(PM before joining) A Deal With the Devil

[Barrett Haskins]

"I hope I don't regret this..." The first words he spoke after accepting the title of 'Hutt Liaison', basically he was a nice face the Hutts could hide behind when they were 'politely' screwing someone out of their credits. The slugs had issued the title to him after he had cleared all of the debt he had existing with them and then some, buying alcohol and death sticks on the occasion from their dealers, they figured they'd extend a hand of trust…one they could crush him with if he didn’t prove himself.

They had told him to check his holomail in a couple hours on a secure channel to get his first orders. It had nearly been enough time now, having contemplated his life for the last little bit over a bottle of Corellian Whiskey, his location was an old warehouse that got turned into a bar on Nar Shaddaa, a secret Hutt meeting ground in case of invasion, it had many hidden compartments that even Haskins dared not tinker with, they also had a direct line to his employers when they sent him his mission.

Thoughts of the infamy that would come with such a title teased his head causing him to drown them with more alcohol; a smugger like Barrett Haskins had no time for negativity in his life, instead replacing it with sarcasm and booze, though he would call them a crutch for the broken leg life handed him. The room temperature fire water scolded his worried lips, relinquishing his nerves for a split second. He knew he was going to be fine, he had made it this far with the Hutts, but at the same time this was a make or break point for his career…and potentially his life.

The time had come to meander over to the holo and check his mail one more time, a nervous tick it seemed, he was itching for his job. He was curious to know just how deep he had gone down the rabbit hole of organized crime. The Hutts had been a weakened by the plague just as the rest of the galaxy, even if they closed their borders.Their supply of smugglers and humans had run out, and after the coup most of the Hutts had been slain. He entered his personal name and password, consisting of the regular six characters and one number, and pressed log on. Anyone watching would have thought he had receieved news he had a bounty on his head, his jaw dropped and his stomach churned, the email was written so:

Barrett-

You will meet one of our dearest and closest contacts, Sith Master @[member="Avicus DuSang"] at the Rusted Rodian in fifteen minutes, our tracking devices say you both are within that range and you both have received the same information.

His jaw had yet to close shut, a Sith Master? This was dangerous, Sith and criminals had a long windy history, sometimes good and sometimes bad. What business do we have with the Sith? He asked, he had enough time considering that was where he was already, meaning this Avicus character would arrive soon. He then heard another beep as he went to log out of his account, the Hutts had sent him another letter, this one seemed far more ominous.

Barrett Haskins-

This letter is just to you, we want to inform you that this mission is of utmost importance, the Hutt Lords have been establishing small relations with the Empress, @[member="Ashin Varanin"], you must show the utmost respect and discipline while in her grace's presence, they have the ability to eliminate us and they wouldn’t be scared to do so. Our Hutt lords are counting on you.

PS, your transport has been loaded with a suit to wear.

A sweat broke out over the Smuggler's brow, the pressure was on and he was scared. The Empress of the entire Sith Empire was going to be in an audience with him and whatever Sith Master was en route to give him the details on the transport, assuming he had a craft that would be accepted into Sith Space without a second look. How did they already put suits in his ship? Better yet how were they tracking him?! He realized he needed to stop drinking around the Hutts, tricky types they are.

He slinked back to his booth and poured himself another glass of whiskey, this was going to be a hell of a ride, hopefully he wasn’t going to get a stoic, brooding, scary Sith Master…but were there other kinds? Aye carumba, the galaxy was a stressful mistress, sucking the life right out him. Though eternal optimism remains, a trait that most Sith Masters would find quite annoying, thus is life.

"I'm probably going to regret this..."

 

[Avicus DuSang]

Sitting at the Rusted Rodian, the Sith Master sat at a table, awaiting @[member="Barrett Haskins"]. The Cartel's 'Voice of the Hutts' was held in high regards in Hutt Space. Where most of the Galaxy viewed the man as a coy smuggler, the Hutts viewed him as a good businessman.

That was why his debts didn't turn into a deathmark.

