Just Another Day in the Life

[The Kyzer]

Fear. The entire moon reeked of it. How sentient beings could stand to live in the foul deeps of Nar Shaddaa, she'd never understand. While one of her own safe houses rested on one of the lower levels of the Hutt-controlled moon, hers was kept in a constant state of impeccable cleanliness by multiple droids. Mjolla walked the lower streets at a brisk pace, seeming to try and outrun the filth.

To any who saw her, tonight, the assassin would appear as just another denizen of the deep dark. Her standard combat attire was covered by a huge trench coat and wide-brimmed hat. Both were purposefully stained in a few areas to give them a more dingy feel. Underneath the coat, however, Mjolla wore a veritable arsenal of weaponry. Twin ST-3 Ripper Pistols at her hips in quick-draw holsters, a vibroblade short sword down her spine, a Mandalorian HCR across her chest, and a heavier Lawbreaker pulse rifle across her back. A trio of G10 hand grenades lined her belt, along with spare ammunition and a pair of vibroblade knives. A single SC40 detpack sat low on her back. Her typical assortment when heading into a firefight. She also used her patented dummy-arms, cheap plastic limbs that could fill the sleeves of her coat while she hid her actual arms underneath and nearer to her weapons.

As the woman neared her destination, a pair of large thugs blocked her path. Two Trandoshans, actually, armed with large repeating blasters, and they looked angry.

"Halt, woman," one demanded. The other hefted his weapon, pointing it toward Mjolla.

"Please," Mjolla scoffed, not stopping, "I'm here to see Garrit. He's expecting me."

The Trandoshan aiming at her hesitated a moment, his aim faltering. It was just long enough for Mjolla to draw one of her pistols, poke the end of the barrel out from beneath her coat, and fire twice. A slug entered each of the Trandoshans' reptilian skulls while the assassin simply continued her forward progress. She knew that her target's little gang would have a spotter backing-up these guys, and simply waited for him to move. She saw a small Chandra-Fan raise what looked to be a commlink to his mouth, but the assassin did not hesitate. A knife flew from beneath the woman's overcoat and buried itself in the short sentient's eye-socket.

Then Mjolla halted, turned around, and retreated. She hired a taxi and rode to the opposing side of her destination. It was public knowledge that her target had a hidden safe house somewhere on Nar Shaddaa, but few knew where it was. The slightly humorous thing was that Mjolla did know because she'd picked it out for him. It was an abandoned warehouse, with a hidden basement level that doubled as a bit of a fortress. She'd even plotted the defensive arrangements for the warehouse/safe house, as Mjolla herself had used Garrit on a previous job. In return for his services, Mjolla had utilized her extensive knowledge to aid in the small-time gang leader's defensive arrangements, on top of what she was paying him. It was sheer irony that it would be Mjolla herself that would be hunting the Nikto.

Now on the opposing side of the warehouse from where she started, Mjolla approached the gang compound relatively casually. While she may have arranged for the defenses herself, Mjolla did not have a hand in picking the gang members. At the first sign of a threat, the guards would converge on the enemy's location. Predictable. As such, Mjolla simply walked to the warehouse, only stopping once to silence a straggler.

Outside the warehouse, Mjolla planted the detpack in a weather-drain next to the rundown main entrance before running around to the other side. She scaled the side of the building with a pair of magnetic grips, and was soon staring through one of the thin transparisteel windows. While the majority of the "outer" defense guards had rushed to attack her, or where they thought she was, the "inner" guards had diligently maintained the defenses for their compound.

"Predictable," Mjolla muttered quietly, shaking her head as she activated the detpack's detonator.

 

[The Kyzer]

The warehouse was lined with thousands of crates, most of which Mjolla knew were empty. It, after all, was a key part of her security design. The entrance to the safe house itself was actually hidden inside one of the stacks of crates. She also designed the layout with a few hidden guard houses built into some of the larger boxes. That said, all of that beautiful design didn't matter in the slightest when the detpack's explosion ripped the main entrance apart.

