Change in Management

[Darth Parox]

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Deeko's Delicious Diner, Nar Shaddaa
2234 Local Time​

Milo ducked into the restaurant, ignoring the "closed" sing hung up on the door, and waving away anyone that came to tell him they were not open for business. The employees here should recognize him as the man who had come in yesterday to reserve the establishment, seeking privacy away from the prying eyes of those at the Lusty Lekku that still harbored ill intentions. Deeko's Diner was not a new establishment, and it was not Milo's first time here, and he had found that it was a reliable restaurant amidst the chaos and crime of Nar Shaddaa. At least the chefs didn't spit in the food here.

His eyes fell upon Nor'baal's massive form in the corner of the room, 3 tables in front of him because 1 was too small to accommodate for the Hutt's shapely figure. There was some food scattered on them, but Milo took no interest in that. Instead, he stopped in front of the slug's table, looking at him for a moment, before his neutral expression turned to a smile of pride.

"Nor'baal Fanth, Chief Executive Officer of the Exchange," he declared in Huttese, not even sitting down yet. A waiter came to offer him a seat, but he merely nodded, eyes still set on the Hutt two meters or so in front of him. The two had known each other for years now, and the Crusader had been one of the chief spectators—and facilitators—of the slug's gradual rise to being someone.

His good disposition was not only caused by a friend achieving a dream. Caitlin Aislin, who had served as a thorn in his side for the past few months, was finally gone, having left the Exchange and headed off to Sith space. He would have normally not felt too good about the change, but it seemed her ship had gotten lost on its way to Korriban; the woman had been declared missing, presumed dead. It was good news for the Sith, who had been forced to fight back assassins for months now. Even today, he was dressed as Olin Tisbar, just on the off-chance that Cait's men were still doing the devil's work. It was unlikely, however.

Nor'baal was the new leader of the Exchange, and he had effectively called off all the assassins, lifting the imaginary bounty that had been placed on Milo's head. Today was their first meeting since the Hutt's official inauguration, and the Drast looked forward to ironing out some details regarding their business partnership, among other things. Comically enough, Nor'baal had managed to reach out and slap a bounty on another one of Milo's problems—Darth Victress. While not his problem, per se, the Crusader strongly disliked the woman, and having her removed by a swarm of bounty hunters would be beneficial to the Empire. Its upper ranks would finally be purged of the complacency the sorceress brought.

"It seems you are all stocked up when it comes to food, so I suppose we skip right to the drinks," he remarked, motioning to the table. He turned to the waiter, who had come to recognize him as one of the gentlemen that had come to reserve the restaurant for the day. Milo had provided the establishment with a good amount of drinks to ensure they would be drinking from his and Nor'baal's personal supply, mostly to avoid any foul play that could be involved. One had to take the necessary precautions nowadays.

"Bring me my 10 year bottle of Junta's Delight," the Drast instructed, referring to the finest whiskey he had in store. Today, they would be feasting like kings.

@Nor'baal

 

[Norbaal Fanth]

Nor'baal Desilijic Fanth was already in the venue when Milo arrived, having made use of it to conduct some business calls some time earlier. The large Hutt looked up as his business partner and associate approached, and boomed a greeting in Huttese "Milo! Dan see uba bai woy fa. Hih wa tee chaieya cahpashot la gee wata peee tee, Jee bamuobaba mee douaph." he said with a smile, as the Sith approached and offered him a drink.

Politelty, Nor'baal waved the drink away, despite the generosity of the officer, "Milo, che uba paupe, um che mi, kaa wa kaae cuee Yih! Dobra dah bu Kowakian Uueca Boga noga ka kee." he added, raising a large gloop filled tankered as he did so. "Yanee doth woy tee see alay, an uonza doth doptkahee. Nobata siw uba gee neu bu sobahonh soong cay mee Hehon,," he paused, having quite forgotten theher name.

"Victress." his droid leant in, Nor'baal nodding in agreement.

