Door Number Three

[Butler]

"Gentlemen, I'm in a bit of a quandary..."

Down the black back alley behind Lead Cellar, one of the many Corellian style pubs on Nar Shaddaa on the less favorable side of the entertainment district, one single amber lamp buzzed a spotlight over the white suited, white grease-slicked hair, white gloved and white slippered, white skinned Lucifer of the Cartel. Four men surrounded him. He tucked the folded red sash deeper into his breast pocket as he addressed the thugs, likely even on the Cartel payroll at some point in their miserable lives.

"See your heads would look so gorgeous impaled on spikes within bronze picture frames upon my mantle over the burning fire. But my memory card is ...completely full."

Lucifer framed them within his thumbs and index fingers, squinting an eye through them, before retrieving a small datapad between one of the same thumbs and index fingers with a lackadaisical shake of the device at them. Yet all four men just looked at each other like hungry hyenas as their feet continued inching in towards him.

"Ugh..."

Lucifer sighed with a tinge of affected growling as he looked around for anything resembling spikes. He hadn't the time for this interruption. He'd only been waiting nine minutes and these fools failed to recognize an angel.

"This is why I prefer UP-town."

 

[Grimlock]

The Hutts had put out word that any Mando would be welcome within their borders. No doubt in return for them taking the roles as soldiers within their "military". If one wanted to call the ragtag group of criminals and gangsters a military. Dex had no intention of going to Nar Shaddaa, though when he was told he could find a way to speak with the Jedi through the Hutts, he hesitantly ditched his beskar'gam and put on some civvies. There was no hiding the Mando tattoos on his arms or hands, so he didn't try. Perhaps it was the ink or the fact he wore his Ripper Gun on his right thigh. Gently pulling at the jacket ending neatly at his waist to adjust the fit or perhaps to fidget, he didn't know. All he knew is that he hadn't been out of his armor completely in over 10 years and he wasn't a fan of that fact. It still didn't stop him from wearing a lighter undercover armor that covered his torso and thighs.

Continuing down the street, he kept a careful eye out for the cantina he had been told to meet at. Or at least the alley. None of it sat well with the man, though he didn't have a choice in the least. Two of the five great clans of The Brotherhood had been ravaged and he needed to find allies to take to the fight to the Sith. If that meant, the Jedi, Rebels, or even the Hutts. He would make sure the Imperium paid for every drop of Mandalorian blood ten times over.

 

[Dóiteán]

Evaar walked the streets of Nar Shaddaa, following Dex. Dressed in his reddish poncho and brown hat with a black shirt and jeans and brown boots and gloves, he checked the two SIW-7 Black Widow pistols in their holsters and the jagged vibroblade in it's sheath. The gunslinger couldn't believe he was back on Nar Shadda. The place looked just like what it used to when he worked for the Retrade. He wondered if their was still a bounty on his head from killing the one Hutt. He chuckled at the memory of it. Here I am again. I wonder if Yuri is around still, he thought. Evaar kept up with Dex, occasionally telling the older mandalorian which alley to take.

"Never thought I'd be walking these streets again", he said out loud. Evaar didn't think anyone would recognize him. Especially anyone associated with Hura the Hutt. Evaar couldn't help but inwardly smile at the stupidity of that Hutt.

 

[Butler]

Their fingers steadily retrieved knives from their pockets. Brass knuckles fit loosely onto their hands with a twist. And they licked the drool from their lips. This white suited little man was a clear payday, outnumbered, and unarmed.

Lucifer's head casually rolled round his shoulders.

They jumped him. Lucifer pivoted left, igniting a wide blue plasmic slice up through a right leg and through another's waist, ducking forward with pulling twist back the same direction with a slice through another's throat and a side kick to the last man's gut. The kicked man slammed into the wall. Lucifer followed, slamming his shoulder in tight against the man's chest, plunging his lightsaber into his abdomen. The saber beam retracted into nothingness.

Hitching the hilt inside his jacket, onto the clip of his belt, he realized a red haze had stained his white suit jacket.

"Ah!" he exclaimed with echo carrying down the alley, arms out and head down in awe of the abominable stain.

He switched a swift kick into the slow sliding body out of spite. And with a protesting purse of his lips and a crinkle in his nose, he shirked off the jacket and held it out in both hands. Retrieving the red sash, he then began folding the jacket. He frustratingly gave up and tossed the jacket onto the corpse. Shaking out the red sash, he walked out towards the street, disheveled.

