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Waiter! There's a Hutt in my soup!

Coopers Cooler
Y'toub System - Near Nar Shaddaa

The Keldabe-3 Jango Fett had arrived in the Y'toub system some hours ago, and various shuttles and freighters had come and gone from the vessel, taking trips down to Hutta, or to the Smuggler's moon. Most were just mando'ade off about their own business, taking advantage of the battleship's shakedown cruise out to Hutt space to run personal errands.

Among these hundreds of beings were five Mando'ade with a very different personal errand in mind. Veterans all, they'd been drinking for some days. While partying, a chance look through the HoloNet had turned up a particular bounty on a member of the extended Mando family. This had gotten everyone's attention pretty quickly. The threats, the outrage, the yelling and swearing, in Mando'a, Basic, and several other languages were flowing as freely as the tihaar. Finally, drunk, belligerent, and very offended, the five had decided to take themselves off and take umbrage with the instigator of said bounty.

The being wasn't hard to track down, not exactly being one to hide, known to the Galaxy to own and operate a pleasure palace on Nar Shaddaa. The five Mando'ade had gone home, packed a light lunch and some snacks, and headed off for fun and games with Gorba the shabla Hutt and his goons.

A single MandalArms built Gunship carried the five beings in question from the Jango Fett down to the Smuggler's Moon.
Touching down on a landing pad as close to the Palace's location as they could find, the five readied themselves for the impromptu adventure. Kaine Australis checked his gear and his tools, ensuring everything was green and where it was meant to be. He'd brought some new toys to play with.

Kaine looked around from behind his helmet at the others, as the Gunship hit durasteel and settled down on its landing legs.

Let's go say hello, shall we, vode?

[member="Keira Verd"] [member="Ambrose Mantis"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Lisset Australis"]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

Sal Katarn

The Godsheart

Katarn sat at the back of the "premier" hotel bar, while the rest of the uppity folk lounged around, talking about whatever it was rich folk talked about and generally being full of hot air and high-falutin nonsense.

After Sal took three rounds to the chest on a job for the Hutt, Gorba put him on light duty. Meant he just had to sit around with this old Czerka assault rifle on his lap and keep an eye on the high rollers. Make sure nobody killed them or what not.

A few of them had a sabacc game going, some were pretty good too. They'd enough money in the pool that'd allow any sane man to retire.

'Cept nobody in a Bareesh pleasure palace was entirely sane.

Including Sal.

He sipped on his whiskey, then put it in on the side table and leaned back. He missed talking to Ka. Now all he had were the damn probe droids.

[member="Kaine Australis"]

Julian Valentine

"I don't come cheap."

Corellian District. . .

She awoke with a programmed yawn and stretch. The viewport shimmered and shifted, displaying a false image of a sunny day in a beautiful city. Hiding the smog-choked decaying ecumenopolis of Nar Shadaa. Her computer-mind activated and her cyan eyes turned left and right, calling out in a sweet and tender voice, "Julian, where are you Julian?" Such a voice could melt the hearts of many men. The droid, bearing the resemblance of a cybernetic woman, sat upright in bed, nude but for her underwear.
Her mechanical gaze turned and tried to pinpoint her owner. "I'm going to make breakfast, do you want some, love?" she said and rose, wires detached from her droid-spine where they had recharged her overnight. She walked across the floor with a ghostly grace, hardly making a sound. Julian could not sleep well and often had nightmares, her programming had learnt not to disturb him with sound if he was asleep and that personality trait in the droid carried over into everyday life.
She began to investigate where her owner may be. He walked over to the datapads and Julians cat jumped away and hissed at her. Pets did not like her. They knew she was faking human love, touch, kindness, but that was her programming. She was a pleasure droid. She could not help but love Julian as the cat could not help but hiss at her. It was natural. She stared up at the screens, various bounties were listed and her head turned to the armor rack; empty. "Where are you Julian?" she asked, defeated.

Nar Shaddaa Undercity . . .

In the lowest levels, in the abyssal urban depths of the ecumenopolis that was Nar Shaddaa, it was a rare thing indeed to see sunlight. For the inhabitants of the baroque and gleaming cloud cutters, sky towers and superskytowers—the latter reaching as much as two kilometres high— the sun was something taken for granted, just as were the other comforts of life. The dense pollution had caused a slightly acidic rainfall, and today it was raining. The acrid smog in the air was expected on Nar Shaddaa, in the same way that one expected air to fill one’s lungs with every breath.

