Credit Where Credit's Due (Closed)

Poprockz

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A Mandalorian stood tucked away in a grimy back-alley, looking stoic and unbothered. One typically did when they wore armor that completely covered their face. Under the surface though, Gra'tia Wren was nervous to say the least. She was there to meet a smuggler, one who had a reputation for neutrality in the sense that they didn't pick sides- they picked coin. That was exactly the sort of person she needed right now, but one always had to be cautious when one's adversaries had deeper pockets. There were few who could truly be trusted, so it was best to mistrust everyone and expect betrayal down the road. That being said, if one didn't attempt to forward their own cause, then it was tantamount to being defeated anyway. The chance of success was enough for her to risk such a meeting.

She was tall, her beskar armor's dull shine helping her to blend in. Her armor was a sandy color with silver accents, though some of her armor was comprised of other metals as well. Beskar was expensive, and she had hardly earned enough to be given enough to have a full set.

The woman tapped her wrist, the time displaying. He was late.
 
Blasted. Running late. Eh. Setting down in the hanger bay, offloading the cargo from my previous job took too long. Blasted customers are so picky about the details. Still, they paid the full price. Now it was time to look for another job. Through one of my contacts I was directed to a person in need for my services. Didn't give too much details. Just meet this person at these coordinates. Then we can hammer a deal.

Hopefully this doesn't take long. With the credits gained from my previous job I could get the necessary refitting done for my ship.

No time to improve my image. Standing tall and thin with light brown hair swooped to one side. Squared jaw and smooth cheeks. Dark blue eyes. Large scars up and down my exposed forearms from jobs gone horribly arye. Dirty white shirt and long khaki colored trousers and black leather boots finished out the persona of Redar, the smuggler.

I didn't like this. The dank and bleak streets of the docks. The streets are crowded with people moving back and forth. Visiting the food stands. Clustering together and chatting. Peddlers pushed carts down the streets advertising their wares. A blaster on my hip at all times.

Ships are leaving carrying their cargo for planets elsewhere. I couldn't keep the Outlander in those docks. Those ships are inspected before they leave.

Stepping just off the street an alley way, left fingers teasing my blaster. Eyes looking up and around at the long and dark shadows while people talked and walked behind me. I asked myself, 'Okay, where is this person I'm suppose to meet?;
 
Her eyes fixed upon him as he came into view, and soon she recognized that he was the man she was looking for. The contact had said to keep an eye out for a man who looked jumpy and had scars down his arms, and this man matched that description. Even now she could see his hand fondling his blaster in case some unknown threat were to jump from the shadows. Best she not surprise him then.

Gra'tia detached herself from the side of the alley and walked to the middle, moving toward him cautiously. Though she didn't have a blaster in her hand at the moment, what she did have was quick reflexes, beskar, and various other attachments that could make his life very messy should he be tempted to fly off the handle.

"Redar, I presume? You and I have business to discuss," she spoke, her voice surprisingly pleasant for the unmoving helmet on her face. Her tone wasn't friendly, but it was indeed cordial enough.
 
Hearing that voice my head snapped in that direction. Heart started to race. Of course it would be coming from the shadows. A figure came out of the darkness. Sounded like a woman. Hard to tell with all the armor. Colorful armor, too. Can't be Imperial. They wouldn't allow these sorts of colors. It would be against their strict regulations. What is happening? This type I have yet to encounter before, and I have been from one side of the Galaxy to the other.

Eyes narrowing and looking this figure over. It didn't have a blaster in hand. Still I kept my eyes on those hands and fingertips just touching my own blaster pistol.

"Yeah. That's me," forcing a confident smirk, "Who might you be?" gently cocking my head to the side. Wow. This person sounded like a woman. Hard to tell with all of the armor. This was my client? Armor covering the body. Certainly wasn't one of the Imperial stormtroopers or their soldiers. The two of us stared at each other.
 
She stopped walking toward him, pausing in silence for a moment or two as though studying him. Did he really not know who she was, or was he feigning ignorance on the off-chance she was someone else? In any case, she would have to introduce herself formally sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner. "I am Gra'tia Wren. I am in need of someone with your skills."

Her voice was still as even as it had been before, but if one was paying attention, they would notice that her stance widened slightly, as though she wanted to be ready for a scuffle if need be.
 
