| abstract
| - Nar Shaddaa, wickedness and glamour, poverty and extreme wealth, all in one, filthy planet. Here, days span into nights with a fluid flow of debauchery, the thick clouds overhead doing little for time-telling. For days, a once-immaculately white-and-pink rodent, Princess Pipilups, or simply Pip, lacking its flashy name tag, made its way through the streets of the slums, literally picking the brains of the locals for information on one Chalene on 5th Tier, with little success. Until, finally, a stroke of luck, from a particularly sleazy mind of a fat twi'lek. Amidst the residential districts for the general populous, buildings are awfully similar, aged duracrete decorated with all manner of grime and graffiti. A small creature can only bless its size, even if it is a detriment, when /actual/ rats are twice its size, and vicious. There! A structure plucked from a hazy memory. Through a crack, under a beam, up several agonizing flights of stairs, an exhausted Pip slides between wall panels to finally drop into the residence of the woman he's been diligently looking for. A humble home, for Nar Shaddaa, tacky decorations and neon lights and all. The rodent's antenna goes up, searching for inhabitants... The apartment is easily searched. The front door leads into a small and windowless kitchen that holds a cracked, plasteel bench and a table. Broken, neon lights flicker over the sad interior, being nothing more than a simple anteroom to the next, which is relatively large bedroom. Quite obviously a bedroom. The bed takes up most of the place and is heavy with red velvet and large pillows. Against one side of the room is a metal door, no doubt leading to a wardrobe. A fan slowly turns in the ceiling, but apart from its hum no sounds disturb the silence... ... until, that is, there is the sound of a key turning in the lock to the staircase outside. The sound draws a quiver from Pip's tail and antenna. Its claws make faint clicks along the cracked flooring as it makes a scamper to hide under a table. Some conscience, it has, for breaking an entering. Or maybe practical sense... The last six home invasions ended poorly. Pip's fluffy tail bears the discoloration and deformation of a blaster burn. Woes! It'll never be the same again, but the rodent has no time to worry about its beauty. A woman enters the apartment and throws an electric key on the table with the ease of practice. The door is kicked shut behind her by a very high-heeled shoe. A long over-coat is peeled from her weary shoulders and thrown over the table. A glint of sequins sparkle in the kitchen as Chalene slumps onto the bench, kicking off the shoes. She wears a top made only from red, shimmering cloth; her midriff is left bare and a very small skirt encircles her hips. Her legs stretch beneath the table, and -- "Eeeeeeee!" -- the woman's foot brushes Pip and she jumps away from her seat, staring wide-eyed into the shadows at floor-height. Pip's eyes brighten in recognition. Yes! This was the human it had been searching for, even if she was wearing far more clothes now than she had in those flashes of memories. At her frightened cry, Pip leaps out from under the table, looking back behind it. Whatever frightened her frightens it even more. Ooh. Right. The rodent turns around very slowly, puffing down. It had, for ease, tied its long ears into a loose knot over its nose - better than dragging them around behind him. Large eyes go up to the woman, it's antenna quivers, and then, it takes a very deliberate step forward. FORCE:You experience a gentle feeling and receive a vision: A small, white-furred rodent drawing out from under a table, bowing its nose politely in greeting. Telepathic message: Forgive us. Please do not be alarmed. We are Pip. We come looking for human Chalene, on behalf of human friend Karin Morrow. It is a matter of grave importance. You think of Pip ... Chalene's face carefully peers out at Pip from the side of a table's leg. Her make-up has been slightly smeared, leaving splotches of dark mascara around her eyes. She is pretty -- or would have been, ten years ago and given better living conditions. "You're a little small, for a rat," comes her broken voice. Little wrinkles appear at the sides of her eyes as she smiles, warily, focusing on the knot of ears. "I see them street rats has been bad again... be happy they din't cut them off... eeaaassssy now, I'll untie it for you..." She carefully reaches out towards the creature, and freezes. "Huh? You talk? I'm Chalene alright, but I don't no nothin' 'bout any Karin Mornin'." Pip draws forward, nudging the woman's outstretched hands with its nose before pushing itself up on its hind paws and putting clawed paws on the woman's fingers. It looks up at here with large, crimson eyes and wiggles its nose under the cover of its floppy ear-tie. FORCE: You experience a fearful feeling and receive a vision: Various, scattered images. Dantooine's rustic cantina, a lot of Gamorreans, a brawl, the human woman known as Karin in restraints, a large ship, space, narrow confines of a cell, a threatening armored man roughing up the woman, and then, darkness. Telepathic message: She sent us to find you. To help her. You must help her - we cannot do much. The human who took her is strong, has many primitives who follow him. We worry for her! You think of Pip ... "Aww, ain't you a cute little one..." Chalene remains crouched on the floor, tilting her head with a charmed look at Pip. But the woman falls silent at the telepathic message, and she frowns at the furry sentient. "I dunno how you put them pitchers into my head, little fella'... 