Public Kings // ATTN: Underworld

[Zavvo the Hutt]

The Nightfox Casino
Entertainment District
Coruscant
----------------------
​

"Majordomo?"

The Rodian jumped half out of his scales at the sound of Hampton's voice from behind. Vlazlo sucked in a deep breath and clutched his wildly beating heart. How did such a heavy frame approach so quietly?

"Ah, ah... Mr. Hampton. I didn't... hear you arrive." the Rodian straightened his back and relaxed the hand already across his chest into a hasty Rodian salute.

"Quite the celebration you've got here. I thought the casket would be bigger." the large Human looked up at the towering silver cube gleaming before him, the temporary resting place of Mondulla the Hutt, freshly deceased. The room swirled with vultures, but Royce... Royce was the lion.

"It's not to your liking?"

"I'm more worried it's not to his. You couldn't get gold?" Royce smirked. Of course they couldn't get gold. Mondulla verged on destitution. Half the attendees of his funeral already possessed former assets of the Hutt Lord, and what they didn't would shortly belong to Royce.

"The... Uh.. the council said they would make better accommodations as soon as Lord Mondulla is returned to the homeworld an—"

"HA! Don't kid yourself Vlazlo. You'll be lucky if they let the old sack rest on Nar Shaddaa. Even that might be too close to Hutta for this disgrace."

The scrawny Majordomo looked up at Royce with a fury in his bulbous eyes. "Did you come here just to insult my master's legacy, or did you need something?"

"I have everything I need, Majordomo. Everything. I came to tell you its time to crawl back to the Cartel." Royce placed a meaty palm on Vlazlo's shoulder, "enjoy your night while it lasts."

Royce lumbered off and left the Rodian stunned at his former master's side. Royce needed to find the bar and forget about the politics of the whole event for a while.

The Nightfox Casino, Mondulla's pride and joy, had an excellently long bar for such a shithole. One that now belonged entirely to Royce Hampton. He caught the eye of one of the bartenders, a tall and lithe pink Twi'lek, one of Mondulla's favourite pieces of eye candy. Rumor had it she was one of his slaves, though such things were kept hush hush in the polite company of the Core Worlds. If that was true she was open for a career change into something more profitable, something Royce wanted to help with.

"Hey mistah Hampton, whad'll it be?"

"The strongest thing the Hutt stocked."

"It's a wine. You like wine, sir?" the girl turned to the shelves and reached up without effort to lower the wine bottle from the top.

"Sure, if that's what he's got. Say, Ninya, why don't you bring what's left here at the end of the night to my place. I wouldn't want to waste all this booze when I knock this place down."

Ninya smiled under tired eyes as she poured the deep red wine into the biggest glass she had, to fit Royce's appetite. "Knock it down? Why?"

Royce took a gulp of wine as soon as she pushed it towards him, then eyed the room before he answered. Ninya leaned her elbows against the bar patiently awaiting a response. The main casino floor had been done up nicely, probably with the last of the Hutt's bank account. Yet it wasn't enough to hide the truth from those who'd been in before. The place hemorrhaged credits, and funds to reopen the rooftop casino after a Mawite starfighter crashed through it had yet to materialize.

"Luxury tenements, my dear. Ones without Gammorrean bloodstains on the carpet."

"Pfft, Vlaz hired twelve new guards but couldn't rent a rug cleaner droid. Not sure what he's posturing for."

"Because he's scared." Royce was impressed with Ninya's knowledge. She could be very useful, he thought. "Keep one eye on him, keep the other on the scene. Unfortunately there's other people here who require my attention. I'll be seeing you later." he stood up gruffly and straightened his pinstripe suit jacket, coloured like coal. He made his way into the crowd, impossible to miss.

