[The Underworld] Party At The White Palace

[Flannigan Mcnash]

OOC

Spoiler

Hey, everyone christening the return of the Cartel, we're launch a social event, everyone who's who is going, don't be left out join. Party, conspire. For more information about the Cartel go here.

Theme

Spoiler

[video][/video]

Spoiler

[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxEXvUGJqu4&list=RDyrOSuY12Rrs&index=2[/video]

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The White Palace, grew out of the of sand, It's high stone walls were a pale white and were choked with the pocked marks of blaster fire, it's large metal door loomed double wide and was sheltered under a wide porch supported by stone pillars. The road was large, sweeping into a wide circles in various dwellings ornate fountains clogged with sand and debri lay before you.

Various guards stood at attention, their eye's searching their hand's on weapons, they looked to be the type looking for an excuse to give police brutality a good try and win the gold medal, they greeted you inside with a wave of the hand, The halls yawned open each meter tiny nooks and small rooms were dusted with thick layers of undisturbed dust it was hard to tell. The inner edge was painted antique cream, and when disturbed the dust layer the paint was flaking underneath; dirt and flaking and finally dents. It was as if it was battered by thousand tiny hammers and abandoned the next, this was the hall leading to the to the main chamber, the meeting room that now housed the criminal elite.


"Bai tytung mah webai adgapka an bacoke pueanka! Masoi biy bu meoo dee Duona Bunko che duba hou an duba tapka! Kanbiusa nobata banpiumeu bai jeceu kae- kanbiusa du mee cuova an sayaye! "

"The great mighty Abura The Hutt, gives welcome to all guests of the white palace, wishing you to sate your hunger and desires, nothing is off limit in these hollowed halls." Three giants slug, lounged on beds of cushions, their every whim, their every desire tending to by a flock of scantily clad slave, their mouth filled to burst with strange and alien delicacies, flecks of saliva running down their enormous jaws, their tongue running the length of their craggy jawline. Just when the thought to put down this debauch scene crosses your mind, you see soldiers, guards, mercenaries all armed and looking for trouble, a hero might make the night more interesting for them and more bloody, after all what is one knight in this tide of scum.

Lavish scenes expanded out, open bars filled to the brim with alcohol there for the taking, piles of spice and narcotics only the mind could conjure, slaves waiting for the touch and caress of someone who didn't quite under the concept of personal space.

---

'THUMP' all angles all sharp inclines and declines wrapped in metal, coated with a garish coat studded in gold trim, whether it was real or cheap imitation was up for debate. "And that's when I tell him!" He stood gathered around a group of sycophant looking strange and looming in his bedazzled coat, a monstrous machine making small talk and telling jokes and people laughing in habit, forced laughter no one was pretending that well not even him, "No that's your wife!" the laughter started if you followed their eyes they looked from one another almost pleading each hungry for a suck on the teat of the rich.

"[member="Thraxis"], get over here!" he called gesturing the manic Zeltron. "Check on Cadan, don't let him die. I have the feeling tonight may be his last if he overdoses on Spice, there's enough here to kill a Krayt Dragon." only the spacer gods knew how much [member="Cadan Tazi"], could handle. That jacked up Duros was the god of drugs.

[member="Lady Kay"]

Spoiler

//You Have Mail//
//Decoding..//
//10%//
//50%.//
//100%..//
//message..//

//Hutt Cartel.//
//Dear Lady Kay, you've been a stalwart defender of the Cartel, from day one. And we thank you, for all your effort don't think we haven't noticed, we haven't. You are formally invited to a party at the White Palace, best wishes and safe travels.//

[Accept]
[Deny]

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis lazed about, he was never the kind to engage in these frivolities. At least, not with the people that seemed to wander about, that singular idea that bedazzled everyone of their eyes. He had better ideas, he had to get the booze out of their hands, something he done with glee, all the while hidden beneath his deathly visage with an apron that read in large bold letters, Respect the Barkeep.

He wandered about, walking to one every here and now, he flaunted himself like a god in their presence, a constant almost pendulous sway with his step as he approached one of the men, a large cowboy hat with a look that just screamed Space Texan written all over his body. "I'm sorry sir, you have to leave now, you are too drunk." he said as his fingers coiled around the mans drink snatching it away as he took of his helmet, quickly swigging whatever was left of the pansies drink.

