[The Underworld] Party At The White Palace

[Samka Derith]

She'd been standing at the shadows this entire time. Watching and waiting. Samka Derith was there to represent the Knights of Ren. To let these Hutts know their invitation to the servants of the Supreme Leader was received and acknowledged. This did not mean she had to indulge in their pleasures. Already she had wordlessly dismissed several slaves, male and female, who had offered their services and turned down the offers of alcohol. She needed to be sober in an environment like this. Then there was the third precious commodity of tonight's entertainment and the one she despised most. If the men and women here wanted to rot their bodies and minds with spice for one evening of ecstasy, they were more than welcome, so long as they did not expect her to partake as well. Nor would any citizen in First Order space be partaking in spice provided by the Hutt Cartel. They valued productive citizens, not crazed junkies. But in spite of their differences... business could be done. They had shared enemies after all and this was why she had agreed to attend. A gesture of willingness on behalf of the Supreme Leader to develop a healthy working relationship in the future.

Her attire for the evening had been chosen carefully, a middle ground of the practical and the formal. This was no pristine grand ball, far from it. A dingy, grimy environment with more people in armour than fancy clothes. So here she was, dressed to reasonably impress. A little make up on the eyes, cheeks and lips to make her look older and a neat long sleeved black dress just a few inches from the ground. Tight leather gloves completed the look, running from her slender finger tips to beneath her the sleeves thus ensuring there was no skin on show anywhere on the girl's body below her neck, standing in contrast to the vast majority of women in attendance who happily paraded their legs and cleavage for attention. Still, clipped around her waste was a belt, her curved lightsaber deliberately clear to see for anyone who happened to look at the girl for long enough and a dark cloak was wrapped around her shoulders.

So she remained in the shadows. Watching and waiting. Should any of the Hutts summon her, she would be glad to grace their presence and hopefully lay the groundwork for a mutually beneficial arrangement but she was there to represent the Knights of Ren not the First Order. Hopefully the Hutts and their collection of scum and villainy understood the difference in what that meant. For now though, she was content to observe what the galactic underworld considered pleasure. It would be an eye opening experience for Sam, she was sure.

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] [member="Adal Armina"]

Tydus bowed again before the Hutts, then he moved up to make his statement clear. "The Shadow Legion wishes to extend our gratitude toward you here, unfortunately must decline your wonderful gift, but in exchange we would like to meet in private when the time arrives, We would like to work together with you when the time arises."

He bowed his head again and turned to look at the Twi'lik. It was rather sickening to see such barbaric behavior, but he wasn't a saint either and these "monsters" were being true to themselves. That is why he worked with criminals more then politicians and soldiers and other people that lied to him. Criminals don't lie, not really. They were always true to themselves and their characters, this made them easier to work with. He still bowed out awaiting the Hutts Decision on where and when to meet. He wanted the Core Worlds for his taking. He knew the smaller gangs would be a problem of their own, and he didnt want to deal with a two front war. Allies make the man stronger, and he wanted the the Legion to be stronger.

As he backed away he looked over his shoulder and saw the women who he had once trained. He decided to keep her away and at a distance.

 

[Causstik Rahn]

Causstik heard the metallic man and shrugged his shoulders, the bureaucrat got what he deserved. He followed him to a table when a Duros entered the room and began flinging spice in the air. Causstik placed a re-breather over his nose. He had nothing against spice, but if Causstik didn't keep his wits about him the voices would take control and that would be a very, very bad thing. He took a seat then began scanning the palace. He eyed a woman sitting in the shadows. I sense a strong connection with the force in that one, do not trifle with her. He saw a man discussing a deal with the hutts, Interesting there's more to that one then meets the eye. He has a power about him. He watched a man with a leather sack at his side approach the bar. The man looked to the table and made a few pointed gestures, A man who revels in torture and blood. Cold hearted and calculated. Causstiks head began to spin and he had to steady himself on the table. Trust, No, One. The voices were becoming to much. To much information at once. The spice was beginning to burn his eyes, he closed them and concentrated on blocking the voices out. He opened his eyes and looked to his new compatriots sitting at the table. He turned to Flannigan and waited for him to speak.