A great staircase led up from the landing pads, and Royce stood like a sentinel watching over them. He couldn't miss any big name arrivals, and he didn't want them to miss him, lest they get any wrong impression about the state of the new management.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

KINGS:
A Rise of the Underworld Story

Objective:
Mondulla the Hutt, a once powerful crime lord on Coruscant, has died. At his funeral, criminal elements from all across the galaxy have come to either pay respects or to schmooze, hoping to get in on some of the money that's changing hands on the casino floor. Maybe your character is even the one responsible for the Hutt Crime Boss' death...

Non-underworld characters are more than welcome to join, be they Alliance politicians, do-gooder Jedi, or something between.

Weapons are strictly prohibited inside the Nightfox Casino.​

 

[Ivory Stroud]

The Donna's arrival was preceded, as-was her custom, by little fanfare. The Family had indicated their intention to attend the funeral of Mondulla The Hutt and pay their respects.

Two of her Soldiers, both humans dressed in typical Coruscanti business-attire, accompanied her as she strode through the door of the casino. Ivory was dressed in a simple yet elegant black dress which accentuated her curves nicely; a few of her numerous tattoos shown where the material did not cover bare skin, but such artwork was not uncommon amongst those in her profession. Raven-black hair fell down her back like a waterfall, and one side of her head was shaved - hidden, somewhat, by the wide brim of a black hat & black veil kept her face concealed in shadow. Black boots rose and fell with a sharp crack at every step.

The Donna was the first to begin ascending the steps into the casino and the two men followed her lead. They carried nothing, and were unarmed.. presumably. Their bags would be attended to in due time.

The Donna reached the top of the steps and immediately recognized Royce , approaching the man at an easy gait. When she reached him, The Donna lifted a hand, removing the hat from her head and exposing a beautiful face, pale skin, red lips, and penetrating violet eyes.

"Hello, Royce... it's a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for inviting us." She offered a hand for the Crime Lord to shake.

 

[Hacks]

Nightfox Casino,
Coruscant

The Darkwire slicer did not arrive in luxury on the landing pads, rather she took the turbolift. Hacks was exhausted. A layer of sweat and grime clung to her uncomfortably, a second skin she desperately wished to wash off. Metal hands dug through her pockets, feeling for any credits she might have left over but only felt lint. She almost laughed. Perhaps she could find an easy target and drain their accounts. The lift came to a jarring stop, doors opening to a bustling lobby.

Hacks had heard about the funeral through her connections. She figured she could network and find some jobs before she hit the New Jedi Order temple tomorrow. The thought of it made her stomach sink. It was a big job that required gathering together the most elite bounty hunters in the galaxy; Koda Fett and Ghorua the Shark. Hacks tossed her head to either side, erasing the thought before the anxiety claimed her. She rested her four cybernetic hands into her pockets and began to shuffle out onto the casino floor, trailing a path of grease with her boots.

Her eyes darted over the crowd, the micro-computing system within her glasses began rudimentary facial recognition searches and background checks, pulling up public information on those she spied. Ivory Stroud registered, but not due to public information. Hacks raised her brows briefly, almost uttering something in surprise. The information was from Darkwire, what the hell was another shadowrunner doing here? she wondered. Despite Hacks having founded Darkwire with fellow slicers Frankie and the mysterious Enigma, Hacks remained relatively unknown among the current Darkwire crowd. She wanted to keep it that way. She made a mental note to not make eye contact with Ivory.

She turned her back to Ivory and walked in the opposite direction. She came to a piano and found a hologram in memorial of Mondulla, oil-stained hands grabbed at the hand-held projector and she gave the Hutt a closer look. Her glasses were unable to register the face, Hacks wondered if it was the quality of the hologram or the considerable folds of fat that drooped over the Hutts face. "I always get an idea of just how grotesque these dudes are, and I swear every time I see them they prove me wrong by being even nastier than I imagine," she quietly remarked to herself, then placed the hologram back to its place.