Slowly my eyes looked her over again. Someone is in need of me? Hmm. Well, that's why I am here, right? Always looking for another job. If this person wanted to take me out, I figure, they would have already done it by now. Pretty mysterious, though with the armor. Can't even see their face. Kinda alluring in a way. Part of me wanted to ask what her outfit was all about. No time for that. This was a business meeting. That other stuff comes later.

Pulling away my fingers from the blaster and folding my arms in front of my chest, smirking, "Well, allright then. My name is Redar Balian. Nice to meet you Gra'tia. Tell me, what does a person like yourself need from someone like me?"

As I spoke there was a sudden, and familiar, bark. Jerking my head back to the alleyway entrance two white figures walked on by. Druk. Stormtroopers. They didn't see us. Good. That just means we need to be cautious.
 
Upon seeing them, she had moved herself more into the shadows against the wall, waiting until they were gone to detach herself once more. She wasn't happy to see either, perhaps more than he was, even. She was definitely a wanted woman where the empire was concerned, and she didn't want them to catch even a sniff of her if she could help it.

"Would it be at all possible to move this meeting somewhere more quiet? I have a room at the Kragenshall down the street, unless there's another place you would like to suggest." Everyone knew that the Kragenshall was a brothel masquerading as an inn. True, one could get rooms there, but it was mostly used for whoring, drinking, and other illicit activities. One thing you could depend on though, was that the place was considered neutral territory by criminals and law enforcement alike. After all- no matter what side you were on, most enjoyed getting their dicks wet.
 
Oooh. Now there's someone that's speaking my langauge. Months running jobs kinda leaves a man thirty, and not just for liquor. "I don't see why not. I really do need to wet whistle," continuing to hold my smirk at her but dropping my hands to my side. "Let's go then. I'll buy us a round!" curling an arm as if beckoning her to follow along.

Working alone has left me seriously lacking in social graces. She wasn't a lap dog. By the time I realized this, it was already too late. That's something that will sit inside my mind for awhile. All the more reason to get some of that good stuff in me to forget it.

Not wanting to take one to the back, I wanted to walk side by side with this person. Not behind, or in front for the same reason. This was to keep both of us at ease. My left hand gently patted the pouch on that hip. That's where I kept all the extra credits from my last job. After paying off for fuel, supplies, and that refit, there was well more than enough for me to enjoy myself for awhile. I liked to pat that pouch and hear the muffled jingle. The clicking of metal credits was music to my ears.
 
She stared at him, nothing giving away what she may or may not have thought of his gesture. He seemed an odd man, to be sure, but at the same time he seemed uncharacteristically generous for someone who didn't have a cause other than coin. Perhaps he enjoyed flaunting the wealth he had managed to accumulate. Regardless, coin was not something that she could afford to spend needlessly, so at the very least she was glad to save some coin on his drink.

The woman walked out of the alleyway and toward the brothel at a pace that wasn't meant to leave him behind, but also wasn't leisurely. Now that she was in the light, her body was more visible and was obviously that of a woman's. Her armor was practical and for the primary purpose of protection, but it couldn't hide the shape of her, the slight swell of her chest or narrowness of her waist.

"I don't drink on the job, but thank you," was the only reply he got.
 
Aw. Well, that just means more for me! Damn. She walks fast. Deliberately walking to catch up, I got to admire her figure before coming abreast of her. That's a fine figure. Wonder what that armor was hiding. My mind was slapping itself. Focus. Can't be caught oogling the clients. Sets a bad example.

We walked past the food vendors. Getting wiffs of their aroma. Kept my fingers on my pouches. Pick pockets are everywhere. The Empire tries to crack down but there are always desperate people. Desperate people do desperate things in order to survive. That's part of life out here.

Walking abreast and glancing every so often, while weaving through the throngs of people in our path, I get to look at this woman a lot closer. Had some curves on her. Everything was hidden by that helmet. You can tell a lot about a person by looking at their faces. Normally I could get a bead on someone if I could see their faces. Those involuntary twitches, the flicks of the eyes, and such could convey a person's true intent. She was being smart in hiding it. Everything about her was a mystery. It was certainly alluring the more I thought about it.
 
They were almost through the crowd to their destination when two children who were giggling and laughing ran past. The first one simply passed by, the second one bumped into her. Immediately, she whipped around and grabbed the child's wrist. Her reflexes were quick as a viper, and one could see the coin purse in the child's hand, presumably having been on its way to be tucked into her loose shirt.

Gra'tia looked her with that inscrutable helmet, the child's face almost seeming like a foil to her as blatantly terrified as it was. However, the mandalorian simply plucked the coin purse out of her hand, then let go of the child's wrist.

