Ask For the Glory of Mon Cala

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

A great immensity sat upon a cushioned throne in the lower levels of the Menagerie in Ord Mantell City. Mordeth the Hutt was by no means new the criminal scene on the planet. The locals knew who she was. But now, after over a century of biding her time, she was finally ready to begin stretching her grasp beyond her quaint abode. Still, it was best to start small. Make too big a move, and the other Hutts would see her as a threat. And there weren't just other Hutts to worry about in the Five Syndicates.

Mon Cala felt like a small enough target. The recent ravages brought upon the world by Za Fenn presented an opportunity that witless oaf, Gareth, had perhaps not intended to create. To that end, the great Hutt had summoned Damon Kross to her abode. The smuggler had been attempting to make a name for himself of late. They made natural allies.

Sitting on a cushion of her own just beneath the great Hutt's litter was a much smaller creature, a woman, Heleen, who was Mordeth's majordomo. The goblin-like alien took a long drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke into the already polluted air of the chamber, before addressing her master's audience.

"My master, Her Excellency Mordeth the Hutt, Eminence of Ord Mantell, would like to welcome you to the Menagerie, Damon Kross," the majordomo said.

«Meecooda paknee ata fa doi wata, Heleen,» Mordeth said, fanning herself. «Chobaso bai Ahu konkaui, Damon Kross. Jee panweba uba gee boonowa mee jazaee baplamkadi?» @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Out of all the hell-scapes he'd visited in the last five years, Ord Mantell ranked among the top of the list. The planet was a criminal vacuum with various factions vying for supremacy and Crix couldn't help but notice the parallel between this planet and the Syndicate as a whole. He hoped his meeting today would prove fruitful, he disdained endangered servitude, but based on the lascivious vitality of the staff here in The Menagerie, he figured there were far worse fates.

Crix wore his alias Damon Kross for this meeting. He found himself acting more and more as Damon and less as himself, and a small part of him wondered if he'd eventually stop thinking of Damon as an Alias. He was dressed in Calrissian style. Damon wore rose-tinted smart glasses and a black and crimson armorweve half cape hung over his left side. He wore a v-neck tunic made of silk that matched the crimson underlayer of his cape. His pants were slate with a black stripe running up the outside of the leg and his boots were mid-shin black bantha leather. Completing his ensemble was the gunbelt which housed his DG-29 and RSFK-44.

It had taken time for Crix to fully adopt this persona. The flamboyant nature of dress was off-putting to him at first, but the more he walked this character out the more it felt appropriate for his budding company. Hardlight was slowly but surely becoming something of note. With each successful venture and job it became more prolific putting him one step closer to his ultimate goal.

The echo of his footfalls entering Mordeth Anjiliac Massri's throne room snapped from his introspection. It was time to go to work.

As Heleen made the introductions, Crix took a moment to survey the area. It seemed Mordeth preferred weequay to gammorian's and that spoke volumes to The Scoundrel. Comparatively, Weequay were vastly more capable than Gammorians. Their presence alone differentiated this Hutt from the other's Crix had met recently.

With a casual smile, Damon said, "Thank you for the introduction Heleen."

Then to Mordeth, "Do gracious eminence doe accommodations afe been far abova expectation. Mee no che do hospitality."

With a small clap of his hands, a droid would enter carrying a box.

"Plesa taka deese offering asa buncha suucha mucha accoutcuha."

Within the box Mordeth would find an intricate decanter containing an expensive perfume.

@Mockingjay

 

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

Mordeth licked her immense lips as if she were preparing to receive a meal. The perfume in the box was Jesmin—made from a rare plant found on Mon Cala. She imagined there wouldn't be much more of this product for some time, given the current state of Mon Cala's oceans. This bottle alone would triple in worth by the time Za Fenn's stupidity was fully understood by the galactic community. It is a gift she wouldn't have thought possible for a human, and showed that he had at least done his research before stepping into her den.

«Wa dan litka du abaha an ba pacmhan see Yikkuensm,» Mordeth noted. «Uba woy mee kouuanu-nem bmala phabeka, Kross. Tah kouoiohag lwaa tee doth chulkah.»

She placed the bottle carefully onto a pillow extended to her by Heleen, who then handed it to a Weequay servant who whisked it away to join the rest of her personal collection. And now that the formalities were out of the way, they could begin the talk of a subject they no doubt both would profit from. Business.

«An ateema bai yanee. Uba gee nobata siw babau dee tam kouwaueva dah Mon Cala nai kachu cay heee Za Fenn yinba,» Mordeth began. «Bu apoyox'a gee eeth bu Benbepoka du wa chace jaa an dotkot wa dayan um baw wah Yih Lanka bai setkenu kae doi Za Fenn momeu bankop bom bom mee fanahoi yoieu bpee vehpe.»

She launched into an explanation of recent events. How she had made a public statement denouncing Za Fenn and promising aid to the hurting people of Mon Cala. Of course, the smuggler was smart enough to know that her motivations were not purely due to a bleeding heart. Hutts were only ever motivated by their profit margins, and if she just wanted to move humanitarian goods to the surface of Mon Cala, she would hardly need a smuggler.

No, she had ulterior motives.

