Ask Blackmail

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

Nor'baal was doing what he loved to do the most ... tallying up his profits. The Hutt scoundrel bent over his datapad, his stubby fingers instructing the machine to calculate the percentage returns, minus his own prestigious expenses of course, of the recent ventures its owner had been engaged. The resulting figures made the Hutt laugh <Ho, Ho, Ho...> in the solitude of his inner sanctum on the Glorious Jewel.

No other living creature was present in the room, on Nor'baals protocol droid, and erstwhile servant, who stood in a shadow laden corner in total silence, waiting until its corpulent master beckon for its to approach.

Nor'baal considered the graph again, and let out a soft growl. Just over one hundred years of age, the Hutt had already lived beyond the span of many of the 'lesser' species in the Galaxy. Yet, for all his bulk and years, he was still considered young by the standards of his species and made use of his own considerable muscle to move around his sanctum. Of course, he had made allowances to purchase a sled to support him, for when he wished to look more magnanimous, and that expense reflected in the graph now in front of him.

But Nor'baal was more excessive than many considered, and the purchase of a sled was not enough to satiate his desire for luxury.

His yacht boasted of all manner of foods, for Nor'baal was nothing if not a gourmet, but his most prized possession of late was something he saw great potential in. Huddled away in an undisclosed location, catered to by a collection of his associates, the great Hutt had acquired a new slave.

Nor'baal had seen the boy first at a society event on Coruscant, in the shadow of a powerful Senator from a wealthy trade planet, both scions of the House Brentioch, and had made the decision that he simply must add the boy to his collection. He was not, like some Hutts, so debauched as to desire the boy for himself - no - not when there was money to be made from his internment.

And that is why the Desiljic shall only succeed, Nor'baal thought. Lesser Hutt families lack the foresight to know that a little privation now, can net a great reward later.

Of course, when he had contacted the boy's parents, Nor'baal had been affronted to not even get a reply. Apparently, the 'Great Houses' did not care to engage with the Hutts, and cared little for their second-born sons. Yet it was of no consequence, for the great Nor'baals mind would not be stumped by a little parental rejection.

His mind tracked back to that night, when they had nabbed the young man from his speeder and secreted him away. An older man, young by Hutt standards but an elder by the fleeting lifespans of the humans - Uncle Claudius.

Nor'baal knew that this man would pay for the release of his nephew, and so he had arranged to meet him, to discuss 'the ongoing crisis affecting the Hutt worlds', neglecting to inform the aged Ambassador of the fact he, Nor'baal the Hutt, had his own nephew in chains.

Soon, Nor'baal thought, I shall so many credits that I will be able to wipe that smug little smirk off Preefs face for good. None of the Clans will be able to stand against me, soon, Desilijic will rule unopposed...

Nor'baal snapped out of his mania, and instructed thumbed the commlink next to him. <Cohou Bacdotobay Tanar... bu bacdotobay du.> he relaxed into his hoversled, and lit his hookah, his hand brushing over the hefty RSKF-44 pistol concealed in it. The thought of breaking this human down, and holding the threat of harm to his family over him, caused the Hutt to laugh once more, as the man was shown in. <Ho! Ho! Ho!>

 

[Tristodd Brentioch]

Tristodd didn’t know what happened until it was too late. In a second he was driving back to his apartment after a meeting of the New Republic Senate, in another he was attacked by a group of strange people and ended up stunned. When he woke up, the young man was in a cell somewhere with a chain in his right ankle.


At first he was afraid. Sometime after he woke up, a male Twi'lek arrived to bring him some inedible food and told the young man that his boss was going to ransom him to his parents. After he left, Tristodd hugged his legs, hid his head in it and started to cry. He was so afraid. He wanted his parents, his brother and uncle Claudias. He wanted someone to save him.


The Brentaalan didn't know how much time passed with him crying this way, but at some point he heard footsteps approaching and then opening the cell. Two beings were at the door, a human and a nikto, both males and ugly like a rancor. They had maniac smiles on their faces. While they approached, Tristodd backed away, hitting his back in the wall.


"Your parents really don't care for you, did you know? They refused to talk with the boss, even after he said that we have you." the human said. Tristodd's eyes widened. It couldn't be true, his parents would not abandon him. "Lucky to you, your uncle seems far more concerned. But the boss is really mad with your parents, so he wants to send a message to them through you." the man had a predatory grin on his face, he approached the Brentaalan and held his chin. "You are really pretty. It's sad that we will need to torture you, I would prefer to have another type of fun with your body. Perhaps the boss will let us play with you if your uncle doesn't pay the ransom." he laughed while rubbing his thumb in Tristodd's lower lip. By this point he was shaking with fear while more tears fell from his eyes. My parents abandoned me to be tortured. It was the only thing that his mind could think at the moment.

