Not on my ship

[Kairon Rees]

There weren't many things that Kairon really feared. He'd seen a lot in his time, but had always managed to stay well clear of Jedi and Sith business. Yet as he washed down his hands, he found his thoughts revolving around their destination again. The mighty Sempra the Hutt himself had insisted they have an audience so that he could personally convey the importance of this run to them. Rees didn't like it. His risk averse nature had hit the Quin's profit margins, and the high pay for this job suggested there was a greater risk involved than it seemed. Unmarked cargo, not to be opened. Very strange.

He carefully slid out of the overalls he'd spent most of his time in during the trip. Wouldn't do to turn up to a meal leaving a trail of grease behind him. The Grey Warden was in reasonable condition and all of the primary systems were functioning well. However, there were plenty of little niggles. Most of his attention had been paid to the artificial gravity. Only the computer had notices the minor variations. Not a problem in of itself, but there was a data connection from those systems to the inertial dampers. He didn't much fancy becoming a smear on the back of Mal's cabin wall.

He quite enjoyed the simple mandrolic work. His hands had been kept busy nearly the entire time since his ship had taken a hammering for the Alliance. It had been a slow adjustment, but he found the manual work quite satisfying. It also kept him out if the cockpit. He and Mal had shared a few terse words over the first days, which had made the rest of the crew a touch uncomfortable. He was used to being in charge and was set in his ways, they were also both a match in their stubborn and short-tempered nature. They'd talked about this of course, they were adults after all. Both had agreed that working out a personal and working relationship at the same time was just a bit too much. Nothing had taken the shine off his infatuation and his stomach was still doing flips when they crossed paths.

What was most amusing about working relationships was how Asmus reacted to Mal. She said jump, he jumped. No complaints, no quips, no slacking. It seemed the boy was even more afraid of strong female figures than Kairon had thought. After the amount of time Kairon had spent arguing with the lad, not to mention turfing out the dregs of spaceports from his own ship on account of him, he found the whole affair quite amusing.

There was no one at the galley yet, but there would be shortly. Communal meals were a good way to keep everyone working smoothly together. Rees sorted through a few cupboards and started chopping some vegetables. The White Palace itself. Feth.

 

[Malia Afredane]

The Warden was taking some getting used to. Several times larger than the Wicked Grace or even the Quintessence, with cabin space to spare, she could carry far more cargo and with the increased weaponry, she could defend herself from others thinking she was easy prey. She didn't have a full crew complement yet. Sidara was there, and she was good in navigation, Jarrick was a pretty good pilot, but that meant she or Rusty usually had to be in the cockpit at all times because this beast took 2 pilots. It reminded Mal of the transports she used to fly for the Republic. This thing had more maneuvering thrusters than Gracie had engines.

Not to mention that the Warden didn't fit at the spaceports she normally frequented. This was a whole new ball of wax but the larger cargo space had been helpful in getting some decent paying jobs for a bit while the crew of the Quintessence helped out. The Quin was still in spacedock for repair and Mal could tell it was driving Kairon insane not to be in the cockpit. However, he was a capable mechanic and there was plenty to look into aboard the Warden.

Rusty's people had done a number on it and one of the cabins had been converted into his work room. It was decked out with everything he had on Gracie and then some. They had all the same kinds of upgrades on the Warden including the increased sensors, communications panel and IFF loaded with enough transponder codes to keep them out of trouble for a good long while. However, this invitation from the White Palace was troubling.

Mal was leaning on the edge of the counter in Rusty's workshop, her legs crossed one over the other and her arms mirroring it. They were sitting in high orbit over Sriluur, having arrived the previous evening but the invitation to appear before Sempra was not until a little latter this morning. She could smell something being cooked in the mess, but right now she was having a quiet conversation about her gut. There was no indication to what the meeting was about other than Sempra had been impressed with Mal's work on a small matter dealing with a rival cartel. The payment on that job had been all the appreciation she needed but now he wanted them front and center. It felt hinky.

"Our friends have anything to say on this one? Other than the usual, it's Hutts, be careful of the slime?"