But hundreds of stories below the first inhabited floors of the great towers, ziggurats, and minarets, in some places actually on or under the city-planet’s surface, it was another story. Here hundreds of thousands of humans and other species lived and died, sometimes without ever catching as much as a glimpse of the fabled sky. Here the light that filtered through the omnipresent gray inversion layer was wan and pallid. The rain that reached the surface was nearly always acidic, enough so at times to etc tiny channels and grooves into ferrocarbon foundations. It was hard to believe that anything at all could survive in these dismal trenches. Yet even here life, both intelligent and otherwise, had adjusted long ago to the perpetual twilight and structured environment.

At the very bottom of the chasms, in the variegated pulsing of phosphor lights and signs, stone mites, conduit worms, and other scavengers flourished on technological detritus. Duracrete slugs blindly masticated their way through rubble. Hawk-bats built nest near power converters to keep their eggs warm. Armored rats and spider-roaches scuttled and hunted through piles of trash two stories high. And millions of other species of opportunistic and parasitic organisms, from single-celled animalcules all the way up to those self-aware enough to wish they weren’t, doggedly pursued their common quest for survival, little different from the struggles on a thousand different jungle worlds. Down here was where the jetsam of the galaxy, a motley collection of sentients dismissed by those above simply as “the underdwellers,” eked out lives of brutality and despair. It was merely a different kind of jungle, after all.

And where there’s a jungle, there are always those who hunt.


Julian Valentine strode past exhaust vents that coughed out toxic smoke. Spice scum and mind-raddled addicts gathered in corners as they injected their last hits. He was here to hunt. Lysle of the Hydian Way had contracted him to seek out a snitch. When Gorba organized an attack on the Wheel, they had been intercepted by the Hutt Council and all cartels were forced to stand down lest they face annihilation. Lysle believed someone who was close to Gorba had informed the council of this attack. Lysle wanted him dead.
He was en route to the Pleasure Palace to begin his investigation. He'd form a list and go through the names, learning their daily routines, their habits, their friends and enemies. He'd find the rat and he would squash them, but it was a matter of when and where, not if. Dealers and small time thugs came his suspicious glances as he moved past the decrepit souls of the Undercity. He was armed to the teeth and the iconic Hammerhead helm was well known down here.
Neon lights danced ahead, a light at the end of a dark tunnel, but this light was far worse. The Hutt Cartels were apex predators in the criminal underworld, but like the hammerhead sharks that infested the oceans of his homeworld, he too was an apex predator. He closed the distance and a wall loomed before him. A straight building shot up through the smog, and beyond. The local government had built this place centuries ago. Hundreds of elevators with destinations for thousands of floors. From the small five person elevator to lifts that could transport a freighter. The building was immense. This far down there was little foot traffic.
He hailed an elevator and waited for some time. When it pinged there were twelve others on the lift. An assortment of aliens, some were revelers seeking the thrills and highs of the Nar Shaddaa night life, others were of the more suspicious nature. Valentine stepped in and signaled the elevator for 1708. It only took thirty minutes, stopping and starting as some departed and others got in. When he finally left the elevator the lobby floor was sprawling with aliens.
Unlike the Underworld these were all party-goers. Some screamed in excitement but others had grown rowdy from spice and alcohol, brawling in corners and spilling out into the streets. "Julian," a voice as sharp as a knife broke through the crowd, it was Svel Droma, an informant of his and a Red Raven. "Good to see you again," she said and shook hands with him. "Always a pleasure doing business with you, Svel," Julian said and motioned for her to lead the way. "I'll take you to Gorba's but as I said, I want five-percent of your cut once Lysle pays you."
Julian waved her away, "You'll get what you want, you always do," and proceeded to follow her through the crowds. It wasn't hard, there weren't many of his type here. When the revelers saw the guns they parted for him. His powerful mechanical stride pushed aside anyone ignorant of his presence. "Now, the list I asked for," Valentine said, getting straight to business. "I've got it here," Svel said and tossed him a datapad. A list of affiliates of Gorba and those on his payroll. "Someone on that list told the Council of the attack, but I don't know much else."
Valentine scanned the list and made mental notes. "We're almost here," Svel said and stepped through the entrance into the Pleasure Palace. Valentine followed her into the darkness. "I'll talk to the guards, they'll let you into the throne room," Svel said and walked down a side passage. He wasn't sure how long she would be and looked around. A sign indicated a hotel floor. Perhaps he would wait there, start looking for the names on this list. Julian followed the signage and made his way onto the hotel lobby floor. A familiar face was playing guard, Julian checked his name on the list. Sal Katarn. He would start there.