She moved aside and took a seat at the far end of the crowd, taking a drink from a passing waitress and slowly sipping as she watched the various exchanges going on. Her eyes looked back over to Ivory and she stared at Royce for a moment, her glasses bringing up a list of information on the man. She didn't much care for his industrial dealings, although the vague connections to the Hutt Cartel were interesting. It was almost fact the rumours were true if he was here. She glanced from the gluttonous businessman and over to the hologram of the deceased Hutt, then back, "They got something in common at least." She sipped at the drink again and turned her back to them to continue surveying the scene.
​

 

[Diocletian Kahmen’’a]

Location: Nightfox Casino, Coruscant
Tags: Open

It felt odd not to have any weapons on him, he absently waved at the spot where his sword usually was, but the rules are the rules and Diocletian wasn't about to upend anything and cause a scene. It could get him killed.

He was here because he had been at one stage on this particular Hutt's payroll as a Bounty Hunter. Which stayed in place until the Ubese was poached by a larger, wealthier Hutt. Still, he thought he should pay his respects regardless of loyalty, he had no claim to any of Mondulla's estate, if he did, he wouldn't take it, no value to him personally.

Besides as part of the Family, well, associate, it wouldn't look good if he stayed away. He wasn't a very social person, so he lurked around the background, soon, however, the call of drinking will pull him forward and into the bar. Drinking is something that he had started to dabble in more frequently and with intensity.

He had inched towards the bar and took a drink for himself; it was lurid pink in colour and had bubbles in it. Well, it's not like it will hurt to try, if he didn't like it he would nudge it away. This wasn't bad at all if he was honest with himself.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

OUT FRONT—

—where arriving guests could toss a coin in Jerec's instrument case, he strummed and sang a mournful tune.

---

Now and then you almost get your drek together
But in your heart I think you're happy to be small fry
Told myself that you were relevant
Now I guess all your ambition's spent
More of a social club and less of an empire

You can get addicted to the red-and-black aesthetic
The gothic dreadnoughts that never fire a gun
For gambling purposes please let me know
Just how much farther do you think you'll go
Or are the Sith on an indefinite vacation?

Your best acolytes prefer the Maw
May be grungy but they get up off
Their ass and do something
You like debates and leather duelling gloves
Not big on duels but don't worry
Your cult says you're so strong
Your lawful evil plan is bland and slow
Anytime you want, emerge from the shadows
Whenever you like, emerge from the shadows
Dragged kicking and screaming out of the shadows

I'm not saying all your empires were awesome
But now and then you gave me Sith drek I could fear
Been years since you could fight that way
Malevolence and quality swordplay
I guess I need to let it go
And stop dreaming of the Sith Lords
Emerging from the shadows...

---

The song split into a harmonious two-part round, one part out of each side of Jerec's neck.

Four throats. Quite powerful.

 

[Daozu Pyke]

Daozu never cared for funerals. It wasn't that he couldn't handle the death and despair, those elements were present in all parts of life in this chaotic galaxy. It was simply that the Pyke didn't care. People died, it was the natural order of things. Some died sooner than they should have, some got what they deserved. Many died by his own hand, when the situation called for it. Daozu was sure that those people meant something to someone... somewhere... but to him, it was just another day.

His guards accompanied him toward the entrance, handing their weapons in as they checked themselves in. Daozu casually tossed some credits toward the stranger singing outside as they passed, not bothering to make eye contact as he made his way for the door. He cared not for the message the song conveyed, its subtext only emphasizing that he was at a funeral. That being said, Daozu would give all the same, because if there was something that a funeral was good for, it was making a credit or too. And that was something admirable. In fact, he was hoping to make some credits by showing as well, albeit not in such an immediate fashion. No... he was looking to make connections, ones that would benefit both him and his colleagues in the Midas Web.

They made their way into the building, and Daozu took another discrete hit off of the spice dispenser built into his mask. As the euphoria began to set in, he scanned the room, looking for potential contacts. There were many unknown faces among the crowd, making him largely an unknown. That was his comfort zone; those that weren't doing business with him, shouldn't know him, and those that stopped doing business with him would often end up dead. Anonymity was a powerful tool, one that he used quite efficiently. He made his way to the bar, his two guards in tow. He often found that business presented itself wherever the drinks were sold, so for now, he would order one for himself and wait.

