew. “Yes, it is,” Vozil replied. He knew better than to disagree with his brother, it was best to play the roll of unimportant sidekick. Perhaps he could lead Axilm into a false sense of security, it was the best chance he had of getting them both home again. It had been over a decade since either of the two had seen the surface of the Falleen homeworld upon which they had been born. Over a decade since they had felt the warmth of their parents’ embrace, or the clean air of an alien-free world. Of course, a decade to a Falleen wasn’t like a decade to most humanoids. Falleen had extremely long lifespans, many where known to live to be centuries old. Vozil and Axilm were both technically on their “adolescent journey.” The journey was a honored custom among the Falleen elite. All young nobles were sent on a voyage across the galaxy, as a way of proving the superiority of the Falleen race to all others. Vozil had seen this most evidently on the early stages of their journey, and Axilm no doubt had as well. But whereas Vozil desired only to return to the family estate and live a life of alien-free luxury, his sibling had become intent on exploiting the stupidity of other species. This in itself was not something frowned upon on by their kind. Some of the greatest Falleen had made their fortunes offworld, where they had an intellectual advantage in the great arena that was the galaxy. But Axilm had not waited to do so the “normal” way, even though the norm among the Falleen was not leaving the homeplanet at all. No, he had failed to complete a custom part of the Adolescent Journey, the part where the adolescent returns home. The time for that was long past due, and Axilm had been running from his family, or more accurately those working for them, for years now. And, as a consequence, Vozil had been forced to accompany him. The original plan had been for Axilm to watch out for his younger brother; the one that had always gotten into mischief, the one that had always been not quite good enough, the one that had caused many other nobles to have sympathy for his family. But something had changed in both brothers during their journey. It hadn’t been a certain event, a certain instant when the change had occurred. No, it had been much more gradual than that. As the two comrades flew the Zephyr, a small luxury yacht given to them by their parents at the start of their journey, from planet to planet, system to system, and unfortunate situation to unfortunate situation, Axilm had begun to exploit his mental advantage over the pitiful beings they encountered. Soon the problem had become as addictive as Glitterstim to humans or salt to an Arcona. And Axilm was hooked. Vozil had also suffered changes, but his had been for his benefit. As if knowing that Axilm would no longer be there to look out for him, that Axilm in fact would be the one who needed saving from something more self-destructive than any blaster or sword could ever be, a part of Vozil’s brained seemed to have at last awakened. He had soon began to understand what was expected of him, and not long after he had found himself beating the ship’s computer at Strag; a game of not skill, but cunning, resourcefulness, and most of all the ability to outsmart your opponent. The game had sharpened his newly found skill, and he had even begun applying various Strag techniques to the real world. Many of them had indeed proved effective, but Vozil doubted if he was yet ready to challenge his brother in a match of intelligence. Yet Axilm couldn’t keep this up forever, and when he made the slightest mistake, the tiniest error, Vozil would be there, ready to strike a decisive blow that would allow him to take them both back to the family. That was his goal, and had been for the past few months, but such an opportunity had not yet presented itself. But it would, Vozil knew, if he only had patience. He had to out wait his opponent, who was ironically enough sitting not more than a meter away. As long as Vozil maintained the pretense of the inferior sibling, Axilm would underestimate him, and that would be his downfall. And when Axilm had been defeated, when he was either poisoned in the kitchen, stunned in the cargo hold, or immobilized by whatever other means became available, Vozil would take them both home, and would redeem the honor of his family. Their two lost sons would return home, the outcast the hero, and the idol the shamed. And Vozil had no doubt that after a few years on the alien-free surface of the homeworld, Axilm would be back to his normal self, and all of the damage of the past years would be healed once and for all. And now Axilm had taken a crucial step in the game of Strag he did not even know he was playing. For in deciding to come to Nar Shaddaa, a haven for criminals more besmirched than any other, Axilm had just moved a major game piece into play. No other planet in the galaxy had been able to sustain Axilm’s growing love of criminal activity, his disrespect of laws, and his need to prove himself better than any other sentient. The smugglers’ moon would either be the Falleen’s salvation or his downfall. If he found that even the wildness of Nar Shaddaa could not sustain his hunger, there was no telling what he would do. Vozil couldn’t give him the time to become bored with the ways of the planet, if he did then his mission was lost. The Strag match had come to a head, and if there was any move that Vozil could use to win the game, it would be soon. And he would be watching, ever on the lookout for this single move. “Take a seat,” Axilm ordered, gesturing to the copilot’s chair with a green, reptilian hand. Vozil obeyed almost reflexively, and folded his own hands in his lap, doing his best to look nervous. Always playing the part of the inferior sibling. Always. “Shall I call the docking authorities?” Vozil