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"], [member="Thraxis"], [member="Cadan Tazi"], [member="Michael Shado"], [member="Nicodemus Thaal"], [member="Tydus Wryeens"], [member="Samka Derith"], [member="Hare"]

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis continued his almost, assault like pattern on the guests, one after another he kicked them out, mainly the same kind, the agricultural people, they carried a bit of money but the Cartel wasn't looking for cash, they needed connections, resources and the sort and couldn't waste their time with so called big shots. At least, that was his excuse, in truth he was livid that they had been stealing all of his booze. After the hours of painstaking time, targeting those who were of little value and removing them from the Hutts folds he took a breather, looking for a spot that seemed like no one was about. Though in this den those spots were far and few between. but wit the right eye, anyone could find a spot. It was normally those people who showed intimidation, waiting and watching. And it seemed he had targeted one such person. [member="Samka Derith"].

Slowly he walked over, a heavy breath pounding though his helmet as he made his way towards her, his steps heavy and almost landing with a thud as he made his approach, looking at her and sizing her up. Hmmm. Must be a forcie. Explains why people are steering clear of her. Otherwise I could count a couple of the men here who would be swooning over her. As he sized her up, his head visibly moving up and down her body he noticed the Saber hilted on her side, "Yep. Definitely a Forcie." he said as he walked towards her, an uncaring motion as he approached, he wasn't phased. Or more or less, he may have drunk enough courage that he could fight a rancor in some fisticuffs. An experience not all that unfamiliar too him already.

With a bottle in hand he presented it too them, a gesture of goodwill, he more or less wanted somewhere he could sit and relax for a bit and a forcie tended to be pretty good deterrents for angry sons who watched their father get kicked out for being sober. "Mind if I take a seat?" a raised brow hidden behind his mask all the while his words spoke with confidence with every syllable.

 

[Michael Shado]

[member="Nicodemus Thaal"] suddenly was on his nerves with a game of who the hell are you, did it matter? Michael assumed he'd never see this man again, nor did he like the look of his suit. Spoke politics, and Michael didn't do politics. He leaned into the table, looking deep into the man's eyes before reasoning he probably wasn't that bad of a dude to know.

"The man who could shoot you...and probably will make money off it...or I could be the man who keeps your shebs from getting shot...if you pay the right price.."

Michael's eyes shifted over to look at the other guests, then back at [member="Flannigan Mcnash"], only to fall back on the man in the suit. His mechanical arm reached over the table to give a handshake.

"Michael, Alor of Clan Shado. Nice to meet you."

 

[Flannigan Mcnash]

The large head sagged sagged to the side, the Hutts mouth opening up at an impressive height fanning his mouth as he yawned, and gestured towards the Twilek with one flabby arm, its sausage like digits pointed towards an arch in a motion that sent the fat vibrating on the bone of his arm. "Meoo dee Duona Bunko che duba." The translator bristled to attention, spitting out the words with vigour and vibrant only the threat of a Hutt's cruelty could warrant. "The great Orga, agrees to your request. And that the slave is to be taken to the arena, if she is not worth a strangers time she is not worth his time." The Twilek, began to let out a high pitched scream as she was taken from her feet by two guards,
kicking and yelling all the while the Hutts let out a heavy
guttural laugh, the three looked to each other and smiled a slugian grin.

"May I also take the time to introduce the representative of the First Order." Unseen spotlights lit the ground where [member="Samka Derith"], stood the room grew silent and heads snapped to attention. "Webai adgapka an bacoke pueanka! Masoi!" Abura spoke up, taking his turn to speak to the guest his long grey tongue lashed out like a whip running the length down his mouth, leaving thick wet flecks of saliva running down his chin. "The great Abura, bids you welcome. It is an honour to have one from the esteemed First Order, here. He also says you look most ravishing."

