Now the Rains Weep (Nar Shaddaa)

[Gorba the Hutt]

Rain fell on Nar Shaddaa from an angry sky. Rainfall on the smuggler's moon was not a pleasant event. Droplets stung and burned, a consequence of the moon's nonexistent emissions regulations. Still, the deluge washed away the violence of the past day.

Night drew on and the victorious members of the newly minted Cabal filtered into the palace to quench parched throats in a tide of alcohol.

Music blared from every speaker. The clubs in the Pink Quarter came alive to the thrumming masses. Gorba lifted the entry fee - though only for mercenaries who had participated of course (he ran a cartel, not a charity group).

Bareesh and other mercenaries made their to the flashing neon signs for the premier Ardos Disk club, usually reserved solely for Aurodium members.

Amidst the undulating bodies partied mercs still half-in their armor. Awash in the smell of pheromones, spice and sweat. Pauul Farrlo cut the rug in the middle of the dance floor. Narbo sat at a booth on the second level, one arm around a Twi'lek and the other around a bountiful Gamorrean lass. Grothma lay across from him on an enormous divan, looking grouchy despite the five slaves waiting on him hand and foot. Brutus stood on the third level, arms crossed, looking down on the entire club to ensure the night ran smoothly. His eyes were bloodshot. He'd been up for a while now.

Over the speakers came the booming voice of Gorba the Hutt, urging them to celebrate their acquisition of the Network Access. The vagabonds complied heartily.

[member="Ar'ekk"] | [member="Okh-Verg"] | [member="Nor'baal Durga Bareesh"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"] | [member="Yu Praji"] | [member="Xian Valart"] | [member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"] | [member="Kael Rose"] | [member="Teroch Werda"] | [member="Ruug'la Jag"] | [member="Koda Fett"]

 

[Harvi Kwen]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]
If there's one thing Harvi Kwen loved, it was a good party. Nar Shaddaa was a party town any night of the week, but today, things seemed to be extra exciting. Entering the club was worth the entry fee; thankfully the bouncer had been in a good mood, and Harvi prided himself on charisma. The club was sufficiently loud and bright, making Harvi feel right at home. But, unfortunately, he was not here for pleasure. He was here on business. Though, whether he actually remembered that or not was up for grabs. As soon as Harvi walked in his blue eyes took on their mad sparkle. This was his place.

Colorfully dressed in a red smuggler's vest, red pants, white shirt, and black belt and boots, with shaggy hair dyed red and blue, Harvi stuck out sufficiently well among all the half-armored mercenaries. He danced his way across the floor, snatched a drink from a passing waitress, and sent a wink and an insane grin to the most attractive girl in his line of sight, all in one fluid motion. He got a few odd looks, but rather than be put off, he soaked them in. He loved the spotlight, however small it may be.

Finally, though, he remembered the real reason why he was here. Pulling out his datapad, he drained his glass and checked again the name of the man he was looking for. All that was listed was "Narbo". Harvi swaggered up to the bar and, leaning on his elbows, smiled at the bartender.

"Lookin' for Narbo," he said, "Point me in the right direction, would ya boyo?" The bartender cocked an eyebrow at the young smuggler, who stared right back with an insane grin on his face. Then he raised a single finger towards the upper levels.

"Cheers, mate," Harvi said. He snagged the glass of a nearby Rodian who was took drunk to even see sit up straight, drained it, and headed for the second level. Upon reaching them he looked around, and his eyes fell on a man sitting in a booth, his arms around two women. Harvi sauntered up and leaned against the wall.

"Mr. Narbo, I presume?" he said, grinning, "Harvi Kwen, smuggler extraordinaire. I was wondering if the great and powerful Gorbo the Hutt might have need of a man such as myself."

Spoiler

I'm really going for a male Harley Quinn vibe for this character, but insane characters are tough for me, so let me know in our PM how I'm doing

 

[Janeth Farr]

NAR SHADDAA
Gorba's Palace

How long have I been here?

Janeth finally awoke. This time on a medical table with her arms and legs strapped down by metal cuffs. Her eyes moved rapidly from side-to-side, trying to make sense of her surroundings when she noticed something moved towards her. A droid pieced together from parts that did not belong as one.

The Mandalorian felt a throbbing sensation in her legs, letting out a pained groan.

"Ah! Patient 7-3 dash 8-4-B. I see you have not shut down in the night. This is good news indeed!" The droid rolled across the floor on its treads.