As for Avicus, the Galaxy viewed him as a Sith, but he too was highly regarded as a good businessman with the Hutts. Twenty years ago, he opened up a direct supplyline between Hutt Space and the Coruscantian nobility. A market greedy.for spice and slaves.

His contact made a killing on profits, and grew to be in a pretty comfortable position within the Cartel. So, when the two bumped into one another on Nar Shaddaa, the Sith Master was offered a job. And overnight, he was brought into the Cartel with open arms.

Where the Protectorate saw a liability, the Cartel saw an asset. And Avicus was allowed to conduct business his way. And he was paid in credits, spice, and women to do it. His joining with the
Cartel was mutually beneficial, and certainly good for business.

When he was approached with the job, hesitancy was a very light way to describe his feeling. His duel with the Sith Assassin Kiara Decoix fresh on his mind. He knew full well that there were still those in the Empire who wanted him dead.

However, the Empress wanted to hear their proposal, welcomed it even. Having sat on that throne, and knowing the Empress' reputation, he knew it'd be bad for business to keep her waiting. Business was principal in the Cartel.

Wearing a black silk suit, he had a twi'lek on each arm. The ladies chopped a few lines of spice up. Passing Avicus the straw, two lines were quickly ingested. As the ladies snorted their lines, Avicus leaned back as he lit up a cigarette. Letting the drip run down his throat.

 

[Barrett Haskins]