inquired. Of course, he knew what Axilm’s answer would be. He could picture his brother’s smooth, level-toned voice in his head saying: No, we’ll let the docking authorities call us. A moment later, the reply came. “No, let the docking authorities call us.” Wow, almost word for word. He was getting better at the game of predicting his brother. Not that it was too hard, his personality always started the same way, each time they reached a new planet. As they spent time on the planet, it would change Axilm, but by the time the Silver Zephyr was once again leaving a slab of rock towards the emptiness of space, Axilm’s personality would have again reverted to its original form, and extremely arrogant one which told all around him that Axilm was the one in control of the situation, and that they were simply his tools. There was no telling what Nar Shaddaa, a planet that was one big city of crime and anarchy, would do to him. The comm unit chimed, bringing Vozil back to reality. “Don’t just sit there looking dumb, answer it,” Axilm said. He emphasized his words with a slight, slow, nod of his head which resulted in his eyes seeming to point at the Zephyr’s commute station. Vozil flipped the switch, and the image of a blue-skinned Twi’lek male appeared on the monitor in front of him. “Greetings,” the Twi’lek said in heavily accented basic. “Welcome to Nar Shaddaa. May I offer you the services of Vogga the Hutt’s Docking Facilities? We offer a state-of-the-art security system and a location within kilometers of the main attractions of the moon for the modest price of a hundred credits a week.” Vozil glanced at Axilm, who gave his brother a barely visible nod. The former then turned back to the monitor. “We would be honored to use your services,” he said to the Twi’lek. “Very good, the landing coordinates will be sent to your ship’s navicomputer. I would advise not to deviate from the set course, some pilots tend to... ignore the traffic patterns of Nar Shaddaa.” Vozil gave a quick nod of dismissal and turned off the monitor. “Shall I fly?” “No, I’ll do the piloting. I want you to give me a quick briefing, and you tend to make mistakes during your pathetic attempts at multitasking.” Vozil gave a deep, respectful, bow of his head as Axilm took control of the Silver Zephyr. The only reason Axilm kept Vozil around, and they both knew it, was because the younger sibling would study anything and everything about every planet they went to, every person they met, and every rock they would step on. It was a boring job, spending the long days of hyperspace studying from the ship’s large memory core, but somebody had to do it, and Vozil’s knowledge had saved the duo more than once during their journey. Nar Shaddaa had required more studying than most planets, but Vozil had already memorized the basics, and the rest was all downloaded into his handheld datapad. He cleared his throat and organized all of the information about the planet he had stored in his memory. “Around the time of the formation of the Republic itself, no one remembers exactly when, Nar Shaddaa was first settled, on a moon orbiting the swamp planet Evocar. By a few centuries later, it had become a miniature, crime-infested, version of Coruscant. Ten thousand years later, the Hutts somehow lost their own homeworld, and claimed Evocar as their own, which they renamed Nal Hutta or ‘Glorious Jewel.’ This led to Nar Shaddaa’s further decline into criminal activity, as well as a strong economy which allowed the planet-wide city to continue steady growth. When the first few levels were built, they covered the entire moon. There are between three and six of these layers on most parts of the planet. On top of these, huge, towering buildings were created, some of them kilometers wide. These usually rise up about twenty five levels above the surface-covering layers. On top of these large plateau-like buildings, normal-sized buildings were constructed, reaching up as many as thirty more stories into the sky. Now, only the top dozen levels or so of the larger buildings are habitable, with the smaller ones on top of them acting as huge apartment complexes and business offices, among other things.” “So what level are we landing on?” Axilm asked. Vozil was grateful for the chance to catch his breath, and give his voice a rest, however short. “The twentieth, in one of the larger buildings, which is located in one of the busier areas called the Refugee Sector. There’s a set of traffic pylons jetting off of the side. We’re supposed to dock in between pylon’s two and three, one level below the top.” “Have you researched the Exchange?” “Yes, brother. As you know, they’re a major criminal empire on many worlds, but none more so than on Nar Shaddaa. If there was anything on this excuse of a planet that could be called a government, it would be them. The Exchange controls-” “I know all this. How do we get in contact with them?” Vozil swallowed so loud he could hear it. “I could find no information on the subject. Perhaps it would be best to ask one of the l-” “Planning what we do is my job. Finding the facts is yours. Since you couldn’t figure out how to meet with the Exchange, I’ll have to do so myself.” “Yes, brother.” By now, Axilm had guided the ship into its proper spot. The two brothers rose from their seats, Vozil graciously allowed Axilm to exit the cockpit first, and the younger sibling took only a moment to activate the expensive Security Droid they had purchased back on Alderaan. The ship had an extremely advanced security system of its own, but it never hurt to have a backup. Axilm graciously walked down the loading ramp, his black custom-designed robes just barely touching the ground beneath him. Vozil followed behind him, and used a small remote to close and lock up the Zephyr’s entryway. At the door to the docking bay, the blue