Breadcrumbs

Posted on Mon Oct 19, 2015 @ 3:12am by Civilian 'Key Holder' Yolanthe Ibalin
Edited on on Mon Oct 19, 2015 @ 3:12am

1,096 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Pangaea (Wrap up)
Location: The Bowels of DS5
Timeline: MD06 0030

::ON::

For once, the fights hadn't started by the time Yolanthe got there. By luck, there was fight that night, and it didn't take much to find it, not for a regular like her.

She was glad to be there early as the first arrivals jostled for places around the edge of the arena. This one was a proper cage made up from bars welded together surrounding a sprung floor.

Chuss, the bolian master of ceremonies gave her a nod. "Are you betting tonight?"

She smiled, her body flushing blue. "I think all the regulars have rumbled me now. I doubt they'd accept my bets. I'm just here to watch. Catch up with some folks."

"Well, no starting any fights." He warned her with a jovial smile. "Unless you're in here." He pattered the bars of the cage.

"I promise to be good," she said.

Chuss laughed. "That's a pity." He spotted some other familiar faces and wheeled away, calling a greeting.

Yolanthe looked around, scanning the spectators for the person she came for. And after a moment she spotted him. Tyler Short was talking to his fighters for tonight, a pair of large muscular aliens, one with skin the colour of brick, and a thick mane around his shoulders. His companion was grey scaled, with black diamond patterns running up his fronts and over his shoulder and back down again, dissapearing under his waistband. Compared to the fighters, Short looked positively weedy, thin face, thin hands, thin everything.

Like all weasels, he could sense when he was being watched, and he turned from talking to his fighters to scan the crowd. He met her gaze, looked away hurriedly, but it was too late.

"Evening Tyler."

"Yolanthe. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He didn't look like it would be a pleasure.

"I want information. I want to see if someone was taken through Verex III recently."

At the mention of the notorious Orion Slave Market, Tyler winced slightly. "That's not exactly subtle. Who are you looking for."

Yolanthe pressed her lips together, not really believing what she was about to say. "An Orion girl."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Well that narrows it down. You have to give me more than that."

Yolanthe handed him a padd. "This one," the padd showed Klia, in happier times, bikini clad at a pool side somewhere tropical with a bright orange cocktail in one hand. The environment was fake, one Klia had programmed just for her, but the smile, the happiness was real enough.

Short looked at the photo, and then back to Yolanthe. "Isn't that?"

"Yes," she said quickly, cutting him off. SHe fished a bar of platinum out of her shirt and held it out to him. "I need to know."

Tyler's eyes had glazed over slightly when she had put a hand into her cleavage. "Sure, When."

"now." She put two fingers under his chin and tipped his face up, digging her nails in more than necessary. "My eyes are up here."

"You're taller than me, I'm just looking straight ahead." He cleared his throat, and then did look up. "Now? You don't want much do you?"

"Can you do it or not."

"Give me a moment." He wandered off, looking for a quiet place to make a call. His two fighters looked at her. She was taller than both of them, and they seemed surprised that a woman could be that tall. She stared back, and they looked away. She returned to scanning the hall, seeing various competitors warming up ready for the bouts kicking off.

Tyler left her hanging around for a good ten minutes, then he came back. "I don't know if it was actually her, but a friend of a friend says one looking like her was sold on about two months ago. To a Tiburonian trader, called Torm."

So there was someone out there who looked close enough, at least. The violet of her skin faded to a ditchwater grey. "Thank you."

"Well don't thank me too soon. This Torm has a reputation. He likes to break his toys." he told her.

"I don't suppose you know where I can find him?"

Short shrugged. "I didn't ask. There's only so many things you can do before people get suspicious, and I need to keep a low profile. Don't want our mutual friend getting wind of anything."

"No, of course not." The last thing either of them wanted was to beard that particular lion. Yolanthe's body and hair turned a pale green, but more for Klia than herself.

"Well, that's all I got. If its her, then I'm sorry." Short didn't look at her, or any part of her. "Look, your best bet is to go out there and bribe someone for the details. But it wouldn't be the safest thing to do. Take some friends who are useful in a fight, a couple of really nasty bastards for preference. If you know any."

That would be an issue. Without Tharek, she was low on options. "Thank you."

"yeah well, tell me which of these bastards is going to win tonight, and I'll call us square. For now."

Yolanthe looked around, taking in all the different fighters who were giving each others the hairy eyeball. It took a while to see it, the further from the action it was, the harder it was to tell, but she could be reasonably sure. She pointed to a Boslic who was strapping spiked gloves onto his fist. It wasn't a dead cert, but the instinct felt good. "Him."

Short didn't hide his disappointment that it wasn't one of his. "Cheers. Take care, sweetheart. They're slippery cunts on Verex III. Watch your back."

"Why, Tyler. I didn't know you cared."

He sniffed, a non-committal sound. "Yeah well, your latinum stiffens my spine every time I get in phaser range of a certain Andorian, which is far more often than I like. I'm just protecting my income. So don't get dead." His face darkened. "Or worse."

"I'm a big girl. I'll be fine." She patted Tyler on the shoulder, and slipped away whilst Chuss was introducing the first pairing. The green of her body grew progressively darker as she headed back to the Box of Delights and she became more and more certain that she wasn't going to be anything of the sort. She had no favours to call in that might help, no friends with skills or resources that might be useful. She needed a miracle.

::OFF::

Yolanthe Ibalin
Owner, The Box of Delights
DS5

 

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