"Wh... Why I have never..." the man said with an robust, if not a little racist a voice, "Do you know who I am!" he snapped, the fat folds on the man could rival even a Hutts as his hands struggled to reach his belt, pulling itself up with an almost hypnotic flow as his fat folds bounced back and fourth, "I am Senior Lord Robert Smith! I own the Largest Derlac Aquatic farm this side of the Galaxy and the other!" he said with a huff, moving closer, his stature a little taller then him, his fat folds started to press against Thraxis chest, almost feeling as if a Derlac itself was sitting on his chest, "Now if you do not mind manservant! I have business with the Esteemed Moguls now away with you!" a cocky grin warping over his face as he let out a chuckle, a few others around him chuckling too before a couple grunts started to erupt from the crowd.

Two large Gammoreans, their fat folds equaling in mass though supported by large slabs of muscle pulsating along their arms as they sized up toe to toe, their eyes wide with anger as they grabbed the man by his arms, "Blilk, Drang, if you wouldn't mind can you take Senior Lord Robert Smith away." he said before finishing the rest of the drink. Until Flannigan called him. Taking a few quick steps and a shove and a push, before meeting him. A brow raised he walked over to one of the Gammoreans, "Yo, Wobrirc, can ya go make sure Cadan dosen't eat all the spice. We can't have a repeat of last time." he said before eyeing the promising prospects in the room, moving along and starting the cycle again.

 

[Adal Armina]

Delivering items that didn't matter to her always happened, she's sure she has moved millions of credits worth of illegal items and drugs, did it matter no she simply said yes shipped then got paid

This one was no different, except she was attending the party she was delivering for, why because sometimes you had to sit up contracts with others to get a stable flow of cash in and she wanted to see what a hutt party was like, 32 years made you bored and look for excitement

And as she landed she gave orders to her crew and started for the party, she entered to the smell of drugs, alcohol, and the smell of hutts, she moved through the crowd obviously getting looks, however she was looking for the head man...business before pleasure

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

 

[Nicodemus Thaal]

Nicodemus stepped out of his ship outside of the Hutt palace, looking up at the large structure. A friend of his father's, an Anzat that had been a major part of his father's little Spice 'empire', had told him rumors of some great rebirth of the 'Hutt Cartel'. Told him that crime lords, bounty hunters, and essentially anyone important in criminal circles throughout the Galaxy would be there to see what this incarnation of the Hutt Cartel would bring. Of course, Nicodemus was interested. He wasn't interested in joining them or doing buisness with them openly, of course. His company was trying to clear his home planet of it's crime lords. It would be bad for publicity to be seen doing buisness with others. However, if there was to be another incarnation of the Hutt Cartel, and they were actually successful, they could become relevant in the galaxy. And relevant contacts were always helpful to have.

Nicodemus stepped through the main entrance of the White Palace. The guards were watching everyone carefully, scanning people for weapons and the like. He nodded as one of the guards waved for him to head into the main chambers up ahead and obliged. Inside was three large, frankly disgusting Hutts. Nicodemus kept a blank expression on his face while he observed the Hutts for a moment. These onesembodied the stereotypes associated with his species. Huge, fat, covered in slime and crumbs, surrounded in slaves. He guessed these three were the new heads of the Hutt clans. Presumably leaders of the Cartel. Nicodemus glanced at the larger of the three Hutts as he began to speak in Huttese, translated by his protocol droid.

"The great mighty Abura The Hutt, gives welcome to all guests of the white palace, wishing you to sate your hunger and desires, nothing is off limit in these hollowed halls."

The man looked about the room for a few moments. The palace fit the same stereotypes associated with Hutts as the Hutts themselves did. The room was filled with mercenaries, spice, and alchol. He was already beginning to conclude that this Cartel would be no more influencial then the last few incarnations. It was the same. However, it didn't hurt to stay and be sure of that. Nicodemus took a seat at one of the small empty tables.

 

[Kay-Larr]

Kay just stared at the screen that displayed the message. For a moment she didn't move. "Defender of the Cartel?? Are they kidding me??" No doubt it was a trap. After [member="Cadan Tazi"] 's capture and torture on Commenor, the rumours of the Jackals and the Cartel returning were now being realized.