Twi’lek who had called them was waiting. “Greetings. My name is Fassa, the dock master here. Vogga the Hutt sends his regards.” “Well isn’t that nice of him,” Axilm said sarcastically, striding forward until he was less than a meter away from Fassa. He pronounced his next words slowly and precisely. “You are in my way.” Fassa took a step backwards, but didn’t step aside. “I’d be happy to move, but there is a matter of payment...” Axilm snapped his long fingers. “Vozil, the credits.” Vozil hurried forward as he withdrew a metal credit cube from an inner pocket of his robes. He handed it to Fassa, who activated it, causing a glowing red 400 to appear in the air. “Very well. It was a pleasure doing business with you. If there is anything you need, feel free-” Without missing a beat, Axilm finished the Twi’lek’s sentence for him. “-to remove your worm-like head from your body, because by the very fact that you are still speaking, you are interfering with my needs. The need for you to get out of my way, if you wish to be specific.” Fassa didn’t reply; he simply moved a few meters out of Axilm’s reach. The two Falleen proceeded past him and into a waiting turbolift, which took them up one floor to the highest level of the docks. They arrived in another hallway, which led them outside onto a large walkway that spanned most of this side of the building. A tunnel led them back into the enormous building, where they emerged in a central square courtyard constructed around a large pit, much like those found in many of the larger malls throughout the galaxy. A metal railing made up the perimeter of the pit, and as Vozil looked over the edge he could see other public courtyards at the center of the levels both above and below them, although none below showed any signs of intelligent life. Remembering his duty as the information holder, Vozil quickly cleared his throat, and said quietly so that only his brother could hear him, “Many of the larger buildings, such as the one we’re now in, are constructed around a large shaft that runs the length of the building. Most levels have public squares that surround these shafts. The actual facilities and structures are built into the walls between the public squares and the outside of the building, which are usually about fifty meters thick.” Axilm acknowledged him with another simple nod, but it was enough to tell Vozil that he needed to hear no more. If he did at a later time, he would ask. The elder brother marched strait in front of a male Human who was, judging by his simple choice of clothing, nothing more than a common citizen. The Human, probably assuming that his and Axilm’s paths had literally crossed only by accident, stepped to his left in an attempt to go around the Falleen. Axilm took a single step backwards, again putting himself purposely in the Human’s way. He spun around ninety degrees on his right heel, so that his face and that of the Human were mere centimeters away. Vozil noted that Axilm was the taller of the two by almost half a head. Before Axilm had a chance to speak, the Human looked him up and down, as if trying to decide whether he stood a chance against him. Finally arriving at the decision that it wasn’t worth the risk, he said, “Is there something you need?” Vozil watched from a safe distance as his brother put a green hand around the humans neck, and lifted him a few centimeters off of the ground. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Where is the nearest Cantina?” The Human gulped. I know how it feels, Vozil thought to himself. The mammal raised his right hand to point at a shining doorway on an adjacent wall of the courtyard to the one that led to the docks. “In there, make a right,” he said nervously. At the same time, Vozil spotted the human’s right hand reaching behind his back, as if withdrawing something off of his belt. The entire confrontation was over almost before the light given off by the blaster bolt reached Vozil’s eyes. Axilm had somehow known that he was about to be shot before it happened. As soon as the blaster was in the Human’s hand, the Falleen dug his claw-like nails into his neck until they drew blood. Axilm’s unfortunate victim reflexively dropped the blaster as both hands flung to his neck, trying to pry the Falleen’s away, but to no avail. The blaster fired as it hit the ground, but it didn’t appear to hit any of the onlookers that were now starting to watch the conflict. Axilm took a few steps closer to the railing and with one shift motion threw the Human over the ledge. His screams echoed all the way down, until they ended with a soft Thud. Axilm glanced around him, staring each of the curious onlookers in the eye. When it appeared that none wanted to challenge him, he resumed his walk towards the lighted doorway that the Human had pointed out. Vozil quickly scurried after his brother, almost running to catch up to Axilm’s long strides. Neither of them spoke as they turned the corner around the square shaft, and arrived at the entrance that was their destination. A large sign above the open door read: Entertainment Promenade. It was highlighted in brilliant pink neon lights, just like the other decorative designs around the door. “Stay hear, and wait until I come out,” Axilm whispered into Vozil’s ear. “Yes, brother,” he replied, as his sibling entered the building. Vozil glanced around to try to find either a dark corner where he wouldn’t be seen or something to do so he didn’t look like he was being a lookout. The only nearby corners were to either side of the entrance to the Entertainment Promenade, which were easily visible in the doorway’s pink lights. Nearby, however, in a small corner of the courtyard, a Duros merchant had set up shop. Vozil decided that this would be a good excuse for standing around, and he might actually find something useful to