Koda Fett


There was no dispute that the Hutts were the ones that ruled the Galactic Underworld's Asphalt Jungle, not one. They controlled almost all on the Smuggler's Moon, otherwise known as Nar Shaddaa, for they make the law, they enforce it, and just about everything was within their grotesque and greedy palms. Nothing stayed legitimate here, not for long. Those that thrived were the criminals, after all. The Slicers, Smugglers, Mercenaries and Hunters- even the heads of corporations found themselves delving into this cesspit every once and a while, be it a quick deal or a long term investment in something below the table.

Ultimately, there was one thing to know when you threw yourself into Nar Shaddaa's mixing pot, and it's that in the end it all catches up to you; you can keep running, run forever, but it'll always be there when you get tired and stop for a break. It's then that a Bounty Hunter is hot on your tail. Nar Shaddaa was a breeding pool for them, but few ever made it past being in the metaphorical tadpole stage of their career. Be it from death, or finding themselves run out of town by a bigger, badder fish. Koda Fett began here, and it was time he returned 'home', if you will. Initially from Kamino, after all. Though he kept that a secret, being a carbon-copy of another man was one cat he never wanted to let out of the bag. It was his own sense of individuality that he sought. Might just be why that damned helmet of his never came off of his head, at least not around other people.

His booted feet collided with the undercity's duracrete flooring, each step echoing throughout the rather large and silent chamber. Bar himself, all there was were a few underdwellers that adorned themselves in ragged clothing, huddling around a fire that rested in the top portion of an astromech's shell. Not many had use for them down here, but they made do. The T-Shaped visor never strayed from it's path, staring in the direction he intended on moving, and those that caught a glimpse of it themselves lowered their heads. Be it fear, or a lack of energy to bother contending. Much like Valentine, Fett was the apex predator wherever he went- whether or not there was enough room for the two of them was yet to be seen. If not? Well, the small island that represents the lucrative industry of bounty hunting is where Fett stands, and he's more than prepared to bat away any potential contenders with a stick.

A security blade removed itself with the aid of the Hunter's grip, causing the twin doors ahead of him to open with a swoosh. A gust of putrid air flooded inwards, forcing his old, frail kama that had turned into more of a rag and had been positioned on his shoulder to flail in the wind. An elevator was his next stop, straight to the top of this pleasure palace of Gorba's. The slug needed him for something, and he wasn't at liberty to say. The ride up was along, but his elevator mostly remained empty. One soon-to-be customer took one glance at who stood inside before muttering something along the lines of getting the next one. The Mandalorian, if he could even be considered one anymore, didn't bother listening to his rabble.

In time, it all opened up. And he strode inside. Koda knew where to go, he'd been here before. There was a certain hatefulness that the Fett held towards Hutts. He couldn't point out what it was, but he just knew he didn't like them. As much as he despised their palaces and those that frequented them he had to admit, they sure knew how to run an empire and they paid all too well.

Keira Priest

The Iron
Gear in signature

If there was a single long-standing truth about Mandalorians, it was that when you messed with one of them, you messed with all of them. Yes, even if the individual in question was still just a child. Especially so, in this instance.

Keira was part of the small strike-team that had, on impulse, decided to raid the individual responsible for placing the bounty on Mand'alor's daughter. They were going in fast and loud, not that stealth was even on the table. This was about sending a message, and at a venue like the Hutt's palace there were plenty of ways for that to be done. "They'll start shooting the second they see a T-visor headed their way. Should be fun." They would be facing down hired guns, but that was where things got interesting. She'd spent a considerable amount of time in the underworld, but it had been a few years since she'd been on Nar Shaddaa.