All he could do was focus on brushing off any blemish that caused him strife, standing out in the alley entrance by the street.

Lucifer double-taked when he saw someone out of the corner of his eye. He looked up. His demeanor melted into a taller glass of water, cool and anticipating. Was this the one he was waiting for? Or just another passerby?

 

[Grimlock]

"The universe has a funny way of working, lad." replied Dex as he heard the unmistakable hum of a lightsaber igniting though it was short lived. A few moments later a man dressed in all white left the alley he had been waiting next to. The man did a double take at the two Mandos, no doubt attempting to discern their purpose for being next to this lone alley. Any individual would have no problem placing Dex as some sort of military type given the short cropped hair and clean shaven yet scarred face. To the casual onlooker it appeared as though the only weapon the man wielded was the RipperGun on the thigh, though that was something Dex was quite proud of. Knowing that at any moment he could produce slicewire, a vibroknuckler, or the pair of Ehn'kad vibroblades he kept under his jacket at the back was a powerful confidence booster in a bad situation.

At the time the man in white was attempting to figure out if Dex was who he was supposed to meeting, Dex was doing the same. 'Time to test the waters.' thought the man as he nodded to the man. "Lovely weather we're having." spoke the Mando. No it wasn't the code phrase he had been given. Yes it was an extremely idiotic statement on a planet covered in pollution. Dex didn't care in the least. He was here to speak to the Jedi. Not get hired by the Hutts or absorbed into their military forces.

 

[Dóiteán]

Evaar stopped next to Dex when a white-suited man came out of an alley. Anyone looking at Evaar would not be able to tell he was a mandalorian. He didn't carry himself the same way as Dex. Evaar carried himself like many other gunslingers. He studied the man. Hands gripping his blasters, but didn't draw them. He looked to Dex when the older Mando spoke.

 

[Butler]

Lucifer's head quirked, eye squinting a discerning smirk to the man's strange comment. Lucifer placidly bent back, palms half-hazardly lifting out, eyes peering up to the fogged sky. His confidence and heir of superiority oozed from him like a humid vapor, disregarding the companion's hands upon his weapons as though he were impervious to them. Lucifer turned. He turned again. He looked back to the man and smirked again with a casual point. Then he tenderly tapped his nose with that finger and smiled a broad teethy grin. His physically sarcastic response was a tad unnecessary. But he enjoyed it all the same.

"...I'd forgotten 'she' even had weather at all." Lucifer smoothly slid his fingers down his sides into his thigh pockets, subsequently stuffing the red sash out of sight, with a straightening back that cracked three singular pops in sequence. "What with the Mandalorians being blasted from their beds. But thank you. You've given me a moment's reprieve I've sorely been lacking."

 

[Grimlock]

His eyes narrowed at the comment about the Imperial campaign against the Mandalorian clans, if one could call the genocide a campaign. "Happy to help. Perhaps we should get this conversation over with? I was told the Hutts have intel on the Jetiise." replied Dex as he got straight to the point. "Though I suppose the better question would be why are the Hutts providing asylum to us?" asked the older Mando while he cocked his head to the side almost like he was listening to an invisible helmet comlink.

Dex had been on edge for days now since the Imperial attacks began, standing in the freezing winds of Alzoc looking to the sky waiting for Imperial capital ships to exit hyperspace and begin unleashing their waves of fighters and barrages of turbolasers on the planet.

 

[Dóiteán]

Evaar kept a hand on his blaster. Having spent time in Hutt space many years ago, he knew that you could never be to careful. Hearing Dex's question, Evaar couldn't help but smirk. "Isn't it obvious Alor? The Hutts are afraid that they will be next. So obviously they want Mandalorian protection", he said out loud. The man eyed the suited man darkly. He wasn't about to trust the man this soon.

 

[Butler]

Lucifer's palms spilled out from his hips, open, as his head sank backwards - lips spreading a smile.

"Hahahahaha," came the loopy laugh as if softly winded from genuine under-expressive hilarity.