buy. “Hello, my Falleen friend,” the merchant said. “My name is Oondar. Would you be interested in viewing what I have in stock?” Vozil nodded, pretending to be barely interested, which wasn’t far from the truth. “Go ahead, I have nothing better to do.” He spend an abnormally long time looking over each sword, blaster, and other item, pretending to actually be interested. Finally deciding on a small scope upgrade for the field survival pistol up his sleeve, Vozil payed Oondar a hundred credits, and then turned around just in time to see Axilm emerging from the Entertainment Promenade. Quickly putting the new scope into his pocket, and walking over to his brother, Vozil asked, “Did you find what you needed?” “Yes, a female Twi’lek told me everything I needed to know. And she was intoxicated as well, almost too easy.” Vozil understood what his brother meant, the Falleen species, both males and females, could secrete pheromones from their skin that could attract almost any bipedal species in the known galaxy. It was a very useful tool in gathering information or persuading others, especially those whose species were similar in appearance to Falleen. Axilm was now leading them completely around the central pit, past the tunnel through the building wall that led to the docks, and to a closed door exactly opposite from the door leading to the Entertainment Promenade. “Is this the Exchange base?” Vozil asked cautiously. He usually tried not to ask questions. If there was anything he needed to know, his brother would tell him. On most occasions where he asked questions anyway he was scolded and sometimes even punished. But even Axilm had rare moments of kindness, and would sometimes answer Vozil’s inquiries. Especially during those times when he could inform Vozil just how stupid his question was, and prove how much more he knew. This was one of these times. “No, Vozil, this is not the Exchange Base. The Exchange does not have a base, or if they did average citizens wouldn’t know its location. This is the Refugee Quadrant, where the Exchange keeps the refugees captive so that they can tax them and sell them into slavery. There’s an Exchange Overseer here called Saquesh. He’s not very high ranking, but at least it’s a start.” Axilm hit the controls to opened the door, and Vozil followed him into the building. They had barely stepped inside when two thugs, a pig-like Gammorrean and a Human, both male, looked up from their Pazaak Game and spotted them. The thugs both quickly stood up, and the Gammorrean intimidatingly drew a large ax. “Where you think you’re going?” he asked in sloppy Basic as he pointed a large, chubby finger at the Falleen. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” Axilm replied. He quickly amended, “But I know that I’m going into the Refugee Quadrant. Whether the two of you still have your heads after I have passed, depends on what you do next.” The Gammorrean opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He appeared to be trying to figure out the meaning of Axilm’s comment. The Human’s brain seemed to work a bit faster, which didn’t surprise Vozil. Although the majority of Humans were just as bad as most other aliens, the species had a wide variety of personalities, and had produced a few individuals at the same levels of the Falleen. Gammorreans, on the other hand, had yet to produce a single being that could even scratch and drink water at the same time. “Hey, we’re not the kind to be easily intimdidiated. They only-” Axilm interrupted. “Then it’s a good thing I’m trying to intimidate you, not intimdidiate you.” The Human’s confusion was evident on his pale face. “Whatever. As I was saying, if you want to go through, you have to be a refugee or you gotta pay us. And you ain’t no refugee.” “Oh really?” Axilm taunted. “What if I told you I was a refugee?” “You’re no refugee,” the Human replied. “I can tell by the way you’re dressed.” Axilm crossed his arms and somehow his robes seemed to ripple, but Vozil quickly dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. “That sounds like a stereotype to me. And I don’t like stereotypes very much.” The Gammorrean seemed to be getting bored with the conversation between his partner and Axilm, so he put an end to it. Once again jabbing a thick finger in the Falleens’ direction, he shouted, “Look, you give us money, or we give you pain.” Axilm raised a much thinner finger to his chin, as if pondering his choices. Apparently speaking to himself, he said, “So either you give us money, or we give you pain. Well, I guess I’ll choose the first one: you give us money.” “Good,” the Gammorrean said. He reached into a pocket, as if trying to find some credits, when the Human stopped him. “Gront, what are you doing?” “I... um...” Vozil saw the realization in Gront’s eyes. “Hey, you trick me!” “Look,” Axilm said. “I’m getting pretty tired of this annoying and pointless conversation. Last chance: move or die.” The Human answered this one. “And as I said, we don’t take threats.” He reached into his leather jacket for the blaster that was undoubtedly hidden there, and Vozil took a step back. Here we go again. As Vozil was waiting for Axilm to make his move, the Gammorrean Gront put a strong hand on his partner’s blaster arm. “Wait. Maybe... uh... we could let him go through. Just this once, y’know?” The Human stared strait into Axilm’s reptilian eyes, something Vozil had never had the courage, or the stupidness, to do, and scratched the stubble on his chin before saying, “Alright. I guess you can go in.” Vozil could tell that his brother was smiling, even though he could only see the back of Axilm’s head. “Smart move. Vozil, come.” Upon hearing his name, Vozil snapped to attention and quickly followed his brother past the guards. He led them through a doorway to another, larger room, and walked up to a door to