The human released the young man from the chain and held his right arm, while the Nikto held his left. Then they started to drag him out of the cell. Tristodd started to struggle, trying to free himself. "No!" he screamed, the Brentaalan's fear made him use the Force. The ugly human was throw against the wall, hitting it with a sickening sound. Tristodd could feel the pain and fear coming from the man. Differently from the other times that he felt someone's emotions, the young man didn't feel nauseous. On the contrary, he enjoyed feeling the other's pain. After all, he deserved that. However, his musings were interrupted by him being stunned by the Nikto. He fainted.

Tristodd woke up in a chamber. He was with his hands and feet tied to a table. There was several objects in the wall that probably were used for torture. The Brentaalan also noticed that he was barefoot. He heard the door of the chamber open and a male Weequay started to approach him. Tristodd struggled, in a vain attempt to free himself. The Weequay picked up something from the wall and approached the young man "Let's begin."

Soon, Tristodd cries of pain could be heard in the corridors. After a while it was possible to hear words between the screams: "Daddy", "Mommy", "Reegian", "uncle", "help" and "stop". His body was beaten, cut and burned for what seemed to be an eternity. The Weequay also humiliated him verbally when in his pain Tristodd started to call his parents.

Some time later, Tristodd was thrown back in the cell. His whole body hurt, bleeding in several places. His clothes were destroyed. The young man dragged himself with his arms until he reached a corner near the wall of the cell. He wasn't crying or afraid anymore. The only thing in his mind was hate. Hate for these people that did it to him. Why mommy and daddy allowed them do this to me?

@Nor'baal @Tom

 

[Claudias Tannaras]

He'd been home for a few weeks, just beginning to recover from his injuries. The doctors had told him that even with bacta treatments, he wouldn't be walking again for at least two months. He'd considered crutches, but his early experiences with leg braces made him averse to the idea. It was eventually a wheelchair that he settled on; with two canes strapped to the sides for support.

All of it seemed so trivial now. Everything else had been scattered to the wind when the reports came in. His schedule, any plans he had-- all of it was put aside.

Tristodd had been kidnapped.

The details provided were precise, and the demands were simple. The boy's life had been threatened multiple times, with words like "assured suffering" putting emphasis on the boy's fate if his parents didn't comply. His twitching hands had started to tremble violently as he began to imagine what was happening to him.

He was in a shuttle now, bypassing public transport for the first time in years. Hell, he was bypassing speeder transport, on his own world. The droid pilot was violating about a dozen different traffic laws as the shuttle tore across Brentaal's skies, Cormond outstretched beneath them. Pensively, he'd stare down, down at the sky traffic, and further at the buildings. He'd watch as opulent mansions turned to midsized apartment buildings, and those apartment buildings turned to slums, and than to abandoned industrial hell.

He desperately hoped that the coordinates were correct. Wheeling himself out, he exited, flanked on his sides by about a dozen droids. Surrounding the building were plenty of armed guards, belonging to a variety of species mostly native to the outer rim. Two stood in front of the main entrance, blaster pistols visibly hanging from their hips. Claudias wheeled himself over, droids following closely behind.

He was visibly shaking, both from his condition, and from fear. He wasn't afraid for himself, however. Had he not been to Firrerre and faced death head on, witnessed the crumbling of bodies and the senseless genocide of innocents, he might have had hesitation. But he'd come to terms with his death before, and right now, his wasn't the one he was worried about.

He was worried about the boy.

"I h-have c-come for the negotiations." He stated, as rigid as he could demand with his tone. The two guards would eye him, than each other... and than laugh. They'd laugh hard. Claudias' fear temporarily subsided as he succumbed to mild annoyance. "I th-th-th-th-th-think y-y-y-y-you h-h-h-h-have the wr-r-r-rong p-place!" One of the guards, a male, orange faced togruta joked, prompting the Gran across from him to begin cackling. "Yeah, I th-th-th-th-th-think y-y-y-you should g-g-go home." The other said, letting out another belt of laughter.

It was ridiculously exaggerated, the same kind of teasing he'd receive as a child-- from other children. That these were two grown men set his mind a bit at ease; they were fools, clearly, and he could work with fools.

"I am C-Claudias, Tannaras... Pterygas... at Cormondas, Filias Secundas, Legatias, m... k-kriff it, y-you have my nephew." He stated, more surprised that he'd mostly finished his name without even a single stutter than he was loathed to actually attempt it. "T-tristodd B-brentioch. I am h-here to n-n-n-negotiate his release."