Left hand pressing onto unimaginably flat abs, his right hand reached around his back slowly in anticipation of the bodyguard's twitchy trigger finger. Slowly Lucifer retrieved the lightsaber hilt, silver and sparkling. He held it out in open presenting palm, now simply smiling with composure. He looked at it, clearly capable of pulling his grasp back with a lightning speed they could only dream of obtaining, and looked back up at them. His fingers closed into a fist about the pommel, twisting it over flat before them. Cautiously his thumb unraveled and bent towards the ignition gem. Then he ignited it out horizontally, spitting out that legendary snap-hiss with a beautiful blue plasmic beam; clear and humming a purr.

His devilish eyes beamed behind the glowing highlight against his cheeks, cheshire chiding teeth showing white smile from within blurred, almost nonexistent, lips.

"The Hutts are providing asylum to you at the behest of the Jedi..."

He held stance as though embodying all Jedi of this tragic time, representing the lengths all must go to in dark times. Alliances, whether disgustingly wrong or not, were necessary for survival. And though Lucifer was many things, his words slithering and sly, he was no fool. He understood the need to band together to see his dreams fulfilled. If he was not proof enough that the Jedi were with the Hutts in some form, then these Mandalorians were indeed lost to their quivering cowering fear in isolation before finding themselves forever exterminated beyond return.

"Shall I tell you what they told us?" he volunteered them to let him continue.

Perhaps now he had their undivided attention, as a channel to the Jedi he presently offered them. And even as sleazy as he may seem, he had shown his hand like the playing of cards; which could only fortify his bargain as the Cartel was known to do. In other words, it made him seem more honest somehow; keeping true to the Hutt's way of doing business: trump cards and secret alliances with the seemingly unimaginable figures. Yes. Even the Jedi.

 

[Grimlock]

After Evaar finished speaking, Dex held a hand up. "Udesii, ner vod." spoke the older Mandalorian as the other man started to speak. His gaze never Lucifer, nor did his hand leave an area of his belt that carried a weapon to defend himself with. As the man in white said the Jedi requested the Hutts provide asylum, he felt a sudden suspicion though he didn't let it show on his face. Decades as a bounty hunter and mercenary gave an uncanny ability to hide his true emotions behind a passive expression. "That seems convenient. No doubt the Jedi have no credits to pay the Hutts to provide us asylum. So tell me. What are they paying you with? I find it hard to believe the Hutts do this out of the goodness of their sluggy little hearts." spoke Dex in an even nonthreatening tone.

"Please continue. What did the Jedi tell the Cartel?" asked the Mando while he scratched at his cheek.

 

[Dóiteán]

Evaar looked at Dex and nodded. He watched Lucifer closely, never being one to trust easily. The gunslinger kept his hands away from his pistols that were strapped to his waist. Something's up, he thought. Having worked with Hutts before, he found the statement very suspicious.

 

[Butler]

" ~The galaxy deserves better~ " he quoted with a sovereign sneer, a tender tone not his own. " ~Better than you can give. Better than we can give~ " he paraphrased, gesturing to Dex and then himself. Lucifer snickered, "It's not about credits for them. Have you lost all recollection of what a Jedi is?"

Lucifer watched his beloved blue beam shimmer and gleam through the darkness, starting a short pacing step away from them.

"As for the slugs, well, anything to turn a profit; as you said." He smiled at his warlock's weapon. "Can't fight a war against overwhelming odds and raise escrow at the same time now can we?"

His wrist rolled a slight circling of the beam before letting it fall down to his side lazily. He turned a more serious glance back to Dex.

"We don't accept bad loans anyway. No freebees here. We want you to fight your own enemy, to fight the Jedi's enemy...our enemy. We fund, you fight. If you happen to conjoin with another band of merry men under our banner, or rather all our banner, like the Jedi, then so be it. So long as you're keeping the Sith busy and off our backs, we're your benevolent benefactors."

His thumb flipped the switch, and the blue beam withdrew back into its silver hilt.

"They pay us with their lives. Is there any greater price? But we don't demand it of them. We simply fund them with a future, as we'd like with you. I'm just a messenger. But to continue on the path, I need you as well. Every soldier counts. And as we all know, there's no better soldier than a Mandalorian. Right gentlemen?"