All of the hidden guard positions flared to life as gun emplacements opened fire on the gaping hole. Mjolla smiled as she cut a hole in the thin transparisteel with one of her vibroknives. A minute later, the female assassin was lurking through the warehouse as silently as possible. Not that it really mattered, though. The guards were still firing on the blasted doorway. After nearly a minute and a half of continuous firing, the guns went silent while some of the closer guards advanced on the damaged door. This gave Mjolla enough time to locate the hidden entrance and flip the secret switch. Suddenly, loud alarm klaxons sounded and huge searchlights kicked-on. Apparently, Garrit had added-in new features.

Mjolla cursed and sprinted off the direction she'd come from. The shouting of guards could be heard faintly over the blaring klaxons, so the woman knew they were closing-in. Thinking quickly, she drew her short sword and cut a hole in one of the crates. She hopped in and replaced the freshly-cut circle. The assassin could hear guards stomping by her hiding place.

"This is mildly annoying," Mjolla mumbled softly and she sat down in a corner of the surprisingly roomy cargo container. She drew one of her ST-3 Ripper pistols, and waited.

 

[The Kyzer]

Twenty minutes later, the female bounty hunter was still squatting in the hollow cargo crate, biding her time. Every few minutes or so she'd hear a guard pass by. Her chronometer slowly ticked the time away while she waited. Deciding to be a little productive, Mjolla pulled out her datapad and began scanning the comm channels. She finally picked up the frequency the guards were using, and filtered it through her earpiece.

"Anyone find anything?" a gruff voice asked.

"Got nuthin' here, boss," a new voice replied.

"Well, fark," the first voice cursed, "Guess whoever it was ran off."

"Or we vaped him," a rather smooth voice quipped.

"Or he done blowed himself up with his own explosives," the second voice offered.

"Either way," the first voice answered, "He's gone now. Let's get this place cleaned up. Xerck, call the maintenance crew."

"Yessir, Rork," the second voice replied.

Mjolla shook her head at the sheer stupidity of these wannabe gangsters. The logical part of her brain scoffed at the idea that someone could be completely vaporized by blaster fire without leaving the barest of traces, while the emotional part found it laughable that these guards thought they could harm her.

The female hunter replaced her datapad in her satchel, but kept the comm-channel open so she could monitor it. Moving slowly but with a measure of surety, Mjolla removed the piece of crate she'd cut earlier and exited the storage unit. She moved silently through the warehouse after replacing the crate piece until she ran upon a lone guard. A split-second later, his life-signs flickered then faded after a vibroblade knife was embedded in the side of his skull. Mjolla stashed the body in a dark corner before moving on.

"Anyone seen Matty?" Rork asked on the comm channel. A smattering of "No"s filled the channel as Mjolla crept along. Then she heard Rork's voice in her earpiece and her free ear.

"Stupid boy probably fell asleep again," the apparent guard overseer said at length, "Remind me to dock him for his pay tonight. That ought to teach him."

Mjolla slid around the corner to see a tall man wearing battle armor facing away from her. He brought his hand up to his right ear and began speaking.

"Did you get ahold of that maintenance crew, Xerck?" the large man asked. Mjolla took advantage of the man's booming voice to creep up a few meters so that she was a mere two feet from him. She registered Xerck's reply in the recesses of her mind while she raised her pistol up to the big man's head. The assassin saw the man's body stiffen, but a quick hiss from her lips stopped him before he could make a move.

"Now, now, Rork," the woman whispered, "We wouldn't want you to do anything you may regret later, or in your next life."

"What do you want?" the brute asked in a gruff whisper.

"Garrit," the assassin answered, "And you're going to tell me how to get to him."

"And why would I do that?" Rork asked in reply, "You're just going to kill me anyway."

"Eh, I thought about it," Mjolla admitted, poking the large man a bit with her pistol's barrel, "But I'd prefer not to. Have you seen ammunition prices these days?"

She saw him nod in acceptance and issue a quick, "Fine, this way," before he began walking. They made their way to the hidden door Mjolla had approached before, but instead of flicking the switch, Rork pressed his hand against a crate, causing a slight depression in the once-solid container. A soft beep was followed by a door sliding open to reveal a turbolift.