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] said that he would be contacting her at some point and that he knew her well. This message was surely meant to bait her. Afterall, she was their official opposition for a long time. Thousands of slaves were freed from their clutches in various ways. No two missions were the same, which gave her a much higher success rate. No two hired mercs were the same either. For a long time she had a million credit bounty on her head which remained until last year when it was finally cashed in after she was caught and brought in by the best bounty hunters in the business.

And now it came to this. She was being baited. No doubt it was a trap. Afterall, what would they give her for her 'efforts' but pain and torment? But she couldn't outright say no either. It wasn't as though she could just carry on with running Commenor while the Cartel was growing just south of her. Flannigan was probably counting on that.

Kay whipped up a reply:

~Thank you for the invitation, though I must respectfully decline. I may however send a representative in my stead, if that is alright. Though I am sure that our paths will cross soon.~

Her reply was sent off. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. No doubt [member="Thraxis"] had gone there to cure some of his torture lust. Was his deal with James over? If it was then that certainly could pose a problem for her in the future.

So instead she dispatched one of her guards, Einon. The man was more than capable of scoping out just what the Cartel had in store for their special guest. On the way to the White Palace, he studied the files that Kay gave him on the Jackals, Sempra and the Cartel. It could be a suicide mission, but it was all part of his job. One was not hired to be Kay's bodyguard without expecting risks.

Spoiler

 

[Michael Shado]

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] [member="Adal Armina"] [member="Nicodemus Thaal"] [member="Thraxis"]

Dust, and sand blasted Michael's armor as his feet crunched the dirt under his boots. The Mando was making his way to the White Palace, on the planet of the Weequays, after being invited to the Cartel for a permanent role as mercenaries for the Hutts. On his back was a simple sniper, and a blaster pistol on his hip. One hand had a finger-less glove showing skin with armor in Mandalorian designs covering his arm. But his left arm was pure cybernetic. Orange and black plating covered it. Finally, he made it to the entrance of the White Palace, guards halting him.

"What is your business here? Is your name on this list?"

His T-visor stared both of the guards before him, studying both up and down. Finally, a distorted voice came from his helmet.

"Mcnash sent me an invite, Alor of Clan Shado, Michael Shado."

The guard looked down his list, finding the name given, and nodded at the other being with him.

"He's on it. Have fun Mr. Shado, enjoy yourself."

Michael nodded at the men, and walked pass them, and into the White Palace. All around, criminals were drinking it up, and having a party fit for scum of the galaxy. He only hoped that this Mcnash understood that Clan Shado was not like these typical blaster jockies, no Mando was like these aruetiise.

The place was big, and the alor was not sure specifically where he was supposed to go, the message didnt give him that much. So he just walked until either someone recognized him, or he went to the wrong area and made a big fuss.

 

[Jaster Awaud]

Spoiler

[member="Lady Kay"] [member="Nicodemus Thaal"] [member="Adal Armina"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

Dust was strong as the door to the front of the palace opened, a single fat green species stood in the doorway. The Gammorean stepped aside, a blank stair held in his eyes, and as he moved out of the way a man who stood in front of him. The man stood there wearing a black suit and a specialty designed mask, as he stepped forward two men wearing robes walked closely behind him. The wind dies as they walked inside, as if the storm followed them to only assist them in hiding from peering eyes.

The man leading the small group of man was here on business, though the party did not bother him either. This was Tydus Wryeen, Intergalactic Arms Dealer and leader of the Shadow Legion, a secrete society of spies and assassins with their own agenda. He was here to draw a line with the newly reborn Hutt Cartel, work with him, or be steamrolled. Of course these would be said in much nicer words. He did wear his special Robe just for this meeting, and he also disarmed his Dia Sha-Dow guards. This made them no less deadly, but it made those around them less on guard.

He walked down to the meeting area to where the people were greeting a member of the Huttian Council, the new leadership of the Cartel. He did not bow before the giant slug before him, but he lowered his head and placed his right hand on his chest as a sign of respect, "Greeting Lord Abura the Hutt, I bring warm greetings form the Shadow Legion, we wish you nothing but good will in this time of great celebration, as a sign of good faith and future dealings we wish to offer you a gift, if you may."