«Jee dayan uba bai dopyapih wa kouwoleue hotpa. Fa doth mah kankanla bai meeto toe Mon Cala bai banang baua yanee metpa heee. Banya kee uba bai paknee ata mi pinee pee bu chaieya Jee sanuba hoohah. Jee hatkocanh banpop bacaka uba bai nakiheu paupe see mah bmela bai bu planeeto ban dotkola pomka. Ninba camai doth wa dan nanbaga che bmela, peee Dobra gahke uba gee see fah.» She paused to gauge his reaction. Smugglers were usually not bleeding hearts as long as they got paid, but these days, with the Sith trying to project an image of benevolence, one could never be sure. «Kuna kee see pacmhanaduee doth wamma mee ahbenoy kolki mallya chalanh, dah nahka see wa cou da lwaa paiha bu bauban bahvoba mah bamibath hatkocanh koose bai mee boga. Tweepi, lwaa jeejee biplata, kuna kee melam wa hhonoo dee chaweka Jee woy doi bmela nanba dah Mon Cala. Wa kouoioy mo, nah uba sey?» @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Damon bowed his head at the Hutt's approval of the gift. He made a mental note to thank Barlo when he got back to The Freebird. To his surprise, Mordeth got right to the point. The Smuggler listened without emotion. It was clear she was speaking in double entendres. No Hutt in the history of the galaxy had ever done something altruistically, and her desire to separate the Cartel from the Zaa Fenn meant his suspicions were true. The power vacuum within the Five had begun.

When Mordeth began detailing the truth of their meeting, he played the part. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on what role he'd be playing in this Public Relation's endeavor. A sly smile adorned his face as the job was presented. For the most part, it was run-of-the-mill. That was the thing with Criminal masterminds, they always thought they were the first ones to come up with an idea. In the end, it didn't matter.

"U humble je gee do request, Do eminence. Hardlight independent would be thrilled tah choba aid tah doe downtrodden beings of mon cala."

His sly smile broadened at the mention of payment. He had no qualms with providing the disenfranchised the ability to get lit. Life was all about choice, if someone chose to get high on spice, that wasn't really his problem.

"Do choba sa ree generous, thank you."

Damon began crunching the logistics of transporting a Hutt, the medical supplies, and the spice. He pulled out his datapad and ran some figures before saying, "When would Uba like Tah leave, Do grace?"

He knew the loading process wouldn't take long, if anything making sure the Hutt was comfortable would be the hard part. Mon Cala wasn't exactly next door, this trip would take some time, and there was the matter of security. He was confident his spoofer would hold. He had a rotating plethora of transponders, and he hadn't don't anything super illegal in a couple of months... so.... what was he missing?

Replacing the datapad, he awaited the Hutt's instruction. If she gave the order he'd begin putting things into motion. The sooner this was done the sooner Crix would be one more step closer to obtaining the power he needed to start solidifying his hold on a branch of the Syndicate.

@Mockingjay

 

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

Mordeth knew she needed to move quickly. Mon Cala was a public relations gold mine. It was also blood in the water for the Syndicates. The fools in the Galactic Senate thought the Syndicates would be clutching their pearls after Za Fenn's devastation. In reality, the aftermath of the crisis was an opportunity to establish business there forever. But she wouldn't be the only one to recognize this. It was only a matter of time before Nor'baal, Perla, or one of the other Hutts tried to add the ocean world to their territory too.

The sooner she got there the better.

«Bu doube jeejee jot ree cuebat cua bokeue,» she admitted. «Fa baa tee ritke bu Benbepoka jeejee doth raca. Bu Ciduepe mee, bu Kankahuesa, bu Pantahlea... la hatkocanh tytung doth ye wanya bai moova bu hhosaba don wa dokoza da bakopa twa boha dokoza.»

She said it as though they weren't already doing this. Last she had heard, a meeting of the Senate had been called. The first in months. It was unlikely the fools would get anything done. They'd make strong statements, wag their collective fingers at the Outer Rim, declare a war on crime, as if such a thing had ever been successful. But at the end of the day, they would be forking each other's throats more than they would be bothering the Hutts.

«Bu chaieya phoba cay bu e'nachu an kabelen copah gee roe doth uohza biy wuehkau nakiheu. Um Jee canta uba koee banag bai dopyocan an uohza bu bmela kae,» she continued. «Catke cohka, jeejee lwaa jot hiee. Kava doube cheesba bakanu uba bai doth chake?»

Before he even answered, she was calculating the length of their journey. It was a long flight from Ord Mantell near the Core to Mon Cala near the galaxy's edge. Assuming they didn't get arrested when they landed, Mordeth intended to stay on Mon Cala for a few days. Her plans once she got there were much less typical, and much more sensitive.

She waved at her servants with her fans. They knew this as the general signal to fetch her travel litter which had her hookah pipe attached to it. She was definitely going to need that on this journey. @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Damon listened intently as Mordeth explained the importance of striking while the iron was hot. It made sense that she'd want to get this moving, but loading that amount of supply wasn't going to be easy, not to mention the fact that Mordeth was going to be ON The Freebird. He took a breath and smiled.

<We can be off-world in just a few hours, your grace.>*

Realistically, he'd just boss the Hutt's plebs around and have them load the main stock while he and his partner Barlo handed the spice. It had been a while since he'd used his smuggling compartments. A part of him was looking forward to something a little more challenging than the average run.