"Thanks," Mjolla said before pistol-whipping the large man. He was out-cold before he even hit the ground, but Mjolla was already moving on. However, before she left, the assassin drew one of her G10 grenades, attached one of Rork's belt loops to the safety pin, and primed it. That way, when someone moved the big man, or he himself woke up, there would be a nasty surprise waiting.

Riding the turbolift was yet another boring experience, but a much more worthwhile one. Finally, Mjolla was near her target. Before the door opened, however, Mjolla hefted herself up above the lift's door frame and used the walls as leverage to hold herself up. The door opened with a soft ding, but nothing else happened.

"What the kriff?" Mjolla heard, then the comm channels were filled with a voice she recognized.

"This is Darksaber," the deep masculine voice said, "Rork, is the turbolift malfunctioning?"

No answer. For three seconds, Mjolla waited with abated breath. She waited for the opportune moment. The click of a commlink activating was her signal.

"Hey, Ror-" the "Darksaber" demanded, but was cut-off by the sight of a woman suddenly appearing in the lift. He recognized the woman, and began to ask how in the blazes she'd gotten there before he saw the ST-3 pistol pointed at his face.

"Oh, so it was you," the Nikto said, finally understanding his predicament. Fear flooded his senses, but he managed to keep it together visibly. He left hand slowly snaked toward the hidden button underneath his desk. It activate the two autoturrets that were hidden in the walls.

"Yes, it was me," Mjolla answered, "So I hear you've been a bad boy, Garrit."

"It's Darksaber now, assassin," the gangster replied, "And what's it to you? And why did you kill my guys and blow up my front door? That's just rude."

"You pissed off the wrong people, this time," Mjolla answered blithely, "so they sent me."

"And that's supposed to intimidate me? I know who you really are, remember? And though you may be one-step ahead, you're two steps behind me!" the Nikto spat. His hand was so close to the turret-switch that he could practically taste it. In a quick burst, he flipped the switch, and the cannons flipped out of their hidden recesses and swiveled to aim at their master's enemy. However, to Garrit's great surprise and dismay, the turrets did not open fire.

"Hey Garrit," Mjolla stated with a smile, "Remember when I set up your defense systems, including the IFF targeting on your defensive turrets? They recognize me as a friend, which is a bit funny I think. So you may be two steps ahead of me, but you lost before we'd even started."

Mjolla smiled slightly, and aimed her pistol. The shot wouldn't be heard by the guards above, but in the small chamber, the echo was astounding.

 

[The Kyzer]

Garrit fell back into his desk chair while the blood splattered on the wall behind him. The dark liquid contrasted greatly with the stark white walls of the office.

"You piece of schuta slut," Garrit spat through tight-lips, "You cheap prostitute from hell. You aren't worth the DNA-material your father deposited into your mother's womb!"

The wound on his left shoulder dripped blood at a steady rate, but it wouldn't be lethal for some time now. Mjolla was a true master of her weaponry, and could write a veritable symphony with a blaster, or one of her Ripper pistols.

"Why Gar," Mjolla said with feigned innocence, "What an ugly thing to say! I abhor ugliness. Does this mean we're not friends anymore?"

The assassin slowly approached the wounded Nikto and smiled.

"You know, Garrit," she continued with a slight smirk, "if I thought you weren't my friend...I don't think I could bear it."

Garrit looked at the assassin with all the malevolence he could muster, and tried to draw the slug thrower hidden beneath his chair. He finally got his fingers around the weapon, and quickly retrieved it from the hidden holster, the sound of metal scraping bantha-hide leather filling the silence. Too bad Mjolla was faster. She slid across the desk, drawing her special shortsword as she did with her free hand, and slashed the weapon away while pressing the tip of her pistol into Garrit's bullet wound with her other hand. The pain caused him to drop the ruined weapon. The metal banging against the floor was sweet to Mjolla's ears. It was the sound of victory. The assassin calmly removed her pistol from the Nikto's wound and holstered it.

"There," Mjolla declared, "Now we can be friends again."