Tydus reached inside his coat, and slowly brought out a Datapad, showing the guards that it wasn't a threat. He then handed it to the protocol droid who then would hand it to the Hutt. The Datapad showed a few create load of Force Breaker Grenades. Tydus then again bowed his head and stepped back so others could great the massive slug.

 

[Causstik Rahn]

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"], [member="Thraxis"]

Causstik Rahn landed his ship on the planet Sriluur, he had come here to make money. It was a small trek, but he soon arrived at one of the Hutt palace's side entrances. Causstik found his way barred by two Gamorreans. They were pudgy, muscular, and annoying. Causstik couldn't understand a thing they were saying. Then he heard the all too familiar voice in his head. Kill them. Causstik lit his flamethrowers and began hosing the Gamorreans down with liquid fire. There squeals were delightful and the smell of pork delectable. He bent over one of the burning corpses and acquired a slightly burnt key card, and maybe a small slice of roast.

He entered the palace and heard foot steps approaching from a nearby hall. Causstik cracked his neck and readied himself. Three men turned the corner and Causstik tackled the closest one. "Oh my lord! Don't kill me, i'm a guest!" Fool. "Oh, uh.. Sorry. We've had reports of intruders," Causstik hissed as friendly as a Trandoshan can manage. Causstik stood up, then steadied the human as he did likewise. Being seven foot, Causstik was worried he actually hurt the man. "I'll have you know I am the prominent governor of Onderon!" The man said vehemently, meanwhile his body guards began puffing there chest out like apes. The aristocrat was fine, but he droned on about his station and the injuries he didn't sustain for some time.

Kill him. Causstik grabbed the small man's head with one of his huge clawed hands and snapped his neck. He proceeded to use the duly departed minister's body as a shield while he charged his former guards. He barreled into them and crushed skulls accordingly. Causstik stood covered in blood and began making his way to the main hall once more. Do you think they'll notice the blood? Yes.

 

[Flannigan Mcnash]

The three Hutts, regarded [member="Tydus Wryeens"] with large open eye's, the slight film of slime giving it a reflective quality, they inclined their heads slightly more an issue of weight than a sign of respect, Orga The Hutt first to speak bristled to attention his jowls vibrated with the motion of speech. "kanbiusa du mee cuova an sayaye!" He turned to his fellow Hutts, each nodded in turn and clapped their hands together, and the tray of explosives were taken away.

"The mighty Orga, says welcome and bays you thanks for your gifts. He'd know more about your Legion of Shadow. And returns in kind a gift."A female Twilik wrapped in more chain than clothes, was lead out by a bourish gamorrean, his shoulder as wide as his belly was fat 'oink'. "You may partake in the slave for the night, if she interests you Orga, will speak to you of a price."

---​

​

"Its been nice chatting, but I have to mingle." and he broke away from the group, his coat lashing out with tattered threads and sharp buttons as he turned on his pronged feet and stalked down the hall. "You must be the Mando, I've heard about. Come follow me." he gestured towards [member="Michael Shado"], before turning to look at the room at large, his cybernetic eye's drew in an eyeful expanded and than turned to narrow slits of light. "You." he said to [member="Causstik Rahn"]. "These are guests, you are killing them. I suggest you stop before I remove your name from the list, those not on the list will be ejected. In pieces." he stated towards the Trandoshan, a simple fact not a threat, no overturn in his voice to say 'I will crush you' just a statement. "Come with me if you want to live."

"Ah." he said sitting down at [member="Nicodemus Thaal"]'s table, his heavy form collapsing into the seat with an audible wheeze from the furniture. "You don't look like my ordinary guest." he ran his finger's down the table edge the pointed digits creating grooves in the tables surface. "The rest of you sit. Nice suit by the way, you have to tell me where you got it from?" He was playing the social equivalent of the roomba, sweeping up guests and piling them up for a nice business chat. "You!" he pointed a steely finger towards [member="Adal Armina"]. "Get us drinks, and tell [member="Thraxis"], he's the pink one. To stop stealing from my wine wrack, I know its him. I don't have proof yet, but I know!"

