[HUTT BOUNTY] A Fistful of Credits

[T.J]

Zonju V. A world as backwater as one could get save for the wind swept dunes of Tatooine. Just as desolate, with a sprinkling of organized crime and fanatical zealots in place of tribal Tuskens. It was a war torn place, one that had once held the promise for redemption at the hands of a small band of men and women who felt the right way was better than the more lucrative way. Unfortunately for those who had chosen to live on the desert planet, those days were long gone. With the Cartel making power plays all over the planet and the existing criminal organizations either fighting back or bowing down it was safe to say hope was the last thing on people's minds. Death and fear had become the day to day for the inhabitants of Zonju V, a fact Rook hoped he could at least partially alleviate with his actions.

Staring down at the city below, his brown leather duster blew in the wind as a grimace seemed to be plastered to his face. He wore his normal attire, nothing too fancy or eye catching. A tan button down with a blackish hued denim vest over the top. Complimented by unassuming pants and boots he was far from eye catching. Taking one last pull from the cigarette in his mouth, he flicked the still burning end straight down into the dirt before grinding it into the dirt with his boot.

It had been years since he last stepped foot on Zonju V. Partially to prevent stirring up bad blood, and partially to try and forget the reminder that his own redemption had been so easily flushed down the drain. Now under a new employer, the gunslinger once again found himself walking the impoverished streets. Personally he didn't much care for how the Hutts handled their business on most occasions, this time however he was able to see some of the good he might bring to the lives of the people he felt partially responsible for. Removing the Cartel's opposition would mean the gang fighting and turf wars would stop. People would be able to go back to their lives, relatively speaking of course. They would for the most part be the property of the cartel, but they wouldn't have to worry about being shot up by cross fire during the night, or having to choose who to pay protection money to. Rook was able to take some solace in that fact, how ever meager it was.

Though he was sent as an envoy of the Hutt cartel, none would know. Being that he was relatively new on the scene under their employ and coupled with the fact he had spent more than a decade freelancing on his own. His missions success rode on that fact alone. Plenty of folks went freelance, the ones that survived always seemed to fall into one crowd or another. This behavior was what Rook was planning on exploiting. Since he was sure none would know of his past deeds with the Cartel, he could easily blend as a simple man seeking employment with any group he needed. At least for the time being. Word would get around fast should he succeed with his current mission. Rook doubted he'd be able to pull off the same tactic again.

He had been sent to Zonju V to root out one Jenna Dupree. Sources stated she was a member of the Exchange, one of the only criminal organisations on the planet who had been able to withstand Cartel influence. Their compounds were all heavily guarded, especially so during such violent times. Getting in without being turned into a pin cushion would have been impossible if he had chosen to enter through force. Rook was a practical man however. Work smarter not harder was an adage he often recited during his many escapades throughout the galaxy.

Rook wouldn't even need to draw his revolver to get in. In fact, they'd open the door for him.

 

[Gaja]

In a private room a certain woman was having a cup of tea while she "enjoyed" the view. She didn't like this world one bit and had every intention of leaving as soon as she was paid her money. It wasn't money that brought her to Zonju V however, it was losing the trail of bounty hunters that were after her in Hutt space. After the whole Davik situation went south and the crime lord got killed Jenna Dupree fled Nar Shaddaa. Wisely so because just hours after leaving the planet a bounty was placed on her head. A hefty sum too, for some. She hated it... They used a terrible picture too. Ugh...

As she continued to stare out the window while waiting on her tea to cool of the woman smiled gently, remembering back who it was that she shot on her way out. The big time bounty hunter Vica V. Or the Heartbreaker as she was known in the business. She wondered how the zeltron femme fatale was doing these days... She also wondered what her friend Talia was up to these days as well...

Jenna Dupree also used the alias 'Sugar', information that the Cartel hadn't yet obtained and shared with every bounty hunter out there. So she was careful about revealing her identity these days... But if things went as they should she'd be on her way to Naboo in a few days and leaving all this crap behind her.

---

Meanwhile in a certain Cantina on the other end of town a couple, ok a gang, of people that looked like they were gang members or just simply up to no good could be found. There were recruiters for gangs, thugs, not a lot of girls but sure as hell a lot of alcohol and weapons. Luckily there wasn't enough tension to mix it all together as the Cantina was somewhat far from the Cartel turf, so for now things would look intimidating but calm enough to enter. A prime spot to find information if one knew how to do it.

Generally the best bet was always to seek out the bartender for information about the locals. In this case a middle aged human male wearing a white t-shirt and gray pants. He was a big boy too, short dark beard, black pony-tail and tattoos on his arms... Zonju V style bartender...