 

[Zavvo the Hutt]

The first notable attendee to grace the grand staircase was none other than Ivory Stroud herself, though from the way she strode unhampered by whispering gazes he figured not many people in the casino knew her by look. He stepped directly up to him as few others in the place could dare and outstretched her hand. He took her hand and place a gentle customary kiss on the top.

"A pleasure to see you, Madam."

As he raised up over her again he saw the arrival of a shadowed cadre of Pykes, passing him by and entering the funeral. He couldn't tell if they were dressed solemnly for the deceased or if black was just their regular modus operandi.

It was only a matter of time until the Pykes had to show, he concluded. He wondered whether to keep them away from the shrimp appetizers. The Pykes had been a thorn in his side for years, the one barrier keeping him from the spice trade. They had of course muscled their way back onto Kessel with a force large enough to take a star system, all the while frothing at the mouth for that precious orange powder they craved so much. Sansanna spice had cost him his closest partner, paid by a bolt to the back of Mako Pyke's head.

"Agh... pardon me, Ms. Stroud. I hate to do this, but a disaster waiting to happen has arrived. It requires my urgent attention. Please send the Family my regards."

He bowed a curt adieu to the Donna and her associates, then turned with purpose to the bar where the Pykes haunted.

"Oh Mako..." Royce grumbled under his breath as he eyed Daozu up and down. It would insult the Syndicate not to engage with this one. Dealing with Oba Diah these days was so unlike dealing with Hutta. The Pykes' money had let them resist the Bryn'adul in a way the sloppy Cartel couldn't. The Hutts had resorted to the Jedi for aid, a poor fate for criminals. He traded in Ryll, and that good DEAF stuff, but those were both known for ironfisted producers. Kessel, at least, he had a chance of actually staking some ownership.

He approached the bar along side tem, shooting a glance to Ninya. The Twi'lek girl kept her head down and shuffled over to serve drinks to the Pykes if they so chose.

"If you've come interested in the Hutt's KDY contracts I'm afraid I've got bad news." he addressed Daozu Pyke . He wasn't sure what they were here for, but Mondulla's Kuati assets were just about the last thing not taken from him. Not taken by other criminals at least. "Old slug picked a bad time to go."

 

[Daozu Pyke]

Daozu grabbed a drink from the Twi'lek, motioning her away as he placed it on the bar. Her demeanor was quite reserved, showing that she must have learned to keep her head down... literally and figuratively. A wise choice, given the company here. Among the underworld, it was dangerous to be too loud, to attract too much attention. It's something that Daozu had mastered avoiding over the years. Even with the power that the Pyke Syndicate had amassed, he found it better to keep a low profile when he could.

"Indeed he did..."

It wasn't a secret that the situation on Kuat was tedious at best, and was certainly not a great investment at the time. There was discussion among Daozu's colleagues of staking their claim, but the conversation ended quite quickly. No matter the potential in the future, they would not go anywhere near that planet until things has calmed down.

"It's not KDY that I've come to discuss. There's growing opportunities in the wake of these... regime changes of late. Credits to be made, power to be had."

Daozu took another hit off of his spice dispenser, leaning back in his seat for a moment while he let the effects kick in. Many would likely suffer from more robust side effects when taking the quantities of the substance that the Pyke tended to use, but in recent times he found his tolerance level to have grown considerably high. It was something that often caused people to underestimate him; a powerful tool he had used time and again.

"I often find that funerals breed opportunity, but often not in the places that people think. The most benefit is gained where others aren't paying attention. The less mouths, the bigger the slice."