 

[Cadan Tazi]

He had been told of this event for a long time coming. The Jackals were to help breathe new life into the Hutt Cartel, as they did once before when the Great Sempra was in charge. It seem that was something The Jackals were good at, helping crimal factions start up, although now they would be the ones steering the spirit ship.

Cadan was sprawled out on the floor, his thighty whiteys luckily covering pieces no-one would want to see, unless they were paid high enough to. He laid with a needle in his arm, his wallet missing from his coat aswell as the Twi'lek he had hired for the night. All in all it was a pretty good night for the Duros. He was awoken by the heavy breathing of one of the Gamorian guards, Wobrirc his name was.

"Aye? Whatta you want?" Cadan managed the slurr out as he pull the syringe from his arm, his head still spinning from all the spice the night before. Slowly he rose to his feet and threw on his brown coat. Wobrirc began to shake his head, why was he the one that always had to scrape this mess known as Cadan off the floor. "Fancy clothes." Wobrirc spat out, obviously he had better things to do than baby sit a spiced out spice lord.

Cadan began to throw on some semi-decent clothes that were topped with his trench coat. "Go on then. Take me to Flanno." Cadan began to walk ahead, twisting and turning his way through the palace before he burst his way through the doors entering the main hall. "Spice for everyone!" Cadan shouted as he threw a bag of spice into the air, the contents gushing from the back dusting things in the white powder. Cadan nudged Wobriric and whispered. "I know 'ow to make an entrance aye."

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] [member="Causstik Rahn"] [member="Michael Shado"] [member="Lady Kay"] [member="Nicodemus Thaal"] [member="Adal Armina"]

 

[Adal Armina]

She spun around as someone demanded her to fetch drink and tell some fellow to stop stealing wine, when she was turned fully and looked to [member="Flannigan Mcnash"] and gave a smirk as she stole a drink and stepped forward* I'll assume your the head guy around here no?

She said and took a sip of the drink...bitter tasting" then tell me before I fetch us more to drink, care to speak a little, I promise it'll bear fruits and even give you a few things you might need like say...a business that smuggles? Or well a transportation company should just say?

Either way she went and got some drinks before telling [member="Thraxis"] * hey boss guy over there...at least I think he is, said to stop stealing the wine* she said and went back to [member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

[member="Cadan Tazi"][member="Causstik Rahn"][member="Michael Shado"]

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis had started to make headway. The people who clung to the claims of prominence being removed with haste, only to snatch from their clutches their booze. He remembered the days when the cartel had turned to a faded light, all this booze that they drank, it was his collectively. He had ordered the Gammoreans to go and get the finest booze they could just to sate his own appetite. But now he looked around, each bottle wasted on these clinging failures, I am the head manufacturer for Janitorial supplies, one would say, a kick in the ass, he got in return for daring to suckle on his booze.

As he walked around someone finally approached, it seemed that he was a passing oddity in the room, everyone flocked to either a Hutt or too the Diabolical droid commander, a feeling he had all but become accustomed to. Which he assumed the same was for Cadan, it was no wonder they drank through all the booze and snorted all the spice at these places, they were always dashed to the side. Which is why when someone finally approached him, an almost glisten in his eye formed, only to be told Flannigan was barking orders at him.

Slowly he made his approach, pausing a few seconds to take note, Okay, whats he dealing with today. Pfffttt.... Some Mando, normally is one, Trandoshan, yeah same thing there, wonder how much hell he has raised so far.... Oh, Flannigan is making mingle with a Business man. That ain't a common occurrence. He thought to himself before making his approach, moving behind an empty chair he looked around the group, behind his mask he looked down on them, the tension only lifted by the Apron that still simply read, Respect the Barkeep.

"Flannigan. I will only say this one more time." he paused for a second, his head slowly rolling around towards him, "I am not... I repeat. Am not Stealing your wine." his teeth gritted against each other, his tongue making an audible smacks against his lips before continuing on, "However. You are stealing my booze. By giving it out to strangers." he continued with venom lacing his words. It was true, every single drop of alcohol served here was his. But only because he had to buy back all the booze he drank, which turned out to be everything after months of no one resupplying the alcohol other then himself.