Garrit, now operating on instinct like any other wounded and trapped creature, mustered the strength to swing at Mjolla with his right arm. She deftly leaned back, causing the fist to barely miss her, and savored the feeling of the displaced air grazing her face. Then she hammered her cybernetic right arm into Garrit's face, knocking him and the chair over to the floor. She then hopped off the desk and picked up the Nikto's fallen pistol. She examined the weapon for a moment, then simply placed it in a small carrying pack she kept on her backside.

"Guess not," Mjolla said with a sigh, "Oh well. There's someone who wants to talk to you. Let me get him for you."

Garrit, himself, huddled in a corner in a fetal position. Mjolla turned toward the desk and activated the desk's holocomms. She quickly punched in the routing address of the bounty's contract-poster, and waited for his answer. She honestly doubted the Hutt had anything better to do, but the assassin couldn't be sure.

"Borga, I have someone here you've been wanting to meet," Mjolla finally declared to the holoprojector, and turned the device's sensor towards the injured Garrit.

"Borga, meet Darksaber. Darksaber, meet Borga."

 

[Just Matt Now]

The transmission that came through to Borga's palace was set as urgent. Having gone through the necessary protocols, being a first time receiver, it was not flagged and had been permitted to pass through. The Hutt was sitting atop his throne, as usual, enjoying his palace and army of slaves. A fight was ensuing, for his pleasure, between two of his upcoming gladiators. Though was interrupted once Wor Niedra had alerted Borga of the message. With a simple raise of his hand, both gladiators stopped their action, turned to their master with a robotic bow, and led themselves out of the throne room. A transmitter rose form the ground not a couple feet from Borga's throne. Rising to his eye level, the video played the live stream of Mjolla and her guest.

"Mjolla, you have done well."

Being their first business together, this was more of Mjolla gaining the Hutt's trust before they actually opened up to further and more profitable business.

"Ahh, Darksaber. You should have known better than to mess with my business. Oh, Miss Mjolla. I hope he is doing alright, I would hate to see my friend here pass so soon." The hint he gave was clear that he wanted Mjolla to inflict pain, though to be honest nothing she did could add up to the amount of mental and physical torture he would inflict upon him. He was pleased with the speed and efficiency in which Mjolla conducted business. He was sure that this would not be the last time they would work together, or she would work for him.

"I do hope that you have a transport. If you need, I can send something over to pick the both of you up. I want this Darksaber to myself, and my medical staff before my gladiators can get to him. Just give me your coordinates and a transport will be there my dear."

 

[The Kyzer]

Mjolla smirked slightly and switched the holoprojector's sensor to follow-mode before she spoke.

"I aim to please," the hunter replied casually.

Looking over at her injured quarry, Mjolla carefully considered the Hutt's words. By her estimation, the Nikto had maybe twenty to thirty minutes of consciousness at his current rate of blood loss, with another thirty minutes of life.

"Well, Borga," Mjolla answered, "He'll live long enough, but...wait...hold on one moment."

The assassin drew her HCR and walked over to the injured Garrit. She fired once into his right arm, disabling that limb. He cried out in pain, which was only increased when Mjolla shot once into each of his feet. The injury-locations were explicitly nonlethal, and served another purpose: heating up the barrel. Her finishing touch was to place the hot barrel against the shoulder wound, cauterizing it to staunch the blood flow. Garrit's screams only stopped when he lost consciousness from the pain.

"Alright," Mjolla finally said, "He'll live. And we'll need transport. I walked here. Your men should be able to get the address from this unit. I'll leave it on so you can establish a proper trace. I only ask that you have your men here in ten minutes. Things are going to get a bit tense around here."

Then she heard shouting over her earpiece, and realized that she hadn't properly dispatched the guards. Oh well, that could wait.

"See you soon," Mjolla said to the Hutt's hologram before shutting off the sensor. While the call would not end, the sound and visuals would cut out. The assassin then got back to work. She found a hidden computer inside the Nikto's desk, and quickly sliced it with her datapad. Banking accounts and routing numbers, detailed "protection" rackets, and other interesting information scrolled across the screen. Mjolla quickly copied it all to her datapad, then ran a purge program, wiping the information from the computer.

