Prophet of Bogan
Kessel, ever the gem of the spice trade that dominated the sector and kept the gangs and smugglers in much of the Outer Rim in business. Without the Hutt Space Consortium to oversee the world it had once again fallen into the power struggles of prominent and wealthy criminals overlords. Gangs, pirates, shady corporations, the scum of the galaxy all vying for the spice trade that the Hutts had restored before their Consortium fell into anarchy and disarray. But of course, spice couldn't mine itself.
Iars Niem, a Weequay gangster that had a reputation as filthy as the spice trade itself. had gone about taking control of the spice in an unusual yet effective manner. Rather than fighting turf wars over mines or trade routes, Niem had become the predominant slave trader in the Kessel sector. Almost every worker in the spice mines was on rent from the Weequay, regardless of which criminals and vagabonds may have controlled the mines at that moment.
No one mined spice on Kessel without his approval and support. And of course, most certainly not without him getting a cut of the profits. Profits that were invested in more gaining more slaves and paying off anyone that threatened his monopoly on the market. Iars Niem had grown confident and rich off his schemes and the hard labor of his property, but of course it was never enough credits for the gangster.
So he decided to have a grand auction where his slaves could be presented to gangs and criminals all across the Outer Rim, hosted in a station right outside of the spice world's orbit. In doing such a grand display though, he had gained the attention of many that were interested in the auction. But not in the way that he would have preferred.
The auction station seemed to be hosting a party more than a slave auction, with servants running drinks and food between the various booths and balconies where the interested buyers were sitting and chatting amongst themselves. Of course drinks and spice were flowing to each table as well, inebriation did tend to lighten the pockets after all. Iars Niem himself sat at a high balcony overlooking the main auction floor, brushing elbows with Hutts and other criminal lords that had bought their way into the VIP booths. It was there that he was vulnerable, it was there that he thought himself safe. It was there that he was wrong.
:"The Weequay in the cheap golden outfit, that is your target. The moment his pulse stops, you get your credits.": The voice of a mysterious and thus far hidden employer reminded the bounty hunter through her commlink, the guards not giving her much of a second glance as they instead stared at the scantily clad servants passing by at that moment. :"Oh, and did I mention a bonus if you give him a death he deserves?:" Marigold
Iars Niem, a Weequay gangster that had a reputation as filthy as the spice trade itself. had gone about taking control of the spice in an unusual yet effective manner. Rather than fighting turf wars over mines or trade routes, Niem had become the predominant slave trader in the Kessel sector. Almost every worker in the spice mines was on rent from the Weequay, regardless of which criminals and vagabonds may have controlled the mines at that moment.
No one mined spice on Kessel without his approval and support. And of course, most certainly not without him getting a cut of the profits. Profits that were invested in more gaining more slaves and paying off anyone that threatened his monopoly on the market. Iars Niem had grown confident and rich off his schemes and the hard labor of his property, but of course it was never enough credits for the gangster.
So he decided to have a grand auction where his slaves could be presented to gangs and criminals all across the Outer Rim, hosted in a station right outside of the spice world's orbit. In doing such a grand display though, he had gained the attention of many that were interested in the auction. But not in the way that he would have preferred.
The auction station seemed to be hosting a party more than a slave auction, with servants running drinks and food between the various booths and balconies where the interested buyers were sitting and chatting amongst themselves. Of course drinks and spice were flowing to each table as well, inebriation did tend to lighten the pockets after all. Iars Niem himself sat at a high balcony overlooking the main auction floor, brushing elbows with Hutts and other criminal lords that had bought their way into the VIP booths. It was there that he was vulnerable, it was there that he thought himself safe. It was there that he was wrong.
:"The Weequay in the cheap golden outfit, that is your target. The moment his pulse stops, you get your credits.": The voice of a mysterious and thus far hidden employer reminded the bounty hunter through her commlink, the guards not giving her much of a second glance as they instead stared at the scantily clad servants passing by at that moment. :"Oh, and did I mention a bonus if you give him a death he deserves?:" Marigold