[member="Rusty"] [member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"]

 

[Rusty]

"Yeah, this guy is supposed to be slimier than normal. Word is he's a flesh peddler."

Rusty was elbow deep in something that looked suspiciously like one of his R2-AU units. The dome was off, and the minigun was sitting on the counter. He was supposed to be retrofitting the thing to handle a Shard, and one that didn't particularly like the idea of being a rolling suicide bomber. The detonite had to come out before the obstreperous little [bleep] would agree to hop in the thing.

"I guess that's nothing new for a Hutt, but I can't say I'm a fan of the idea. They say he's pretty particular about who he hires though. The fact that we're on his radar is kinda disturbing. Not sure if the Syndicate floated our name to him or not, but my friends say we shouldn't take him lightly. He doesn't handle rejection all that well."

[member="Malia Afredane"]
[member="Kairon Rees"]
[member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"]

 

[Azula Tindara]

[member="Narasa Kelori"]
[member="Sempra the Hutt"]
Time: First thing in the morning on the day of the meeting
Location: White Palace


Thrukk’s armour made a racket as he strode through the halls of the White Palace. A servant was too slow moving out of his way, and had a quick kick to the rump delivered. Given the size of massive houk’s leg, it sent the Twi’lek flying.

“Shoods hae moved yer arse!” Thrukk called after the slave, who rapidly retreated with a limp.

Rounding a corner, he entered Sempra’s throne room. The Hutt was on his dais, speaking to some of his advisors. As Thrukk approached he was handed a datapad by one of the slaves. One hand held it up, whilst the other patted down his armour for a cigarra. Today was one of those days when Sempra moved into the audience chamber in the centre of the White Palace and spent his time entertaining guests. There was a busy agenda for the day, lots of slave dealers and arms dealers in the afternoon, lots of smugglers and distributers in the morning.

He noted small red marks against several of the names. Those were parties that displeased the mighty Sempra. Thrukk knew the drill. During those meetings he had to stay alert, in case punishment needed to be meted out. Half a tonne of houk pit fighter was fairly good at providing up-close intimidation when required. That was if the hundreds of guards, bounty hunters and nefarious characters already in the palace weren’t threatening enough. There was a nice green tick next to the following smugglers "Malia Alfredane and crew." That was always easier for him, as it generally indicated Sempra was greatly pleased with their work. That was the nature of the Hutt Cartel. Those that worked well were showered with praise and gifts. Those that did not please the Hutt....well they usually ended up as the afternoon's entertainment.

Passing the datapad to a nearby slave, Thrukk lit his cigarra with a match, which he idly discarded onto the sandy floor. “Mornin’ boss,” he called.

 

[Sempra the Hutt]

Sempra stretched and seemed to consider all the busy advisors and slaves work pretty uninteresting. A yawn was followed by him nodding away a red twi'lek reporting about a new Nikto gang having successes on Nar Kreeta, a deep sigh dismissed the pale albino slave whispering court secrets to his master.

To most his lazy ppearance was but a mockery to this great machinery working around him... to most. But those who had been in the hutts service for some time knew all to well that it was all a ploy. Sempra the hutt took it all in, seperating lies, rumors and gossip from truth, facts and flaterry. It all served a purpose in the white palace - the hutt merely played along, allowing his vast court to percieve him above petty matters but never daring ignore forwarding what they knew in order to stand a chance at rising in the hutt favor.

As four broad shouldered gamoreans started to push his throne into the central large audiance chamber under neath the central dome of the palace he looked up with a sly grin at [member="Thrukk Gulpdar"]

"Ah, the mighty Thrukk. Good of you too come on this day." he greeted with his dark brooding voice.

Then the gates to the central chamber opened up nd the hutt court poured in filling its spaces, from the dark corners to the open tables by the bar.

The day had begun.

