Xohhar paced back and forth across the barren living space of his bolthole in the Lower Industrial Sector, something he'd been doing since waking up the previous afternoon with the cloying taste and scent of Bacta overwhelming his senses. Once an office perched above the warehouse and landing bay of a small Duros-owned shipping company, the whole building had been condemned after a series of fatal accidents culminating in a platform collapsing into the Undercity carrying the owner's son with it led to the company going out of business - one of the more tedious sabotage jobs the Falleen had taken on to prove to his father that he was ready for more off-the-books work on behalf of White Star's interests, but it had been worth the three months of subtle sabotage to remove a possible future competitor before they could prove problematic. Purchasing the condemned building for wupiupi on the peggat and transferring it through intermediaries and shell companies until it was lost in the shuffle of Nar Shaddaa's infamously lax bureaucracy left Xohhar confident that it was safe from discovery by even the most dedicated forensic accountants employed by White Star Enterprises... if only he could say the same about his other assets.
Two weeks ago Xohhar was the heir to a powerful House and a successful and thriving business with more credits than he could have hoped to spend in a lifetime, two younger siblings to dote upon, an Uncle who pushed him to improve and a Father who supported him to achieve whatever he put his mind to. When Bixby pulled him out of bacta tank yesterday he'd thought - hoped, prayed it had been a dream, but it was all over the Holonet; 'Industry Titan and Heirs Murdered - Lone Survivor Xolan K'liir to take the reins at White Star Enterprises.' They didn't mention how they'd been settling down after dinner, him knelt beside the twins helping them solve the latest encryption puzzle their father had assigned while his Father and Uncle Xolan sipped at Tarisian Sunsets and traded barbs over the stock price at close that day when the gunship swooped over the balcony and dumped two squads of black-clad soldiers onto the Skyhook, or how his Father was shot throwing himself forward to cover his children. They didn't tell how the servants were gunned down like livestock as they tried to shield them from the attackers as they raced toward the lower landing platform where their Uncle's ship could bring them to safety.
They didn't tell about how Xolan K'liir drew a pistol and shot him in the back before executing the twins with an expression of utter satisfaction on his face.
Xohhar grit his teeth and clenched his hands into tight fists as the now-familiar surge of rage crashed over him, the furniture in the room creaking and shaking impotently around him as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. Stalking into the fresher and ignoring the way that the floor-length mirror rattled and started to crack around the edges, Xohhar knelt and looked at himself for the first time since he'd awoken and saws the features he had in common with ghosts; grey-blue eyes that he shared with his younger siblings - a gift from their mother - and long silken black hair styled in an ornate topknot just like his Father. He let out a slow breath, eyes brimming with unshed tears as the cabinets warped and spiderweb like cracks raced across the surface of the mirror, then drew the knife from his belt and shut his eyes as he gripped his hair tightly and sheared through the knot at the base with one definitive swipe. Rising to his feet in one smooth motion Xohhar held the shorn hair to his lips and closed his eyes, whispering a prayer to whatever gods may hear to protect the souls of the dead - that they would find peace in the afterlife - and then dropped the hair into the sink before striking a match and walking out with the smell of burning hair wafting on the air behind him.
Revenge was the purview of the living.
Dropping heavily into his seat at the desk tucked into the back corner of the living space the Falleen called up the holographic display and started swiping through newsfeeds, his eyes darting from screen to screen as he fished the new EZPhone out of his pocket and dialed a number. After two rings the call was answered, a gruff voice in Huttese demanding a name.
"Tarbeck, it's Xo." A hissed breath and silence followed before the request for a video call flashed onto the screen. Tapping to accept the Falleen kept a neutral expression on his face as the Ardennian information broker appeared on the holo, a lit cigarra balanced on his lips and a pained expression on his face. "Xo... pal, you're ali-" The Falleen cut him off with three words, voice sharp and cold as glass; "Did. You. Know?" The Ardennian shook his head, all four hands lifting in a placating gesture, "No, this came out of nowhere. I'd heard that the Karghas and some underboss in Black Sun had been meeting about something big, but I had no idea K'liir was the target... or that Xolan was involved. Hand to heart, I'll swear it on my mother if need-be, I promise you I didn't know."
Letting out a ragged breath, Xohhar sunk into his chair and waved Bixby forward from across the room, the BX droid placing a datapad in his hand. "I'm... glad to hear it. But sympathies will have to wait. I'm leaving Nar Shaddaa, but all of my accounts were frozen and the only reason I have my gear is I'd left it all here following that job in Centrality. I need you to find me a second for a Warehouse job - someone discrete, someone you trust not to kriff me over given half the chance. Security will be tight and it's going to take another slicer assisting me to get through the countermeasures, but it should be lightly defended once we're inside. The haul will be in material goods, electronics, weapons, and spice. Most of the loot can be split between the hire and your finder fee, I'm just trying to get to The Pride before my un- Xolan has him wiped and enough credits to get to where I'm going. Do you have anyone who fits the bill?"
Tarbeck hummed quietly, one hand rubbing the back of his head while an other stroked his chin in thought even as the other two began to fly across a holographic display. "I might know a guy, let me put some feelers out; I'll let them know you've got inside experience with warehouse owners but I won't say how. Meeting place will be The Bucking Ronto cantina on Level 43, I'll be in touch."
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Two days later Xohhar found himself sitting in a corner booth with a clear view of the entry and exit to the cantina, his coat closed over his armored rancor leather vest and his vibrosword leaning next to him and an untouched cup of Juma juice sitting on the table before him, fat beads of condensation slowly rolling down the side. Tarbek had told him that he found a likely candidate, but the other slicer wanted to meet before agreeing to show up to a job sight unseen. A sharp prod of a manipulator arm at the back of his shaven head and a string of Droidspeak made him turn and regard Oracle with a flat stare.