his right. Vozil noticed that it was locked, and said as much to his brother. “I already know that,” was his monotone reply. “And by implying that I don’t you are insulting my intelligence. Do not do it again.” Vozil bowed his head low in a gesture of servitude. “I apologize, great brother. I meant no offense.” Axilm was now inserting some sort of needle-shaped device into a small computer port in the door’s locking panel. “Whether you meant any offense is not the question, the only thing that matters is that it was offensive.” Vozil expected him to say as much, but he had intended the statement to be received that way. If it lowered Axilm’s opinion of his intelligence, it was worth it. All to better the chance of Axilm underestimating his little brother. All part of the plan. “There,” Axilm commented as the door slid open. “Follow me.” Like I’d ever do otherwise. The elder brother led the pair into a maze of hallways and rooms. It wasn’t more than half a standard minute before they ran into a Twi’lek thug. “Oh, are you the new help?” he asked. Without any hesitation, Axilm answered, “Fortunately for the Exchange, yes I am. Could you tell me the way to Saquesh’s office?” The Twi’lek seemed to consider it for a moment. He retreated into the room he had come from, and yelled, “Hey, I’ll be back in five. If I’m not back by the time you’re done, unload the adrenaline stims next.” He then walked back out into the hallway and closed the door behind him. “Right this way.” It took them another minute of walking down that hallway, up a hoverlift, down another hallway, and then turning down a large corridor, before they finally arrived at their destination. “This is the Overseer’s office,” the Twi’lek explained. “This entire place used to be a luxurious restaurant. The Exchange makes its base in the private dining rooms and kitchens. The Refugees are kept in what used to be the main dining area, and the Serroco Thugs make their territory in the storage room. Stay away from them whenever you can, they’re much tougher than the other refugees. Oh, and one more piece of advice, make a good first impression on the Overseer, or else you’ll regret it.” Without waiting for a reply, the head-tailed humanoid turned around and walked back towards the hoverlift. Vozil expected his brother to open the door and march in to speak with Saquesh, and was thus surprised when the Falleen spun around 180 degrees. “Listen carefully, for I will only say this once. This may be the most important job of my life, and you will not destroy it. Stand proud and tall, a half meter behind me and just to my right, so that if you were standing next to me my right shoulder would be touching your left. Do not say anything unless I tell you to. Is this understood?” “Yes, brother, I understand,” Vozil replied almost by reflex. For a moment, Axilm looked as if he might say something else, but deciding against it he quickly turned around and opened the door. Well, Axilm didn’t seem to be in a good mood today. He was right however, first impressions were often very important, perhaps more so in their line of work than most others. The only people Axilm usually had to give impressions to was his victims, but to make his boss like him would be an entirely different challenge. Vozil wondered if his brother was up to it, but decided it would at least be an interesting conversation to watch. So he mentally shrugged his shoulders, and decided to follow his brother’s orders. If Saquesh was as long-term an ally as the elder Falleen hoped he would be, Vozil would have to make his own first impression on the Exchange Overseer as well. Luckily, this was an impression he was more than used to giving, if not to his brother’s victims then at least to his brother himself. He would play the part of the inferior sibling, and he would play it splendidly, as usual. Axilm strode three steps into the room before stopping in his tracks. Vozil, still consumed on his thoughts and only half paying attention, barely stopped himself before running into his brother. They were not in the office of an Exchange Executive, they were in a pig sty. Literally. The rectangular room appeared to have once been a kitchen, and its current purpose was not much different. Two Gammorreans sat on metal stools in front of one of the counters, using their hands to eat some sort of brown mush from two large bowls. They didn’t even notice the two Falleen as they entered the room, which wasn’t surprising because of the loud grunting noises they were making as they ate. To get there attention, Axilm cleared his throat. When the Gammorreans didn’t seem to hear him, he did it again, louder this time. They still didn’t appear to have heard him, so Axilm loudly said, “Excuse me,” which caused one of the Gammorreans to nearly fall off of his stool. “What you want?” he asked. “I was wondering if you could tell me where Overseer Saquesh is?” The Gammorean snorted loudly, and then pointed to a door opposite the one they entered from. “He be in there. But we need password ‘fore we let you in.” “Oh, of course,” Axilm said. Vozil wondered how his brother was going to get past this obstacle, but if worse came to worse he could always just take out the guards without too much trouble. However, Saquesh might not like that too much, and as Axilm himself had implied, it was important to make a good first impression, especially on those who could help you. But Vozil had no doubt that his brother would find someway past the pig-like aliens, so he stood back and watched the scene unfold. “The password is-” Axilm suddenly stopped mid-sentence, and tilted his head as if trying to listen to a distant sound. “Did you hear that?” he asked the Guards. “Hear what?” one asked. “It sounded like an assassin, right down the hallway.” The two Gammorreans looked at each other, and one said “Let’s