 

[T.J]

As Rook made his way through the city streets his eyes wandered along the rows of run down shops and derelict looking structures that made up the cities slums. Sure Zonju wasn't the best place back in the day, but it certainly had seen better days judging from what Rook witnessed as he trekked further into the city. It seemed the gang violence was taking its tole on the lives and businesses of the people who were either forced or had chosen to stay. For whatever reason this spurred the gunslinger at a slightly faster clip, fueled by the hope that his misdeed would bring some good after all. Many stopped to look in his wake, though none tried to pull anything against him. Rook always did have a look about him that made it look like he always had somewhere important to be, he figured to just made people less interested in holding him up from whatever it was. The six gun on his hip was a pretty good deterrent as well though.


Finally coming to a stop, he took a wide stance with his hands resting on his hips as he looked over the establishment before him. From the signs it appeared to be some sort of cantina, although it was hard to tell due to the condition of the structure. Several rough looking individuals loitered around outside the building, whether they served as guards or were merely wasting time Rook could not be sure. Though either way it didn't really matter to him. Stepping up onto the wooden platform the cantina sat on and out of the muck and dirt, he gave his hat a slight tip as he pushed past the men and into the building.

He was met with a dimly lit single room, complete with a small bar along the entire side of the far wall and a somewhat open room filled with dingy tables that looked like their better days were far beyond them. It was fairly populated as well, many a smuggler and bandit seemed to fill the small room. Some stopped with their card games with his entrance, while others completely ignored the new comers arrival. Slowly stepping up to the bar his eyes roamed over the group of faces, looking for any that might be familiar. His gaze finally stopped on the bartender himself, who looked a head taller than Rook and at least a hundred pounds or more heavier. Opting to merely lean against the bar rather than taking a seat, he tipped his hat back slightly to better see the bartenders face as he spoke through his iconic drawl.

" Howdy. How bout ah drink? " Glancing behind the mountain of a man briefly. " You folks got any whiskey? "

 

[Gaja]

A curious eyes brow was raised by the bartender at the new arrival. Why, one might ask? Well normally he wouldn't look twice at him, but the guy had six guns on display. Talk about commitment as a gunslinger, or faulty equipment, or being a show-of. The bartender was called cynical by some, though he liked to think of it as being a realist. Be that as it may he went back to doing his job and said nothing, customers were customers, regardless how goofy or aggressive they were. And so with a bit of a sigh the man did some work behind the counter, although he too had some weapons stashed in there like any seasoned bartender. This was Zonju V after all.

The bartender was a big man, but not exactly working out regularly either as evidenced by his gut. He still had quite thick arms and this look about him that made people think twice about not paying their tabs. The man offered a brief nod and within seconds produced a bottle with some golden/brownish liquor inside and a small glass. He wasn't in any sort of rush to do it though, he simply knew where everything was and reached out to get it. He was out of ice though, but he said nothing.

Pouring the newcomer a shot he once again closed the bottle and put it away while the glass was put in front of the man with the 6 pistols. Looking around the bartender looked away from Rook and back at the bar and certain individuals. Some of them were looking at the Cartel bounty hunter, while most ignored him by now. "It's none of my business but you should know that you've been marked. Watch your back when you leave." The man said in a dark manner and took a few steps to observe the patrons, making sure none leave before paying.

He saw two guys eyeing Rook, thieves and muggers. Probably looking to steal his guns and sell them. Another one just looked at him and sized him up, while another guy who was involved with gangs and recruiting also kept his sights set on the new arrival. In the bartender's experience, this wasn't good for the new guy, so he went out of his way to let him know about it. "Tch..." He was pretty good with faces, and with names too. Yet this new guy, he didn't know him but he couldn't shake the feeling he saw him somewhere before...

 

[T.J]

Taking a moment to glance down at the glass set before him, Rook nodded as he lifted the glass and downed it's contents. He didn't care that the drink was without ice, growing up on Tatooine he had learned to enjoy his liquor without it. Setting the empty glass back down he let out a sigh that almost sounded like one of relief. Meeting the bartenders eyes once more he spoke.

" Well that's mighty kind of yah friend. " Rook said as he slid his empty glass forward indicating he wanted another shot.