"I'm sorry, I need my coin. Better luck next time." With that, she turned away and kept walking as though nothing had happened. She was sympathetic to the child's plight, but she had plights of her own and children to protect as well. A bleeding heart didn't have enough water in it to put out all the fires in the world.

Ah, there it was, the Kragenshall. They had finally arrived.
 
Blasted kids. When she snapped around and grabbed the pouch, my hand spun and grasped my blaster pistol. She let the little thief go. Shaking my head in digust, watching them disappear into the crowd. This woman has some skill. It was impressive, having the pouch back in hand before I could even finish turning.

I was starting to like her.

Continued walking. Left hand firmly grasping my credit pouch, eyeing every figure going by.

There was the Kragenshall. Busy place. Two heavy bouncers waited outside the front entrance. Shows how much exictement this place gets every night. She's the one that had a room here. So she said. Makes sense to let her approach the bouncers first. "After you," holding out a hand to the front door.

As we approached the door slid open allowing two people to stumble out. They yelled back in another langauge and came marching back towards the door. One of the heavy bouncers gave no warning and slammed its huge fist into their faces, knocking them both down. Then the second picked them up and threw them back onto the street.

Yeah. She's definately going first.
 
One of big bouncers eyed her as she approached- he didn't seem to remember her. No matter, she knew she had a right to be inside. The Mandalorian took a pink and gold card out of her pouch and held it up, "I have a room. Please let me and my friend in."

The bouncer leaned in, scratching his junk not-so discreetly as he examined her card of entrance. "Yea, tha' looks legit-amate. Whas the password then?"

There was a pause as though she was trying to recall. It was hard to discern, but if one had a very keen ear they could hear a slight sigh of resignation from under the helmet before she answered, "Pussy like a Sarlak pit."

A roaring laugh came from the mountain of muscle before he settled down, wiping a tear with one of his three thick fingers, "thas the password, yea. Go in. Heh."

She looked at Redar before walking past the guard, obviously expecting him to follow her.
 
Flicking my eyes at these bouncers. Their large eyes leering at me as we walked past. Then they looked at her back. When we stepped inside the door closed. Through the door I could hear them cackling. Taking delight in what they are doing. Inside my mind, 'A Sarlak Pit'? Oy! That's a mental image, looking in and seeing row upon row of teeth. Sharp teeth, too.

The inside looked better than the outiside. The interior was hoping. On stage some lovely creatures are putting on a show to the delight of on lookers. At the bar they serviced patrons with the good hooch. Waitresses catered to their every need. There was music. Laughter. Plenty of seats.

"This is my kind of place!" my smile starting to widen. Even smelled nice.

Looking around I spotted a small booth off in the corner, in the shadows. This woman may like that. Plus it gave us some privacy away from the prying eyes of the other patrons. Looking at them, there were off duty officers. Smugglers. Pirate scum. They left their business at the door.

"Let's get that place over there, and we can discuss our little business venture" speaking to her and leaning in to whisper.
 
"Yes, I agree." She nodded at him and strode over to the booth, taking a seat just as one of the servers came over. It was a pretty, brunette human with large breasts and large doe-eyes to match. She was wearing a lovely red bikini top with a matching skirt that was long in the back and short in the front. Looking at her, she imagined that she would be very popular with the men who liked their mistresses looking more innocent than slutty.

"Hello, can I get you two something to drink? The special today is the Ambrosia and the Siiyek's Delight. Or if you like, I can get you a menu to look over our drinks... among other things. The waitress winked at the smuggler, her long-eyelashes resting on her cheek for but a moment before coming back up.
 
I know that look. That was the look of hunger. Months on the job and not having companionship, I wasn't going to let this one pass me by. Letting emotions dictate my actions, for a moment I completely forgot about the woman that was sitting next to me.

"Sure, I could use a menu," eyeing the server's fine figure. Reaching into my pouch, fingertips touching the bars of credits. Dropped them onto the table and pushed them towards the server. It was far more than enough to cover a pair of drinks.

I really didn't need the menu. It was a deliberately delay tactic so I could keep admiring this burnette. Even at the sake of losing my client, my hunger was overriding my sense of business. My mind was already made up about what I wanted. It wasn't a drink. Maybe a drink for later.

"What about you?" asking my client.
 
She shrugged, "I don't drink."