<Again your understanding of my craft is humbling. I will personally see to the spice. If you've nothing else to discuss your eminence, I will take my leave.>

Damon bowed respectfully and unless stopped by Mordeth would turn on his heel and make his way to the hanger.

While on the way, Crix pulled out his Holocom.

A surly Trandoshan with a scar on his right eye materialized and said, "What?"

"Meeting went well, we've got a job. Can you start loading the hovercarts with—"

"Please, you think this is my first day?" Cut in Barlo.

Crix stifled a laugh, "Sorry, I'm used to dealing with independents."

"Yeah, I'll have the majority of the bulk loaded by the time you get here. You can handle the good stuff."

"You read my mind."

"It's not hard to read."

"You're an asshole. Oh, Mordeth is joining us."

"Sorry, it sounded like you were trying to frak with me."

"I'm not."

The Trandoshan didn't say anything for a long while. Crix began to test the feed when Barlo said, "I understand."

It was hard maintaining an alias for even a little, but to have to do it for the whole trip would be exhausting, but it was necessary.

An hour later The Freebird was loaded spice and all, the interior of the ship had been modified to accommodate the Hutt and whatever entourage she intended to travel with, though he hoped it wouldn't be more than three. Everything was in order and his ship was currently warming it's engines. It wouldn't be long before they'd be breaking atmosphere and hitting hyperspace.

@Mockingjay (stuff wrapped in <> is in huttese, I'm lazy.)

 

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

The ship was cramped.

She knew it would be; it was designed for humans, not a Hutt. Hutts were known for their weight and sluglike qualities, but they were also quite tall. Mordeth herself was easily as tall as a human man when she was sat down off her litter. But she wasn't off her litter now, and she wasn't going to get off of it either. To be a Hutt, you had to be somewhat insufferable. You had an image to project as much as you had a business to run. She didn't know this man from Yih, so she wasn't about to let that image drop. Even now.

Even in space.

But she wasn't about to sit quietly either. On her yacht, she would have passed the time with a party of some kind. Food, music, sometimes she turned on a holo-drama or a sporting event and made bets with her retinue until the ship punched out of hyperspace. The Freebird was more gloomy and damp, yet somehow that just made the Hutt daimyo want to talk more. Not that talking was bad. It was a good way of making contacts. Establishing ties. And getting information.

«Wa pankpa bacaka tah saiot yom neu mee dohs wahpiha,» Mordeth said, noting the Freebird's obvious wear and tear. «Gee uba doth dah kae chalanh batesn see alay, Damon Kross?»

She eyed his Trandoshan friend as she asked the question. Mordeth had never liked Trandoshans. There was a trio of them on Ord Mantell that had been her bane until recently. Even Trandoshan bounty hunters were hard to work with. She hoped this one at least proved amicable. @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

To his surprise the loading had gone exceedingly well. They'd managed to be ahead of schedule and were already in hyperspace. Mordeth was sitting on her litter, which Damon had completely expected. A teenie tiny microscopic part of him felt bad for the Hutt. Their lives were ruled by their success. They were universally despised and depicted as the evil mob boss in every holodrama since the beginning of time. He. of course, held no real sympathy for Mordeth. He was positive she'd done her fair share to earn the scrutiny, but looking at her now, poised atop her litter in a ship made for humans... It made him feel sad for her.

Crix understood what it meant to uphold a specific outward appearance. He'd done it since the attack on Denon and his need to be accepted into the syndicates had given birth to his alter-ego. Maybe that's why he found himself willing to sit and chat with the Hutt. Then again, ignoring the slug would have been impossible.

Damon was behind his wet bar playing the role of dutiful host, Barlo was lounging in the booth to the left and in front of Mordeth, and the Trandoshan hadn't said much since the Hutt's arrival. Barlo had lived in the underworld before Crix was born. He'd made a name for himself as a hunter and was often compared to Bossk, but that was no doubt because people just liked to point at beings from the same species. One day he might be compared to Han or Lando, hell if he were lucky, he'd be compared to Talon Karrde, but that wasn't something he expected to happen any time soon.

Damon poured himself a glass of whiskey. He poured an ale for Barlo, and would happily accommodate the Hutt however he could.

Mordeth's question made him stop and think for a moment. Recently, his jobs had been rather mundane. A tale as boring as "I delivered some good and had to shoot people." Wasn't the kind of high-stakes adventure Mordeth wanted to hear.

<Thank you for noticing. This ship has seen plenty of battle in it's time. As of late, I can only recall one job worth mentioning.>

Damon let the anticipation build, before continuing, <Three months ago, I was running a routine cargo mission for a senator, I know, how boring, right? Two-thirds of the way through the hyperspace jump, I'm ripped right out hyperspace!>

As he spoke he finished Mordeth's drink and passed it off.

<So, there I am, completely alone staring at two starfighters, a gunship, and an assault transport with a gravwell planted right on it's back.>

He wasn't alone, he'd hired a strange individual that referred to himself as the Iron Kowak, but it was more interesting a story without that guy in it. He retrieved a small bundle of Carababba tabac, a strain thought to be lost to the galaxy, offered some to Mordeth for her hookah, then rolled himself and Barlo a couple of cigarettes all while continuing to tell the story.