As soon as the others departed the gunship she did the same, rifle held at low-ready regardless of the threat implied by having her weapon already drawn. She scanned their surroundings, marking potential escape routes in her HUD and otherwise remaining attentive to what was to come. This was going to be chaotic, and it was going to happen all at once, but in the end it would be worthwhile.

[member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Julian Valentine"] | [member="Sal Katarn"] (Been awhile) | [member="Kaine Australis"]
Loyal Dog. Yalilyr
The hutuun put a bounty on little Adara.
The hutuun put a bounty on Yash’ika’s infant child.

The same child which escaped death by the slim fingers of a dying man’s machinations. I was not drinking to celebrate like the others. I was drinking to eradicate the braincells in my head of my deceased wife Ka’lo. Tihaar and grief mix as well as Mandalorians and a bounty on defenceless children, who ought to have no worries or concerns attached to them outside of when they next get to feed off their mothers.

Karking Silvers and their policy of stalling for hours. I grumble at [member="Kaine Australis"] from deep in my barrel chest, the black beskar’gam adorning this mortal flesh enough of a deterrent for most, who valued their shebs.

“Feth saying ‘hello’. I’m going to cock my leg and leak on the slug.” I bump past Kaine’s shoulder, licking my teeth under my buy’ce at the memory of throwing him on the ground like one of Yasha’s childhood dolls and shaking the ever living daylights out of him until he begged me to bite off his head.

Gray stopped me.

I cannot decide whether Raxis did me a service in keeping the pup-stealing grinning liquor-pickled tactical wunderkind fool alive. But… taking down crime in Nar Shaddaa… shouldn’t have put a bounty out on a baby.

Shouldn’t have threatened Mand’alor the Infernal’s child. My helm remains stationary as Keira talks. “Eh. If they’ve got sense, they’ll stick their barrels in their mouths before we get there.” I check my weapon and grunt another long straining growl.

It feels odd to be bipedal in a place meant for hunting. The company does me just fine.

[member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Keira Verd"] [member="Lisset Australis"] [member="Sal Katarn"] [member="Gorba the Hutt"]

Alkor Centaris

Son of Liberty
"Doubt we're bothering to do this quiet," Alkor lamented. Keira never did things with much subtlety, and Ambrose came prepped for war. Kaine might have gone either way, honestly, but it was going to quickly escalate into a monstrous firefight and the Corellian knew it. That meant defenses around the Hutt would be increased to nearly maximum, and Alkor's chances of getting to him undetected were next to nil. They would face all manner of scum between here and their target, probably well-paid bounty hunters with a reason to fight, as well as payroll bouncers and enforcers. They could definitely had picked a plan better than "kick in the door," but at least they came packing the heat.

"Assuming we're dead set on no civilian casualties," Alkor asked of the others, "if I decide to torch the place with Napalm, will you all look away and pretend you didn't see anything?"

His voice lacked any true hope, but he half longed for one of them to just say "yes." He knew they would not, of course. Yasha would hear of it, and they would never hear the end of it. They might even get punished.

Funny how that worked out.

Still, Alkor was far from above using dirty means to achieve his ends, so he packed out his kit anyway and held some nasty weapons in store for "just in case." They hid out beneath his cloak, obscured from view.

He blinked and flicked his eyes to one side dragging the minimized screen into view, bringing up a publicly available layout of the area. With a quick blink, he shared the info with the others so that they could coordinate, and he moved steadily toward the shadows. The other three were a bit heavier in terms of weaponry, so they could lay down a nasty hail of firepower while Alkor moved to support them from cover.

He utilized a quick burst of thrust from his jetpack, also conveniently beneath the heat-resistant cloth that cradled his form, and quickly ascended to rooftop level. At least, rooftop level of the smallest buildings. There were still much, much larger things to scale, but for now, he was very much out of view, and he kept low.

His cloak would prevent any sort of sensors from detecting him outright, so while the others pressed on at ground level, he began to scout ahead.

"I'll see if I can find us a backdoor," he called across the MBE, "or at least the quickest route to the Hutt."