[SIZE=10pt]Time had started to slip away, behind drinks and his craving for a cigarette. Haskins knew the Sith should have been there, however had had not checked once. He figured if they were supposed to meet the Sith would know who the smuggler was, due to the fact he was probably far more prepared for everything than a drinking, smoking, partying smuggler like Barrett, little did he know.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]A short time after the fifteen minutes were likely up and the song had changed to a dirty beat with a pulsating bassline that shook the inside of his head, mixed with the terrible Corellian Whiskey he was tricked into buying, only heightened his want to get as far away from all of this as possible. He had to laugh though; the Hutts even scammed their own employees...typical. The fiery beverage had started off tasting just fine, but the more he drank the more and more it tasted like soda and water mixed in with the nectar of the Gods he could smell from a barroom away. He couldn't be angry and to be honest he was used to the terrible liquor, the Clockwork issue had stalled production for a long time, Corellia falling under their control. Bars resorted to whatever they could do to make a buck and sell their left over booze. Barrett had once even had 'whiskey' that was half soda, half milk, served in a dark glass. Haskins had to stop thinking about booze; he could go on for hours about the ins and outs of the Corellian Whiskeys aging process and taste secrets.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Getting a little more concerned about his impending doom at the hands of the Hutts or the Empire , Barrett looked around the room and saw the usual suspects, still no Sith Master. If the night had gone as it usually had, each booth was filled with a woman and her business partner for the next ten to twenty minutes, trying to turn a profit and get advertise at the same time via the open powerpoint they were presenting for the patrons. He had been used to it by now, but at first it was a little harsh on him to see such gratuitous nudity so casually displayed in the same place that people ate, but there was a reason the place was secure and popular, each of the drug addicted, often drunk, and usually horny venture capitalists that the Hutt employed to talk business with clients were also in deep with the authorities. A moot point in Hutt space, Hutts were generally seen as the real rulers of the planet no matter what the Republic and Senate may think. It was, however, very profitable to the greedy Hutts so not a lot else mattered. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Perhaps something terrible befell the Sith Master, most likely getting hastled by some thugs because of his obvious evil face and terrible smell, the Sith was clearly in prison or something and Barrett was going to get sold into slavery by the Hutts...whatever, Barrett needed a cigarette. The one peculiar thing about Hutts was that they were generally against smoking in their lavish palaces or even the ugly establishments like Barrett's current dive bar of the week, unless of course you were of a higher rank or rich enough to do whatever you wanted without fear of the Hutts, or least likely you were partaking in a Hookah with the Hutt themself. Barrett had yet to achieve any of those prerequisites. He knew it would be dumb to push his luck with his new promotion, so he got out of his seat and thought about taking his swill, then figured it would be better used as karma for whoever tried to steal it. Knowing with the thirsty booze Rancors that frequented the bar, it would happen faster than he could turn around to look back.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]He took a handful of cautious steps before he paused. It was like a ripple in the Force to Jedi or Sith, or a precognition to clairvoyant, Barrett had an eye for trouble, usually finding him face down in whatever it was he found interesting. He had not even looked at the prostitutes, he cared not to sleep with a woman he paid, however he had been known to let a few dance on him. He was smarter with drugs than with alcohol or women, however, as drunk as he had become and as bummed as he felt about this mission, a little bump could only help things. His emerald eyes shimmered with anticipation as memories of parties and school days back at boarding school teased his mind, when his parents were alive they were very wealthy which resulted in Barrett using drugs to pass his classes, it taught him how to stay sober if you need to and then snap right back into your crushed up dreamland. His eager legs attempted to drunkenly walk as straight as possible, he realized then that the bartender likely put whatever he could find in the bottle of Whiskey and selling it to whoever was stupid enough to try to buy it, on the plus side, Barrett was nice and drunk. He already couldn't feel his mouth or throat so the drip wouldn't taste quite as nasty.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]The anxious frizzy haired smuggler fumbled through his jacket pockets for his money as he approached. He would proposition what Barrett could only assume was the local pimp for his spice, a bump wasn't usually too expensive, and a little break would be nice compared to the mountain of stress the galaxy was trying to insert in his ass. The eternal optimist would be grateful for the backup in this stressful galaxy; maybe he could turn that battlefield raging in his head into a dance floor. Peace, love, unity, respect, after all. It had become today's partygoer's motto, an underground club movement took the galaxy by storm after a large burst of spice hit the mostly closed nightclubs. Once the broken planets and systems got back on their feet, and travel was easy again, spice was shipped out faster than you could imagine, causing a culture shift in the urban youth of the galaxy. It was a time when the spice was plentiful with no real law enforcement to speak of, the good days, innocent youth wasted at the wrong end of a straw. The drug dealer had probably experienced the spice waves, too, likely dancing the night away just as Barrett had so many nights, the galaxy only recently settling down from its disco bloodbath. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Little did either of them likely know they were falling right into the Hutt's set up, the tricky slugs knew both of them were there, in fact the most likely planned the entire thing, giving no power to the idea of losing the Empire's support. They had wanted Barrett to approach the Sith, who they knew would be partaking in the vices that were likely on the house with the dancers that were likely free of charge. Barrett was starting to get too paranoid about this Sith Master issue, realizing no matter how hard he tried it was winning. He took a deep breath and by the time he was at the Sith Lord’s table he had tried to forget entirely about his problems, forget his title, he wanted to forget the stress for a moment before he was suffocated by it. He placed the credit chit on the table; he was willing to pay party prices even for a moment of peace, a time to gather his thoughts without all the emotion. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]"I gotta deal with some scheming Sith Master, any way I could get a bump?" He made sure he didn't seem threatening so he didn't get shot by security, however the demon before him was much more sinsiter than a drug lord. If he had any notion he were talking down to a Sith Master, the Force User fearing Barrett would have likely shat his pants in terror of how fast he would be killed by most Sith for that. The dramatic scene would likely be followed by him falling face first into the drugs and the half-naked aliens flanking Avicus. He was fighting his fight and the Hutts were fighting theirs, he got caught up in it and now he was profiting from it, enough so that he couldn't run, but also enough so that if this was good spice, he could cop a bag and use it to get his mind off of how serious the mission would be, plus who doesn't want to talk to the Empress of the Sith while rolling balls? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]His hungry eyes went from Avicus's euphoric face down to the already lined up spice and back to the drug dealer, for a split second he would stare at the beautiful women but refused to make eye contact incase their pimp was an angry one. He noticed the spice was already crushed, meaning he could have cut it with something, likely a baby laxative to give the euphoric feeling a picture perfect butterfly fluttering warm stomach, causing you to lay back and enjoy your own body for a few hours, then the next day regretting it for thirty minutes. He trusted the Hutts wouldn't poison their own people so it likely wasn't toxic. Either way he was only doing a bump, or so he thought until Avicus would reveal himself as the contact. [/SIZE]

 

[Avicus DuSang]

His datapad vibrated in his pocket. Upon checking it, the Sith Master was notified that Barrett had entered the Rusty Rodian. However, the Hutts failed to give him a picture of the man. They were probably too busy drinking jawa juice and participating in slug orgies.