A couple of Weequay, guards stepped out the shadows held between them a large container. "A gift." and a data pad was slapped into [member="Samka Derith"]'s hands. "This is a cask of our finest spice, and also the offer of receiving more. We have a special brews created by our top chemists able to give strength to warrior, to give energy to tired workers. And loyalty to their suppliers." Abura, gripped down at one of the chains dragging a slave girl towards him, to his great bulwark of pudgy flesh forcing the creature into his arm's all the while talking as if nothing was odd, and nothing was at least in the Hutt court. "Bacoke pueanka Maso." The translator did his job "His excellency also states this is but a small amount, and if you wish to purchase more you need only ask."

---​

​

"Just a humble servant of the Cartel, they call me Mcnash." he replied to [member="Nicodemus Thaal"], he tapped his finger's against the table like metallic rain fall they fell 'TAP' 'TAP' the pressure, the weight cause small pocks of deformation, dents were becoming clear under his hand's strength. "Mandalorians, they certainly have a way with words." he looked between [member="Michael Shado"], than back to [member="Nicodemus Thaal"]. "So tell me about yourself, you have buisness don't you, obviously you look like a man with purpose. A man walks into the Nexu den, with nothing but simple garbs. That makes a man wonder, that makes a man think. What is he up to?"

"Ah." he turned to [member="Lady Kay"]'s representative, he shook his head and rolled his shoulder's in a placating motion. "It is a shame she could not make it, her lively commentary would've have made my evening. Message? Can't an old friend just want to see her, well I guess I have one." and he leaned close towards Enion, he whispered in hushed tones, still far too loud as whispers go. "We're back." and he moved back from the man. "Now enjoy yourself, if she can't be here to enjoy it, live for her."

"Your hired." he said generally, his hand probing out for a glass of thick bubbling liquor he waved it about gesturing [member="Adal Armina"], and [member="Michael Shado"], and [member="Causstik Rahn"], close. "I'll have a job for you later, in fact. Get to know each other, you'll be working together." he searched the room, his eye's scanning the guests as if looking for someone in particular. "You." he pointed towards
[member="Herr Vanderhing"], a narrow needle point finger directed towards him."Come sit, you look like someone who could use a drink."

 

[Hare]

It was a simple enough endeavor to follow the cyborg throughout the party. No one else made their presence quite as open as the hulking machine, and the reactions of nearby guests as it drew near was almost enough to show him his path without even needing to see him. He watched as a gang of people gathered around a table, each one taking seats and beginning their discussions. He desperately wanted to join into their conversation, because he urgently needed to acquaint himself with the Hutts as quickly as possible for the sake of work. It would be both foolish and rude to intrude upon their conversation as they were beginning however, and Hare had no reason to assume he would be welcomed except for the slight notion made by one of the guests when he pulled a chair out, and looked at him.

Instead, Hare stalked around the outer edges of the table, passing by a mere foot from the robotic criminal, and settling himself within a chair a table away. He listened carefully, leaning his cheek into his hand to act as though he was tired and simply resting himself. The voices were audible enough, but the occasional word or phrase was drowned out by yells of exhilarating excitement or the whining noises of mistreated slaves. The cyborg's name was Mcnash, and he worked with the Cartels. The way he described himself as a humble servant nearly made Hare snicker.

Another person stepped towards the table, identifying their reason for attendance as taking the place of someone. There was a brief interval of conversation, but it was far more difficult to hear than the previous one, because a high Byss had decided to lay upon his table and begin moaning as his world became nothing. Hare gently shoved the other guest off of the table, and into the adjacent chair, though the fellow immediately slumped off of the chair, and rolled under the table. Besides the gentle cooing noises that he was making upon discovering what he consistently referred to as "The Underland" he was far more quiet than he had been previously.

He regained his eavesdropping position, immediately hearing an accusatory 'You' and tensing up. Had he been discovered? Would the cyborg be upset that he was snooping, or simply question him for his proximity? It was difficult to tell, but a rapid glance backwards revealed that he was pointing at someone entirely different than himself. That brought a fair amount of relief to Hare, though it did mean that he would have to wait a little longer to see what happened.