"Da bo tagwa, bu cuee sahuaka chenlaee du bu Kacmahea, an see pacmhanaduee, ba pinpiumii du bu bakang killya see mah grancha pateessa, Gillian Rey?" he added, placing a large amount of emphasis on the world 'very' as if trying to stress a point.

 

[Darth Parox]

The Hutt's smile was unnerving to say the least, but Milo had grown used to the slug's mannerisms and facial expressions. He mirrored Nor'baal's grin with one of his own, before letting it fade as he listened to him speak. "Sahuaka chenlaee tagwa," he replied, his smile turning cold. He was smiling, but his eyes were not.

Music​

Wooooshhh​

Red light bathed the two as Milo's lightsaber ignited, its blade humming to life directly in the Hutt's stomach. Nor'baal would not die instantly, but he would also not feel any pain. Milo gave him a final moment of honor, letting him get in a last word. His expression remained neutral, but emotions clashed inside the Sith. Nor'baal had been his first associate, his first ally—his first friend. Guilt coursed through him like hot fire, his chest burning as if he had been the one that got impaled. The dark side flared out of him, the yellow in his eyes intensifying as the red light of the blade twinkled over his face, his skin pale and crimson in its glow. "Nopa perso, Nor'baal. Bu kacmahea ovae el."

As the blade ignited, he bent the Force to his will, channeling it to a shield in front of him, his left palm held up toward the Hutt. If Nor'baal fought back, either by tail slam or by blaster, Milo's Force shield would weather the damage and prevent his victim—a disgusting term to call a friend—from taking him down as well. Through the emotions, one burned strongest—hate. Not toward Nor'baal, and not toward himself, but for that pampered princess, hiding in the comfort of Korriban, letting others do her dirty work. Darth Victress would fall, but not because of a bounty. She would fall, but it would not be a hunter's hand that slays her—no, her death would be much more personal. Would it be Milo? Only time would tell. If he had to keep betraying his friends just to ensure she could live and play Sith Lord for another day, perhaps.

He'd extinguish his blade as the Hutt slumped, dead, to the floor, then reach into his robes and pull out a datapad, switching it on. A familiar hologram projected in front of him, a hooded figure on a throne. "Target eliminated, Your Grace."

Milo would loot the corpse more out of necessity; he needed Nor'baal's datapad. The Hutt may be dead, but the Exchange was not, and he would have access to all of their funds, assets, and other things stored on the slug's datapad. With a sigh, he produced it from the pouch slung across Nor'baal's waist. After confirming he now had access to everything crucial to the Exchange, he slipped it into his robes.

Empire above all.

@Nor'baal @Phoenix

 

[Norbaal Fanth]

The life of a criminal was a dangerous one, and in a way Nor'baal had always known this day would come. Yet, he was shocked that it was to come at the hands of Milo Drast, shocked, yet as his brain raced to find answer; somewhat proud. The Bounty posting had been asking for trouble, and Milo was doing as commanded by his 'Lorda' - the Emperor, no doubt. As the room was bathed in red light, Nor'baals smile dropped temporarily. There was no point trying to talk the Sith out of performing his duty, and he merely raised his free hand saying:

"Milo. Tytung Jee saconba ne. Cha cahcata bu Chenlaee, bai cahka mee phana."

His smile returned, bizzarely, as the lightsaber clashed into his stomach. He felt no pain, for as a gesture of respect, Milo had allowed him that at least. As the blade struck home, Nor'baal dropped his glass, which shattered upon the floor, his monkey Lizard letting out a keening howl as he saw his masters demise. Gently, with what little strength he could muster, Nor'baals right hand fell on Milos shoulder, and he looked him in the eyes.

"U kulle rah doe kankee kung."

His last words fell from his mouth, as his tongue lolled out to one side, and he slumed to one side, falling onto the ground with a heavy crash, a smile fixed across his face - for he had been killed by someone worthy to succeed him, and worthy to claim the title of Lorda.