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Lower City Dancers	By : DarkWolves Category: +G through L > Knights of the Old Republic Views: 10610 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Knights of the Old Republic, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1- Lower City Dancers
- 1
Chapter 1- Lower City Dancers

Mission truly loved the Lower City of Taris. It was constantly awash with activity and life. Traffic from Upper City coming down through the lower sky lanes under the glistening framework of the skyscraper that punctured through the veil of smog and grime which encrusted the rust covered metal coating of the Lower City supports.
Mission strode through the Lower City pathways with her loyal companion Zalbaar. Mission and Zalbaar stepped past the flashing neon sign encircling the entrance to the Lower City Cantina. As they passed the Rodian Bouncer guarding the door Mission saw out of the corner of her eye as the frail Rodian flinched at Zalbaar’s enormous form. Zalbaar growled deeply in his primal throat.
The two stepped into the cantina, music booming over the speakers strapped to the walls of the Cantina. Mission looked across at Zalbaar, being with him for so long had given her a sixth sense to tell exactly what he was thinking, a talent usually restricted to others of his kind. “Go on big guy” She patted his muscled, furry arm. “Go chow down” Zalbaar growled loudly in his Wookie tongue. He stomped off, the crowds parting sheepishly at his lumbering approach.
Mission followed him in, walking calmly to the bar which dominated the centre of the room. She approached the bar, laying a credit chip down on the bar. “I’ll have a regular, Michael” The bartender came across to her, scooping the credit chip off the bar.
“Coming up” He said with a smile, shuffling off to get her drink.
He eventually returned with her beverage. When she first came here after meeting Zalbaar people were so frightened that she’d have him rip their heads, tentacles, feelers etc off she’d gotten practically instant service. But now everyone was used to him, at least as used as used as you could be to seeing a walking, fuzzy tank just across the room, at any moment ready to give you unnatural bends in the most delicate of places.
Mission sipped at the glowing blue liquid in the glass before her, letting the sweet flavour wash over her taste buds, slowly slipping down her throat, leaving a cool burning trail in its wake. As the liquid hit her stomach, it felt as though she’d swallowed a thermal detonator, a fiery burn electrifying her muscles. Yeap, this was Taqua Berries alright, strong stuff.
Mission rose to her feet, passing seamlessly through the crowded club. As she strode through the room she noticed Zalbaar sitting at one of the tables, a young waitress with thin, frail arms hefting a tray covered in a large chunk of meat and assorted dipping sauces to his table. Mission stepped into the dance studio of the cantina, taking a seat on one of the padded chairs, watching the holographic dancers and Bith musicians on stage. Twi’lek’s were naturally a universally attractive species- obviously why they were prominently used as Pleasure Slaves, Consorts and Dancers. This created a galaxy wide stereotype, especially towards female Twi’leks.
The holographic dancers suddenly crackled and fizzled with static, the Bith musicians stopping their repetitive melody. This seemed to get the attention of every occupant of the room, Mission included. The holograms suddenly blinked out of existence. The other patrons began to mutter between eachother, each offering their own ideas on the sudden interruption. Mission however placed the culprit down to cheap wiring, if the Cantina couldn’t even afford live dancers there was little hope of them hiring a half decent electrician to fit their system.
But suddenly the reason for the interruption became clear. “Ladies and Gentlemen” A voice boomed through the club. “The Taris Cantina is proud to present, The Mysterious Seductress. Misty!” Someone emerged from the side of the stage, their features covered by a thin veil of darkness, but Mission could discern it was a Twi’lek. The mystery person emerged into the beams of the overhanging studio lights, the strings of the Bith musicians announcing her arrival.
It was a Twe’lik, her dark blue skin a true contrast to the red dancer’s outfit she wore. A golden bra with a matching chain locked around her waist, silk red material flowing down to cover her nether regions. ‘Misty’ sashayed on stage, moving with such gracefulness that she seemed to flow between the stances of her routine. Mission could swear she saw the dancer glance towards her on more than one occasion, giving her a subtle wink as she continued through the steps. As she finished her performance she stepped down into the crowd of people. Some members of the crowd rising from their seats to claw at Misty, hoping to grab at anything they could reach. Misty simply batted them back into their chairs.
Misty passed dozens of patrons, either thinking they were too grabby, or she wouldn’t make enough cash out of them, or she simply didn’t consider them good looking enough to throw herself at them.
The girl finally set her sights the only other Blue Skinned Twi’lek in the room. Misty stepped towards Mission, taking Missions hand from her lap in her own, rubbing the pad of her thumb across the top of Mission’s hand. “Never thought I’d see another female Twi’lek here” She rounded her way around Missions seat, leaning against her shoulder blade to whisper sweetly in her ear. “I find it quite a refreshing sight”
And as quickly and as silently as she had come, she slinked back through the crowd towards the stage. The overhead lights snapping off to secure her exit.