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] | [member="Cadan Tazi"] | [member="Thraxis"] | [member="Michael Shado"] | [member="Lady Kay"] | [member="Nicodemus Thaal"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Adal Armina"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Herr Vanderhing"]

 

[Samka Derith]

Most of the assortment of rogues were staying well clear of her. Her rigid posture, lightsaber and denial of the usual goods on service marked her as outsider to their criminal culture. A few lustful glares from drunkards was most interaction she had had until a helmet figure carrying a bottle of alcohol approached her.

She declined the offer with a dismissive hand gesture, "All the more for you. You'll enjoy it more than I." Nonetheless she gestured for [member="Thraxis"] to sit besides her if he so wished. There was an odd scent surrounding the gentleman who had joined her. It was vaguely familiar, like the calming one of a Zeltron yet somehow corrupted, darker.

Sam starred at the three Hutts, chuckling as they sent some screaming Twi'lek slave girl away. The use of slaves by the Hutts was odd to her. "Hutts are asexual, if I'm remembering correctly." She spoke half to herself and half to Thraxis besides her. She didn't much care if the man could give a meaningful input or not, she just wanted to give voice to thoughts which were silent until now. "Even if they weren't it would bizarre for such beings to find sexual pleasure in shapes like ours. So why the chains? The dress code? To humiliate the slaves and draw envy from all of us who find pleasure in the humanoid form. A show of power and absolute dominance. The slugs are smarter than they look. This why they're one of the most influential species in galactic history and why they shall continue to be for the foreseeable future." Taking a glance at the man at her side, she let a thin ghost of a smile cross her lips, "or perhaps I'm wrong and somehow they really do desire to rub their tongue over every inch of the feminine form. I've not asked."

However before the conversation could continue spotlights briefly blinded her and the attention of the crowd drew to her direction. "May I also take the time to introduce the representative of the First Order." Internally she sighed in exasperation and wondered how often the Jedi Order had been mistaken for representatives of their precious Republic during but she showed none of this on the surface. Instead she beamed and walked elegantly before the three Hutts. There she curtsied for them.

"The great Abura, bids you welcome. It is an honour to have one from the esteemed First Order, here. He also says you look most ravishing." At the Hutt's final remark there was a few approving nods and shuffles among the patrons. Never before had the girl been subject to such unbashful lust. It was true she'd deliberately invoked an older appearance for the occasion yet still several systems would list her as underage. Not that it mattered to these elements, it was probably a common kink.

"You flatter me, mighty Abura," she smiled back at the drooling Hutt. "Likewise, it is an honour to be amongst your company." She was good with compliments. Sam had always valued the use of a honeyed tongue.

The gift that followed was more difficult. A crate of spice had found itself in her hands. Still she would not let her smile falter. "Your gift is most appreciated yet I can't help but feel it would be a greater gift on my part to return it." She gently places the crate on the ground by her feet. She would have to tread lightly here, not for her own safety, no, (the Knight of Ren was confident she would be able to escape with her life no matter how much she angered the Hutts). But for the security of any future arrangement between the lawful and the lawless.

"I know the profit you can make on such a fine batch as this, enough to purchase considerable luxury, or military power if that is what you wish, and it is our desire to see our friends in the Hutt Cartel regain their glory." She gestured back to the crate on the floor. "Use it, supply your desperate masses and make them into your strong, loyal servants."

Reaching into her cloak, Sam withdrew a miniature hologram projector. "Just to show how we do not offer empty words, I have a gift from the Knights of Ren." Pressing a button on the side of the device, a holographic figure of a Drexl appeared in her hand. "This vicious, airborne predator is a Drexl. If given enough love and attention, these fine creatures can become loyal beats of war. If beaten and starved they became insane with an unquenchable blood lust, ideal for the most entertaining executions. Wouldn't you agree?" Sam studied the faces of each of the Hutts in turn, she'd been briefed that at least one of them had a passion for dangerous, exotic creatures. "The Knights of Ren have a good supply of these creatures. We have shipped over a dozen eggs and three breeding pairs to the nearest spaceport. They are awaiting your clearance there. Once you approve they are yours. A gesture of goodwill."

The Knight of Ren curtsied once more and shut the holo down, stuffing it back into an underside pocket of her cloak, awaiting a response from the crime lords.