go.” As they both drew their large axes off of their belts and ran out the door, Axilm approached the door to Saquesh’s office. “Well, that was easier than I had expected,” he said as he once again inserted the needle-shaped object into the door’s control panel. Must be some kind of slicing tool, Vozil speculated. “A good plan, my brother. Those Gammorreans truly are more foolish than most other species.” Axilm didn’t choose to dignify Vozil’s comment with a response, and a moment later the door opened. Axilm strode proudly, but not arrogantly, into the next room, charisma radiating from his skin. Not all of a Falleen’s pheromones were used for attracting the opposite sex, a few could be used to change the emotions of nearby sentients. Vozil switched his own on, since many beings judged others by those they associated with. He then took his place to his brother’s right and a half-meter behind him, just as previously instructed. The room was medium sized, about twice as large as Vozil’s room on the Silver Zephyr. It was rectangular, and the door they had just entered through was in the middle of one of the longer walls. The opposite wall was a pane of blue-tinted transparasteel that looked out over a huge room, probably the main dining room where the Refugees were kept, Vozil speculated. In the center of the room, with his back to the window, was a well-dressed Quarren sitting behind a large, metal desk. So this is the great Saquesh, Vozil said to himself. A quick glance left and right told him that the only other people in the room were a pair of Weequay thugs, one standing against each of the side walls. Each of them was holding a blaster rifle across his chest, and had a vibrosword dangling from his belt. Saquesh immediately rose to his feet. “How did you get in here?” he barked. So much for first impressions. We haven’t ever said a word yet, and the guy hates us. “I apologize for barging in here, but I wasn’t sure how to get in contact with you,” Axilm said. “Yes, well, you don’t find the Exchange; the Exchange finds you.” “Of course, please forgive my rudeness.” Axilm bowed deeply, which was a universal symbol of respect. “Perhaps I will forgive you at a later time, but at the present, you are still standing in front of me in my own private office, and I have no idea why.” “Then allow me to remedy that,” Axilm said. Saquesh gave a slight nod, indicating that he should continue. Vozil kept his spot near the back wall, and watched his brother’s reply with great interest. The time for first impressions was now, and as of yet it could still go either way. “My name is Axilm,” the Falleen began. “I am, how should I put this, a... expert freelance operative.” “In other words, you’re a mercenary,” the Quarren replied as if he was already bored with the proceedings. “A mercenary willing and able to work for the Exchange,” Axilm corrected. “I am an expert in all sorts of combat -melee, blasters, martial arts- as well as a decent pilot and above average slicer. I am also good at planning and extremely resourceful which makes me the perfect choice for an assassin, bounty hunter, or spy. Lastly, I...” Axilm raised a finger to his chin again. Vozil knew he was only pretending to think, Falleen rarely hesitated when speaking, and they never showed expressions. Axilm’s show was just to make him seem more Human, for lack of a better term, and make Saquesh more comfortable around him. “No, I think that’s it actually.” “I stand corrected,” Saquesh said. This shocked Vozil, but of course he didn’t let it show, because Quarren as a whole could be very stubborn. “So you’re a very skilled mercenary.” Axilm smiled, as if the two were sharing a friendly joke. “You could call it that, yes. I still prefer ‘expert freelance operative.’ Either way, I have decided that the Exchange is the only organization powerful enough to utilize my full potential. And that’s why I have come here.” The Quarren looked as the chrono on his wrist. “Not bad, you managed to hide your actual intent longer than most humans or other species normally do.” Oh no, Vozil thought. Perhaps Axilm should’ve just gotten strait to the point. “Although still not as long as a Quarren, I might add.” Vozil made a mental expression similar to a Human’s eyes widening. So Saquesh admires people who take their time getting to the point. Perhaps Axilm is making a good first impression after all. Since Saquesh’s comment required no reply, Axilm didn’t give one. The Quarren, no doubt suddenly feeling awkward, sat back down in his chair, and pulled a datapad out of a drawer in his desk. He looked back up at the two Falleen and said, “Well, the Exchange is always in the market for some good agents, I think we could use you.” He turned his blue-eyes to look at Vozil. “Who is this?” Vozil wasn’t sure who the question was addressed to, but Axilm spared him from deciding whether or not to answer by speaking for him. “This is my assistant, Vozil. He keeps information for me, among other things.” Saquesh typed something into his datapad and then asked, “And what was your name again?” “Axilm.” He entered the name into his datapad and then said, “Well, an agent with all of your talents would be very useful to us indeed. If what you say is true.” “I assure you that it is,” Axilm quickly said. “Oh, I believe you.” Saquesh’s four face-tentacles came together around his clawed mouth. Vozil wasn’t sure what the gesture meant, the last Quarren he had met was three years ago back on Malastare. “But just to be sure, why don’t you prove it. I wouldn’t want to look foolish in front of my superiors, you know.” “I understand completely,” Axilm answered. “What would you like me to do in order to prove my skills?” Saquesh’s upper tentacles starting wiggling. “You proved your slicing skills by gaining entrance to our base, and I have no doubt that you can