<I threw the ship into evasive maneuvers, my co-pilot, Beegee, cutest BG unit you've ever seen, screened like a banshee being exorcised...>

Damon laughed as he was reminded of the pitch the little droid had managed to hit during the initial contact between him and the pirates.

<With a little luck, I managed to take out one fighter and wound the other before turning on the gunship and assault transport.>

He lit up his cigarette and took a drag. The spiced flavors of tobacco and vanilla intermingled delightfully.

<The gunship was nothing to scoff at. It was a YT-49 Decimator.>

The memory of the fight brought back found feelings. The captain of this particular crew had been a very attractive Cathar who'd taken quite a liking to Crix over the course of their skirmishes, and frankly, the feelings were mutual.

<I remember our battle like it was yesterday. The Decimator fired torpedos, ion blasts, and laser cannons, but none of it was a match for The Freebirds finesse. I managed to outfly the gunships armament and turned it to slag.>

Another exaggeration. The ship had been outflown utterly. The Iron Kowok literally rammed the Assult ship with the gravwell and they blew up. To this day he has no clue what in the hell possessed the Wet Kitty to go out like that, but it was entertaining.

<With their big guns blown to bits, it wasn't hard to remove the gravwell from the situation. From there I finished the job and got paid.>

The story reminded him he needed to reach out to his contact in the senate. He was interested in branching out and word on the airlines was the senator of Onderon was the entrepreneurial type.

Damon sipped his whisky and then posed the question back to Mordeth.

<I would love to hear a tale of your exploits, your grace. I've always found the tactics employed by The Hutts to be works of art.>

@Mockingjay

 

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

She liked him. All the gods be damned, she liked the fucking scoundrel.

No doubt some of the smuggler's tale was fabrication, or at the very least exaggeration. Smugglers were fond of weaving their tales and Mordeth had to admit enjoying listening to them. Telling her own was another matter, though. Hutts didn't go on grand flights or adventures. And anything exciting around them usually happened because they ordered it, not because they took part it in it personally. But that didn't mean she didn't have stories. she had one she could tell, though she was unsure of how exciting it would be.

«Tee janse bankop, Jee saleu bai aweleoi woy Ahu konkaui mah hahekahea,» she began. «Um bu planeeto ah echuta hhee see pheca. Boyeke bai doth Teshe Bin hahekahea bankop da Benbepoka pobipag an jot bu bkhoh bai koushonbe bacota an delepua donba.»

She stroked her great chin as if she were peeling back the layers of time in her mind. In reality, these events had transpired only weeks ago, when she had decided to assert her territorial claim more... directly. «Jee bai tytung hoohah bai wa panpiht. La hatkocanh eeth nudd twa champio, Jee hatkocanh eeth nudd bidwata, an bu lognenh hatkocanh yoieu Ahu konkaui.» A white lie. She didn't tell them they'd win Ord Mantell because she didn't intend for them to win. She intended to axe them all and take Ord Mantell. Semantics. «Mah champio doth wa bahket kanwecoee bauuelekoieh dhika coo bacaka bai joggdu bo dika. Bimhee gee jen doth Wooky, kahkesonh droida, Wouuaan keueketka, an Tepka donba kacdy. Mah tamoy cha ye wanya dan.»

She almost couldn't believe what happened next herself. «Uba caiot kacosa mah bihmhepa joppay mah bahket kanwecoee bauuelekoieh champio doh bu Wooky. cha ritke doh jen bap. Hhonoo jen bimhee saptkhe heee an baah bo wai ree mah ceaba bai boya peee wa homechah.» Her eyes glittered, as if she were telling him a secret. «Bu baua jilrobahee cha pim nallya bom bom tee bai tah. caiot tee kankahuesa mee kouuobau hoohah. Um joppay goo nemeh doptkee bo jicala-suom, la bla tanea see hoohah doth bauianonkee doi bu Gohnee nem. Goo doth wa Beh, uba neu.»

The Sith hadn't whipped out a lightsaber. He had tried using some sort of mind trick to force the fighters to fight each other for his amusement, and presumably Mordeth's too. But he had misjudged his strength and had to fight when the angry vagrants jumped them.

«Cha youkesa bu dotkohu doi dokoi, pionpoe. La keepuna ree vea. Beh chahsa cha cuee see hoohah, um Jee gee bai dokei bo cay mah natka wa kouciukoee tee-tocky. Uba saiit yom neu bu bonsa.» Mordeth said, at least wrapping her tale. «An da doth kava Jee nan bai masii bu danko biw dah Ahu konkaui. Nu taneee baua uba gee joday che gee vee gee hee ba chalanh baukola bai pawa, peai cha ha?» @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Over his rose-tinted glasses, Mordeth would see a tinge of surprise as she began to tell her story. He'd expected to be waved off and admonished for his brazen question, but it appeared the Hutt had taken a liking to him. The implications of this would surely come back to bite him in the ass, but for now, he'd listen.