After he finished he didn't bother with whatever fancy words Flannigan had to say. It was likely to be some dribble, fancy words that meant more then it seemed. He always was one to lace his words with cryptic meanings sown between each and every syllable he muttered.

As he walked away to get back to the closest thing to productive that seemed to be happening, his vision became blurred, specks of white blurring his vision as he stood still, his motor controls weren't phased, then with a wipe of the hand he realized, Cadan was tossing around Spice again like it was candy. "Oh great. Now everyone is gonna be higher then a kite. And drinking my booze. Simply.... Wonderful." he said, a tear rolling down his cheek before continuing on with his business. Which mainly consisted of taking back his booze that Flannigan gave out so freely.
[member="Adal Armina"] [member="Cadan Tazi"] [member="Nicodemus Thaal"]
[member="Michael Shado"] [member="Tydus Wryeens"] [member="Causstik Rahn"]

 

[Hare]

The wild dunes opened fire with the blast of sandy projectiles which battered against the faint armor of his cloak. Though the results of the attack were far less lethal than most, the sounds of wind bitterly crashing against his own body seemed to relate well to those of battle. The Palace stood out from the absent nothingness of the dunes, and his eyes soon picked up on the many defenses that seemed to surround the grand structure. The mask laid gently against his face, protecting it from much of the blasting sand, but as he neared the gate, it was carefully removed and placed within a small pouch specifically held for that purpose.

The entryway into the Palace seemed to have been held open for the party, but the swarms of guardsmen were testament to the fact that it was still heavily defended. If anyone were going to try some manner of violent action against the newly reconciled Hutt Lords, they would need to expect heavy losses. Thankfully, the recently escaped criminal had no intention of fighting the Hutt Lords. In fact, he hoped that they would provide some manner of employment to get him back on his feet. He had nothing to his name except for a dozen credits, the mask he had stolen from prison before he escaped, and the clothes layered upon his back.

His name had used to carry at least some manner of weight with those who knew him, and he remembered the days when criminal gangs would pay tribute to him lest they be annihilated. Those had been splendid days, but now he was playing in a wholly different league. These criminals were connected far better than the street thugs of Coruscant, and they had the backing and firepower to keep what they wanted. Harrison didn't want to spend more time simply thrashing out a new living upon Coruscant, and he certainly didn't want to fight his way back to the top of a tiny sector of nothingness. That meant working with the top dogs, and chewing what meat was thrown to the rest of the pack.

The Gamorrean that greeted him regarded him with little interest, apparently far more distracted with watching a spaced out druggie. The man smelled so intensely of spice that Hare held his breath as he passed so as to avoid contracting some manner of disease. He had little experience with spice or any of the other major narcotics of the galaxy, but there was no need to take chances. The great slug lords sitting upon their thrones of slime were easy enough to notice, and he watched for a moment as a number of slaves fed them various delicacies that made his stomach churn simply by viewing them.

A mechanical contraption caught his attention, and he watched as it called together a small band of individuals to discuss things with them. It was clearly a cyborg, but he could only imagine what sort of damage it had to have sustained to exchange what appeared to be almost all of its' body. They walked down a nearby hallway, and were lost from his sight almost immediately. He leaned over to his side, his voice whispering into the ear of a nearby waitress.
"Who's the 'borg?"
She seemed somewhat startled for a brief instance, but that confusion was quickly alleviated when she saw it was simply a guest.
"One of the guests, I think he helps run things a bit."
"Run things?"
"Security, I guess." She shrugged.
He nodded his thanks, and began to stalk down the hallway. It seemed as though he had found someone he ought to meet.

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] | [member="Thraxis"] | [member="Cadan Tazi"] | [member="Adal Armina"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Tydus Wryeens"] | [member="Michael Shado"]

 

[Subject 37]

Oddly enough, he felt in his element here.

There were few things in the galaxy that could actually excite Slevin, oddly enough a party thrown by Hutts was one of them. It wasn’t the hosts of course, it wasn’t their guests, it wasn’t even their slaves. None of that really interested him at all actually. To him the Hutts were just like any other gangsters, their guests were just numb-skulled idiots, and their slaves were often disgusting enough that he wouldn’t want to touch them.