" Names Rook. Used 't run with the Waste Rangers before they got slagged. Freelance games got a might bit slow, thought ah'd come back and see who'd be willin' 't pay for ah quick gun such as my self. "

Slowly he peered over his shoulder towards the men the bartender had mentioned. They were easy to pick out of the crowd for sure, especially with the way they were eyeing him so intently. Taking a second to remember their faces, he turned back to the bartender to continue his little sob story. If the two thugs so much as stood from their seats he would be sure to put a new hole in each of them before they could make it across the room. Instinctually his hand fell down to rest on his directly beside his belt buckle, ready to drop to his six gun at a moments notice.

" Any idea who that'd might be? "

 

[Gaja]

The man looked over Rook's shoulder, this ever stern look on his face as he surveyed the bar and its patrons. Clearing his throat briefly the man didn't focus his eyes on the former Ranger but certainly made a comment about it. "You don't say. You used to roll with them? I heard they got hit pretty bad." Taking out the bottle and pouring the man another one, this one on the house, the man added.

"But that's Zonju for you. But yeah if you're looking for work, you shouldn't have trouble finding it here. The gangs are always recruiting, though they don't really pay that much, unless you're either really good or really famous. The Cartel and the Companies are hiring too, but they're more difficult to get in to. What kind of work did you do so far?" The man asked as he took a glass in to his hand and whipped it several times, mostly out of habit but also to keep his mind alert. He had been here for over eight hours now...

 

[T.J]

Frowning ever so slightly Rook accepted the free round with a nod. Passing the glass back and forth between his hands he decided to continue to converse with the barkeep rather than down it immediately.

" So ah here... Was doin' a job fer em out of system when it all went down. " Going against his original decision he downed the glass, hoping the amber liquid would help ease some of the more unpleasant feelings that seemed to always well up whenever his thoughts drifted to those days.

" Damn shame if you ask me. " Lifting the glass again the gunslinger idly inspected the glass. It would look very much like he was simply using the glass as a means to escape boredom, in actuality Rook was using the bottom of the shaped glass to scope out the room behind him somewhat without actually turning completely around. His focus remained on the object in his hands, even as he continued to speak.

" There's not much work ah haven't done t' be honest. Anythin' requirin' a good aim and quick shot. Don't much care for them Cartel types. Got no moral fiber between the lot of em. Exchange might not be any better but Ah'm sure they pay well. "

 

[Gaja]

"Mhmmm. Aye, the Cartel and the Exchange do pay well but I wouldn't mess with either of them. You hear all sorts of stories about both of them. The Exchange having nothing but psychopaths who have no honor or sanity in their heads... and the Cartel... You see how powerful they are, with their guns and men, and at the top of the organization it's all monsters and legends from the war. Like that guy who was here not long ago. That massive Hutt and his Kushari gladiator, and then that mercenary gladiator. I wouldn't want to work for those guys, you see in their eyes that they are a different breed. Even here we don't have slaves, and then breed them to become the next generation of gangsters. But yeah that's just me... If you want to work for the Exchange, and avoid the Cartel, then that dude behind you is the man to talk to. The one eyeing you all this time. He recruits new talent, the Duros. Name's Gallat I think, not sure though."

Realizing that he went on a bit of a rant The man looked to the side as two new patrons took their seats at the bar, and went on to serve them. While he did enjoy talking to someone who didn't try to rob him, right away at least, he still had a business to run here. And it wasn't like Rook had anything stopping him from leaving either. After he paid for the drink that is...

 

[T.J]

This time Rook fully turned to view the room behind him. Sure enough a Duros of questionable origin seemed to be trying to bore holes into the gunslinger with his eyes alone. Giving the alien a nod he whipped back around to the bar, dropping several credit chits down onto its wooden surface. The amount was more than enough to pay for the drinks and then some, a gift of sorts for the bartender being so willing to part with information as well as for what Rook was about to do. Giving the bartender a tip of his hat and a genuine smile he stood from his perch of a barstool and turned to the room behind him.

Stepping forward as if to make his way out of the building, his hand dropped to his six gun in a flash of movement. Before the thugs that had been eyeballing him even knew what was happening two deafening shots rang out within the walls of the small establishment. Both would find they each had a new hole adorning their chests, a sight which caused the sparse crowd to largely vacate the premises. This left the only people that really mattered to the gunslinger still present, the Exchange recruiter and the bartender.

Spinning his gun once over he deftly dropped the weapon back into its holster before casually walking over to the Duros. Setting down in a now empty table across from the alien, Rook pulled a cigarette from within the folds of his duster and placed it in his mouth as he began to speak.

" Here you work fer the Exchange partner... " Lighting the cigarette, he inhaled deeply. Letting the smoke pour from the side of his mouth as he continued. " Hows about we talk business? "