*****************************
Mission left the Cantina with Big Z, her mind still infected with memories of the mysterious dancer. Had she chosen Mission for a reason, or had she thought Mission was just a rich kid susceptible to a smooth talking Twi’lek. Mission shook her head clear.
As she stepped through the streets of Lower City she heard a screech reverberate against the metallic walls of the building supports. Mission turned towards the source of the noise, noticing a group of Black Vulkars huddled in a semi-circle. This was never going to be good.
“Come on, just for us” A member of the Black Vulkar gang wrapped his taloned hand around the Twi’lek girls exposed arm, squeezing the soft flesh in his iron grip.
“No! I’m not some street slut” She screeched, batting the Vulkar’s clawed hand away from her with one fell swoop of her hand. The Vulkar growled deeply in his avian throat.
“Hey!” Mission called out. The Lead Vulkar turned to acknowledge her, the others simply not caring enough to confirm her existence and simply passing it off. “Leave her alone you Nerf herder!”
The Vulkar cackled in his alien throat. When he finally stopped laughing he returned his gaze to Mission, his eyes burning with confidence. “Oh so you wanna join us girly? We could sure use another one”
Two of his Rodian goons stepped forward, ready to seize Mission in their alien clutches. She simply smiled at the approaching threat. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you” The Rodian’s paid her no head. Mission smirked, excited that they’d decided to take the stupid option. “Ok, Zalbaar?”
Zalbaar stepped out into the open, his gigantic form hanging over Mission, shadowing the Vulkars. Just the sight of a nine foot Wookie would scare the crap out of any hardened Mandilorian; combine that with the feral roar Zalbaar emitted it had the Vulkars scrambling for their lives.
Mission ran towards the girls side, to ensure she was ok. She was wearing a high cut t-shirt covered in a rugged leather jacket, her long legs barely covered by a short skirt. The girl looked into Mission’s face, Mission reeled back slightly when she realized who she had just saved. It was the dancer from the Cantina. “Misty?”
The Twe’lik seemed surprised. “How’d you know me-” The realization finally clicked in her, remembering Mission’s face as the Twe’lik in the Cantina.
She smiled, letting Mission take her hand and ease her up onto her feet. “My names Aalya, Misty’s just my stage name” Mission looked her from Lekku to toe.
“You really shouldn’t dress like that” Aalya certainly didn’t expect a burn on her dress sense after she had had her live saved. “You never want to wear anything which exposes too much skin” Mission indicated her own t-shirt and pants. “Otherwise the gangs get the wrong idea about you”
Zalbaar roared loudly, obviously annoyed that Mission had forgotten the fact that he only had a thick layer of fur to conceal himself. “Well you can just rip their arms off” Zalbaar stifled a muffled growl. Mission returned her attention to Aalya. “You want me to take you back home?” Aalya accepted Mission’s outstretched hand.
Aalya lead Mission towards the elevator which led into Upper City. Mission gripped Aalya’s arm, stopping their advance. “Ur, this elevator leads to upper city?”
Aalya gave her a curt look. “I know” Aalya reached into her jacket pocket, removing a small card. “Clipped this off a Sith Trooper. Sith Troopers are still men you know” Her smile turned mischievous. “And men never could resist the well toned curves of a female Twe’lik”

*******************************************
As they stepped out of the elevator at the other end, Aalya simply flashed the pass, not even breaking stride to acknowledge him. Mission was sure he was glaring at them from behind his visor. Mission gave him a mocking wink, just for fun.
Aalya lead Mission through the bustling Upper City streets, Mission had very rarely had the ‘honour’ of mingling with the ‘cultural elite’ that wandered through Upper City. Finally they found what Aalya had been leading the two of them too. She inserted a key card into the steel bulkhead doors leading into one of the dozen of apartments on this floor.
Mission gaped at the apartment. The size, the view from the window at the far end of the apartment. Mission stepped into the centre of the apartment, letting herself be washed up in the shear size of the room. Aalya walked past Mission, throwing herself onto her bed and lying against the soft pillows at the far end of the bed. “I’m a traveller. I go from planet to planet, earning my fare as I go”
Mission looked over at her “How’d you end up dancing in the cantina?”
Aalya raised herself up. “Dancing was really one of the only things I was ever good at” Aalya gave her a smirk. “I could teach you if you like?”
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Lower City Dancers