It was at that moment that Mjolla sincerely wished she had more explosives.

Or do I?, Mjolla thought absently, and began running through the building's schematics on her datapad. After a few seconds, she found what she had been searching for.

 

[Just Matt Now]

Even as they spoke, watching Mjolla proceed to shoot the Nikto in nonlethal areas, he had Wor pin point their location. Fortunately they were close enough that Borga was in no need of rush. Though still he sent out the transport, along with a Dashade guard to help cover their exit. Though the Hutt took great joy in watching the Nikto suffer, even if it was just momentarily.

It was clear to the Hutt that Mjolla knew what she was doing. Her skills seemed to have been very well endowed and would certainly place her on Borga's list if they were to make it out of their alive. Of course, Borga was in no danger, though it seemed that Mjolla still had to plan for her escape. The Hutt ordered for the transport to hurry, and made sure that they had enough firepower to get them out of their alive.

The transport was sent directly from the palace of Borga himself. Two expendable Dashade guards that were both under Borga's employ would rush to the coordinates given to them from Wor's scan. They would arrive in short time, though enough time for something severe to happen to either Mjolla or Darksaber. The importance of their goal was a simple extraction, though they were skilled guards and would provide Mjolla with the help that she needed.

 

[The Kyzer]

Accessing the building's power systems was simple enough to Mjolla after she plugged into the building's control lines with her datapad. She easily disabled the fail-safe mechanisms surrounding the building's alternate power supply, a small power generator that had been added per her recommendations in the event of a power failure, or the power being cut. The fail-safes were easily disabled because she had written the coding for them. After installing a program that would activate upon her command, Mjolla called the turbolift. It was at that moment that a sudden rumble shook the building, and the hidden safehouse below.

"Looks like your men have found my party gift," Mjolla said to the barely-conscious Nikto, "Let's go see how they're doing, shall we?"

Grasping the injured gang leader's left arm, she dragged him into the turbolift and tossed him into the cramped lift. After that, she joined him after pushing in his errant limbs. Pressing the lift-control button, Mjolla hummed to herself softly while drawing her HCR. She attached her datapad to her leg with repulsor-clips, and waited impatiently.

The inner doors finally opened to reveal ruined outer doors. The right was mostly gone, while the left was hanging partially out of its casing. Beyond that, the assassin could see several rows of crates still burning, along with a few mangled corpses. She kicked the unhinged door, removing it completely from its housing, and grabbed Garrit with her left hand. She wielded the HCR with her right and scanned the area. Shouts for help from some of the uninjured guards were nearly drowned out by the cries of pain from their downed comrades.

The female bounty hunter quickly pulled her quarry from the lift with relative ease (he couldn't really fight her at all, anyway), and continued onward. A guard rounded the corner loudly, but didn't seem to notice the woman dragging his employer a few meters away from him. He did notice the trio of blaster bolts ripping through his side and back. The bounty hunter increased her speed into a trot, bouncing the injured Nikto behind her. He began to scream in pain, but a quick whip of her rifle to the side of his head silenced him.

That's when she felt a sudden rush of warning fill her mind. It was a strange feeling she'd gotten several times throughout her life which had saved her from ambushes and traps. It felt a bit different this time though, like the danger wasn't directed at her. That's when she spotted the two Dashades approaching her through the ruined front entryway. The huge gaping hole easily accommodated the pair, along with the massive heavy repeaters they bore. They then unleashed the destructive firepower of their heavy weaponry, but not at her. A group of surviving guards had rounded the corner behind her, but were quickly cut down by the wall of blaster bolts unleashed by the Dashades.

"Miss Varneslan, I presume?" the first Dashade asked after the guards had been eradicated, "We're your escorts."

"Who sent you?" Mjolla asked skeptically.

"Our lord's name is Borga, and it is he who sent us," the second Dashade answered.

"Good, let's move then," Mjolla relented, letting a bit of her anxiety out with a sigh, "Did you bring a ride? This bastard's getting heavy."

The guard's transport, an old but well-maintained QH-7 Chariot, appeared from around the corner and stopped a couple meters in front of her. The two Dashades grabbed Garrit and tossed him in, while Mjolla herself, along with the vehicle's defensive cannons, covered their retreat. She slowly entered the vehicle and shut the outer door.