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

 

[Thraxis]

A nod of the head as he took a seat, even more so that she said no to the drink, "Think your the first person to not steal my drinks." he said as he picked himself a seat, his weight quickly giving into gravity as he fell on his posterior, a heavy breath seeping from his lungs, "Well. Technically, you would be the first to actually be given a drink." he said as he raised his hand high, reaching it to his head before the clank of glass and Phriik became audible. A few seconds of silence paused his breath, "Why am I even wearing my helmet?" he inquired aloud before his other hand snuck between the bottom of his helmet, a quick, almost pop like noise radiating as it came of, a potent odor of sweat and booze wrapping around him, an unintended side effect of walking around and getting all his stuff back.

His head fell back, his head tapping onto the wall, followed by a relieved breath. After a few seconds of contemplation he listened to a long winded speech about the Hutts, interjecting every here and now. "Hutts ain't Asexual. Just got the goods from both ends." he retorted, he had seen some Hutts with a Sexual Drive that could rival Zeltros its self.

She wasn't wrong in knowing their inner workings, but before his two sense could be made a blinding light flashed over him, "Echuta..." it seemed that she had made enough ripples to grab their attention. "Echuta poodoo..." he mumbled as he watched the Hutts give off their famous hospitality. Which was rarely ever good, since it tended to mean they expected great things and with their standards, few ever managed to please them.

His brow raised as he looked at the crate presented, a single eye opened as his hand covered the rest, before adjusting to the light. Though he didn't need to last long, Hutts took time as important, and their sights were never everlasting. Though it could seem like such to shorter lived races.
[member="Samka Derith"]

 

[Subject 37]

Slevin slowly moved around the edge of the party, eyes still slowly following along with the guests as they paid homage to the Hutts.

He had often wondered just how the creatures had managed to gain power in the first place. They were synonymous with crime now, no one in the galaxy thought of the Hutts as anything but Crime Lords, yet Slevin wondered where that reputation had originally come from. The Hutt’s weren’t really the most...agile creatures, nor were they all that fearsome. Sure they were large, but their skin was neither armored nor reflective.

A knife would kill a Hutt as easily as it would any humanoid.

So why then had the Hutt’s risen to such heights? Why hadn’t any one of a hundred more mobile, stronger species taken their place? It was an odd little mystery. Perhaps the slugs simply had a head for crime, capable of making better decisions when others failed. He supposed that could have been part of it, though that hardly set them apart from humanoids. There were plenty of his own kind that were clever enough to run syndicates, many of them did.

He frowned for a moment as he watched a woman curtsy to one of the Hutt’s, feeling a bit of bile in his throat at the idea of ever showing deference to the creatures. In truth, perhaps it was simply a matter of willpower. Maybe the Hutt’s had simply proven to be the longest lasting of the Crime Syndicates. Their long lives and ability to breed quickly made them populace, and perhaps that was enough to ascertain dominance when no one else stepped up to the plate.

Slevin frowned slightly, taking a small sip of his drink.

He didn’t question the legitimacy of the Empire’s that the Hutt had built, just their suitability as leaders.

After all, the Hutts never lasted long. Even the most famed among them never ruled for more than a few years, falling to their own hubris or their inability to put aside their ego. He wondered briefly, if these slugs were different. Slevin doubted it, but with this new...spirit of cooperation creeping up within the galaxies Underworld he couldn’t help but muse on the thought.

 

[Jaster Awaud]

Tydus appeared from the shadows behind [member="Slevin Thawne"], he had meet the man once before. Well more from a distance that time, but now was his chance to really talk to the crimial creep. The man and his women [member="Natalia Thawne"] had a rumor spreading about the two of them, and Tydus rather enjoyed it. The rumor was that the two of them escaped from the pits of hell to rule over the criminal underworld, killing all who argued the fact. The idea itself was crazy on its own, but that's why he liked it, these two people appeared from no where, and he meant literally nowhere. Tydus thrived on information, as an info broker it was his life blood. Then these two appeared, like ghost in the night, and seconds after they appeared they build a criminal organization over night. It was one of the core reasons Tydus kept his business in the Core Worlds and kept out of Underworld Space. 'Let the criminals kill themselfs while I profit from the chaos.'