The mechanics, and overall image, of Hutt mating was, frankly, too much in his current mindset. Turning his attention back to the ladies. They were all enjoying their high. Blue fingertips ran along his body as his own olive fingers smoothed out the tablecloth.

Dropping his glasses down some, he took a drag off of his cigarette. As the drunken stranger laid down some credits, Avicus was prepared to do business. But when the man off-handedly mentioned he was here to meet a Sith, he knew it was his contact.

"I'm not small time, good sir. I do not sell little headchanges. So, we'll call this a sample and if you wish to buy a business worthy quantity, then we'll talk. Ladies..." he said loudly enough to be heard over the music. The twi'leks chopped up two fat lines as the mirror and straw were passed to Barrett.

Avicus rarely cut his spice, but this spice they were all partaking in was cut with a little bit of aspirin. It thinned the blood, causing the drug to take effect quicker then usual. A final drag was taken off of his cigarette before it was snuffed out in a nearby ashtray.

"That's high quality spice, friend. You can't find that percentage of purity in Republic Space. Maybe on Zeltros, but even then you'll be paying five times the cost. One market always flourishes, especially when every other market is crashing. That, my friend, is the vice market.

"Look at the increase of tourism to Zeltros alone. Between pandemics and nanomachines that overtake people, the Galaxy is a messed up place. People want to forget that. Prostitution, slave trade, drug trade, and gambling have all flourished. Because people use their vices to forget."

Lighting up a cigarette, he took a long drag. He nodded to the twi'lek on his right who moved over next to Barrett, her touch carressing the man in his drug and liquor induced state. "Excuse us, ladies. But, we need to clear our heads." Both twi'leks bit their bottom lips as they slinked under the tablecloth to service the two members of the Cartel.

"By the way, the name's Avicus DuSang."

 

[Barrett Haskins]

Whatever the Sith said before and after Barrett took the line of spice were almost forgotten immediately, it had been far too long since the fiery powder had met the Smuggler's nose. It took him back to his days of boarding school on Corellia where he'd do spice knock offs that kept you up for hours just so he could study everything he didn't study earlier that week.

He came back into the picture at Avicus's introduction, kicking and deflating all the fun he was having, Barrett had insulted the man he was buying drugs off of...smart move, Haskins, smart move. His jaw looked akin to dramatic anime art, falling directly to the floor in a drugged up stupor that he could only do one thing about:

Laugh.

It was that or cry for him, he had already angered one Sith Master, one who happened to be his contact. He didn't even know where they were going or what ship they were taking yet, it was turning into a suicide mission, though even the of dying could not stop the annoying energy deep with him that erupted in moments of trauma, leading him to laugh instead of cry.

"You're telling me I'm buying drugs off of a Sith Master who I'm about to take to meet with the Empress." It was all so clear now, the events of what happened before and after the spice hit him, he realized why he thought he hallucinated the Twi'leks! In his surprise he stiffened up his legs which caused the escort's head to hit the table, she was now stuck between a rock and a hard place so to speak, and Barrett didn't really remember why. He apologized to the girl and she didn't even utter a word before trying to go back to business, the Hutts knew how to pick 'em.

The laughter returned yet again, though less sarcastic this time. The drunken Corellian had mixed emotions, the gentleman in him wanted to take the girl and enroll her into rehab, but the Corellian in him wanted to smack her across the face and call her a tramp. "Haha, this is why you don't do spice with strangers!" He couldn't even feel his legs anymore, he couldn't be certan the cause, seeing as there were multiple reasons, some of which he ddn't even remember. Sigh.

 

[Avicus DuSang]

"Not like this, we're not. I'm not about to go in front of the Empress with you like this. Handle your drugs, Mr. Haskins." he said, taking a drag off of his cigarette. As he snuffed it out in the ashtray, he felt the twi'lek's head bounce off of the table.