[member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Keira Verd"] | [member="Ambrose Mantis"] | [member="Lisset Australis"]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Sal Katarn"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Julian Valentine"]

Melvand Zrimmir

Generic Neimoidian #459

Greed drove Zrimmir here, and he could not deny it. Greed to take more and more. Greed to drive Zrimmir in to the arms of criminals to get that extra pay check. There wasn't much difference between Zrimmir and a criminal, only choice of profession. Thats why he was here, in the belly of the beast. [member="Gorba the Hutt"]'s pleasure palace. Lovely place, lots of activities to busy oneself in, but Zrimmir would have to wait. He wouldn't want to indulge himself before meeting the Hutt himself, but in the meantime he would smoke a death stick. One of his favorites really.

As he smoked, he decided to gauge the room, knowing he would be waiting a while before he could see the Hutt. Around the bar there was the usual types, hired guns, solemn lieutenants, general lot of 'drink my trouble away' fellas. Several well endowed Twi'leks no doubt working the lobby for customers, maybe Zrimmir would try that later. Seemed to be a few fish out of water like Zrimmir in the lobby, who perhaps bridged the gap between legitimate and illegitimate for the cartels around here. Zrimmir checked his time piece, he really did wish Gorba would hurry up.

Kat'Lariah Syphex

Don't. Even. Think about it.
It seemed that following [member="Gorba the Hutt"] had become a much more frequent occurrence than the smuggler would've liked to admit. But hey, when she needed work, the slug had never let her down. So she kept coming back. This time however, she wasn't working. The woman was playing sabbacc, with a bottle of tihaar next to her.

"Read 'em and weep boys."

The others at the table certainly did begin to weep, okay, well moan and groan, as the smuggler took the winning hand, and the sizable main pot in the center. At this rate, the smuggler might not need to take another job in a good long while.


The Flesh Of Fallen Angels
Gorba the Hutt's Pleasure Palace

INTERACTING WITH: [member="Gorba The Hutt"], Everyone Else

Nothing like the Smuggler's Moon.

If you asked Ar'ekk if he would ever be back on Nar Shaddaa to work for the infamous Gorba the Hutt again, then he wouldn't believe it. And here he was, with two beautiful Twi'leks at both sides and an almost empty glass of Corellian Ale on his hand.

He was sorrounded by all sorts of scum that ranged from bounty hunters, assassins, slicers, slavers and the like. The man had encountered all sorts of awful individuals but nothing compared to those who worked for the Bareesh Kajidic, like Brutus.

Hardcore people who had nothing to lose and owed their loyalty to the one Hutt, no matter the foe standing in front of them.

A man like Ar'ekk had seen his fair share of mind scarring and nightmare fueled things throughout the years such as cold blooded murders or the annihilation of an innocent village full of women and kids for the greater good of some wicked person with delusions of grandeur.

The screams of a woman playing sabacc woke him up from his peaceful sleep and he groaned because of that, the two half-naked Twi'leks trying to comfort the "Champion of the Kajidii" as he rose from his seat and looked around yawning in a balled fist, grabbing his hands and lower waist in an attempt to drag him down to the couch which he refused.

New faces could be seen scattered throughout the palace, hopefully they were worth the trouble of meeting...


Sal Katarn

Gorba the Hutt's Pleasure Palace​
Godsheart Quarter​
Sal, feet up on the table in the corner of the Godsheart hotel's reception area, kept on watching the high rollers play their games. Somewhat bored, he fiddled with the Czerka assault rifle on his lap, flicking the switch from locked, to semi, to full, and back again. His mind was elswhere, thinking about how long he'd keep taking jobs for the Hutt. Some of the folks he worked with were better than others.

Brutus, the big joweled Majordomo of the Hutt, was actually a nice fella. If a little funny in the head when it came to Hutts and protocol. Far as Sal could tell the Klatooinian had been brainwashed since birth. Both his brother and his father died defending Gorba's dad and Brutus had made it pretty clear that he was fixin' to go out the same way. Called it a "great honor."

Dumb canine.

Death'd find them all, sooner or later. No need to go courting it. But who was he to talk?

Green eyes flicked to the big, carpeted stairs as he saw [member="Arekk"] making his way down. Probably to rustle up some breakfast. Apparently being Gorba's pet Jedi worked up an appetite, what with the women and the spice and the wealth beyond measure and all that.

Katarn wondered who else of Gorba's enforcers would roll into the Godsheart.

