[@Wildling][@countlessinsect][@Honesty Crow]


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				[u][b]Taris [/b][/u]



-I know this girl- the Apprentice thought, her green eyes (one newly restored by the master who'd been her enemy once), focusing on a ten year old who weaved between several Gammorians who were pounding back stimulant laced ale for a game the Gamorrians called "Nosleep" (The goal being to take so many uppers and downers at once that it brought you to the brink of a lethal reaction then stay conscious for as long as possible to avoid going into shock). She'd sported bruises that were concealed under the soft kimono like tunic she wore to seem as pleasant and "exotic" (odd thing since kimonos were so simplistic and primitive almost every species had a variant of them) as possible and to accentuate herself to customers who were far more depraved in their proclivities. The girl was near human, though Aladar couldn't tell the species, but she knew the look of an addict. That girl, who was likely beaten not by her pimps but by older whores who were jealous of someone who once they entered puberty was likely going cost one of them a job (and perhaps more than that) by here mere existence. -I know this girl- she thought -Because I was this girl- After her master died, when she was "tall for her age" and pretty enough that she was put to work earlier than most who were new to the profession. Then the inquisitors came and she wasn't sure which addiction was worse, spice, death sticks or the dark side. Rhaenessya Aladar had attempted to find Phasma something to wear (as her master put it, you and that Duros faced irradiated behemoth are roughly the same height, though you are nowhere near as ordinary or flat..lend her some clothes!) Aladar had to stifle a laugh, it was so childish of her to be giddy at it but that might have been the first time in twenty years that the young woman had been called beautiful (albeit in a backhanded way) by anyone that hadn't made her skin crawl. Master could be scornful, but that made her praise all the more meaningful and the more time they spent together the more she realized she'd begun to love the older woman as a mentor and as a parent. What shocked her was that the affections seemed to be reciprocated, they'd bonded hard, they'd bonded fast and it only served to strengthen Aladar's resolve.


She would not fail again, Not her children, not her new order, especially not herself and not the woman who took her in. She supposed that made her similar to Phasma who likewise wouldn't fail her mentor (and who insisted on wearing the Chrome armor she'd been given, ah well at least she looked like a Mandalorian Death commando and not an imperial officer). Unlike Phasma, Aladar wore a black and silver tunic, with a sash that marked her as a freedwoman, a former slave who'd earned her freedom and from the color of the star burst pattern it implied she was a former sex slave. -I'll admit to being a whore before I admit to serving the Sith- she thought, ironic the things people felt ashamed of. Beyond that, the colors made her look like she belonged, as if she wouldn't stand out in a crowd. The quality of her tunic implied she'd gained a good deal of wealth since her slavery expired which made the armored Phasma look like her bodyguard drawing them the right kind of attention. Rhaenessya Aladar kept her eye on the ten year old girl as she moved to another table, placing a packet of spice on the table, a drug transaction, one of millions that transpired across the galaxy every nanosecond or so it would seem. But she recognized when a whore in training was palming a data chip to agents of a competitor. Other things gave it away, the Rodian who looked and acted like he was loaded on stimulants but it was [i]too convincing[/i], the Sephi that ran in and out of the building (She made a mental note to watch out for those, Sephi were a long lived species and a thug with a few centuries of combat experience was dangerous even if they were mere thugs). Her green eyes shifted back to Phasma who constantly looked like she was twitching below her mask, Parnassos was a hard, hellish world but it lacked the infrastructure for the subtleties of the kind of depravity Phasma was witnessing here. "Dodging rape gangs and rad burned cannibals seems a little more honest huh?" She asked the woman, who was no doubt watching many of these displays of degeneracy either for the first time, or the first time without Raveem to explain to her exactly what was happening.

"Three thousand years ago Taris was as populated and mechanical as Coruscant, a Sith lord I forget which had it bombed into a ruined wasteland. Trillions died, but nature reclaimed the world. Over the last three thousand years, it's become what you see here" Perhaps it was a glimpse into the future of her own planet. Aladar was about to continue when The Highsinger killer's voice echoed through her wrist mounted comm device.

"Read you" she whispered then added "Phasma and I are in a brothel ten blocks from you, he's trying to take over the pleasure houses in this level."

Or torture the pimps to get to their suppliers of slavers to work out a more "exclusive" deal. She wasn't quite sure yet, and she'd wanted to begin to try a mind probe of the Rodian, but a Zeltron walked in and began making out with the Sephi in what was another convincing act. Aladar had felt the mental intrusion...Great she thought, it was bad enough they were low level psychics but this one was force sensitive if completely untrained. She'd thought about resisting, but she wasn't well trained enough in these things to do it in a way that didn't look like a total psychic block, something even an untrained force wielder would recognize as odd. Instead, she allowed the Zeltron in, just enough to see images of her first year in a brothel like this, sufficient to convince her to leave. As serving girl brought them both another round of drinks and Aladar shotgunned them both and made an obscene comment before she slid back into her chair, her eyes steeled.

This wasn't easy for her, playing the role of a trafficker, when she'd been trafficked or consuming so much alcohol (Even though her force augmented metabolism neutralized the effects easy enough), to come face to face with her old addictions when she'd just gone cold turkey on the new one. She'd said as much to her master who'd simply told her that to fall was no defeat, only in failing to rise again would she fail. That had comforted her but a set a fire in her blood and made her resolved to come here no matter what. "We have two choices now" she whispered to Phasma "We can brute force this like amateurs" she murmured that almost contented with that idea, these people deserved to be slaughtered for what they did to boys and girls and adults, but she also realized annihilating a brothel would result in the people who worked there ending up homeless on a world where Rhakghul plagues were still a problem. It was what Sith would do and what the old Empire would do, but subtlety involved time they simply didn't have given what was coming.


The answer, she realized, might come in the form of a middle ground. "Phasma" Aladar muttered "get ready, I'm going to start a gang war"

The Chiss, would have a hard time doing business here, she realized, if half the planet was gigantic gunbattle. And they needed his, services for what was to come.