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Davik's accomplishments had been noticed by the lordas and they had made him a full member of the cartel. membership meant he was now treated by the common folk as a King on Nar Shaddaa and a celebrity everywhere else in Hutt space and outside. In the minds of lowly thugs and poor shopkeepers pleasing a member of the cartel meant pleasing the cartel. Davik's status as an enforcer and newly appointed overseer of the Kessel Glitterstim production meant he was now a figure people spoke to in two words. Even his two Gamorrean bodyguards managed the obligatory "Yes, sir." and "No, sir." in Galactic Basic. He was respected, feared even, but he knew that no one would truly do his bidding if he was dressed like a mere smuggler and gunslinger. No, he needed the prestige associated with his rank and there was no better way to show one's position in the cartel than spending credits.
As such Davik was strolling around the black markets of Nar Shaddaa's lower districts accompanied not by Jana Tobik, his teenage slave, but by two bulky axe-wielding Gamorreans. The shop keepers approached him with discounts and flattery only to be pushed back by the huge green snots because the enforcer Davik was only in the market for something very specific. It took him a good twenty minutes before he stood face to face with Malik Nana, chief armor vendor of district eighty-six. Malik was a rough looking Cathar that was one of the few armor vendors that had managed to put his hands on a suit of intact Hapan Battle Armor. When he spotted Davik approaching he bowed low to his knees "Ah mister Lorso, it's a pleasure and an honor to have you visit my little shop in the outskirts of our markets." Malik spoke with a thick accent as he stood straight and bowed again, twice and thrice until he stopped to hold aside the canvass that blocked the entrance in the backroom where the more expensive merchandise was stalled. "Malik, you told me you had a suit of Hapan Battle Armor." Davik said, without much pleasantry in his voice, and ducked slightly in order to enter the backroom. His Gamorrean bodyguards had to put some effort in to get inside and ended up breaking smashing a cabinet, but Malik blamed the incident on himself for placing the cabinet so unconveniently close to the doorway. The Hapan Battle Armor was fitted on a life-sized doll and looked to be in spectacular state, even after the close inspection. "Good" Davik nodded again and grabbed his datapad "How much do I owe you?"
For a moment there, Malik's eyes seemed mischievous, but quickly returned to his servantlike role as he calculated out loud "Normally these suits don't go for anything below 100,000 credits, but for you I'll accept the greatly reduced price of 80,000." he said somewhat afraid that the Cartel Enforcer would spit on him and his shop to further lower the price and drive him into bankruptcy, but Davik seemed unimpressed by the large amount. Davik, after all, wanted to spend credits and everyone to know he was spending big and gossip about his success and newfound status. "Very well, the credits have been transferred. Have it packaged and delivered to my penthouse." he told the Cathar merchant and turned to leave the shop, followed by the Gamorreans wriggling their way through the narrow passageway and afterwards happily pushing away other customers as they continued their long midday stroll of the weapon markets.
Suddenly Davik's new pocket holocommunicator started buzzing and after retrieving it from his pocket in the crowded street, quickly made less crowded by the monstrous effort of the Gamorreans, an image of Mar Kreeta came to live. The Gungan, who used to be Davik's handler in his former days as a bounty hunter, invited him to a Bantha hunting trip on Tatooine. Davik was sceptical about this, as the last meeting Mar Kreeta had arranged was with the Hutt Nor'baal and that had proven to be one big disappointment and a waste of the many credits he had spend on gifts for the Hutt that was trying to grow back an eye-ball. His penthouse, however, did lack good warm rugs he could fell alseep after a spice binge that left enough room for the three or four Twi'lek pleasure slaves that usually satisfied his needs on those cold nights. In order to boast about how he got premium quality hides, he decided to accept the invitation and ended the call with Mar Kreeta. Turning to his Gamorreans he said "You dumb brutes don't happen to know a place where a man can get a good hunting rifle per chance?" and to his surprise one of them nodded fiercely and pointed east "Rodian. Rela Moss. Best on Moon." he said and the other quickly nodded in agreement. "Show me the way then you useless swine" Davik replied as they started walking east.
Rela Moss' shop was filled with hunting trophies with as centerpiece the gigantic tooth of a Krayt Dragon. It's much of a surprise to find out that all those giant creatures were slain by the tiniest Rodian Davik had ever seen, and he's seen some small Rodians in his lifetime. In a surprisingly low voice, Rela showed much less respect for the Cartel and Davik in particular when compared to the intense bowing from the Cathar, saying "Ah, another from the cartel with those big useless dummies as companions". Davik didn't like it, who would, and decided he'd reveal the charitable nature the Rodian must have hidden somewhere. With a quickdraw the Rodian was faced with Davik's C-210 blaster pistol aimed quite literally at his head "take him inside" he told the Gamorreans, who hadn't liked the insult much either but were unsure what the Rodian had implied.
On the way in Davik noticed a belt with gas grenades and as he wasn't wearing a belt at all, he decided to put it around his waist to keep his pants up. The grenades would get in handy at one point or the other he figured as he watched how the Gamorreans put the Rodian down on a chair and gave him a punch on the head for good measure. Rela's cocky attitude had quickly changed to one of intense fear and a pungent smell filled the shop as he loosened his bowels. "please" he begged suddenly, "I'm sorry, I forgot myself" he continued as the tears began running across his cheeks. The Gamorreans gripped him even tighter as they complained in their own native tongue about the smell. Davik managed to ignore it as he breathed through his mouth and let his eyes wander through the merchandise. Primarily droids filled the shop, which explained how the little Rodian managed to hunt all that big game, but in a little corner Davik's eyes did find someone that suited him. A fancy hunting rifle, bit dusty, stood alone no longer as Davik picked it up and checked to see if it was still functioning. "I'll spare your life, this time, Rela Moss. But I'm taking this rifle as a reminder that the next time I hear you've disrespected the cartel, I'll shoot you with it."
