A dull rhythmic thrumming played through the ship. Some stringed instrument pulsing a single chord, it made his entire being pulse in unison. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall as he so often did. His hands interlaced in between his legs, a cigarette in the digits of his left hand and it wafted it’s wisps up in front of his face and eyes, a vile incense he bathed himself in. He had felt passion again, unrelenting, chaotic passion on the bench of his cargo hold, with a woman who could draw any emotion or sense she wanted from him. He hated it, but he couldn’t resist it, craved it as bad as the spice he filled his body with.
He had taken as many hallucinogenic doses as he could, balanced out with a cocktail of medication. It was kicking in, his body grew… Well it felt like it grew, it expanded and his organs tingled. His eyes were warm and his teeth ached. He found himself grinding them, head beginning to bob with the intoxicating strum of sound that played through his ship. He dropped it to the ground and the music began to get louder. A beat added, slow now, like a giant beasts heart. Oh Stars he had felt it again, that hunger and will to live, that warm body ripped him from his pit and shook him violently. It scared him.
There was a scream, a loud feminine screech that was oddly lyrical, it hurt his ears and right then everything kicked in. It was like getting punched in the stomach and getting slapped across the face all while in the throws of climax. The entire ship reverberated in loud industrial noises. The bass slammed and other sounds were added into the most furious music he knew. A dirty, grimy sound that was threaded with the screams and unintelligible words of some lyricist, music only played in the filthiest of dance clubs on Nar Shaddaa He was moving now, the colors the track lights gave colored his mind and his hands ripped the mattress from the bed, body flailing with the music as the mattress was against the wall. He spun his body to his desk and his long black arms blurred and threw the contents off the durasteel surface.
Crashes and bangs could not even drown the music, his head bobbed mercilessly and his body shook as he threw a full ash tray to the wall. It made a popping sound and a dent in the wall, ash and cigarette buts falling about. He danced through the grey snow. He was dirty, disgusting, and free. The clothes were thrown from his armoire, shoes, shirts, uniforms making there drifting flapping cloth turn into some kind of falling birds. His rampage went out of the room ,all the while head down and his body shaking to the sound. His Akk Dog yapped wildly, not the least bit scared, she hopped on her back feet with him, nipping at his fingers when they passed by her maw, flicks of red giving the walls life.
He threw everything to the deck, every table was cleaned, every wall was dented. He smiled and laughed and spun and tore and destroyed. Puddles was chewing the couch and ripping out it’s innards and swallowing them and clawing at the wood floor. But he didn’t care. His booted foot was smashing into a metal crate in the hold as the song met it’s crescendo. The woman screeching like some victim of horrific torture. His breath was ragged and hard, sweating like a man from the dessert and jumping into the walls. He was alive now, he could do anything he wanted, nothing stopped him. He was a cyclone of energy, an indomitable force of destruction and a creature of life. He was a god.
But the music was done, silence in the ship. He was sitting in the corner of his room on a part of the mattress that was over the top of him. A fort of cushion and torn sheet. He exhaled smoke into it, creating a stinging fog for him to dwell in.
He was happy for now.