He erupted in laughter, shaking his head. The conflict within the man made him smile. It reminded him of when he was a young noble. Finding the balance between being a nobleman and a Sith. Meanwhile, handling spice and women that came into his life in great quantities.

"Then let us not be strangers. Instead, let us be friends and business partners." Olive fingers moved through his goatee. The high was magnificent, as was the twi'lek under the table.

Today would be a good day.

 

[Barrett Haskins]

While Avicus spoke his words, it seemed his mere presence and confidence within the Force rubbed off automatically, his charisma bled through even under such...strenuous circumstances. The infectious coils of a Force signature as strong as Avicus's was hard to resist, even by someone who had only the tiniest connection to the Force, shared by a majority of the population. It slapped the hysteria out of him fast, leaving no room for sheep among the wolf pack, assimilate or perish, that was the way of charismatic folk when they knew the extent of their magnetism.

It also gave Barrett a moment to stop caring about whatever rules the damned Hutts put in place about smoking, the pressure really must have gotten to him, he never stopped to read the sign before today, let alone follow some stupid rule. Speedy hands grabbed at the pack of cigarettes smuggled in his shirt pocket, his palms had become sweaty due to his craving, it was torturous watching Avicus puff away. Bewildered eyes bore witness a tragedy like none before, the last cig in a pack! To make it worse, it was at the start of his roll, too! He’d have to get more when they left. Wait, where were they? Oh well, it didn't matter now, Haskins had done a one eighty after he realized the Sith meant no harm. Yet.

The effects of the spice had plateaued by this point, coasting beautifully into the kaleidoscope colored clouds; his body was merely a fleshy shell containing the most amazing feeling in the world, shared only by those attached at the hip. Pun intended. He lit the cigarette, drawing it deep. He exhaled slowly, his world had felt clear now and he had his head on his shoulders, though his brain was still floating off somewhere near infinity it seemed, ideas and emotions flooding him, though not in a bad way, but in the best way.

"Drinks are on me!" He motioned the serving droid over to the table, if he were sitting with the contact the orders were likely to actually serve him instead of giving him crap alcohol that gets him too drunk to leave. “Least I could do since you provided dessert.” Plus he could use another drink, anonymous sex made him nervous ever since he got something, though luckily treatable, back in school. He trusted a Sith wouldn't be stupid enough to get an STD, though he had heard rumors of them doing some kinky stuff, sometimes using lightning on their privates and not just during sex.

"I'll have a double pour of Corellian Whiskey, make sure it's real this time, you cheap skate Hutt droid." He was semi serious, though the droid gave no reply either way. It simply took their orders and scurried off, only to return shortly after.

"To prosperous relations." These Twi'leks would could probably make those Sith happy faster than they could, perhaps they could go in their stead. No, that was the drugged up paranoid Barrett talking, the two of them would do fine before the Empress, especially wth their stresses relieved.

 

[Avicus DuSang]

He seemed to mellow out, which was good. The important thing to remember was when under the effects of any drug, when things got too intense, to remind yourself you were under the effects of a drug. Spice, like any vice, had the potential to take control of one's life.

The secret was to keep control of your vices.

"Brandy. Corellian. Top shelf." Yellow eyes closed as he lit up another cigarette. Taking a long drag, he exhaled the sweet poison from his nostrils. Never once did the Hutts complain about him smoking. But, the Hutts rarely complained about any of his behavior.

As the gentlemens' drinks were brought to the table, Avicus raised his glass. "And to prosporous business." Sipping the drink, he let it roll over his tongue as he broke down the various flavors. Drink it slow, as you would savor a beautiful woman. Or a beautiful kill.

Truth be told, the Sith Lord never worried about STD's. Infections, like cancer, could be felt through the Force. Even in a spice binge, he never forgot a quick scan for infection. Cleanliness was key.

Taking another drag, he exhaled before speaking. "The Plaguebringer is parked not too far from here. She'll take us straight to Dromund Kaas. The Empire's capital is an uninviting mistress, but this meeting has been welcomed by the Empress herself.

More often then not, the will of the Empress is the will of the Galaxy."