[member="Rusty"] [member="Malia Afredane"] [member="Kairon Rees"][member="Thrukk Gulpdar"]

 

[Narasa Kelori]

Time: Morning Rush at The White Palace

Among the throngs of those entering to entertain and be entertained, those looking for work and working those looking, Narasa was just another face in the crowd. It was the Zabrak's first time at The White Palace and, as much as she wished to never see the inside of the place, it had been where her last ride had gone upon completion of their job. Though she entered with that crew, she split off from them with a wave and a quick and final "thanks" to secure a location where she would have a good view of the room without making herself particularly obvious. Narasa had been taking the odd job while her ship was temporarily out of commission; there were repairs to be made and paid for, after all, and so she dealt with being lowered from captain back to working hand for the duration of her downtime. Actually, in some ways, not having to worry about all of the angles on her own was a relief.

Front and center in the room stood the Hutt's dais with Sempra himself present. Narasa's gaze didn't linger on him once she had established he was there; one Hutt pretty much looked like the rest.

He probably thinks the same about every other species.

Regardless, she didn't intend to work for Sempra. She just needed someone heading off-world who might pick up a job thereafter. Word on the kind of jobs Sempra offered didn't sit well with someone of her background. The woman ducked around a chatting group of Rodians and grinned when one glared at her for narrowly missing him with her horns. Look, Ma. I'm already making friends.

 

[Azula Tindara]

"Ah wooldnae miss th' meetings fur anythin' in th' warld!" Thrukk lied, before blowing out a great smoke ring. He found the Hutt's meetings to be endlessly tedious. Grovelling fools came from all corners of the Galaxy to try and nibble at the scraps dropped at the table of the Hutt Cartel; bounty hunters gathered to discuss the next contracts; smugglers came to do their business and negotiate their prices. All the while Thrukk had to stand around looking menacing and try not to fall asleep.

For the first meetings he stood to the side of the dais, attempting to add something of a formal pretence to proceedings. After a very short time he had decided this was going to make his legs tired, so he sauntered through the crowd pretending to look for trouble. Unfortunately he found some. A pair of bounty hunters were squabbling over a quarry. One had the bounty cuffed, the other claimed to have been stunned just outside the palace.

"Sempra will hear yer bellyachin' later, save it," Thrukk shouted, one thumb gesturing to the massive flechette cannon across his back. They took no heed and one of them moved a hand perilously close to his blaster pistol. That wouldn't do at all. One quick step closer and Thrukk towered over the pair. In one smooth motion he clapped them both round the back of the necks and slammed their heads together. They had only been inches apart, but still it was enough to send them reeling.

"Ah said enough!" Thrukk glowered, daring either to draw weapons. A few other enforcers had already appeared. Both decided it would be a good idea to present their arguments to the Hutt, instead of let the discussion turn to violence.

 

[Kairon Rees]

Kairon finished chopping some vegetables and turned to cracking some eggs into a bowl. As he turned the heavy-weight lock necessary for cabinets on a space ship, he saw his nephew walk into the galley and take a seat. Turning back to the counter, Kairon started breaking shells. "You do understand it's the morning?" Kairon asked with a sly grin.

"Yeah, of course," Asmus replied, seemingly affronted.

"Have you ever seen a morning before?" Kairon asked. Asmus decided not to reply to that, changing his mind and heading to grab a mug of water. Kairon laughed as he started to whisk the eggs. It seemed Mal was really keeping the lad under the thumb. It the lad could learn some discipline this tour would perhaps be the best thing that had happened to him in years.

 

[Malia Afredane]

"The Syndicate's whole thing is to be the middle person. We have never given an indication that we would work directly for a Hutt. The only thing I can think of is that he got our name some other way. And considering some of our jobs, we've either done his work without knowing it or worked against him without knowing it. Neither of which gives me a warm fuzzy feeling."

She would make herself eat something before she went to the meeting, but her stomach was unsettled and she wasn't hungry. Neither of them wanted to take the meeting but both agreed that you didn't stay on the healthy side of living by telling a cartel boss no. However, if the Hutt was going to push Mal, she was prepared to do exactly that. There were certain things that Mal didn't mess with, moral lines in the sand for her. Her greatest fear walking into this unknown was that the Hutt would demand her to do something across that line and what her refusal would mean to the others on the Warden. Bigger ship, bigger money, bigger problems.