'tis a nice trick... and I'm sorry for your friend, but I don't know her. Now, what would you say to a small bowl of warm, synthetic milk? I think I've got some left..." Pip shakes its head furiously, a flop to its ears. Then, it tugs urgently at the woman's fingers, little claws tightening around skin for emphasis. The antenna makes a little dance in the air. FORCE: You experience a fearful feeling and receive a vision: The human woman Karin, standing before the armored man, then turning in the direction of the vision, her lips forming words overcome by the hollow voice of the rodent. Telepathic message: Ahh! We had forgotten. You may know her better as... Shea Sonara. Please, you must help her. You think of Pip ... Chalene winces and carefully tugs at the rodent's sharps little claws with her own fingers. "Careful with those, little one... " She pauses, frowning, at the telepathic message. Then she nods a few times, looking curiously at Pip. "Shea Sonara, now there's a name that I know. She's crashed here a few times... not for business, mind, she just needed a secure place to stay. She paid me well for it it, too, still does. But I haven't seen her in very long." She gestures helplessly with a hand. "I'd help Shea if I can. But what do you want me to do? Do you know where she is?" Pip shakes its head slowly, eyes dropping to the floor while the antenna droops like a flower on a hot day, wilting under sudden scrutiny. It flops down on its bum and rubs its paws together slowly. FORCE: You experience a thoughtful feeling and receive a vision: Planetary systems, astronomical bodies, battleships painted with the markings of the Brood of Zergata, then a large ship painted black and red, getting smaller, until the flash of fire of atmospheric entry hides it from view. Telepathic message: No... we do not know. We do not understand this thing your species calls space travel. What little we saw is of little use. We recall only the name of the planet where she was taken... Dantooine. She appeared to know the man - Admiral, she called him. He ... rules the planet? He took her into his ship. Then, far, far away... You think of Pip ... "The Brood? The ruler of Dantooine... Admiral Zamir?" Chalene suddenly looks afraid. She stands up, disentangling her fingers from Pip's clutch in the process, and goes to lock the door. She grabs a parcel of death-sticks and shakes one out, lighting it with trembling fingers. Deep breaths are sucked from the glowing paper, the woman closing her eyes in the process. Finally she blows out a thoughtful puff of smoke. "A gal can get into real trouble, ya know," she looks at Pip, "messin' with them Brood people. You won't find any willin' to help you here. That includes yours truly," the points at her own chest with red, painted nails. The stick is sucked on once more and the lady of the night looks ponderous. A sharp look is given at the furry creature. "But what I /could/ do, see, was take a trip to one of them core worlds. Ya know, a bit of rest'n relaxation. You could travel in my handbag." Handbag? Pip is a fashionable accessory in of itself, when clean! While the rodent shies away from the spreading smoke of the death stick, little snorts of its nose and ears moved to shield breathing, it's clearly excited, puffy, darkened tail wagging. FORCE: You experience an excited feeling and receive a vision: The large, colorful walkways and beautiful sights of Coruscant, teeming with life. Clean life. Life /not/ on Nar Shaddaa. Telepathic message: Yes, yes! Surely you can find someone that can help. We will help, where we can! You think of Pip ... "That's what we'll do, then." Chalene nods firmly to herself, sucking the last life out of the death stick and squeezes it into an ashtray. "I hope noone saw you come here? I don't want no trouble with the Brood." She flicks a look at Pip and strides into the next room, finding a bag beneath the bed and rummaging around in a closet. A few items are tossed into the bag. As the woman gathers her things, Pip does what it does best - meticulously clean itself. No way was the little rodent going to Coruscant looking as it is now. Tails must be fluffed, ears cleaned and polished, claws repainted. Wait... maybe not the last part. Its antenna bobs pleasantly in the air. "Right, I'm all set and ready." Chalene appears at the doorway, nodding at Pip. Somewhere during her preparations she changed her dancer's outfit for a more neutral garb. She wears the jacket again and slings the bag over her shoulder, holding a pocket open. "Jump inside, furry rat? It's rainin' outside, so I'll close the flap." FORCE: You experience an amused feeling and receive a vision: The white rodent slipping through all manner of places small and dirty, disturbed only by large rats and other similar creatures. Telepathic message: We are good at going unseen, especially here, on Nar Shaddaa... we think. We did not feel anyone following us. You think of Pip ... Chalene cannot help but smile at this, wrinkles once more appearing around her eyes. "Alright, then, suit yourself," she nods. Holding the door open for Pip she leaves the apartment, closing and locking the door behind her.
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