"Oh come now, you have to drink something," the waitress giggled. "This is an inn, after all. We have loads of stuff. Let me grab you the menu and you can make up your mind when you see what we're offering." Her graceful hand reached out and took the credits, tucking them between her breasts before sauntering away. She didn't leave without giving him a flirty look though, his money obviously having done the trick of getting her attention.

It was hardly a moment before she was back, setting the menus down in front of them. While it was indeed a drink menu, there was also a "specialty drink" section which was clearly a selection of women they had to be ordered for clients who had a different kind of thirst.

Out of politeness, the Mandalorian looked over the menu, another barely audible sigh being heard from under her helmet. "I'll have the maak'daal then," It was the only drink on the menu that didn't have alcohol in it, as it was basically just fruit nectar. The waitress gave her a polite nod, but one could tell that she wasn't particularly impressed by her lower-priced choice.

"And you, sir?" The brunette leaned in, looking over his shoulder at the menu while giving him a very nice view elsewhere.
 
It was odd that someone would refuse a drink. Who would refuse a drink? First she declines my offer and now the server's? For a moment my lower lip turned up. A brief look of disappointment. This woman had the skills but no taste in drinks. Perhaps it was pointless to insist against her any further. Her mind was made up, and if I nagged her, it could end the deal right then and there. She's already shown that she has fast reflexes. Mine were fast. This one looks like she could put two shots into me before I could get my blaster out of the holster.

One eye on the menu and the other on the server. Hmmmm. Going up and down the menu several times. Just when I thought I had the right selection, another thing about her caught my eye. Eyebrows buckling. A lovely selection at the very bottom. The Orryxian. Description says, it "Possesses a firm and buxom body with a sweet center." Oh, I could really use some of that! Yes! That's what I wanted. Hungry eyes flashed.

Finally I settled on it. Putting down the menu and smiling at the brunette, "I'll have the Orryxian," with a warm smile and a nod. That's when I lean back against the rigid seat and pull my arms and place them along the head rest. A long sigh escaped my lips. Now that I can sit easy. Out of my cramped cockpit and enjoying myself.

Making the selection without thinking twice. No regret either. I have been away for months and this is my time to finally relax and enjoy myself. After all, she's willing and I have the credits, what's a little fun, right?
 
"Oh, you have very good taste, sir," the pretty server looked exceedingly pleased at his selection. Of course she did; he had chosen herself, after all. She took both of their menus and quickly went to the bar, obtaining the juice for his sober potential business partner and another drink for him. Part of the deal with that place was that the specialty drink menu did actually get you a drink if anyone asked. Thus, they never got in trouble based on semantics or anything.

When she came back she set their drinks in front of them, paying little attention to the Mandalorian. The mysterious woman didn't seem phased though, as she merely took a small metal item out of a pocket of her armor and elongated it. It was a straw, and she placed it in her juice before leaning over and taking a sip of her drink. She didn't even bother to take off her helmet, leaving it on as she sucked up a bit of nectar.

"So... did you want the specialty part of your drink now, or did you want to wait a little bit, sir?" The brunette asked, leaning over and gently laying a hand on his thigh. At that point, he could see right down the deep crevasse that was her cleavage, his credits no longer wedged between them.
 
I didn't want to wait. I was eager for it right now. For a moment the Mandalorian faded from my view. The only thing in my view was this impressive rack swaying and yearning for me. "Eh. Why wait?" smirking at the brunette woman, slowly pulled my feet apart to allow her to come in. Might as well do it right then and there. "Why don't you bring your pretty little face over here, and let me get a good look at you, sweetie."

Oh, how I missed the warmth of a woman. These massive swaying ta-tas before me are calling out for me. Can't resist them. Just looking at them made me firm up. Mouth dried that I wiped my tongue over my lips several times to keep them moist. Lips peeled back in a wide smile. Eyes fixated on her mounds. They had to be real considering how soft they appeared, and how freely they moved with each of her own movements.

That's when I glanced over, oh, right. My client was still there. Drinking from a straw. "You don't mind, do you?" speaking rather matter of factly. Left hand reached over and grasped my own drink. Didn't have a straw. Didn't need it right now. The drinking would come after I had finished.
 
“Not at all,” the Mandalorian waved a hand. If anything, it would help them blend in and seem less suspicious. She had already gotten a few odd looks when reserving a room and not partaking in the establishment’s offerings. At this point they likely thought she was either an investigator of some sort, or one of those religious folk who tried to convert and “rescue” the whores at various brothels. “I like to watch.”