"Might as well get Gracie ready to go and get this over with."

She shook her head and kicked off to leave the shop. Mal headed towards the smell of food, checking her chrono. She saw Asmus sitting at the table, Kairon making breakfast. She just wanted a caf.

"Asmus, when you're done with chow, you and Jarrick will prep Gracie for the trip down. No need to take the Warden if it isn't necessary."

[member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Rusty"] [member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

[member="Malia Afredane"] [member="Rusty"] [member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"] [member="Sempra the hutt"]

Kairon barely contained his mirth as Asmus nodded and wolfed down the rest of his breakfast. Once the lad had left the galley, he turned to Mal with one eyebrow raised. “What have you done with my workshy nephew?” he asked. “By the way I think I’ve worked out the source of the AG fluctuations. Nothing concerning, but you’re going to need a new part. Few hundred credits used. Oh, you couldn’t pour me a mug could you?” he added, seeing her go for the caf. He could see the concern etched on her face. He tried to mask his own feelings on this meeting, which likely mirrored her own.

 

[Sidara Vercopa-Vhett]

Sid patted her pockets down looking for the pack of cigarettes she knew she grabbed before she left her bunk. Not finding them in her upper pockets she cursed to herself ready to turn back to go get them when her hands fell on them on her thigh pocket. She pulled them out of her pocket and slid one out of the pack, then stopped realizing she was on a ship and didn't want to light up if it bothered others. She put them away and sighed, wondering if it was too early to crack open a new bottle of whiskey.

Sid stepped into the galley and smelled the caf that was just brewed. "Oh, I guess this will do", she said and nodded to her friend Mal. "It going to assume you all think it's too early for whiskey, so I will settle for this." She took a seat at the table and took a sip of the hot liquid. It was strong for sure, just the way she liked it.

"So, fill me in on what you've got going on. I'd welcome a distraction from the search for my husband. What can I do to help you?"

 

[Malia Afredane]

She poured Kairon a caf, nodding at his suggestion of getting a replacement part.

"Yeah, we can get one soon, I'll have Rusty look out for it. He's got a second sense about where to find obscure junk like that."

She looked down the hall to see if the Shard had extricated himself from the astromech chassis but instead she saw Sid padding down the hall. It was always a toss up between Sid and Mai who would appear first in the mornings, though neither were particularly vocal before a certain point in the day. She chuckled at the whiskey remark.

"Well, I don't think it's too early, but I probably shouldn't be flying sauced up in a bit. Sempra the Hutt, the well known slaver has asked for a meeting with us. So we're thrilled to contemplate that he's probably looking to either kill us or hire us and either way, saying no a Hutt is a bad idea so really, I'm trying to think of clever things to say in Huttese but failing miserably. You're welcome to come down to the meeting if you think anyone at the palace might know anything about Corr."

[member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"] [member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Rusty"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

Kairon looked up at the liquor cabinet forlornly. Just a few drops in the caf would have gone down quite nicely. At the same time, he certainly didn't like the notion of being slow to react when I'm the presence of the kind of pond life that tended to inhabit a Hutt's abode.

Having a mandalorian around for the negotiations didn't sound a bad idea. He'd seen Sid and Corr briefly when they'd first done a job with Mal. For now, he drank his caf and stayed out of the conversation. He didn't know the particulars of Corr's absence and was in no position to comment or provide advice. It reminded him that he needed to check Mal was happy leaving Asmus behind. Their destination was no place for the youth.

[member="Malia Afredane"]
[member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"]
[member="Narasa Kelori"]
[member="Sempra the Hutt"]
[member="Rusty"]

 

[Sidara Vercopa-Vhett]

Sid nervously fiddled with her cigarette pack, feeling the jones for nicotine creep up. She put them down on the table again and took another slug of her coffee.