He didn't meant to scare the couple, or force them to hurt him would be a better choice of words, yet he couldn't help himself. As he approached from the shadows he lifted his glass as [member="Samka Derith"], offered her gift. A rather interesting choice, but a splinded one that he regretted not thinking of, "Rather interesting to think these large figured use to rival some of the galaxies strongest storms, to only be brought down by a little infighting, rather delicate creatures after all,"

He shuffled back before they could get a word in and with a bow of the head and his non-drink hand placed under his torso, "Appologies, the names Tydus Wryeen, Specter of the Shadow Legion, it's an honor to meet the famed Thrawne Couple, Appologies if I had interrupted an intimate moment, but I couldn't contain myself to speak to either of you."

Tydus was not very well know in the circles of the criminal underworld, and that's how he liked it. He had sold weapons to many independent planets after the fall of the Sith and Republic. Yet none were traced back to him, not yet anyways. Even the Shadow Legion was still a blip on the screen of a much larger chess board. That was what he enjoyed though, and he wished to continue to play it.

 

[HK-36]

Meanwhile, out in the dunes,

The droid was now simply sitting on the sand, keeping his sentry over the Palace with the binoculars against his visor. It didn't seem like any of the guests he was here for left yet, but the machine was sure getting anxious. The man he summoned to provide aid didn't made an appearance yet, it may mean the droid was going to be left there on his own. Which in turn could mean he had to give up on just snatching all of the targets at once and simply tracking one of them down from the party, probably the more reasonable option. But at the same time, he would sure hate to pass up on opportunity to crash a Hutt party and stir up some chaos among them.

He didn't had any particular opinion towards the Hutts. He disliked their behavior, their criminal syndicates, their use of slaves, but in the end he was willing to work or make alliances with them against greater threats if it came to it. They were pretty low on his list of galactic threats, especially considering their criminal empires did not last too long usually, or spread too wide, simply dying out with each Hutt and disappearing until the Cartel got another competent leader, but usually they had to build up their power and influence from scratch as other factions would usually scramble up what was left in the powerless vacuum.

Still, the droid slightly missed the good old days when instead of being patient he could have just summoned his own personal fleet and bombard the place from orbit, just collect the bounties for their ashes. As he watched the sky, he mused, he did had his frigate and that super-carrier at his disposal again, it was still a possibility.

Putting the binoculars to his visor he scanned over the palace again. Nah, he swore he left those days behind, no more summoning armies or fleets to deal with his problems, just good old shoot-outs, duels, and fisticuffs, he would retire into the care and responsibility-less life of a bounty hunter.

As he looked over the fortress, he wondered just how the Hutts had managed to gain power in the first place. They were synonymous with crime for millenniums now, no one in the galaxy thought of the Hutts as anything but Crime Lords, yet HK tried to recall where that reputation had originally come from. The Hutt’s weren’t really the most agile creatures, nor were they all that fearsome, unlike him, he calculated. Sure they were large, but their skin was not made from Phrik like his, he was aware of its energy-dampening properties, however, perhaps the fact that they could survive a blaster bolt contributed to it, at least until the Galaxy remembered what slugthrowers were again.

A sword or the droid's hands would kill a Hutt as easily as it would any humanoid.

The droid pulled down his binoculars,

"I just realized the red voicebox grill on my face looks like female anatomy parts."

He muttered to himself, loosing his train of calculations.

Pulling out his commlink he would send a couple more messages out into the Galaxy, seeking if he could find a replacement for his reinforcements if it was necessary.

 

[Herr Vanderhing]

Herr Vanderhing limped over to the man pointing at him. His limp looked more like a waddle then anything else. He sat down and said

"I-I-I really don't like to drink"

His voice was shakey, not out of fear though, it was just how his voice was. Most people were intimidated or creeped out by his voice shake and stutter. He was a Neimoidian but he sounded nothing like one, in fact he sounded human. Many people got nervous around him, mostly because he those many people are people who've failed him in some way and he chased them with a crowbar, or a pipe, or some other form of blunt weapon. Though he did pull out a cigar and offered it to the pointer

"So..." He said cigar in mouth "you seemed to be looking for me when you were scanning the room, so I'm sure you know wh-wh-who I am. May I ask who you are?..."