He was rambling now, as he often tended to do when in a less than sober condition, which honestly was more often than it should be. His laid back demeanor made him less threatening, just as he liked. There was no need for a show of strength. After all, it's always the quiet ones you should watch out for.

"Your partner... my cousin... well, he wasn't always one who understood such things. But that is in the past."

It was a subtle jab, a hint that Daozu wasn't fooled by what other's may have been told. He knew the business all too well, and at the end of the day... Mako got sloppy. Though many in such a profession found themselves dying prematurely, Daozu would have never put himself in such a position.

"Perhaps you understand these principles better than he did."

 

[Ivory Stroud]

The Donna began to discuss pleasantries, but had noticed the entry for the Pikes.. familiar by reputation, but not personally. She nodded as Royce excused himself politely; clearly, the game was in motion.

With a few whispered words to her two attending soldiers, the Donna sent one of them to secure their lodging and another to ensure their belongings were transported to the rooms... Then, they would rejoin her.

Ivory moved into the lounge area herself, approaching the bar - a glance at Diocletian Kahmen’’a whom she recognized as one of her own. She was relieved to see a trustworthy face.

Ivory ordered a glass of champagne - the same thing that her Associate had ordered - and slid a small tip toward the lovely Twi'lek girl attending the patrons. She sipped at her glass, bubbles tickling her nose pleasantly as she approached the Ubese Bounty Hunter. She addressed "D", the nickname he often used for himself: "Not many friends of ours. Funerals can be a great place to make them. Have you been here long?"

Polite small talk, but a subtle message.

 

[Zavvo the Hutt]

He remembered when the word came in. Close to midnight on that fateful day he'd received the call: Mako had been killed. The media played it as the Pyke Syndicate pushing into the Core Worlds. Nothing more than gang violence. Royce was the real power behind Upper City, and his record was clean. But the Pykes had done some cleaning of their own, and Mako's assets had reverted back to Oba Diah. That left them in the precarious situation they found themselves in. Royce had no access to Kessel, the Syndicate had no more access to the Core.

"We all make... mistakes."

Ain't that the truth, he thought. He sometimes thought Mako's death had been his mistake, but another part of him said it was only a matter of time before their partnership fell by the wayside. Mako's increasingly heavier use of the spice made him erratic, paranoid. Royce knew he was either going to out him, or worse, get the Pykes to move on his territory in force.

"And your cousin's passing has made me see many things. What has it made you see, Mr.....?

Daozu Pyke

 

[Jerec Asyr]

OUT FRONT—

—Jerec kept singing duets out both sides of his neck.

---

Tell me something, girl
Don't you wanna go and conquer worlds?
I think you need more
Than the politics these Darths adore
You're yawning
Always posturing but you know they're stalling
It's strange
No ambition once they broke their chains

Tell me, acolyte
When's the last real time you saw them fight?
Why don't they want more?
And what are all these dusty legions for?
Left wanting
Where's the motivation from all this fawning
Mild rage
Any chance we'll get a golden age?

Scared of the deep end, no risk and no win
Complacent and so hidebound
On exhibition, in mint condition
Come out of the shadows now...

 

[Maou]

A funeral? At a Casino? Maou couldn't have thought of something so terribly suited for a venue. Regardless, he was here. He and the Hutt and never really seen eye to eye, but it was important for him to show his face despite Aiko Hayata and her constant badgerings disrupting his business ventures on Corellia. It was also probably unwise for him to be here on Coruscant, but he doubted the fool Bernard of Arca had connected the "Sith Lord", which he most certainly wasn't, and the "Crime Boss". If they were looking for him it was probably out on the battlefields against the Maw.

A small waisted Twi'lek tried to scoot by his bulky frame without offering a drink, her eyes plastered to the floor. The meekness wasn't enough to hide her though and he took a drink from her tray anyways, if only to hold one so that it looked as if he was socializing with these Coruscanti ruffians.

"Thank you," he said, his voice heavily modulated by the helmet's speakers. The Twi'lek squeaked and scampered away.