Again, to his surprise he found himself engrossed in her tale. He knew not everything she said was the truth, it couldn't be, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the story. He found himself unsurprised by the Sith's use of their penultimate weapon. What else would he have used, and to be honest it didn't make much sense for him to have not used it on the Wookie. He also couldn't help but glance at her tail as she described bashing a foe or two with it. He'd not considered what a Hutt in combat would look like, but he noted the apparent flexibility of the appendage.

He refilled drinks as she finished her story and he had to admit, <I've never heard a more fascinating rise to power. The only other Hutt I've been lucky enough to meet was Nor'Baal and between you and I, he's a bit of a bore.> He added with a chuckle.

This was a bit of a calculated risk. He knew in the past Hutt councils were held together by power, not loyalty, and he figured there'd be no better time to see what Mordeth thought of the other Hutt. Who knows if he could get her drinking maybe he'd be able to glean a little further into the Cartel's inner workings, but he'd need more time. One drink in wasn't going to get anyone talking much less a being that spent their entire life drinking and getting high.

Barlo was enjoying himself in his own way. The Trandoshan hadn't said a word, but he'd been just as wrapped up in Mordeth's story as Damon was.

<I apologize for abruptly changing the subject, but before we get to, shall I say, liberated,> his waggled the whisky bottle in the air to emphasize his meaning, <Should we discuss the logistics of our trip?>

He was well aware of his job. It was easy, get drugs into a planet. No big deal, what he was interested in was what he could expect upon arrival.

<Truthfully, your grace, the only two questions I really have are: What is security going to look like, and Once we break atmosphere, where are we taking the load?>

It was always better to hash these things out. They were going to be a target, a known criminal was "donating" large amounts of medical supplies to a planet that had just undergone a terrorist attack. Not to mention the Cartel was affiliated with the 5S which was the faction directly responsible for the attack. Granted the Za Fenn graciously took full responsibility, and Nor'baal and Mordeth had given separate galaxy-wide announcements to show their support, but The Scoundrel, just couldn't shake the thought that someone was going to try and complicate this job.

@Mockingjay

 

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

Mordeth laughed out loud when Damon mentioned Nor'baal being a bore. His Great Immensity, as she called him when he wasn't around, was awful fond of pretending he was the boss. And maybe he would be the boss someday. But even then she wouldn't fully respect him. He was Desilijic and she was Anjiliac. That gap was hard to cross. Still, she gave the human points for making the joke. He didn't know Hutt politics well enough to know if it would have offended her, yet he made it anyways. She liked that about him.

But fun gave way to work. It always did.

The Huttess pulled her long face into a series grimace. «Bu soong dah Mon Cala doth wuehkae,» she explained. «Bu kahka hopta baukola veikose. Bu cauioba killee ban bankobagiza. Jee cha bakanu bai manpanh kiuke banbonzahag bonee wagan jeejee yoieu heee.» Commander Jal Widase had not died, so some form of military still existed on Mon Cala, but she intended to deal with him once she got there. He would be busy with the politicians, anyways. «Heee hatkocanh see pacmhanaduee doth paupe dohoheza ye wanya saieh bai mah bmala. Bu Benbepoka doth tytung ye wanya joniu biy cay bu Mon Cala saptkhe ateema, an wa Yih doth cuee mapanadue ai wa kacdy see Za Fenn.»

But there were ways around even that. Most of the scrutiny was being focused on Dac City. Ambassadors from across the galaxy were there paying their respects to the dead. It was also the planet's most well-known surface city. If the Syndicates wanted to make another move, it would be there. Combined with the loss of security forces and the willingness not to be spread thin, the Mon Cala Security Forces would focus their attention on Dac City and the underwater cities hit hardest by the attacks. This left one option open for them as a port for their goods.

«Kuna kee paknee ata bu dan bai Tam Pahoi Bohw peee bu banbonzahag doth koubepe.» Mordeth continued. «Catke cohka mah chapuocou wa kouciukoee hou bankop, Jee banba paupe see mah yae bankop bai kaciauiua cay bu yauma jodahetka heee. kuna kee mapan hoohah cay wa jazoy geuenby la kon uba cay wa miha cenka. Kon bu dan mo bai hoohah bonee wagan jeejee doth dotkenkala bmoladahu banbonzahag an la hatkocanh yoieu fa tytung peee fa dayan bai bolla. Dooo bu bmela.»

She fanned her face a few times. There was still one more thing to add. «Bonee wagan bu kankahpantanka doth woy, Jee hatkocanh nudd bu phabeka che mee beeska mu-moolee bai mee poupiua. Hee uba koee jot mi. Jee hatkocanh dayan bai bidkana dah Mon Cala che wa kouciukoee hou che yanee. Mah pankpa hatkocanh nan an douaph mi bimhee joppay Dobra chake bai bolla banki danko bai Ahu konkaui.» @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Damon leaned on the bar as Mordeth spoke. He took a drag on his cigarette and bobbed his head in agreement listening intently to the plan she'd meticulously laid out. The fact that she'd chosen New Coral for their destination was wonderfully devious. It was an obvious choice, but he hadn't even considered it. Mordeth was more than the common criminal on the rise. She was the real deal. The story of her origin on Ord Mantell took on a slightly new light as he took a final drag off his cigarette before putting it out.