As such Davik was strolling around the black markets of Nar Shaddaa's lower districts accompanied not by Jana Tobik, his teenage slave, but by two bulky axe-wielding Gamorreans. The shop keepers approached him with discounts and flattery only to be pushed back by the huge green snots because the enforcer Davik was only in the market for something very specific. It took him a good twenty minutes before he stood face to face with Malik Nana, chief armor vendor of district eighty-six. Malik was a rough looking Cathar that was one of the few armor vendors that had managed to put his hands on a suit of intact Hapan Battle Armor. When he spotted Davik approaching he bowed low to his knees "Ah mister Lorso, it's a pleasure and an honor to have you visit my little shop in the outskirts of our markets." Malik spoke with a thick accent as he stood straight and bowed again, twice and thrice until he stopped to hold aside the canvass that blocked the entrance in the backroom where the more expensive merchandise was stalled. "Malik, you told me you had a suit of Hapan Battle Armor." Davik said, without much pleasantry in his voice, and ducked slightly in order to enter the backroom. His Gamorrean bodyguards had to put some effort in to get inside and ended up breaking smashing a cabinet, but Malik blamed the incident on himself for placing the cabinet so unconveniently close to the doorway. The Hapan Battle Armor was fitted on a life-sized doll and looked to be in spectacular state, even after the close inspection. "Good" Davik nodded again and grabbed his datapad "How much do I owe you?"
For a moment there, Malik's eyes seemed mischievous, but quickly returned to his servantlike role as he calculated out loud "Normally these suits don't go for anything below 100,000 credits, but for you I'll accept the greatly reduced price of 80,000." he said somewhat afraid that the Cartel Enforcer would spit on him and his shop to further lower the price and drive him into bankruptcy, but Davik seemed unimpressed by the large amount. Davik, after all, wanted to spend credits and everyone to know he was spending big and gossip about his success and newfound status. "Very well, the credits have been transferred. Have it packaged and delivered to my penthouse." he told the Cathar merchant and turned to leave the shop, followed by the Gamorreans wriggling their way through the narrow passageway and afterwards happily pushing away other customers as they continued their long midday stroll of the weapon markets.
Suddenly Davik's new pocket holocommunicator started buzzing and after retrieving it from his pocket in the crowded street, quickly made less crowded by the monstrous effort of the Gamorreans, an image of Mar Kreeta came to live. The Gungan, who used to be Davik's handler in his former days as a bounty hunter, invited him to a Bantha hunting trip on Tatooine. Davik was sceptical about this, as the last meeting Mar Kreeta had arranged was with the Hutt Nor'baal and that had proven to be one big disappointment and a waste of the many credits he had spend on gifts for the Hutt that was trying to grow back an eye-ball. His penthouse, however, did lack good warm rugs he could fell alseep after a spice binge that left enough room for the three or four Twi'lek pleasure slaves that usually satisfied his needs on those cold nights. In order to boast about how he got premium quality hides, he decided to accept the invitation and ended the call with Mar Kreeta. Turning to his Gamorreans he said "You dumb brutes don't happen to know a place where a man can get a good hunting rifle per chance?" and to his surprise one of them nodded fiercely and pointed east "Rodian. Rela Moss. Best on Moon." he said and the other quickly nodded in agreement. "Show me the way then you useless swine" Davik replied as they started walking east.
Rela Moss' shop was filled with hunting trophies with as centerpiece the gigantic tooth of a Krayt Dragon. It's much of a surprise to find out that all those giant creatures were slain by the tiniest Rodian Davik had ever seen, and he's seen some small Rodians in his lifetime. In a surprisingly low voice, Rela showed much less respect for the Cartel and Davik in particular when compared to the intense bowing from the Cathar, saying "Ah, another from the cartel with those big useless dummies as companions". Davik didn't like it, who would, and decided he'd reveal the charitable nature the Rodian must have hidden somewhere. With a quickdraw the Rodian was faced with Davik's C-210 blaster pistol aimed quite literally at his head "take him inside" he told the Gamorreans, who hadn't liked the insult much either but were unsure what the Rodian had implied.
On the way in Davik noticed a belt with gas grenades and as he wasn't wearing a belt at all, he decided to put it around his waist to keep his pants up. The grenades would get in handy at one point or the other he figured as he watched how the Gamorreans put the Rodian down on a chair and gave him a punch on the head for good measure. Rela's cocky attitude had quickly changed to one of intense fear and a pungent smell filled the shop as he loosened his bowels. "please" he begged suddenly, "I'm sorry, I forgot myself" he continued as the tears began running across his cheeks. The Gamorreans gripped him even tighter as they complained in their own native tongue about the smell. Davik managed to ignore it as he breathed through his mouth and let his eyes wander through the merchandise. Primarily droids filled the shop, which explained how the little Rodian managed to hunt all that big game, but in a little corner Davik's eyes did find someone that suited him. A fancy hunting rifle, bit dusty, stood alone no longer as Davik picked it up and checked to see if it was still functioning. "I'll spare your life, this time, Rela Moss. But I'm taking this rifle as a reminder that the next time I hear you've disrespected the cartel, I'll shoot you with it."
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