pilot a ship. So why don’t you show me how good you can fight, and I’ll believe your other skills as well. After all, why would you lie about some talents, but not others?” It was a rhetorical question, which Axilm thankfully realized. How embarrassing it would’ve been for him to prove his stupidity by giving an answer to a question that needed none. “What would you have me do?” Saquesh’s tentacles came together again, as he glanced to his two Weequay bodyguards on either side of the room. “I want you to take out both of my bodyguards, without injuring them. You may use blasters, swords, hands, feet, or any other weapons you wish to use, but no explosives. I rather like my office, and some of my furniture is quite expensive. My guards will also use any weapons at their disposal, but will be aiming to kill you. If you can take them both out with no hostilities, you have a job. Does Vozil wish to join in the fight as well?” Axilm took only a moment to reply. “No, he will stand back and watch. Perhaps he may even learn something.” Vozil knew that he alone would’ve stood a good chance of taking out the two bodyguards, but his brother was right in assuming that he was the better of the two when it came to combat. Plus, Vozil had an energy shield equipped on his arm, which could absorb three or four blaster bolts if needed. Axilm, on the other hand, had never used an energy shield, or at least not in front of his brother. Clever, Vozil thought as he admired Saquesh’s plan. If the guards won, as the Quarren no doubt expected, then life could go back to normal, nothing lost. But if Axilm won, it would be proof of his skill, and that would mean a very valuable asset for the Exchange. “Then if you are ready-” “-let’s begin,” Axilm finished for him. As the two Weequay bodyguards raised and began to aim their blaster rifles, Axilm sprung into motion. At the same time, Vozil took a step backwards to put himself out of the way of the fight. Meanwhile, his brother had leapt through the air, over Saquesh’s desk, and landed behind the Quarren’s large chair. The two Weequay didn’t dare risk shooting their boss, who was now getting down under his metal desk. A moment later, two scarlet energy bolts came out from behind the chair, each hitting one of the circular lights in the ceiling of the room. Now the only illumination came from the transparasteel panel in the back wall. The entire opposite half of the room, where Vozil was standing, was cast into deep shadow. Just to be on the safe side, Vozil sat on the floor with his knees in front of him, and his head watching the fight from between them. It might make him look cowardly, but it reduced his chance of being shot. And Vozil would rather be alive and a coward over dead and brave any day. To the left and right sides of the room, the two Weeqay still had their blaster rifles trained on their boss’s chair. They glanced at each other, and one of them used his head to gesture at the chair. His partner slowly approached the desk, begin careful to keep his blaster rifle pointed in front of him. A shadow leapt out from behind the chair, heading towards the left side of the room. Scarlet fire lanced out from two twin rifles, and multiple bolts hit the shadow as it fell to the floor. But Vozil wasn’t worried, not just because he knew his brother wouldn’t be defeated so easily, but also because he had noticed a second shadow dash out from behind the chair towards the right side of the room, a moment after the first had. The leftmost guard rushed over to the fallen shadow, and activated a glow stick. Before his eyes even had time to comprehend what they were seeing, rings of blue stun energy, apparently from the other Weequay, slammed into him, knocking him unconscious. At the same time, Vozil spotted the other guard fall to the ground, revealing another shadow standing behind him, stun baton in one hand, and blaster in the other. Saquesh, having crawled out from under the desk to sit back in his chair, clapped his hands in admiration. “Well done. Very well done, indeed.” He stood up and reached down to pick up the robe laying beneath one of his fallen guards. “A pity you had to sacrifice such a beautiful garment, however.” Axilm stepped out from the shadows into the light of the window, and Vozil noticed that the stun baton and blaster had both disappeared. “Oh, I don’t think so.” He moved around the front of the desk and grabbed his cloak from Saquesh. Spread out in the light of the window, it was obvious that the cloak had not suffered any serious damage. “It’s made out of the silk from the extremely rare Zuu Worms of Makdorm IV. Highly resistant to energy weapons, even Jedi lightsabers to a degree. It disperses energy throughout the entire fabric, instead of allowing it to concentrate at a single point. Not as heavy or restricting as Cortosis, however it can get extremely hot after a shot or two. But I figure that third-degree burns are easier to deal with than blaster wounds.” “Very interesting,” Saquesh commented as he once again took his seat behind the desk. “Well, you’ve passed my test. Consider yourselves employees of the Exchange.” “Thank you, Overseer,” Axilm said with a slight bow. “I foresee this as the beginning of a long and profitable relationship.” Vozil had to smile inwardly as he heard this. Where have I heard that before? -----signature----- Heart of the Sith (KotOR-era, Action/Adventure): http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/29384282/p1/?2 Links to all my stories can be found at The Sith Archives: http://www.freewebs.com/lord_zeron/
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Rogue_Pilot_2347 Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 7/5/05 4:13am Subject: RE: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era)