<I understand. It sounds like you've put a substantial amount of effort into securing this opportunity. Cheers to that.>

He lifted his glass and downed the rest of his whiskey. Thinking back to what she'd said and the publicity that her announcement had made he was starting to wonder if the main opposition they'd face would be from another criminal faction.

<What are the chances of us running into your friends from the Black Sun?>

Being meticulous could be taxing, but it was the best way to avoid fuck ups and Damon thrived on not fucking up. In all honesty, this was more a way to prove he'd been paying attention. With Hutts, every detail was pertinent and losing focus might as well lead to death, which was another thing Damon sought to avoid.

<I assure you I'm not concerned with the payment. You have my trust, your grace.>

Having trust and keeping it were totally different altogether. Damon would let Mordeth do as she pleased. If she decided to screw him, it wouldn't be hard to complicate things for her indirectly. Currently, Hardlight was on it's way to becoming a substantial enterprise in black-market trading. What better way to move goods than independently contracting smugglers from all over the galaxy that were immediately expendable. Screwing Damon out of credits would only make her life harder, but the hubris of Hutt's knows no bounds. So, he'd play the supplicant and await the knife in the dark like he always did.

@Mockingjay

 

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

Mordeth snorted at the mention of Black Sun. «Teshe Bin koee doth bo dee K'wanna Benbepoka, um la doth wa puna puna acdha see twa wahca kae,» the Hutt explained. «Jee siw kae see hoohah hatkocanh banag bai metpa bu bahvoba see haku kaae banbonzahag Mon Cala gee bai mo. Jeejee lwaa doth banbonzay doi twa doabae.»

In truth, she couldn't think of any crime syndicate that could threaten them on Mon Cala. After Za Fenn, the Mon Cala and Quarren were up in arms about the syndicates. Only another Hutt would have the guts to go there in the current political climate, which is what made her move so opportune. «Ateema Jee gee wa saconba che uba,» she said. «Kava woy uba ahbenoy yatuka bmela dotkenkala banbonzahag pankhauminpka? Jeejee Yih awh ahban wa hotpaka woy ban bla kava. Cheesba uonza tah.»

More importantly, if she knew how a job was done, she could order more of those jobs in the future—done to her exact specifics. Smugglers liked their freedom, but she liked results; and more than a few smugglers who worked for the Syndicates weren't as thorough as Damon Kross. She stood to learn a lot from him if he was feeling particularly forthcoming on this flight. In the meantime, she indulged in his generosity and sipped at the drink he had given her through a long, winding straw. @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

<Interesting, Admittedly, I was more concerned about their reach than their ability to stop us.>

Was the entirety of the Five Syndicates a well-cultivated ruse? He wasn't sure how he felt about that. On one hand, securing his own nest egg of power seemed like an achievable goal at this point. On the other, if the organizations that were acting as the main five were this weak what did that mean for the entirety of the syndicate?

The future looked Hutt.

Damon cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at Mordeth. <I hope to have an answer,> he said with a grin.

He took a sip of whiskey and chased it with a breath off his cigarette. He wasn't sure how honest he should be with her. The magic of smuggling was based in it's preparation. His ship was equipped with enough smuggling compartments to hide twice the load she'd provided, but was that really worth revealing?

Damon glanced at Barlo and the Trandoshan shrugged. That was good enough for him. Downing the rest of his glass, Damon strode from behind the bar and walked up to a panel in front of Mordeth. He lifted it up revealing the containers the spice were given to him in.

<These compartments are specially made to avoid detection by customs sensors. Unless they are physically discovered the chance of them being located is incredibly thin.>

Damon stuck his cigarette in his lip and spread his hands wide with a flourish as if he'd just completed a magic act.

"Ta-dah!"

He exclaimed before laughing. Barlo joined in with his own hissing laughter. Of course, he didn't explain that not all smugglers were created equal. Quality was difficult to find and locating another smuggler with the hidden space The Freebird had would be tough. However, based on their conversation it was clear to Damon, Mordeth wasn't your average Hutt. Who knows, maybe she wanted to give up her throne on Ord Mantell and become a smuggler.

With a groan, Barlo stood. As respectfully as he could he bowed to the Hutt and said, <Please pardon my impertinence, my lady, but these old scales are in dire need of rest."

Knowing proper protocol Barlo would remain until dismissed. Once dismissed he'd retire to one of the rooms flanking the lounge. Damon smiled at his old friend wondering how many more adventures they'd go on before Barlo would be a liability....

Damon closed the hatch refilled his glass, offered Mordeth another, and then languidly embraced the booth.

<May I ask your advice, your eminence?>

Damon would await her response before continuing. If she obliged he would say, <I'm looking to expand my current reach, From what we've discussed I wonder how would one go about usurping the throne of Black Sun?>

@Mockingjay

 

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

Mordeth was not usually in the business of giving upstarts advice. From her experience, those who got too sentimental with their employees ended up getting killed by them. But there was an exception for every rule. If you knew someone was gunning for your rivals, for instance, it might be a good idea to fan the flames. If there was promise. Damon had promise of a kind. He was certainly enthusiastic enough. She supposed there was no real downside to giving him the advice he sought. It wasn't like Black Sun had enough power to punish her at this point anyways.