The giggling and jeers had stopped after the two had heard his name. It was long, and it certainly sounded important. The two guards looked at each other again, before looking at the older man once again, expressions hardened. "Droids stay outside." The Togruta snapped, before stepping behind him and taking hold of his wheelchair. Claudias' eyes widened, and he exclaimed, "I c-can assure you, I'm perfectly capable of moving on my own!" At that, the gran snorted, muttering, "Clearly not," before brushing past the man.
​

@Nor'baal @LouJoVi

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

As the Ambassador entered, he would find himself in a large dark warhouse, entirely empty, bar a solitary protocol droid holding a silver tray, atop which would be seen a holoprojection unit.

For Nor'baal, was not there.

Instead, as the holo kicked into life, it became clear that the Hutt was many hundreds of thousands of miles away, sat in the comfort of his yacht, away from the site of the negotiation, and even from the place where the young noble was being held. His large frame appeared in the warehouse by way of holo, and he allowed a large smile to cross his face.

''Good day, Ambassador. Before we begin, you will have noticed your boy is not here. You, like he, are entirely alone. Tell me, Ambassador, why did the boys mother not come herself? Why did the 'great' house Brentioch show such disdain for their scion?''

 

[Claudias Tannaras]

The walk inside took several minutes. They were moving down, that was for certain; there was a slight decline as they moved. It would be a pain wheeling back up on his own, that was for certain. He wished that one of the droids he'd brought had been allowed to come in. Such minor inconveniences didn't take up head space for long, however. The single most important focus now was on helping out his nephew.

He would soon find himself at the end of the brief hallway he'd gone through. Entering the warehouse, he couldn't see the walls. He expected that they were duracrete up to waist level, and that the rest was the same droll durasteel that he'd seen from the outside. In the middle, the dimly illuminated building hosted a large holoprojector. The ambassador was confused-- the hutt should've been here. Instead, it would kick to life, and the same blue visage that had delivered the demand's his family had received appeared before him.

"Kriff," Claudias swore beneath his breathe, the second time he had today-- uncharacteristic, but barring the circumstances, appropriate. He should've known that the Hutt wouldn't risk his own thick, slimy skin. Scum like them never negotiated on an equal playing field. Holding back the string of insults that he was cooking up in his mind, Claudias held his breathe, before releasing it. The human's blue eyes met the hutt's, and he forced a smile.

He'd temporarily ignore the hutt's words, before wheeling himself forward a bit. "It is a sh-sh-shame that our n-new meeting would be under s-such circumstances, Nor'b-b-b-baal Desil-lilililijic." He opened, not even attempting to exert control over his stuttering, as he did at all other times when he spoke. "I s-suppose it is not unch-ch-characteristic. Did you f-f-fear the retaliation that I could p-possibly bring? Understandable; it would t-take a dishonorable being to assume I would emp-p-ploy such tactics."

"Not that I am questioning your honor; I b-believe that one of these men under your th-thumb advised y-you against t-t-trusting me." He suggested, outstretching a shaky hand to the men around him. He didn't need any of the supernatural powers of a Jedi to feel the enmity that his comments generated. "B-but on the subject of my nephew... I believe some c-context is required to answer your question." He answered. "Ehem,"

"I recently wrote an essay on the early history of Brentaali warfare," Claudias began, explaining his source before he started. "In d-days long past, our f-f-f-forefathers were c-constantly struggling with one another. Whether it was over d-d-dominion over the surface, or c-control of our ideal t-trading position, the houses of B-b-Brentaal were in perpetual conflict." He explained, setting the mood of his explanation. "I c-could regail you with all the v-various, 'glorious' way the ancients killed each other, but I will instead d-d-direct you to one way they fought: hostage t-taking."

Claudias sat back in his hoverchair, checking to see if the Hutt was listening. "A c-common practice amongst the n-nobility was to k-k-kidnap the sons and d-daughters of their enemies. Oftentimes these hostages would be k-k-killed," He'd open, conceding the harsher reality of what often occurred, "B-but most every time, the f-f-families would n-negotiate a settlement."

Claudias sat there, taking in a long, deep breathe after his longwinded explanation. "You m-might wonder how this is relevant; simply put, House Brentioch, g-g-greatest and most ancient of all Brentaal's families, has f-f-forgotten this tradition. They v-view it as weakness to n-negotiate, whereas their f-f-forefathers would call them fools for such b-b-behavior. However, I have n-not forgotten this tradition, which is why I have come, instead of my sister, or my brother in law." He finished the explanation, tone darkening towards the end at the mention of his sister.

"Now, we shall s-speak under the law, I sh-shall speak from my land, and we sh-shall c-come to an agreement that s-sees my nephew returned to his f-family... or else."
​

@Nor'baal @LouJoVi