"Yes, I will join the meeting. I'd be interested in hearing what this is all about, and it's possible that someone knows about Corr's whereabouts. Who knows, Mal, maybe he made a bad deal with a Hutt and that's what caused is disappearance. Stranger things could have happened. Corr is amazingly good at being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

[member="Kairon Rees"]
[member="Malia Afredane"]
[member="Rusty"]

 

[Rusty]

Eventually, Rusty made his way into the mess. He was still fairly covered in grease, but he wasn't eating, and he tried not to touch anything.

"Corr was the guy with the horns on his helmet, right?"

Uncharacteristically for someone with a droid brain, Rusty was bad with faces. After 900 years or so, they all started running together, and Mandos were worse than most. Sid was one of the few he'd seen without the characteristic T-shaped visor getting in the way, and even that was attributed to the Captain's influence more than anything else. Some of them, he was pretty convinced didn't actually have faces, just slightly smaller helmets underneath the big one.

Still, if it was the guy he was thinking of, the horns were pretty distinctive. Probably not the best idea in the world when going hand to hand, but the Shard reckoned most people never quite got close enough to try. He'd love to if it came to it; always wanted to grab a bull by the horns. If nothing else, it'd confuse the [bleep] out of it.

"So I take it we're bringing the Wicked Grace planetside? No need to risk the Grey Warden if we can help it."

[member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"]
[member="Kairon Rees"]
[member="Malia Afredane"]

 

[Malia Afredane]

It went without saying that anywhere she went, Rusty went. While she was captain, they were equal partners in ownership of the Warden. So no job, even one from a Hutt was taken without the approval of both of them. Together or not at all.

"Yeah, Jarrick and Asmus are prepping her for flight now. As soon as you and Sid are ready to go, we can get down there."

She swallowed the rest of her caf down, reaching for the pot for another cup. Being caffed up probably wasn't the smoothest call, but it was better than being drunk. She looked over at Kairon, her face getting serious.

"While on the Warden, everyone reports to me, however, I cannot and do not have any intention of speaking for the crew of the Quin. Kairon, they are yours and you will be their voice. The rest can stay up here. I'm not leaving the Warden unattended on a Hutt world."

[member='Rusty'] [member='Sidara Vercopa-Vhett'] [member="Kairon Rees"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

[member="Malia Afredane"]
[member="Rusty"]
[member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"]
[member="Narasa Kelori"]

Kairon gave a deferential nod. “As long as you can keep bossing the boy around for me, thank you,” he said with a wry smile. Sometimes his attempts at humour came off a little too deadpan, better to be sure the intention was clear.

With one long swig he drained the rest of his caf, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket. “I want Jarrick coming into the snake pit with us. Mai and Asmus can stay.”

Kairon rolled his shoulders and stretched out his arms trying to get rid of the stiffness from being cramped under the AG unit. Doing work on internal components on ships was always cramped work. Kairon had never had the build for it really. Better to have small mechanics with tiny hands. There were probably some species exceptionally well built for the work, he imagined.

His chair squeaked on the floor as it slid back. “I’m going to grab a blaster belt,” he said quietly. There was no way he was going planetside without a pistol at least. Would look out of place in a Hutt palace without one anyway. As he walked past, his hand lingered on Mal’s shoulder for a moment. He ducked his head as he stepped through the door in the bulkhead and headed off to grab some gear.

 

[Rusty]

Well, it was that time.

Everyone that was going grabbed what they needed and headed for the Wicked Grace.

The old freighter was tucked neatly into the cargo bay of the Gray Warden. The new ship was an order of magnitude more massive, and the Grace didn't even take up a significant chunk of the hold. Granted, it had taken some modification to get the old girl in there, but that was a small price to pay for having a discreet and somewhat disposable transport on hand. The Warden was too big to land in most spaceports without attracting attention, but the Wicked Grace, on the other hand, was not. Sure she was ancient, but maybe one spacer in a hundred would recognize a 3-Z, and of those, only a small fraction would be able to tell she was the real deal.

For the trip down, Rusty took the Wicked Grace's helm. He wasn't a bad pilot by any means, though he lacked the Captain's style. It was important, however, that as the leader of this crew, she was among the first to disembark. Not the very first, mind. Though he didn't exactly explain it to him, Rusty had insisted that Rees exit first to play sniperbait. It was customary for a bodyguard to leave first anyway, so it shouldn't be that big of a deal.