The throne room was a few floors above, pretty quiet at the moment. Gorba didn't hold any audiences on taungsdays.

A Neimodian mulled about in the lobby and kept checking his watch. Sal frowned, fingers coiling around the rifle in his lap. Could just be waiting for his prostitute to arrive, or maybe it was something else. Over at a nearby table, a spacer-type looking woman talked some smack as she raked in the winnings from a well played hand.


[member="Melvand Zrimmir"] | [member="Kat'Lariah Syphex"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Ambrose Mantis"] | [member="Keira Verd"] | [member="Julian Valentine"]
Coopers Cooler
Nar Shaddaa
Approaching Gorba's Pleasure Palace

Kaine stepped out of the gunship onto the landing pad and looked around.

Nar Shaddaa. Felt strange this time. Every other visit he'd had some business or other, someone to meet, some deal to be made. He was a bit of an osik magnet, he'd come to accept that, but when you came to a place as full of trouble as the Smuggler's Moon, it wasn't a matter of if, but when it would find you. The strangeness came from being here alongside the vode that had come with him. This time they were the trouble. That didn't feel too bad. It might for whoever they ran across, no doubt there'd be some fancy folks taking the Hutt's credits. There always were.

Flicking his MBE to the squad frequency Kaine spoke to Alkor.

::This is a Death Watch mission. Try not to level any skytowers if you can, but otherwise, don't pull your punches. We want the Hutt. Anyone who gets in the way, gets out of the way or gets turned to ash. We're not here to kriff spiders.::

Cutting the comm he nodded the way to Ambrose.

Come on, the types that take work from the shabla Hutts have 'too stupid to die' tattooed on their heads.

Kaine led the way off the landing pad and towards the Pleasure Palace. Nothing subtle about Kaine's approach, LMG held in both hands, shoulder mount up and tracking, T-visor forward. It didn't take them long to reach the front doors. Kaine stopped to let security get a good look at their visitors. Without moving his head, he scanned the surroundings, looking for weapons emplacements, targeting units, sensors, and anything else his combined optics, radar and sonar systems cound spy out.

If there were surprises, they were as ready as they could be. No one was underestimating the Hutts, or their underlings.

Kaine led the way towards the entrance.

Now to find out just what they were dealing with, the Mando'ad had no doubt their presence would be noted by the Hutt and his organization.

[member="Sal Katarn"] | [member="Melvand Zrimmir"] | [member="Kat'Lariah Syphex"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Ambrose Mantis"] | [member="Keira Verd"] | [member="Julian Valentine"] | [member="Lisset Australis"]

Gorba the Hutt

Smug Slug
Four enormous Houk bruisers stood outside the main entrance to the pleasure palace. Behind them was an open doorway wide enough for five people to stand abreast. The Houks fixed beady eyes on the approaching mandalorians, reaching for their stun batons and blasters, when suddenly the biggest of them stopped, hand going to his earpiece. He squinted at the Mandalorians, then stepped out of their way. The other bruisers did the same.

The flooring turned into red carpet just past the Houks and led further into the skyscraper. Overhead flashed a series of color coded words describing the various levels within the tower. At the pinnacle was the Godsheart quarter. Turbolifts inside would lead up to it.

[member="Kaine Australis"]

Keira Priest

The Iron

A small series of microexpressions marked each of the four guards at the door as the enemy, regardless of whether or not shots had been fired. Once this began everyone and everything on the Hutt's payroll would converge on the group of Mandalorians, and Keira had long since stopped believing in taking chances. It felt more than suspicious that they'd been let by without even a cursory shakedown, and she was sure to let the rest of them know via the MBE, "Unless someone knows something I don't, I didn't think they liked us this much. Eyes up. Vod'ika, you see anything from your position?" It was certainly possible they'd been assumed to be just another squad of mercenaries, but she wasn't going to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Without turning her head she scanned the main floor, matching up the layout with the map her brother had provided and marking potential cover, concealment and escape routes, along with probable troublemakers. Again she spoke across the squad frequency, "How do we want to handle this? I'm all for not opening fire until somebody gives us a reason to, but I don't like the idea of being cornered either. We're sure they didn't see us coming?" Maybe old age was making her paranoid, but she'd rather stay on edge and remain alive than the alternative.