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

 

[Xalus]

Too many people, often those of a lower status, questioned how higher beings came to be in such a position.

It was short and simple: money. The Hutts had lots of it and the galaxy revolved around the number of credits one had in their bank account, the amount of money they were willing to spend on whatever they wanted. It appeared that the Hutts enjoyed safety, so Xalus was in their employ today along with hidden throes of his newly minted droids. They watched and waited, observing patterns and mannerisms just as the hulking Gen'dai did.

Hutts might've been fat, ugly, and entirely incapable of protecting themselves but they had both the wealth and influence to have whatever they wanted. Xalus could hardly argue with that philosophy. So long as he was on their payroll, his loyalty was unshakeable until the job was done.

"Bring me a drink." The mercenary growled at a passing server droid. "Make it fruity."

Hopefully it even had the little umbrella in it.

The armored figure bristled for a moment, relishing in the thought of consuming sweet mortal liquids, but settled down in moments to return to his stalwart position near the Hutt Lord.

[member="HK-36"], [member="Slevin Thawne"], [member="Thraxis"], [member="Samka Derith"], [member="Flannigan Mcnash"], [member="Hare"], [member="Michael Shado"]

 

[Nicodemus Thaal]

"The man who could shoot you...and probably will make money off it...or I could be the man who keeps your shebs from getting shot...if you pay the right price..

Nicodemus glanced at the man, [member="Michael Shado"], as he began speaking. Ah, yes, a mercenary trying to frighten people, likely to further his reputation and make people scared of him. Nicodemus simply stared blankly at him. After he finished, Nicodemus turned back to [member="Flannigan Mcnash"].

"Just a humble servant of the Cartel, they call me Mcnash."

So his earlier predictions were likely correct. He doubted this man was a lackey or typical hired mercenary, like the Mandalorian on his right. He was likely a lieutenant of some sort. Nicodemus watched for a moment as the armored man, Mcnash, started tapping the table, indenting it visibly. A mercenary, or whatever he was, that was obviously strong, visibly well armed, and was not flaunting those facts to try and intimidate others. That was new.

"So tell me about yourself, you have buisness don't you, obviously you look like a man with purpose. A man walks into the Nexu den, with nothing but simple garbs. That makes a man wonder, that makes a man think. What is he up to?"

Nicodemus nodded. "I heard word of this new... organization of yours. Or rather, a new incarnation of an old one. It is good to know who is relevant in the Galaxy. Relevant figures tend to make useful contacts. I came to see if this Cartel will be any different then those in the past; typical cesspools of arrogant mercenaries and foolish spicers led by a few Hutts." He looked around the room for a moment, before going back to focusing on McNash. "It sadly seems that it is more of the same."

 

[Causstik Rahn]

[member="Flannigan Mcnash"], [member="Michael Shado"]

Causstik Rahn watched as a slave was dragged to the pits. Looks fun. He took off his re-breather and contemplated going to see the condition of the Hutt's dueling pits. He needed a distraction, and every kill brought him jagannath points for the score keeper. The cyborg began to speak. "You all have been hired," Causstik nodded his head then looked to the Mandalorian. "Care for a challenge Alor Shado? I believe they have a forest to hunt in, and I do believe at least one of the slaves has become fair game," He made a large toothy smile at the soon to be crisp slave. Just don't burn the forest down too...

 

[Jsc]

Pulling out his commlink he would send a couple more messages out into the Galaxy, seeking if he could find a replacement for his reinforcements if it was necessary.

Impatient as always.

"R2. Stay with the ship. Reserve power and ready for a gunfight. Ya know. Just in case I need a quick ride or this bay gets gun happy again. Hmph. Okay then. I've got a crotch-shaped mouth-breather to find. Ha!"

A woman in a black cloak left the Sriluur starport. Her X-Wing R Custom was a powerful military prototype and she hated leaving the damn thing alone in Hutt space. Still. There wasn't a shadowbroker or infochant in the Outer Rim who knew anything about it. Or, it's owner. And that kind of anonymity you just can't buy. Especially for a Force User.

