The kid had stepped off the boat with Jet, a seasoned spacer who knew one heckuva lot more than Zane did about the Smuggler’s Moon. So, as with just about anything that didn’t have to do with Lotho Minor or any of its surrounding celestial bodies, the youth gave deference to the experienced. Jet had pretty much laid down ‘the law’ (if there was any to be told of) regarding the Red Light District.

Jet adjusted the strap across his chest, the faint clink of tools, weapons, or otherwise useful gear shifting at his side as he kept a steady pace beside Zane.

[colour=ff0000]“Alright.. So we’re making our way through Nar’s Red Light, its own ‘warm welcome.’ You’ll get dealers pushin’ spice, dancers pushin’ dreams, and half the other folks pushing their luck.”[/colour] He glanced ahead, scanning the ever shifting sea of bodies as the glow of signs bled through the smog. [colour=ff0000]“Don’t make eye contact unless you’re buying, don’t flash creds you ain’t ready to lose, and don’t follow anyone toting anything that seems too good to be true”[/colour] He paused, [colour=ff0000]“Because it is.”[/colour]

Jet’s tongue ran the inside of his cheek, sparing a glance sideways without breaking his stride, [colour=ff0000]“If anyone separates us, shout out, [i]loud.[/i]”[/colour]

And like any good teenager worth his salt, Zane wasn’t listening to a bit of it.

He was far too enthralled with the idea of setting foot on a new planet. He never stepped off the ship onto Abilene’s soil; never saw the open skies that weren’t threatening to kill him at every turn, never got to breathe the good, clean air of a place that wasn’t an acrid cesspool. With this being only his second time to finally explore a planet, his eyes were wide with wonder and his ears were closed to anything that wasn’t the din of the Smuggler’s Moon.

It just so happened that they were approaching the very area that Jet was trying to warn him about. Zane stared straight ahead, noting that the streets (and [i]wow[/i], there were actual [i]streets[/i]!) were becoming a bit more narrow, and there were a few people standing near the corners of the nearby buildings that – well, they weren’t exactly dressed too warmly. Save for a light jacket, the women were wearing hardly anything. Neither were the males, with the exception of a few of them. One such fellow - a red-skinned Devaronian, by the looks of him - came sauntering forward from one of the corners, dressed in what passed for a classy suit, a wild-looking fur coat, and a wide-brimmed hat that had holes cut out of the front so his horns could stick through. He had a few shiny necklaces made of what appeared to be aurodium and platinum, although they were actually some slightly-convincing knock-offs, and toting an aurodium-tipped cane with a knobbed head that looked like some sort of sea creature.

Giving the cane a quick flourish as he stepped in the way of Zane, the Devaronian pointed the cane at him just as Zane stepped into the tip. The kid winced, his brow furrowing, just about to object to the rough treatment as the Devaronian spoke in his gravelly, low tone.

“Hey…you sure you’re old enough to even be here, kid?” He said with a half-grin, reaching down to lewdly grab his crotch to emphasize his next statement, “Barely look like your gobbies have shifted…”

Zane’s head cocked as he rubbed the spot the being had poked him in, [color=cyan]”Old enough for [i]what[/i], sleemo? It’s a public street, ain’t it?”[/color]

The horned creature’s grin faded, apparently not taking too kindly to Zane’s objection, “You’ve got a smart mouth, ‘Junior’ – you tellin’ me you don’t know where you’re walkin’? This is Pleasure Point, princess! But you gotta be a grown-up if you wanna stay on [i]this[/i] playground…”

Zane’s confused gaze went from the Devaronian over to Jet, hoping he could fill him in on what the “sleemo” was referring to. The horn-head looked over to Jet also, sizing him up with a wary eye.

Jet had seen it all before, more times than he cared to count. The flash of faux-aurodium, the puffed-up ego, the fake fur coat that reeked more of desperation than decadence. He could smell the hustle from meters away, kriff, he basically knew the script well enough to write it himself. But he wasn’t here for theatrics, or tricks of any other kind, and he sure as hell wasn’t here to lose the kid five steps into Nar.

He stepped up behind Zane, steady and unhurried. When the Devaronai glanced his way, just a flick of the eye, Jet didn’t give him the luxury to look away. He didn’t posture, or flex, but simply stood there, broad and scarred, gaze leveled with the kind of deadpan calm that spoke louder.

His voice followed, slow and even. [colour=ff0000]“He’s old enough to decide where he walks.”[/colour] A pause, barely a breath. [colour=ff0000]“But you shove that stick at him again and I’ll break it off at the wrist.”[/colour]

There was no heat in it, no barking threat, just a straightforward honest statement of intent. He let it hang in the air long enough to see the flicker of uncertainty crawl across the horny bastard's face. That wary sizing-up from earlier, yeah, he’d seen that look a thousand times over. The predator unsure if the prey was bigger than itself, and whether the risk was worth taking.

He didn’t need the guy to run, didn’t even need an apology, just to turn tail and leave. And when he did, swaggering as he made his way back to his back alley post, he spared Zane a sidelong glance, just for a moment. He let a few steps pass in silence before speaking.

[colour=ff0000]“Eyes up next time, kid. Nar’ don’t care if you’re green nor grinnin’, it’ll chew through either just the same.”[/colour] He looked back, not unkind but sharp. [colour=ff0000]“You keep walkin’ like that, someone’ll make you pay for it.”[/colour] A smile crept across Jet’s face, it would have looked ugly had he not started laughing belly first. [colour=ff0000]“Least you didn’t [i]punch[/i] him. [i]That[/i] would’ve been my mess to clean up!”[/colour] 

The kid flashed a nervous smile back at Jet as they continued walking through the district. Trying not to let his eyes wander too much, Zane finally understood why this district was meant for “grown-ups” - every window seemed to have either flesh being peddled or some other sort of vice. A rather scantily-clad Rodian gave him a wink of her rather large eyes, cat-calling after him, [color=yellow]“Ever had a blowjob from a Rodian before, big boy? It’s wild!”[/color]

Zane’s eyes sprung wide open at her not-so-subtle statement. [color=cyan]”Uh…nope, sure haven’t.”[/color] He stutter-stepped to catch himself back up with the master technician, their gaits practically the same, and yet, Jet’s was far more confident and assertive. The kid was able to see it in his walk, and the look on his face - Jet seemed to be on a mission. All Zane could do was grab the strap of his E-11 and hope that he’d have no occasion to use it.