Her forefinger tapped absently on the trigger guard, the safety remaining engaged for the time being. She was acutely aware of where all her weaponry was located on her person, fully prepared for the upcoming conflict. With a shift and blink of her eyes she shared the layout she'd marked with the others. Looking to [member="Kaine Australis"], she inquired through the MBE, "Thoughts?"

[member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Sal Katarn"] | [member="Kat'Lariah Syphex"] | [member="Melvand Zrimmir"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Ambrose Mantis"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Julian Valentine"] | [member="Arekk"]
Loyal Dog. Yalilyr
The Hutt must die. As much as I hate the slick taste of slug slime in my mandibles, [member="Alkor Centaris"]’ approach has promise.

They know we’re here, surely as any half-blind would, seeing a bunch of mandalorians approaching. But the nature of the guards stepping aside... “I don’t like it.”

I grumble, bringing out a small dart gun and firing at all four of the guards. The poison is quick acting, and virile.

How dare they make this easy.

My HUD feed looked at [member="Keira Verd"] and I growl. “Kick it down. No more waiting. I want to feed and these pigeons are in my way. [member="Gorba the Hutt"] promised harm to Adara. He signed their death warrants. Why are we waiting, Australis?”

[member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Sal Katarn"] [member="Arekk"] [member="Julian Valentine"] @Melvand Zrimmer @Kat’laria Syphex

Alkor Centaris

Son of Liberty
"Not going to take this slow," Alkor lamented to himself as he moved across the rooftops toward the casino, crouched low. He ran an initial scan of the area to check for hostiles, while simultaneously looking out for a window or ventilation duct to sneak through. Even if the others smashed their way in, he had an opportunity to take the enemy flank, and he would not waste it now.

"They already see you," Alkor called across the comm, "count on that. The Hutt probably already has Hunters inbound. Get ready for that."

He slinked closer to his destination and pulled the cowl of his cloak overhead, assuring that the scanner baffling fabric would completely cover his armor, then settled in to finish his update. The information crept across his HUD and he ran his tongue across his teeth pensively. There were precious few options once the fighting erupted but to press forward and hope for the best.

Which, the moment [member="Ambrose Mantis"] engaged, was a foregone conclusion.

He picked out a vent about a quarter of the way up the skyscraper and hoofed it, throwing himself into the air at the edge of the nearest building. With one hand, he caught the plating and with his right, he cocked back and then threw a hook. A whine of protest and several mangled bars later, he got his fingers through and tugged at the grating until it finally gave.

"I'm making my own way in" he mentioned in passing as the others prepared to get shot at. "Don't you guys go getting killed."

Julian Valentine

"I don't come cheap."
"Julian, come back down, we aren't getting an audience today," Svel said through his commlink. He thumbed the device and switched it off, gave the hotel lounge a final look and retreated back to the turbolift and took it down to the main lobby. When the doors opened Svel was already waiting for him. He walked towards her and she shook her head, "We were just about to get an audience when something came up, they completely shut me out," Svel said.

Then there was the sound of four heavy thumps by the entrance. Julian recognized the sound, it was a meatbag hitting the ground. He craned his neck, skeptical of what he had heard. He saw a gathering of Mandalorians and at their feet were either dead or unconscious Houk guards. "Geez," Julian exclaimed, "Whats up their arse?" he hiked a thumb over his shoulder towards the group and then walked towards them, intending to walk past them.

As he approached, Svel at his side, Julian said to Svel, "I don't get paid to deal with this shiet." He held out his palm and flexed his fingers and opened them. A short holoprojector displayed a live image of a man in an impeccable suit, his hair cut to a laser precision and his cold gaze fell on Julian. The hologram of Lysle of the Hydian Way looked at the bounty hunter, "What do you have for me, Julian?"