"Where are we going?" Mjolla asked calmly.

"Directly to our lord's palace," the first Dashade answered quickly, "It is not far."

"Good," Mjolla answered flatly, "I hate long car rides."

The assassin then unclipped her datapad and pressed the large prompt key that appeared.

Execute?​

After thumbing the button, the command program she'd set up earlier activated. The secondary power generator activated, despite there already being a steady flow of outside power, and quickly built up its output to catastrophic levels. A few seconds later, the device exploded violently. It wasn't enough to obliterate the warehouse, but it was enough to wipe out all traces of the underground safehouse below, and started a rampaging fire in the building above. The explosion did register within the quickly fleeing armed transport, which caused both Dashades to turn toward Mjolla.

The assassin merely smiled and in an innocent tone said, "What? It's not like we needed it anymore."

 

[Just Matt Now]

The explosion held little concern to the Dashade guards. As long as Mjolla didnt turn on them, which she wouldnt, their job was to extract her and bring her and the Nikto to Borga safely. And that was what they did. Always looking back, always making sure they werent followed, the short ride proved to be ended within a half an hour as the transport arrived at Borga's complex with no resistance. It was clear that no clearance was needed, they were expected, and while defenses were raised, they were not needed. Fortunately, they were not followed, and the defense of their safety was no longer needed. Though the transport drove right up to the palace entrance.

The Dashade guards relieved Mjolla of the pressure of carrying the Nikto. They followed behind her, dragging the limp body of Garrit, his feet straggling against the steps as they walked up the palace, and through the halls. Reaching Borga's throne room, they threw Garrit's body right next to Mjolla's feet. It was her capture, it was her target, she would be the one to present Garrit to the Hutt.

The Hutt was pleased to see that all was well, and that Garrit was caught. Though he was unsure of whether or not he was alive. There had been instances where bounty hunters brought him dead targets, though the price may have been lowered, the stake may have been too high to keep them alive. Although he did not dismiss his guards just yet. There had been a situation in the past where a bounty hunter had brought back a target he presumed to be dead. The bounty seemed to come to life, firing a blaster randomly in Borga's throne room. Needless to say the bounty had been killed on the spot, although not without taking a chunk out of one of Borga's slaves. Ever since, the Hutt hadnt trusted anyone with his safety.

"So, this is the famous Darksaber...pathetic!"

Borga wanted him alive.

"You have done well Mjolla. Your payment..." The Hutt waived his hand. A Dashade guard came out from the recesses of the throne room holding a velvet red pillow with golden tassels. On top of the pillow was a small datacard. The guard kneeled before the bounty hunter and raised the pillow up to her. "The card holds information of an unidentified and untraceable account. You should find your twenty two thousand credits deposited into the account."

"I hear you have encountered this scum before. Must have made it easier to reach him." The Hutt wanted to know what connections Mjolla had with the target. If they were friendly, this might have been an ambush, though he severely doubted it. Chances are their relationship had ended with this final encounter. Borga was still on the fence about what he was going to do with Garrit. His disrespect could not go unpunished, though what punishment was in the air. Chances are he would give him five fights in his arena...he wouldnt make it passed one.

 

[The Kyzer]

Mjolla caught the probing question, and debated her answer for a split-second. Revealing the full extent of her connection might make him more suspicious of her than he already was, but denying was even more dangerous. So, truth it was then.

"He was an asset I utilized about eight years ago," Mjolla answered calmly, "Garrit sniffed out a bounty for me who was hiding in the lower levels, and in return I personally designed his entire safehouse and the defensive arrangements for it, along with a fair finder's fee. That was the full extent of our relationship until the fool decided to actually steal from a Hutt. One could only imagine my surprise when I learned that it was a Hutt Lord as powerful as you, great one. I had even lectured the scum about sticking to safer ventures."

To be honest, the assassin deeply hated having to use such ridiculous titles and flattery, but she'd learned long ago that it was a necessity when dealing with the Hutts. They tended to be a bit touchy regarding their egos. That said, Mjolla had no intention of using it more than the bare minimum.