After a suitably drama-free landing, Rusty lowered the boarding ramp from the cockpit and began preparing. He wasn't expected to be invited to the meeting itself, since it was obvious he wasn't a protocol droid and droids with guns made gangsters nervous.

[member="Kairon Rees"]
[member="Malia Afredane"]
[member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"]
[member="Sempra the Hutt"]
[member="Narasa Kelori"]

 

[Azula Tindara]

“The mighty Sempra is greatly displeased with your excuses. He says they are not enough for your repeated failings!” came the call of the protocol droid.

Thrukk was lounging in a table at the corner of the audience chamber, a Twi’lek slave across one knee and a massive flagon of ale in one hand.

“Ahem...Sempra is greatly displeased,” repeated the protocol droid.

“Och that's mah cue!” Thrukk sighed, pushing the slave off of his knee. It had been a long day of tedious meetings, and he had worked himself up to a gentle buzz from the ale. There was a loud scraped as he lifted his massive bronze mace from under the table and strode towards the audience chamber.

The rodian smuggler stood alone in a wide circle of onlookers. Thrukk pushed his way through them and walked towards him. The rodian jabbered something in his native tongue, but Thrukk had never learned the language. He did, however, understand Sempra’s look.

The rodian turned towards him, with a look that Thrukk assumed was desperation. The little creature went for a blaster, but Thrukk’s decade of pit fighting had left him with an agility that surprised most. His mace was swung with one hand as he lunged forwards. There was a resounding crack as the rodian’s arm was broken and the pistol spun across the floor.

One more step and Thrukk was on top of him. His massive mechanical right claw clamped around the smuggler’s skull. Lifting the rodian with ease, he allowed the smuggler the struggle and kick. The crowd laughed and jeered at the pathetic display. Thrukk sighed, this was the same as his time as a slave in the pits, he supposed. Just another show for the crowd.

“It'll be ower in a moment laddie,” he whispered to the dangling smuggler as he looked to Sempra. The intention was clear. The claw squeezed inexorably. There was a scream, then a crack, then the roadian went limp. Thrukk tossed the body to the floor for the slaves to mop up, grabbing a cloth from a nearby servant to wipe the gore from his claw.

“Malia Alfredane and associates,” called a voice from the side of the hall as Thrukk went back to his table.

 

[Sempra the Hutt]

The whole day had been rather dull. Even though [member="Thrukk Gulpdar"] had tried to brighten things Sempra grew weiry the pathetic escuses that constantly failed to either pay up or deliver what they were supposed to. good people is indeed hard to find. that is why the next meeting held Sempra in certain expectation. While the room was stirring with activity Sempra cleared the near vicinity of the are in front of his throne to give his newly arrived guests some space.
It was not only good to see the day come to an end, but also a chance to meet the group that had made him allot of credits. More then they themselves most likely realized.

"Welcome to the White Palace Captain [member="Malia Afredane"] " He started with a low rumbling voice. Slaves carrying trays with all sorts of refreshments from all sides of the galaxy was carried forth to the group.

"Please help yourself with whatever is your desire. Sempra will provide." he offered with a sly grin at the group. and motioned at the slaves.

These were rising stars in the underworld of the outer rim, not at the top, Sempra had several smugglers and the like who were good competitors. But they were well on their way, and if they pulled off this next job they would see all sorts of doors open. Such was the way of the cartel. Most lowly smugglers never even met the Supreme Mogul himself, but when he did - people knew them to be people the hutts saw kindly upon. Well either that or the straight opposite.

"Let me first tell you how pleased I am to see that you managed your last delivery with such success Captain. I am humbled before such... wits..." He smiled and raised a toast to the group.

"to your future wealth!"

[member="Thrukk Gulpdar"] @Rusty @Kairon Rees [member="Malia Afredane"] [member="Sidara Vercopa-Vhett"] [member="Narasa Kelori"]