Ask The Wolf and The Worm

[Rafe]

The Wolves Den
Sleheyron​

Rafe had been here before, in this exact situation, seated at his desk, in his private sub-basement office, finishing up some last minute reading and paperwork on the Pyke's most recent operations and transactions. Things had definitely come a long way since he'd taken over the head of the Pyke Syndicate, their future was left very uncertain when the ISC stole Kessel from under their feet whole Carr Pyke was still around. If it weren't for Rafe the Syndicate probably would have fallen to pieces, reduced to some babbling street gang on some trash inner rim planet... no, Rafe would never let that happen.. Under his rule they'd risen to a shadowy powerhouse, running all of the major slave trade outside of Hutt Space.

Tonight's special event would see @Nor'baal Desilijic within the walls of The Wolves Den once again, security had been doubled, and the bar and brothel staff had been padded as well for the night. None of the public was allowed in, and all space was reserved for members of the Syndicate and their guests.. the Hutt Cartel. Some low ranking members had arrived early, probably sent ahead by Nor'baal to make sure it wasn't some sort of elaborate trap, cause spilling Hutt blood in his own home could possibly have been a risk Rafe would take.. though Rafe could relate, there was a special new found paranoia that came with being the leader of one of these such criminal organizations, with every low ranking member hoping to hit it big by possibly taking out the current leader..

Rafe made sure the man he set as a manager was fully aware of the importance of this night, and had the confidence he'd take care of it. Along with the increase in security, Rafe also had tons of the Pykes in attendance here, just in case... there's that paranoia again..

Rafe pressed a button on his desk and the door from his office to the VIP area opened automatically, sliding into the walls out of sight. One of the guards from outside peeked his head in, awaiting orders, Rafe and Nor'baal would have their meeting down here while their men enjoyed the accommodations provided on the upper floors.

Just past the guard Rafe could see the small cages that housed various live small creatures the hutts preferred as snacks, along with a table piled high with various food and drink. Notify me when the Hutt arrives and escort him down here to the VIP area.. Rafe would say, not appearing to be expecting a response.

Rafe returned to his screens, his pet planet operation had been booming, as they had been farming the planet for every available slave they could pack into their ships. Much like the strip mining that happened on Kessel, Rafe was certainly strip slaving this poor planet. But the profits rolled, and that's all that mattered. Unlike the hutts Rafe hadn't steered the Pykes to take many permanent, stationary, brick and mortar, assets, in fact quite the opposite, with exception of his pet planet that was way out of the way which next to nobody had even heard of, most, if not all of his operations could be picked up and moved, save of course for The Wolves Den..

Snuffing out a death stick, Rafe stood from his desk and made his way into the VIP area to await the Hutt, exhaling smoke as he walked his massive frame through the doorway over to one of the thrones that sat on either side of the food piled table.. he was a gracious host to say the least..

@Nor'baal

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

Sleheyron was a world on which Nor'baal felt quite at home. Indeed, whilst it had been some time since he led the efforts to return the world to Hutt Space after the Sleheyroni Hutts had decided to try and go it alone, the Hutt Mogul felt as if it was only yesterday he had been here.

Nor'baal had spent a week on the planet catching up on the plans to expand the world's spice-mining operations, having arrived on the earth in his yacht, the Glorious Jewel, sometime earlier. So he was somewhat shocked to hear from the Pyke Clan again. Nor'baal presumed the one who sent the invite had been killed in some internal struggle. Rafe was not a member of the species from which his syndicate drew its name, and it was an eternal source of confusion to Nor'baal about how he had managed to rise so far under those conditions.

However, rise he had. And so, when the invitation to meet came in, he called up his sail barge and made his way over to the Cantina.

As ever, the Hutt did not travel alone. As the number of attempts on his life had risen, so had his paranoia.

With a deep hum, the engine of the sail barge heralded its arrival outside the Wolves Den, flanked by two skiffs. Aboard the Skiffs, a dozen nikto armed with blaster rifles could be seen, whilst the barge itself contained the bulk of the Hutt's security. With a thud, the entrance ramp to the barge dropped down and out stomped rank after rank of armoured Gamorrean Guards, brutal-looking axes in their hands and savage pistols at their hips. Behind the Gamorrean phalanx came Nor'baal himself, born aloft on a palanquin, with liveried enslaved humanoids holding banners proclaiming his numerous titles, marching alongside their bowed brethren who bore their Hutt masters seat.

Behind them came another Phalanx of Gamorreans. Each phalanx took a position to either side of the Hutt, who stationed himself outside the Cantina, even as the canon atop the sail barge adjusted itself to aim at the Cantina entrance.

Quite simply, Nor'baal was showing off. And he wasn't entirely done yet.

A pair of muffled roars came from within the barge, heralding the arrival of two rancors, kept in check by their handlers, each of the fantastic beasts bonded to the Hutt. They took up positions to either side of the mighty formation as Nor'baal gestured a slave forward to the space between his entourage and the Cantina.

The slave, a nervous-looking Rodian wearing a tabard sporting the Desilijic sigil, produced a datapad and read from it in a deep voice.

"Rejoice! For you stand in the presence of Supreme Mogul, Lorda Nor'baal Desilijic Fa'athra, Potent and Glorious Guide of the Clans, Eminent Amoungts Hutts and Master of the Clans." it paused as if for dramatic affect, its proclamation clearly well-rehearsed "Offer your tribute to his Majesty, and explain upon bended knee, who dares summon the Supreme One to this destitute public house," the messenger sneered "- as if calling some lesser-being to tend upon their bedside!"

The Rodian snapped the datapad shut, and stepped back.