Her follow-up statement made the waitress smile knowingly, as though pegging the type of person she was. Likely she now thought that she had a kink for watching a lover be intimate with someone else, which would explain her disinterest in participating. Excellent. That would certainly lessen her presence once word got around. Not that she planned on staying there for too long, but one never knew if a business deal was going to go awry or not.

“My name is Eshandra, at your service, sir.” The brunette purred, walking closer to the table before kneeling down and sidling herself until she was between his legs. Each hand went to one of his thighs and she started to sensually rub him, biting her lip for a moment before addressing him again. “Are you wanting a full-sized drink, or something to whet your whistle, or the full drink package?” If one was familiar with these joints, they would know she was asking if he wanted a blowjob, sex, or all of the above plus some extra.
 
Oooh. This one liked to watch? Liking this woman more and more! Wonder what else it is she likes.

"Well, hello, there, Eshandra. I'm just here to wet my whistle at the moment," glancing over at Gra'tia, without telling the server that we are here on business. Looking her over up close, Eshandra was the full package. Maybe, when this is all over, I would get the full package. That hinged on how well this meeting went.

Feeling her massive rack pressing between my legs sent a warm sensation rolling through my body. Again wetting my lips and resting my hands in both thighs.

"I am really starting to like this place!" smile widening. A glance over at my client, she remained there sipping on her drink undisturbed. If she was intent on watching, I better put on a good show.

Most clientele are focused on the pair of busty Twi'leks having a pole dance off on the stage.

Hmmm reaching down and cupping her breasts over her bikini top, thumbs pressed in slightly, oh, yeah! They are real!
 
"Yes, they're very real. Though... if you want to make sure, you could give them a more thorough inspection." Eshandra reached up and pushed a button under the table, the booth closing around them to give them privacy. It was a two-way mirror, the three of them being able to still see out and enjoy the strip going on, but no one was going to be able to see what they were doing. After all, coin was what made the world go round in this establishment, so if they hadn't paid the coin, they didn't get to see any of the women pleasuring customers.

Once that was done, she reached back and unclasped her top, shimmying the red fabric down her arms before setting it down on the seat next to him. Her large breasts were now in full-view, her creamy skin and cute, pink nipples on display for his viewing pleasure.

"Do you like them?" she asked coyly, looking up at him through her eyelashes, all the while twisting her body back and forth for a moment to make her breasts sway from side to side.
 
"Oh, yes. Very nice!" smiling widely and wetting my lips. Leaning towards her still holding and giving them a stronger squeeze, then rubbing the tips of both thumbs across the top. Felt like stiff bread dough. Curling fingers under and getting a feel for their weight. Nice and heavy and soft. Just the way I like them. Then gently pinching her aerolas between the thumb and second digit of the index fingers and a gentle pluck. Try to get them hard and ready, just like me!

I'm going to have some fun tonight! Getting my feel of her fun bags I lean back in my seat. Legs splayed ready to receive her. Out of the corner of my eye my client was still sitting there, sipping her drink. That helmet masked her entire face it made it impossible to discern if she was really enjoying the show, or if she was just going along with it to appease me because she needed me.

I wasn't going to argue with it. My focus was on those succulent ta-tas. "You have a gorgeous body, my dead, why don't you show me what you can do with it!" waggling my eyes brows then giving off a coy chuckle.
 
The Mandalorian looked toward the stage and sipped her drink. The Twi'lecs each had their own pole and were dancing around them with skill and finesse that was at a level of mastery most could never hope of achieving. The tall, red one on the right had an hourglass figure, full lips, and was very well endowed, while the blue one on the other side was more petite and dainty. It seemed the theme for the show was "dark seduction" as the taller of the two had a gorgeous black, scrappy outfit that contrasted with the soft, cream colored bikini top and long skirt of the shorter one. The blue twi'lec had a band of flowers as a crown, perhaps trying to represent a naive, innocent woman. The two of them danced on their own poles, occasionally switching and dancing with each other. The red one would usually end up groping the blue in one way or another, much to the pleasure of the audience who were watching.

Meanwhile, a giggle could be heard in response to his compliment. "Thank you, sir. Just sit back and relax, and I'll give you something nice to dream about tonight."

Her hands lighted back onto his thighs, sliding their way toward his groin until they were but mere centimeters away from the bulge in his pants. With graceful movements, his belt was undone, and his zipper followed shortly afterwards. She reached into his pants and pulled out his hard cock, giving it a stroke and looking at it appreciatively. "You've got a nice cock, sir. I can't wait to feel your seed in my stomach."
 
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