This shadowy woman rented a skiff using a crude gem currency, then proceeded out into the desert. A long trail of sand was her only mark against this dusty world. Now. As to the mission. Well. Apparently [member="HK-36"] was up to his old tricks ago. Ha. Well enough. I guess this old Peacock could lend an old friend a hand.

For old times sake.

 

[Kay-Larr]

Einon merely nodded with a sly smile before walking away from [member="Flannigan Mcnash"] and company. He took another swig of his drink. Yes, he was certainly going to enjoy himself. It wasn't often that he got to partake in intel gathering, but today was his lucky day. Maybe it could become a change of career for him. Afterall, babysitting Kay was at times a tiresome job.

He took notice of [member="Samka Derith"] as she produced her gifts to the Hutts. How very interesting. Einon had seen her on Commenor before, knew who she was and had heard the stories of the Bespin incident. It was rather fortunate that he wasn't there. The creatures fought on that mining platform sounded like creatures of nightmares.

Einon soon retired to a small table overlooking the room. A man of very little by the way of conversation, he merely observed, as a bodyguard tends to do, only this time he got to do so casually. Sure it might not look as though he was living it up, but he was enjoying himself, and his drink.

 

[HK-36]

[member="Karen Roberts"],

Heard a figure approach and turned on his heel, slinging the rifle off of his shoulder and laying it against his knee at the ready, just in case. He took his dark cloak and wrapped it around himself, the material shimmering briefly before the light bent around him, rendering him invisible as underneath the material he put the binoculars back to his visor.

Having a better look he recognized the being.

HK stood up, the cloak deactivating with another shimmer, cascading behind him in its black veil as he slung the rifle over his shoulder, walking towards Karen, spreading his arms out in a greeting,

"Karen-oscopy!"

He chirped,

"It is good to see you are still around, I was beginning to think I would have to carry out this job by myself."

The machine cocked his head away from his old war buddy from the Protectorate days towards the Hutt Palace,

"As far as I know the targets are all still there, bunch of guys named Graxis, Flannigan, and Thraxis wanted for killing a kid, Thrukk, Nyx, their ring-leader Sempira the Hutt, and some Sith with an unpronounceable name too perhaps, but I was not able to confirm that."

He would look back to Karen,

"All in one palace conveniently enough, problem is, a whole lot of other scum-lickers too. There is something going on in there, and it looks big."

HK handed the binoculars over to Karen,

"I was about to go in there by myself, my plan was to sneak into their security center, see from the camera feeds who actually is there, we might have a contact on the inside. Maybe slice few systems and droids, make a false announcement about me being there to assassinate somebody on the behalf of somebody else at the party. You know how these criminal types are with their cloaks and daggers, I could use it to stir up some chaos while I try to get my targets by themselves and snatch them."

He watched the Palace as he spoke, before looking to Karen again,

"I was going to call in Siobhan to be my back up, but she is a bit busy."

HK looked at the palace again,

"Plus it is pretty much equivalent to just bombarding the place from orbit. I did call in the guy that put up the bounty in the first place, [member="Solan Charr"], another forcer, if anyone would have a stake in seeing those guys come before sweet lady Justice it would be him."

The droid checked his datapad again,

"But he is taking his time it seems."

Looking at Karen HK asked,

"So what do you think? You could sneak in with me or let me do my thing then barged in through their front door, cause some distraction while I hunt down the targets inside."

 

[Cerasi Kent]

Cerasi had entered behind her brother, as silent as usual behind her helmet. He was talking to a man, but he was more machine than man. And a snively looking human that she immediately didn't like. Her brother took off his helmet and she felt her hand tighten into a fist. She didn't like it when her family took their helmet's off around outsiders. It was too personal. She kept her helmet on, remaining standing behind Michael. She didn't speak, just looked around at the room, analyzed everyone, judged them. She would probably grow to hate everyone here, eventually.

[member="Michael Shado"]
[member="Nicodemus Thaal"]
[member="Flannigan Mcnash"]