"I also thought that this might be of worth to you," Mjolla continued, pulling out the datapad in a slow, deliberate manner as to not worry the Hutt or his guards, "It's a detailed listing of this idiot's bank accounts, as well as the protection racket he'd set up. With both combined, I'm sure you can recover your losses from Garrit's thefts as well as my payment. However, I do ask for a moment of your time."

The bounty hunter handed the datapad to one of the Deshades for Borga's later viewing pleasure before continuing.

"There's a business venture that I believe both of us would profit from," Mjolla added with a slight smirk, "but would admittedly profit me more in the long term, but you in the short term."

Then, in a blatant effort to increase her standing with Borga by inflicting pain on an enemy and proving that Garrit was, in fact, alive, the woman stomped on his left leg, right on that limb's wound. The doomed captive cried out in pain as he was suddenly ripped from his unconscious state by the torment.

"I mean, I did bring him in alive after all," the woman finished.

 

[Just Matt Now]

It was always a shame when an asset turned into a problem. You never expect it and when it happens you just start regretting ever helping them in the first place. Though it seemed that her past had helped her capture the target, which essentially landed Mjolla a small fortune. Borga listened intently, he always liked to know how his bounty hunters finished the job, and this Mjolla certainly seemed to know what she was doing. She was a front line type of soldier, one who wasnt afraid to get her hands dirty, something the Cartel always had room for. Though as it were, she was also ambitious, another quality the Cartel admired. Coming to the Hutt with a proposition, especially right after finishing up the contract.

Watching Garrit writhe in pain brought certain joy to the eyes of the Hutt. A smile forming on his lips, though his curiosity had swayed his attention. Mjolla trying t buy his attention with the small pleasure. Though he heard her out regardless.

Having not the need, nor desire, to continue in endeavors that would land him short term profit, he thought a change of pace might help his estate. Having recently come into a load of credits due to his partner Jack Tamblyn, he did not need quick money as of right now. Though, he was more interested in making ties with this Mjolla. Certainly she would be useful in the future.

"You are ambitious. I like that." The Hutt stood up from his throne, a few slaves backed up to give him room. Slithering over to the top of the steps, the large Hutt started to descend. Not a few seconds later, he was standing in front of the woman, towering over her with a glass of ale in his hand.

"So what did you have in mind?" He said as he leaned over to watch the pained Darksaber continue to suffer.

 

[The Kyzer]

Mjolla made sure to keep her hands open and easily viewable. Couldn't have anyone misinterpreting her moves now, especially while their master was in such close proximity to her.

"A joint venture," Mjolla replied, "A corporate takeover really, but I need your resources to pull it off."

The assassin didn't quite trust the Hutt to lay out her full plan yet, as he could feasibly sweep the entire plot from beneath her and take it for his own. However, she could tell him the general overview.

"There's this planet with a large amount of assets," Mjolla began, "that is dominated by a single corporation. The shareholders are few and relatively equal in terms of stock and ownership. Now, gaining actual control will require some coercion, some of which will be financial, some of which will be a bit more physical. I need your aid in that area. In return, I'll offer compensation for the materiel provided, at interest of course, and five-percent of stock acquired."

Mjolla blatantly left out the name of the planet and the corporation, as well as the actual assets the planet possessed, which was mainly mining. An entire asteroid field's worth of mining, plus the planet itself, which also had valuable resources.

Her foot was still firmly planted on Garrit's wound, so she ground her toe in slightly to cause a new outburst of pain-filled wailing.

 

[Just Matt Now]

Borga could easily sense her distrust, or not distrust, but lack of foundation for said trust. Either way, Borga understood quite well. It seemed like a fine opportunity, though depending on just how much resources, 5 percent sounded like a low figure. The Hutt took another sip from his glass, the last gulp before smashing the glass over Garrit's head.

There were certainly a few details that borga would need to know before starting all of this. He couldnt go around starting trouble for the Cartel. Things were tight right now, especially with the Empire being so close to Thyferra.