Janeth turned her head as best she could to get a better view, squinting into the bright light shining down at her. The droid raised its arm and deployed a strange needle which pressed deep into her exposed thigh. She felt another jolt of pain, this time all across her body as it injected the mystery substance into her blood stream. She grit her teeth this time, exhaling harshly through her nostrils.

The droid rolled back. "I'm afraid this is all I can do to prepare you. I warned my master that you were at risk of malfunction should you exert yourself, but I do not desire to be put back together again."

"Put back to--..." Janeth felt a rush of adrenaline overcome her and gasped. "... What's happening to me?"

"Your legs were badly damaged, but now you should be able to use them at full capacity. I do warn against it, however, as my repairs to your parts were only temporary." The droid continued to roll back to its original position. Idling in place now.

After a few moments of eerie silence, the door along the far side of the room slid open. Two Weequay bodyguards entered the room and marched over to Janeth, unlatching the restraints and forcing her to her feet.

"Come. Now!" One nudged her with the butt of his rifle. The other carried an electrified polearm and babbled on about something in Huttese. They led the woman down a hallway against her will, and into the bowels of the palace which reeked of death and animal feces. On their way towards a larger chamber, Janeth overheard two handlers arguing over which 'beast' their master favoured the most. That's not comforting... She thought to herself.

Finally they entered the chamber, and inside was a wall containing armour and weapons. Most of which were now many ages old and worn by time and use alike. The guard led her by the arm and shoved her onto the coarse floor. "You have ten minutes to prepare, then we force you into the arena!" His grin revealed a row of decrepit, brown teeth. The other guard howled like a mad hound with laughter.

"No time to lose then." She brought herself back to her feet, and walked over to the wall of armour. She fastened a terenthium-desh plated jumpsuit and selected an old scatter pistol from the wall. The energy pack was nearly depleted, a fact she noticed but suspected to remain true for everything else in the room. The warrior wasn't here to win, she was here to die; yet in what way did her enemy imagine her death?

By now Janeth had realized she was somewhere in Gorba's palace. The sights, the smells, the style of her execution... Every bit of it screamed Hutt and there was only one Hutt who would care enough to arrange it. He didn't care about her, though. No... She was simply the target of his smug anger against the Collective. An organization they only knew as those who robbed Network Access from the Hutts. That is why she was thawed and left to die, but her death in the grand scheme would be irrelevant.

Janeth approached the large blast door leading into the arena, it began to raise slowly with a deep bellow as the one behind her sealed shut. She knelt low to peer through the small opening, and saw four green scythes pressed into the floor of the arena. Acklay. She noted. A terrible creature to be sure. One she hadn't fought, but one she knew of. The Mandalorians of her clan used to hunt them regularly on Vendaxa as proof of a warrior's prowess in battle.

This wasn't exactly the kind of hunt Janeth had in mind, but if she did survive, at least she had a tale to bring home. For now she focused on the rest of the arena as the door continued to rise above. The acklay started to move towards it, trained in repetition that its prey always lied beyond that metal door. That is when she spotted large grates alongside the circular walls of the arena.

When the blast door opened high enough, Janeth rolled quickly through the gap and underneath the beast. Its serrated jaws crashed down into the floor behind her, and she blasted it once in the belly. The beast stumbled back with a screech. Its leg knocking Janeth across the floor. Gooey blood spilled from its open wound and Janeth dared it closer as she backed towards the wall. The enraged acklay beelined for the warrior, screeching with determination to crush her between its powerful jaws.

The beast closed the distance between them at a rather alarming rate, and to any spectators it appeared certain that Janeth was doomed. The acklay darted its head forward to grab her, and once more Janeth nearly avoided the jaws of death with a quick roll to side. The beast gripped at the grate on the wall, tearing it off with a powerful jerk of its neck. Whilst it was busy crushing metal with its teeth, Janeth ran towards the opening and slid. However, it didn't take long before the acklay realized its prey had escaped it once again.

As Janeth slid inside, the beast's scythe-like leg slammed down near the opening. "Aghhh!" She screamed in tremendous pain as she fell inside. Janeth looked down at her hand with a wide-eyed gaze, seeing two fingers furthest from her thumb now missing from her right hand. She brought the nubs near the barrel of her pistol, and fired a shot towards the floor. The heat of the blast immediately cauterized the wound.

She breathed heavily through the grit in her teeth and ran down the empty shaft in search of an exit.

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]