 

[Grimlock]

As the man wielding the saber spoke, Dex couldn't help but feel there was a hidden agenda on the Hutts side. "The Jedi are hypocrites. Or have you forgotten? Though they are the lesser of two evils." spoke the Mandalorian. The people of Mandalore had fought for the Sith once before and were thrown to the side once again. For the first time since the Mandalorian Wars of the Old Republic, the Mandalorian people had been at the peak of their might. Though they had over extended themselves once again and paid the price with their blood and land.

"You wish to hire the Skirata verde to fight this war of yours?" I'm sure the Hutts have conscripts they can call upon." spoke the Mando before shaking his head and continuing. "Though any novice tactician knows that a conscripted soldier is only effective as long as their for of their masters outweigh the fear of their enemy. Though when you hire a Mandalorian you know the job will be done right."

Watching as the saber was shut off, he nodded shortly at the man's next statement. "I'm sure the Hutts would like nothing better than to have Mandalorians indebted to them." commented Dex as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What proof do we have the Hutts can put us in contact with the Jedi if we fight for them?"

 

[Dóiteán]

Evaar listened closely. He looked to Dex when the man spoke. The man raised a good point. They would need to know if the slugs would keep they're words. Though Evaar knew not to trust a Hutt. There were few people he trusted.

 

[Butler]

"Well we're all a little hypocritical," he dismissed.

The Mandalorian knew how to bargain. That much was clear. Lucifer recognized every tactic the warrior used, recognized them as his own. Though perhaps Dex actually believed everything he said. It was an assumption worth making from Lucifer's perspective.

"Don't devalue your men's lives, my friend. Theirs is plenty payment for our credits, equal payment. No debts here. Tit for tat."

Lucifer couldn't be more generous, in his own, very immodest, opinion. But he wasn't looking to enslave them to the Cartel. Though neither was he looking to convince them of that fact. He simply couldn't let poor Dex assume, on misinterpreted un=specificity.

"Well I offer you the Sith, exhibit 'A', prime candidate for the pursuing. Where else will the Jedi be, but right on the front lines against the Sith? I ask you? The Sith will not allow them to simply wither away from the history texts in their hidden refuges. No hiding. They see this. Well, some. And that is what we galvanize upon, aiding them in their effort; just as we would you and yours."

Lucifer eyed the still saline shine of his fingernails.

"And if that's not enough..."

Lucifer reached into his pocket, retrieved a small media player, and tossed it to Dex. The common sign for play, an arrow, sat next to the audio file on the screen. Incorrectly, it was dated two weeks ago. It was a memento, perhaps something that he'd never thought he'd share with anyone else before now; even in his preparing of today, convincing himself it unnecessary for the negotiations. Apparently not.

And when Dex played it, he would hear the voice of Jedi Master Juno Armstrong conversing with a young Jedi named Arisa ...and himself, Lucifer. The conversation was broken up a bit, only a recording of a section of the full recruitment. But as the voices would play, Lucifer's head would turn away and bite his lip; holding back a tear in his eye. For that voice was still somehow the most important thing to him in all of existence.

Lucifer sniffed, blinking the water from his eyes, and returned back to Dex if he could only hope that memory was cast away by this. But his hand would itch at his side, hiding the urge to reach back out for it's return.

"Recognize anyone...?"

Assuming Dex even knew who was on the audio recording, could even tell that it was a Jedi Master, Lucifer knew just how to spin it. However, expecting Dex not to know who was on there, Lucifer knew just what to say.

 

[Grimlock]

Lucifer was right about everyone being a bit hypocritical and Dex wasn't about to argue that fact. He instead opted to listen while the man spoke of the Sith and how the Jedi would be leading the charge from the front lines, causing the Mando to chuckle at the thought of the mystics running ahead of the Mandalorian and Hutt infantry with their sabers drawing the fire onto them. "You promise much to us. I can only wonder how you intend to uphold these promises." spoke Dex as the recorder was thrown to him. He glanced at the device before hitting the play button, listening to the recording on it. He didn't know the voices on the recorder other than Lucifer's.

As the recording ended, he looked back to the white clad man in front of him who showed quite a bit of emotion at the recording. He could tell the man wanted the recorder returned back to him through minuscule actions. It was difficult to hide body language from someone who grew up in a culture that held a passive armored face. It was a required skill in the Mandalorian culture. "Can't say I do. The mystics and I have never been on the best of terms." spoke Dex as he lightly tugged at the scarf hanging loosely from his neck made of Sith and Jedi cloak patches.