The bounty hunter was passing through the entrance now, intending to brush past the Mandalorians and leave the building. Svel Droma behind him. The pair of Red Ravens gave a passing glance to Keira, not recognizing her. Julians attention drew back to Lysle, "Gorba's busy, we're returning back to Babylon." Lysle made no comment and the feed was cut, Julian closed his hand and moved to walk in-between the Mandalorians, intending to cut a path through their group and walk towards the nearest tram station.
Coopers Cooler
Gorba's Pleasure Palace - Outisde the Entrance

And just like that, with four darts from the Death Watch chief, it was on. The Houks, having clearly been ordered to stand aside, were hardly likely to see the doom coming. Kaine admired Ambrose's lack of subtlety, and understood, he'd suffered losses, hard losses, and the Hutt had made the mistake of targeting children. A perfect outlet for the fury of the Mando'ade. Kaine too, had suffered loss, but for him this was personal, the Hutt had put a bounty on Family. That wasn't going unanswered.

Nice. Kaine muttered to Ambrose at the quick and decisve way he'd dispatched the guards.

You guys go low, i'll go high. When Alkor drops the tower, i'll bring the Hutt to you.

With that, Kaine activated his Boots of Escaping's thruster feature and shot skyward, up to the top of the Pleasure Palase.

Godsheart Quarter - Up top of the Pleasure Palace

On the way up Kaine commed Alkor over the MBE.

::I'm going to the top. Get some demo on the tower and drop it. Let's bring the Hutt down to our level, shall we?::

Flying high into the Nar Shaddaa sky, Ripper out, when he reached a suitable altitude next to the Palace, he blasted himself an entrance and using his boots, entered through the hole in the wall and into the Godsheart Quarter, boots on the deck, subtle as a Rancor at dinnertime.

Guns up, Kaine surveyed the scene, tracking the movements of those in the vicinity using his HUD to distinguish lamb from wolf. There were a lot of wolves up here.

The mando'ad amplified his voice to carry across the area.

I'm here for the Hutt. I suggest you all get clear of this place, it isn't safe just now.

[member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Ambrose Mantis"] [member="Keira Verd"] [member="Lisset Australis"]
[member="Gorba the Hutt"] [member="Julian Valentine"] [member="Koda Fett"] [member="Sal Katarn"] [member="Arekk"] [member="[/COLOR]Kat'Lariah Syphex"]

Koda Fett

It was loud. Too loud. The music pulsated through his figure, feeling the sound-waves thrum into his body and back out once more for the process only to be repeated. He hated that feeling, be sure of that. Fett walked along the outside, his Carbine slung over his shoulder as his left hand's thumb was cradled beneath the strap, almost ready to be slung off at any moment. Fett had his reputation, sure, but any two-bit gangster without a brain was sure to try his luck at taking down the Bounty Hunter. Maybe because he had a bounty of his own resting on his head, or maybe Koda killed his brother or something similar. Fact of the matter is, Fett wasn't a loved man by the common folk. The Hutt's, however? Those slimy slugs adored him, for he got results. They were all that mattered.

Fett ascended up a smaller flight of stairs, one within the Godsheart itself. Gorba required the Mandalorian, and the Mandalorian required payment for whatever job there was on offer. Koda passed a Weequay, a Rodian, an Ithorian, and finally an Iridonian. Each offered him a glance as he didn't give them the time of day. Maybe they lost this job to Fett. So be it.

Now, he waited atop an area that looked over the general room. As if he were the bone, someone was to fetch him soon enough.

[member="Kaine Australis"] - [member="Keira Verd"] - [member="Alkor Centaris"] - [member="Ambrose Mantis"] - [member="Lisset Australis"] - [member="Julian Valentine"] - [member="Gorba the Hutt"] - [member="Sal Katarn"] - [member="Arekk"]

Gorba the Hutt

Smug Slug
And just like that, the Bareesh Kajidic's defense systems went online.

The holocameras above the front gates to the massive skyscraper panned from the four dead Houks to the Mandalorians who killed them. In seconds, images of the Mandalorians at the front gates and their specific armor patterns went out to the Kajidic security forces.

The tramping of boots could be heard in the halls as Vodran, Nikto and Klatooinian retainers mobilized.

Oh, and the blast door at the front gate slammed shut.

Two rotary blaster cannons popped out from the archway and swiveled to point directly at Ambrose and the rest. Their barrels spun up and then began to disgorge a deluge of hot plasma on those below.

Not necessarily a lethal response given the caliber of defenses the intruders were packing, but with Hutts it really is all about making a statement.

[member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Julian Valentine"] | [member="Keira Verd"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Ambrose Mantis"] | [member="Arekk"]