	Cool Story. I like that idea -----signature----- The Ultimate poetry Challenge: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=26190468&brd=10304&replies=6 Two Halves of the Same Whole: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=27517831&brd=10476&replies=0 *For the 2nd drabble challenge
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VaderLVR64 Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Feb '04	Date Posted: 7/5/05 8:49am Subject: RE: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era)
	Very nicely done! -----signature----- Team Eric: Because undead never looked so good. Soldiers' Angels http://soldiersangels.org/ 2114 soldiers waiting for someone to care
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the_wandering_shadow Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 7/5/05 9:22am Subject: RE: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era)
	Oh, this is great! I really enjoyed it. Will there be any more, or was this a one shot deal? I think this showcased your writing ability very well, either way in fact, it might be even better than my response to this challenge. Don't mean to sound arrogant, I just know I'm a good writer and I get hooked on my stories, especially with the hours I put into them and live them. Really, a fabulous job Zeron -----signature----- Daniel Paul Harms (1958-2007) Seph Danthar's diary @ http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/29688948/p1/ lordmaul13's partner in crime
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Lord_Zeron Registered: Mar '05	Date Posted: 7/5/05 4:26pm Subject: RE: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era) - Date Edited: 7/5/05 4:30pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Lord_Zeron
	Rogue_Pilot_2347: Thanks. The criminal idea was very fun to write as well. VaderLVR64: I'm glad you liked it. the_wandering_shadow: Wow, thanks! That's a real compliment coming from an author like you. I'm not sure if I'm going to write any more or not. I wasn't planning on it when I started, but perhaps I will if I ever get the sudden urge to write something or if I can work it into another challenge. I know what you mean by putting hours into a story. I was afraid that I wouldn't get it done in time for the challenge, thank goodness for the extended deadline. Thank you all for reading and replying! -----signature----- Heart of the Sith (KotOR-era, Action/Adventure): http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/29384282/p1/?2 Links to all my stories can be found at The Sith Archives: http://www.freewebs.com/lord_zeron/
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Lola64 Registered: Mar '05	Date Posted: 7/5/05 7:15pm Subject: RE: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era)
	This was a great story. I really got into it. First off I just have to say: sort of like the sound you would make when trying to immitate a razor. You immitate razors? Razor's make sound? Oh yeah, electric razors. I got it now. Just a little slower than others I am. The day that something surprised Axilm would be the day Rancors flew. Whether the two of you still have your heads after I have passed, depends on what you do next. He sure thinks he's something don't he? Again this was great. Your Axilm made an impression alright. Now I need to see what Vozil's going to do to him. That screams for more. More! More! -----signature----- Kyp/Nurse Lola: the new ship I stalk people. It's a Lola thing. Been gone and is now back. Did you miss me?
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amidalachick Registered: Aug '03	Date Posted: 7/6/05 6:18am Subject: RE: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era)
	Awesome story! I always like reading well-written OC stories, and you've done a fantastic job with this one! -----signature----- "Special day? What have I forgot now? Don't panic...is it Bacon Day? No, that's crazy talk! She's getting impatient - take a stab at it! Happy...Valentine's Day?"
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Healer_Leona Title: Manager Emeritus Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 7/6/05 6:46am Subject: RE: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era)
	Well done story and OC. Axilm is an interesting character to say the least. -----signature----- I've been waiting so long to be where I'm going
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Lord_Zeron Registered: Mar '05	Date Posted: 7/6/05 8:07pm Subject: RE: Meeting the Boss (OC Challenge Response, KotOR Era)
	Lola64: I got it now. Just a little slower than others I am lol. I was trying to think of a good way to describe it, and that was the best I had. Of course, as I was writing and re-reading it I pronounced it Axilm even though I knew it was meant to be Azhilm, and I'm sure others will to, but I don't mind at all. After all, it's really the character that's important, not the name. Yup, Axilm has a very high opinion as himself. And in the words of Luke Skywalker: "You're overconfidence is your weakness." amidalachick: Thanks for the kind words, I'm glad Axilm is as interesting as I intended him to be. It's strange how when I start out with an idea for a character, the result is always much different. Not that that's a bad thing, the character just seems to sort of take on a life of their own. Healer Leona: Thanks. I'm glad you liked the story and Axilm. I'll probably update this sometime, although I'm not sure if it'll be anytime really soon. If anyone would like me to PM them if/when it's updated, I'd be moret than happy too. Once again, thank you all for your great replies. -----signature----- Heart of the Sith (KotOR-era, Action/Adventure): http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/29384282/p1/?2 Links to all my stories can be found at The Sith Archives: http://www.freewebs.com/lord_zeron/
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