"Let me first ask you. The location of this...is it in or near Imperial or Bothan space? We also have to build on this trust thing Mjolla. Such a vague proposition makes me want to turn it down."

The sting of proposing a joint venture, with Borga owning only 5 percent of the stock reverberated in the Hutt's mind. Mjolla was certainly ambitious, but there was a point where she could act too ambitious. The Hutt feigned interest, despite the fact that he was. It sounded fruitful, though he was definitely not getting the right price. Combined with the lack of details, the Hutt was sure she was hiding this corporations true worth.

 

[The Kyzer]

The light-skinned woman felt a small twinge of pleasure when Borga's glass shattered over Garrit's skull. She could also feel the tinge of reluctance that had entered the Hutt's mind when he asked his question.

"While it is closer to Bothan space than Imperial," Mjolla replied with a measure of calm, "it is neither claimed nor even thought of by the Bothans or Imperials. Nor is it in Hutt space, either. However, more than that I am unwilling to divulge at this point in time, as it would clearly jeopardize my own position in this discussion. I know that you understand the dynamics of the deal better than I, so I must retain as much information as possible."

The assassin added a slight chuckle at the end of her declaration. She knew that Borga wouldn't be pleased with a mere five percent, but she'd low-balled it to keep him off-balance. They were in negotiations now, which was something Mjolla did know a thing or two about, but never truly felt comfortable doing alone...and without leverage.

"But I realize that you would be hesitant to engage in such a partnership without a bigger slice of the proverbial ryshcate, so I'm willing to negotiate the financial-end of the plan with you."

 

[Just Matt Now]

The Hutt had a much better view of the situation knowing that it wouldnt affect any major party directly. This meant that they were free to do what they pleased without much restriction. It was clear that Mjolla held her trust to tight circles, though they way she went about it only made Borga share the feeling. The Hutt smiled after Mjolla had finished. She wasnt like any other bounty hunter he had dealt with, she was more abrasive in the way she handled business. If Borga had been foolish, he would have fell into her little trap of handing him the five percent. Though even she knew that that was not going to fly.

"Fifty percent. That is my offer."

Saying nothing else, he knew that if Mjolla went to another Captain, if she could land a meeting with another Captain that they would drive her for much, much more. Especially Jack. The man would want at least commanding ownership of the company, Borga felt that he was doing her a favor going in 50/50.

 

[The Kyzer]

Mjolla wasn't the least bit surprised in the Hutt's counter offer. Yes, it was high, but it could have been much higher. She expected that it was due to the Hutt not actually wanting to haggle with her. She wasn't really in the mood to do so either.

"Fifty Percent," Mjolla agreed, her calm demeanor unwavering, "But I have controlling stock. You'll get your money and steady income flow, but I have final word on any business decisions. That said, your opinions would be taken into consideration with a great deal of gravity that a Hutt like you deserves."

Her right eye brow arched as she waited for the Hutt's response. The assassin knew that Borga was her best hope for this venture, as the other Champios would simply take her to the cleaners if they even paid attention to her at all. On a more deeper level, she even worried that even if the operation was a success and she acquired all that she wished to that Borga might turn on her if he felt she was too large a financial threat to his personal empire.

Mjolla immediately dismissed that idea as a complete impossibility. No matter what happened, if Borga came through for her now, Mjolla would forever be in his debt, and the assassin never forgot a debt. Though twisted, warped, and invisible 99% of the time, the bounty hunter did have a code of conduct that she adhered to. As such, Borga would never need to worry about Mjolla trying to usurp his power.

 

[Just Matt Now]

Borga felt comfortable with that deal. This way, he had almost none of the responsibility, and nearly half of the profits, just what he wanted at a time like this. It waslt like he was coming to her with this idea, he was content with her ability for the task she had completed. This was something new altogether.

"That will work."

He already knew the women and her skills as a bounty hunter. She could get the job done and he shower his appreciation through his pocket, though this was something different. They would embark on a new proposition and take it on as partners instead of one being an employer. His trust and loyalty to his partners went as far as the amount of credits they got him. Though he had zero intention of trying to take any power from Mjolla.

"So, you gunna tell me what the deal is or what?"