Ask Of Pigs and Twi'leks.

[Telo Nass]

The Sith had found himself on Nal Hutta in search of his parents, he had long been separated from them and hadn’t seen them since he was a small boy. After gathering some intel, it had led him to Feagon Riz a two bit nothing spice dealer but he apparently knew where Telo’s farther, Marsh Nass was.

Slowly walking through the busy casino planet, he headed to the ‘rough end’ if that was even possible. Telo wasn’t sure if it was the smell of desperation, poverty or drugs he could smell in the air but either way it reeked. The Sith Champion donned a dark grey poncho over his darkened clothes so he didn’t stand out so much as a Sith, they weren’t exactly welcome across the galaxy and they often turned heads he didn’t particularly want the attention.

There stood at the end of a street corner was a skinny, pale blue twilek he wore a red silk shirt and a short black jacket and next to him stood a large fat gamorrean with a vibroaxe over his shoulder. Obviously the muscle.

Telo continued to walk forward, rather than being his usual confident self he lowered his posture and acted a little nervous “Uh.. hello, are you Feagon?” asked Telo, the Twilek narrowed his eyes and looked at the man “Who’s asking?” Telo raised one of his hands “Ohh, yes sorry! I’m throwing a party and I’m bringing some friends from work… oh.” He laughed loudly “I’m sure you don’t care about that, but I heard you’re the guy I could speak to about getting some, um.. stuff.”

Feagon snorted, chuckling softly “You got credits?” Telo nodded desperately “Yeah yeah, lots of credits! I can pay whatever you want.” The Twileks laugh slipped into an ominous smile, seeing he had a sucker and said “Sure thing, follow me.”

Feagon, the gamorrean and Telo walked around the corner and down a quiet alleyway. With their backs to Telo, the chuckled as they we’re about to pull out their weapons and mug Telo. As they turned around, a blaster was aimed at directly at Feagons head, his eyes widened as he glared into Telo’s realising he’d made a mistake “Where is Marsh Nass?” he said coldly, his fake voice washed away.

The gamorrean squealed as he pulled back his axe “Move a muscle you snorting nerf herder and I’ll blow out your bosses brains and then yours, understand?” he barked aggressively “Now where is Marsh Nass?” he yelled, anger swelling over the sith.

 

[Crix Dolan]

Nal Hutta was glistening cesspool of obese slug supporters. It's population had been nearly decimated by the AMS outbreak, but still, they refused to give up their Hutt overlords. Even now they many refused to evacuate or take a vaccine. Instead, they remained loyal supplicants of the glorious engorged ones.

Crix lit a cigarette.

The Smuggler had been with the syndicate for a bit and was close to moving up the ladder. He'd proven he could secure politicians for the organization, now he wanted to show he could bring muscle. Crix had always been a jack of all trades, but if he wanted to take his revenge in this lifetime he needed to keep pressing.

There were a number of bounties on the Proletariat Bounty Board that called for the death of Hutt Cartel members, but Crix wanted to do more than just rid the galaxy of a few slugs. Durr's entire cabal deserved to pay for what they'd unleashed upon the galaxy. In his mind, it was the only way to get the syndicates back into working order.

As The Smuggler passed an alleyway a name stood out to him.

Mash Nass.

Nass was the name of the contact he was supposed to be meeting with today. A low-level grunt in the Cartel's ranks that was looking to trade up the ladder for a little chat. He took a drag on his cigarette, debating on whether or not he should step in, but playing the hero never worked out for anyone. So, he kept moving. As he crossed the alley he picked up the pace. If Nass was marked, the Hutt's might be on to Crix'as well and he didn't like the thought of that.

@Lacarix

 

[Telo Nass]

The Twilek scoffed and Telo’s question, his blue tendrils flicking back and his eyes narrowed “Do you know who you’re messing with? You don’t get to ask me questions.” His words spat out venomously, it dawned on Telo that perhaps he’d bitten off a little more than he could chew. Feagon was obviously more than a two bit spice dealer otherwise he wouldn’t have so much courage when faced with a blaster pistol.

“I’m talking to you, where is he?” barked Telo, not backing down. Within an instant the large green pig like being swung down the vibroaxe at the Sith Champion who tried to side step, pulling the trigger of his blaster out of instinct. A green light flashed out, ripping through the flesh of the gamorrean who’s heavy body slumped on to Telo as the pair fell on to the ground. Feagon wasted no time, running off into the dark and out of sight.

Telo dragged himself out from under the heaving dead body, sighing loudly with annoyance he had no intention of killing anyone and now he’d leave a trail to himself. Luckily the alleyway was pretty isolated and it would be a while before anyone found the body at least. There was no point taking chase, Feagon was long gone. Telo would need to find him though.

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Crix closed in on the rendezvous point. A diner on the outskirts of a Hutt palace belonging to Magha Desilijic, mother of none other than Nor'baal the Hutt. With the chaos of the Zaa Fenn and the ever-weakening syndicates, it would benefit Crix immensely to put as many of these slugs on his good side as possible. Magha would prove useful in that pursuit.

He crossed the street and entered the diner. A human with ruddy hair and sunken eyes fit the description he'd been given. Crix approached and sank into the booth across from the man. He clutched a diner mug with hot coffee like it was his soul attempting to escape his body.

"Nass, I'm assuming."

"That's right. Kross?" asked the man.

Crix nodded. He'd taken to operating under an alias and was enjoying the anonymity it afforded him.

"Let's be quick about this. I want into the palace, can you do that?"

Nass nodded, "I can, but what will it get me?"

Crix shrugged, "Depends on what you want?"

Marsh contemplated that a moment. He looked exhausted and hopeless, but upon asking Crix couldn't help but notice a little color seemed to seep back into the man.

"Off-planet and ten thousand credits."

Crix chuckled, "I can get you off-planet, but you're not getting ten."

Nass started to protest, but before he could get a word out a Toydarian waitress fluttered over, "What can I get you, fellas?"

"I'll buy Nass, get what you want, I'll need a minute."

Nass ordered the special and Crix got steak and eggs.

"Seven."

"Seven? C'mon."

"I'm risking my life to get you in, how in the hell do I know you'll succeed?"

"If you don't think I can do it, why are we haggling?"

Nass took a sip of his coffee.

"Three," said Crix.

"Six," replied Nass.

"What are you doing that's gonna earn you six?"

Nass took time to think that over. Their food was delivered, Crix cut into his steak and took a bite.

"I'll cut the security," Nass stated.

Crix cocked an eyebrow, "You had my attention, now you have my interest. Five."

"Five?"

"Five."

"Done."

They shook. Just like that Magha Desilijic's life was in danger. Granted for a being wanted for killing her husband he doubted this was the first attempt on her life, and if he failed it wouldn't be the last. Life in the syndicate was cutthroat, you either held the blade or gurgled while it was drawn across your flesh.

Crix took the final bite of his meal and tossed a wad of credits onto the table. Nass had finished his food long before, and his eyes lingered on the credits just long enough to show his desperation.

"If you betray me... Crix looked away while tapping the butt of his RSFK-44, Well, I'll let your imagination explain. Here's my frequency, I'll be close. Don't fuck this up, Nass."

@Lacarix