So why then did he find this even so enthralling? It was for the potential. The potential that these things had for blood and violence, for conquest, for gains of power. That was what interested him here, and the way that he carried himself showed that. He wandered between the large double doors, his beloved, [member="Natalia Thawne"] hanging off of his arm. His suit was nicely tailored, cut to perfection, his shoulders were broad and upright, and his eyes watched everyone in the room as though he were a hawk.

He didn’t know any of these people, but that didn’t matter.

The Hutt’s had always held sway within the galaxies underbelly. They had enough wealth and power to make a significant dent in anyone’s bottom line, but the times...the times they were a changing.

Slevin smiled slightly as a woman passed him by, his eyes settling on her for half a second before they quickly returned to scanning the room. He saw the slugs sitting on one end of the hall, their great immobile forms bringing a ring of disgust to his stomach. Perhaps some found the creatures tolerable, but for him...well, what was a creature that couldn’t even defend itself?

Nothing.

 

[Michael Shado]

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] quickly introduced himself, then asked to be followed, so Michael did, and in doing so, he realized that this was his element again. Being back in the underworld, taking on jobs for crime lords. He smirked under the helmet. [member="Adal Armina"] on the other hand, when asked to get drinks was way too talkative to him, too eager to please, he already saw Mcnash pushing Michael onto this woman in a smuggling job just to make sure she didn't talk herself into trouble, though the idea kind of amused him. It was [member="Thraxis"] that gave him a bad vibe. Something...primal and truly evil seem to just roll of this man. It was the look in his eyes, and the way his mouth moved. He was upset about about the others drinking his booze? The Mandalorian finally removed his helmet, his piercing blue eyes now for everyone to see, including his scars from the last job that nearly put him out of commission. He took a drink, smelled it, slipped his finger into it, and his suit registered it safe to drink.

Taking a few sips from it as his eyes fell on [member="Slevin Thawne"], something about him told Michael that his man held some form of authority here, and a lot of it. [member="Hare"] was coming up to, to which Michael felt it best to just flag the man down, and offer the seat next to him for the man in a...what the heck was that on his face? He shrugged it off, and took another sip.

"Well...drinks and a show..."

Michael made the comment more to himself than to the others.

 

[Herr Vanderhing]

Herr Vanderhing limped into the palace somewhat late he was followed by his right hand Genf Orkay and an entourage of Neimoidians and battle droid bodyguards. Vanderhing didn't really want to attend this party but he had to respect his fellow crime lords. Though he felt that the cartel was more like a gang due to its somewhat transparency and the Vanderhing crime family was more like a mafia due to its secrecy. He saw many thugs and bosses. Some capos, mob soldiers, bounty hunters, slaves, and many associates. He limped cane in hand onward through the party. He didn't enjoy being here, he mostly wanted to merely drop off his gift and leave but he knew that it would show a lack of respect towards the Hutts who were quite honestly larger bosses then him. Both literal and figurative. He didn't really want to talk to anyone, his entourage of Neimoidians started to mingle but Vanderhing just stood in the room with Genf Orkay to his right and many battle droids to his back.

 

[Kay-Larr]

Einon arrived some time later. Was he on the guest list? No. But his charge was. As he approached the guards he was checked for weapons, manhandled actually, but the Commenori just held his composure. "Madam President Kay asked me to go in her place. Her schedule is quite full." Joke or not, not many knew of Kay's special invite, so he was allowed in.

He let his eyes adjust as he stepped inside, not used to the lighting and the temperatures of the desert world. Everyone seemed to have the same sweaty stink. Or maybe that was just the booze and vomit. Einon recognized some from his files. He spotted [member="Cadan Tazi"] , the spice King that was held on the grounds of trying to smuggle slaves and spice through Commenor. It was unfortunate that his stay wasn't very long before [member="Flannigan Mcnash"] attacked Chasin City to get him back. And his charge was an idiot to let him go. But, he followed his orders.

Einon spotted someone else that wasn't on his list of Jackals or Cartel members, but it was a man that he knew, [member="Tydus Wryeens"] . That was interesting. Though he knew Tydus to be more than he appeared. Still, it was noteworthy.