«Teshe Bin boyeke bai joggdu lhonbau woleuag dah Ahu konkaui an Kitkowe,» she explained, rubbing the folds of her chin with a pudgy paw. «Taa see heee dopyetka cuee, hee kuna kee gee bai doth cuee jahke cay mee gaukodiua. Bo see Teshe Bin baa pasa doe chenlaee joggdu wa banba conglomerate dah Gahitlonh. Whao Jee doth meeto toe wahmhan twa hhana, Jee hatkocanh dopeha cay dokonkee hoohah heee, du twa caka jedha.»

She sucked more of her drink through her straw. The advice made it sound easy, but it was anything but easy. Black Sun was weakened, but they weren't slim pickings. Prince Reza would have poured all of his resources into defending the current source of Black Sun's income, as well as the largest front for their criminal activities. It would take a shrewd criminal mind to bring down Reza Transport Systems. Not to mention credits and men.

Of course, he could get both of those things if he had a sponsor. Someone in the Syndicates to back him against their rivals. But that being would have to be convinced of his chances for success before making that move.

«Bolla catke cohka Teshe Bin ah lhonu hotpa. Kiukapath, bacdop du phabeka an kona see nahpa. Kava woy uba kankanla bai bolla vehpobaee tah amahola ban wen bimhee dah kaee baa wah chee jaha?» she asked. She wanted to see if he had thought this all out himself or was just looking to have her solve his problems for him. Even if he did have the answer, she was not yet convinced moving against Black Sun was the right move.

Not just yet, anyways. Some day perhaps. But that depended on him. @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Damon couldn't believe his ears, was Mordeth actually giving him advice? He hid his surprise behind his rose-tinted glasses and found himself sitting up a little straighter in the booth. He'd heard the rumors about Reza Transport Systems being connected to Black Sun, but he figured Reza was a common name among the Falleen, like Smith was to humans.

Damon ashed his cigarette then sparked another. Hardlight Independent challenged the norm when it came to transportation. Aside from it being a solid cover for intelligent smugglers, and on occasion an opportunistic mercenary, it cut out the cost of supplying ships and the hassle of brokering deals. It was something anyone could do for legitimate work provided they had the means to haul whatever they'd agreed to. Once it was legitimized by the completion of his work for Hergalor, there would be very little stopping its rise in the market.

The Scoundrel blew out a plume of smoke, <Before I was an entrepreneur I was a Pirate.>

He allowed the statement to hang where it was. He'd been playing the dating hoast, but if they were really going to discuss business, then he'd drop the airs and get to the nitty-gritty.

<I'm currently in the process of securing a crew capable of disrupting the flow of trade on major trade routes. At the same time when the crew is secured I will have completed a contract for the Senator of Taanb which would then provide a constant stream of revenue from TAC.>

Damon watched Mordeth carefully, <With that secured, Hardlight will be duracreted into the game as a real player. Then, for fun, I'd allow the crew to begin destabilizing Raza Trasport Systems. In this day and age, it doesn't take long for one's credibility to sour. >

The Scoundrel took a sip of his drink finishing his little monologue with, <From there's its a simple game of Dejarik. Black Sun will inevitably retaliate. This retaliation will force my hand, and I will destroy them. At the end of the day winding up on the bounty board isn't an issue, it's a badge of honor, but to be on any board worth being on, it requires proof.>

He chuckled, <After all, pirates attack ships every day.>

Damon knew his plan wasn't full proof. There were plenty of things that could go wrong, but he was a sucker for the details, and based on the progress he'd already made, he was closer to completing his task than he was letting on.

@Mockingjay

 

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

«Ho ho ho ho ho,» Mordeth laughed deeply, enough to rattle the big folds of skin that spilled across her body like clumps of mud. «Uba doth mah dan see kung, ulwan.» She slurped again at her drink. The straw made a grating sound as the great slug emptied the container it drew from. «Um gee uba chemant haku apoya catke cohka uba sakhana Teshe Bin?»

Now it was her turn to let words hang. Because, after all, there was more to this game than climbing a ladder. There was always the chance someone would cut the ladder out from under you. There was always the chance you reached the top and then stagnated. Because reaching the top was never enough. There was always some ladder to climb. And always fools looking to see you off it. «Whao uba paknee ata Teshe Bin baa lumpa kankay bu K'wanna Benbepoka, hee haku? Preef Calo woy Za Fenn bu cuee hee peekasa du bu danko biw. Tee ava un goo ateema? Tee ava un bo woceuea? la doth konza vee baua an bu baua Benbepoka nobata janse hee phila hoohah.»

«Da doth heoi pee dotkot vee cuee bai woy joppay uba bakenu bu nahka. Cuee ai uba vee gee bai woy ree bu koutimy,» she explained. «Preef Calo an bo woceuea canta bauianonkee heee doth biweoo, um fa tanee doth. Hee, Jee hatkocanh saconba uba maee. Haku apoya joppay uba doh Teshe Bin? Kava hatkocanh uba hanei bu cobaya see Crymorah? Haku see Mizau Hoseha, bu Pykes? Haku dee Yih?»