"If Tarbeck were going to betray us he wouldn't have waited a few days and sent us to a Cantina on his Level. Anyone finds out the Neutral Broker took sides, he's out of business. Beside, Bixby's outside if there's any trouble. We'll wait... for now."
@Apollyon
Two weeks ago Xohhar was the heir to a powerful House and a successful and thriving business with more credits than he could have hoped to spend in a lifetime, two younger siblings to dote upon, an Uncle who pushed him to improve and a Father who supported him to achieve whatever he put his mind to. When Bixby pulled him out of bacta tank yesterday he'd thought - hoped, prayed it had been a dream, but it was all over the Holonet; 'Industry Titan and Heirs Murdered - Lone Survivor Xolan K'liir to take the reins at White Star Enterprises.' They didn't mention how they'd been settling down after dinner, him knelt beside the twins helping them solve the latest encryption puzzle their father had assigned while his Father and Uncle Xolan sipped at Tarisian Sunsets and traded barbs over the stock price at close that day when the gunship swooped over the balcony and dumped two squads of black-clad soldiers onto the Skyhook, or how his Father was shot throwing himself forward to cover his children. They didn't tell how the servants were gunned down like livestock as they tried to shield them from the attackers as they raced toward the lower landing platform where their Uncle's ship could bring them to safety.
They didn't tell about how Xolan K'liir drew a pistol and shot him in the back before executing the twins with an expression of utter satisfaction on his face.
Xohhar grit his teeth and clenched his hands into tight fists as the now-familiar surge of rage crashed over him, the furniture in the room creaking and shaking impotently around him as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. Stalking into the fresher and ignoring the way that the floor-length mirror rattled and started to crack around the edges, Xohhar knelt and looked at himself for the first time since he'd awoken and saws the features he had in common with ghosts; grey-blue eyes that he shared with his younger siblings - a gift from their mother - and long silken black hair styled in an ornate topknot just like his Father. He let out a slow breath, eyes brimming with unshed tears as the cabinets warped and spiderweb like cracks raced across the surface of the mirror, then drew the knife from his belt and shut his eyes as he gripped his hair tightly and sheared through the knot at the base with one definitive swipe. Rising to his feet in one smooth motion Xohhar held the shorn hair to his lips and closed his eyes, whispering a prayer to whatever gods may hear to protect the souls of the dead - that they would find peace in the afterlife - and then dropped the hair into the sink before striking a match and walking out with the smell of burning hair wafting on the air behind him.
Revenge was the purview of the living.
Dropping heavily into his seat at the desk tucked into the back corner of the living space the Falleen called up the holographic display and started swiping through newsfeeds, his eyes darting from screen to screen as he fished the new EZPhone out of his pocket and dialed a number. After two rings the call was answered, a gruff voice in Huttese demanding a name.
"Tarbeck, it's Xo." A hissed breath and silence followed before the request for a video call flashed onto the screen. Tapping to accept the Falleen kept a neutral expression on his face as the Ardennian information broker appeared on the holo, a lit cigarra balanced on his lips and a pained expression on his face. "Xo... pal, you're ali-" The Falleen cut him off with three words, voice sharp and cold as glass; "Did. You. Know?" The Ardennian shook his head, all four hands lifting in a placating gesture, "No, this came out of nowhere. I'd heard that the Karghas and some underboss in Black Sun had been meeting about something big, but I had no idea K'liir was the target... or that Xolan was involved. Hand to heart, I'll swear it on my mother if need-be, I promise you I didn't know."
Letting out a ragged breath, Xohhar sunk into his chair and waved Bixby forward from across the room, the BX droid placing a datapad in his hand. "I'm... glad to hear it. But sympathies will have to wait. I'm leaving Nar Shaddaa, but all of my accounts were frozen and the only reason I have my gear is I'd left it all here following that job in Centrality. I need you to find me a second for a Warehouse job - someone discrete, someone you trust not to kriff me over given half the chance. Security will be tight and it's going to take another slicer assisting me to get through the countermeasures, but it should be lightly defended once we're inside. The haul will be in material goods, electronics, weapons, and spice. Most of the loot can be split between the hire and your finder fee, I'm just trying to get to The Pride before my un- Xolan has him wiped and enough credits to get to where I'm going. Do you have anyone who fits the bill?"
Tarbeck hummed quietly, one hand rubbing the back of his head while an other stroked his chin in thought even as the other two began to fly across a holographic display. "I might know a guy, let me put some feelers out; I'll let them know you've got inside experience with warehouse owners but I won't say how. Meeting place will be The Bucking Ronto cantina on Level 43, I'll be in touch."
----------
Two days later Xohhar found himself sitting in a corner booth with a clear view of the entry and exit to the cantina, his coat closed over his armored rancor leather vest and his vibrosword leaning next to him and an untouched cup of Juma juice sitting on the table before him, fat beads of condensation slowly rolling down the side. Tarbek had told him that he found a likely candidate, but the other slicer wanted to meet before agreeing to show up to a job sight unseen. A sharp prod of a manipulator arm at the back of his shaven head and a string of Droidspeak made him turn and regard Oracle with a flat stare.
"If Tarbeck were going to betray us he wouldn't have waited a few days and sent us to a Cantina on his Level. Anyone finds out the Neutral Broker took sides, he's out of business. Beside, Bixby's outside if there's any trouble. We'll wait... for now."
@Apollyon
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