His eyes continued to scan through the crowd. There was [member="Thraxis"] going on about his precious booze. At least it was better than spice. Einon approached the bar and ordered an ale. In this kind of place he would need the drink just to relax him. He wasn't nervous in the slightest. On the contrary he wanted to punch the faces of a good number of individuals here. And strangle a Hutt or two. But that wasn't his job today.

With his drink in hand, Einon made his way further into the party to observe and listen.

 

[HK-36]

Meanwhile, among the dunes overlooking el Palacio de Hutto Grande,

a lone figure stood silently with a pair of macrobinoculars pressed to the visor of his helmet as wind and sand slapped against his dark cloak and flapped it like wings of a lizardhawk. A rifle hanged limply slung off of his back, plastering parts of the material to the armored chest plate he was clad in. The being scanned the walls and entrance to the palace, counting the guards, taking note of their armor and armament, checking for any visible external security like cameras, alarms, or turrets. He wore an old suit of Protectorate armor, remnant of a forgotten regime much like the being himself.

Slowly pulling the binoculars away from his face the being pulled out his commlink, checking the communicator for any messages. He watched the palace for a while now, ever since he got a lead from one of the information brokers he still could get a hold about a rather big Hutt meeting. Whatever was going on seemed important within their Cartel, important enough to bait out a few targets he was tracking for bounties, all in one place, convenient enough. He saw his targets go inside, confirming their presence, he also saw many others landing as well, along with additional security, not the perfect situation. For once he had to refrain from just going into the situation by himself and storming the palace to drag his targets into captivity. So he called in backup, a bit of reinforcement from the few people he was still able to get a hold of and one he knew for a fact had a stake in bringing their targets to justice.

But his reinforcements were not there yet, so he had to wait and conduct surveillance, make sure none of his targets left the party too early. So, putting his binoculars up again he watched, and waited.

Finally he would brought his fist up and shake it towards the Palace,

"Oooooooh, I want those bounties so bad."

[member="Solan Charr"]

 

[Nicodemus Thaal]

Nicodemus looked about at the various guests rapidly flooding into the Hutt party. It was your typical assortment. Several spice-addicted delinquents, a few dozen mercenaries, a Mandalorian or two, some Gammorean guards. Nothing new, nothing that made this version of the Hutt Cartel stand out. The man watched as a Transdoshan started mauling another guest, and was quickly yelled at by one of the Hutts. Yes, a typical gathering of criminals. It seems that Hutt gatherings lived up to many stereotypes.

Nicodemus watched as a man suited in armor, though certainly a different style then the Mandalorians who were roaming around, walked around the gathering, gathering people together. Likely a representitive or high ranking member of the Hutt's group. Perhaps a majordomo or lieutenant. He continued to watch the armored man, until he approached the table Nicodemus had claimed and promptly sat.

"Ah." Nicodemus watched the man as he sat and spoke, the chair groaning under his armor's weight. "You don't look like my ordinary guest." Nicodemus glanced around the room for a brief moment. That was indeed true. He wasn't wearing armor, toting weapons, taking spice, or trying to kill everyone he saw. It was actually quite entertaining that if you didn't do those things you didn't qualify as an 'ordinary guest'. "I suppose I do not."

Nicodemus straightened in his chair, watching as the armored man beckoned over others to sit. "And who are you?" Nicodemus directed his question to the armored man.

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] | @everyone else at the table

 

[Kay-Larr]

A swig of ale was taken as he noted some of the other more prominent strangers arrive. Each had their own style and arrogance around them. It was hard for him to day if this was normal or not as the man had hardly left Commenor. But he couldn't very well have Kay walk in here, the Palace of her enemies, and risk being captured or killed. Einon was very glad that she didn't decide to argue the point this time. Everyone knew how stubborn she could be.

With his ale in hand he approached [member="Flannigan Mcnash"] , and tilted his head to the side a bit as he looked the man that was now more machine than anything else. This was the guy that disguised himself as an ice cream man to escape Commenor? It was hard to believe that anyone would fall for it. But the kooky idea had worked. "Flannigan...Madam President Kay sends her apologies for not being able to make it to your little....party. She sent me in her place. So whatever message you wanted to give her, trust me, she'll get it."