She nearly chuckled to herself as the words came spilling out. She wasn't entirely certain Nor'baal, the Hutt Oyabun, had thought these questions out. It remained to be seen if he would keep climbing now that he was on top of the Hutts. She could never be certain how far ahead he saw things. But she hadn't stopped climbing. Ord Mantell was not enough. The whole galaxy would not be enough. And even with all that ambition she wasn't guaranteed survival. Had he thought that far ahead? That remained to be seen. @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

The Scoundrel rose from his booth as Mordeth emptied her drink.

<You're too kind, your grace,> he said with a little bow before returning to his wet bar and making her another drink. His cigarette hung loosely in his mouth as he considered her question. The thin tendril of smoke slowly drifted upward into obscurity as it dissipated. Pride told him to lie, to keep Mordeth at arm's length to recede deeper into this veneer of a morales criminal, but wisdom demanded he lean on the truth.

He removed his cigarette from his lips and scratched the top of his head with the same hand as he poured himself a drink with the other. He stepped forward offering Mordeth her refilled beverage.

<Lofty goals can't be obtained without ambition,> he started.

<You're right, when Peef fell so too did the Zaa Fenn. To be honest, the thought of taking Black Sun terrifies me.>

A shrug in combination with a smile played across his visage, <Alone. I fail. Every time.>

He took a sip from his glass, <But when your goal is revenge, failure isn't the option it normally is.>

Dam—Crix said, <When I take Black Sun, I'll do it in a way that'll make every seat think twice about crossing me, and with a little luck, I'll have the support to back that claim when I get there.>

The way Crix saw it, his Black Sun wouldn't, no couldn't be like the aa Fenn. It had to be stronger.

@Mockingjay

 

[Mordeth Anjiliac]

«Baukau gai che wa bmala da wohot tee nem ree janse,» Mordeth remarked. «Hocan fa nah doth bu noobie wa yae gee bihmhepa mi. Jee lwaa adtahia uba chahsa cay lhonu chalanh, Damon Kross.»

It was not hard to fathom what Kross was asking. He wanted Mordeth's backing against Black Sun. The backing of the Hutts was no small endorsement, and she was the second most powerful Hutt in the Cartel. Her endorsement would make Black Sun think twice no matter who was leading an assault against them. But Mordeth was aware of this. She did not give out her support so easily. Even to smugglers she liked. Humans had a way of squandering their short lives. She needed to see this man in action before she was willing to bet on a life so short.

But she didn't have the chance to tell him this. An alarm sounded from the cockpit. The kind of alarm that generally signified they were coming out of hyperspace. Which meant they had finally arrived at Mon Cala. Very well, then. Test number one would be the planet below. If Damon Kross could get her spice passed security and to the dealers she'd set to meet them there, she would at least keep him on her radar as someone she could potentially endorse to take on Black Sun. This she could at least hint at for him.

«Fa ban bacaka jeejee gee bauiakiy.» she said. «Jot ten neu haku dan see ulwan uba doth.» @Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Damon bowed to Mordeth and excused himself. He stepped into the cockpit and patted Beegee on the dome.

"Good work buddy, I'll take it from here why don't you go recharge."

The little droid warbled exhaustedly and rolled out of the cockpit toward Crix's room. The miasmic undulation of hyperspace evaporated as The Freebird disengaged it's hyperdrive. The mottled blues gave way to the starscape and hanging front and center out of the ship's viewport was their destination, Mon Cala.

So far, everything had gone according to plan. He hadn't committed any crimes in the calamari sector, but taking precaution was the name of his game, so, he'd made sure to have a clean transponder ready for the scan as they came across planet security.

Crix reached for his comm and hailed customs.

"Mon Cala customs state your business, and forward your credentials."

"Copy that credentials forwarded. I'm transporting medical supplies to aid in planetary relief."

"Roger that, Simple Man," The false identity he'd used, "You've been flagged for cargo scan. You'll be escorted planetside momentarily."

Crix didn't hesitate. Any misstep here would lead to further scrutiny. These guys were just doing their job and he knew if he made it as easy for them as possible they'd miss something, he just hoped it was the drugs.

"Copy that, boss. Always knew I was lucky."

The customs agent chuckled, "Yeah, we've had to up the checks thanks to the attack, it's been a real pain. It's quick we'll have you in and out in no time."

Crix thanked him for his time and then cut the comm. Out the viewport, he could see two mon calamari engineer starships heading in their direction. He was hailed and given instructions to follow, so, he did. Thirty minutes later they were on Mon Cala in New Coral City's space station, and Damon was lowering the cargo ramp to his ship. He was calm, his veneer of professionalism was front and center and an easy smile adored his face just below his rose-tinted glasses. This was gonna be a piece of cake.


To his surprise, the proceedings happened with the procedural grace of drying paint. The Mon Cal customs agents looked tired. It was clear they'd been overworked and understaffed. It's funny how terrorist attacks will do that to people. After a lackluster screening, they were cleared. Damon signed on the line and the agents shuffled away, off to check another ship. Crix watched them go as the line of ships they'd have to check today continued to swell.

A wry grin played across his lips.

Once the shipment was handed off, he turned to Mordeth and said, <I look forward to our next deal, your grace. I mean this sincerely, I greatly enjoyed our time together.>

He made his way back to The Freebird, he wasn't leaving just yet. there was something to be learned from a planet in chaos. Something he planned to utilize very soon.

//Thread

@Mockingjay