Ask Dauau Bargon - The Hungering Prince

[Arok Desilijic Nor'baal]

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Dauau Bargon
The Hungering Prince​

Randosh Klaw, one of the leading hunters of Nar Kanji, is famed across the region for his hankering for flesh. Apparently believing it 'lends him the strength of his enemies' the Trandoshan Princeling has been a menace to Nar Kanji for too long. Accompanying one of the Hutts, your team will meet with the Trandoshan, securing his submission, or his removal.​

Arok Desilijic Nor'baal coasted along on his skiff, the solar-sail down as gliding through the town at a modest pace. Piloting the skiff, some nondescript piloting droid sat, whilst next to the skiff waddled a cluster of four Gamorreans, favourites of Aroks from the fighting pits. Each of them was wearing the traditional garb from the arena, bantha fur covering their lower halves, and huge axes in their hands.

Understated, sublime.

Accompanying the Hutt on the way to their meeting with Randosh Klaw, was one Preef Callo (@Eccles), a hunter that Arok had heard some rather unsettling things about. <Hahiheu lumpa tah.> Arok bemoaned. His twin sister had been given a much more interesting assignment on this job, Arok had been 'given the safe option' as his father's emissary had put it.

One of the downsides of being the preferred child was the monotony of life.

He yearned to be far from here, back in the Palace, drinking, smoking, watching the games and gambling heavily on them. This was all far too much like actual work. Yet here he was, and naturally, he was going to have to make the most of it, all to impress his siblings and parent.

Arok had brought several items with him, stashed in the compartments of his skiff. A male Tromonid, a highly venomous inspect that collectors simply adored, a collection of nala tree frogs, various items of trandoshan cultural artwork, and enough spice to fumigate a small village. He had even placed a Sha'rellian toop, a fashion statement that was all the rage on Hutta at the moment, atop his head to set the scene.

Slowly, the skiff wound to a stop in front a squat circular building, which Arok understood to be the hunters lodge....

 

[Preef Callo]

Somehow Nor'baal had talked Preef into accompanying the Hutt's heir-apparent to a deal the younger Hutt had to make to learn the ropes and further his reputation. The Old Rodian was only there to protect him, secure the older Hutt's line of succession, by simply keeping the Scion alive.

Twenty years ago he would've shot and killed them both. Now his youth and idealism was gone and he was left with a desire to be home and live his days comfortably. You could say a lot about being the Supreme Mogul's chief enforcer, his champion, after having once lead your own syndicate. You couldn't deny, however, that Preef lived a more luxurious life than he had back then.

"Don't underestimate Randosh Klaw," the rodian warned the Hutt, speaking in basic because unlike his father, Arok had many years of dealing left before he could demand everyone around him spoke in his own native tongue. Preef had heard of the Trandoshan first thing when arriving on this world. They saw one former Vanguard of the Five Syndicates and they immediately thought of Randosh. That was ill foreboding, indeed.

When the skiff stopped, Preef stepped off first and looked around to make sure the area was safe enough for the young Hutt to disembark as well. His hand hovered close to his peacemaker. "It's safe, you eminence."

@Nor'baal

 

[Arok Desilijic Nor'baal]

Emminence. Now that was a title Arok could get used to - perhaps one day, when his father's bulk was no longer taking up space on the throne, Arok could command all in the Cartel to refer to him with such lustre? He chuckled to himself as he entertained that particular thought. Preef Callo was a famous man, infamous in Hutt Space, for his past actions against the superior species, and Arok was left to wonder just how his father had managed to secure his services.

Mountains of credits most likely.

The status jolt it would do them both, Preef and Nor'baal, was considerable. Arok, however, had more pressing matters at hand. He slid off of his sled, two of the Gamorreans quickly moving to unload it, whilst another stayed behind to ensure nobody tampered with its masters ride. "Let's go." Arok switched to basic, out of respect for Preef and the man with whom they would soon be meeting, and slithered inside.

The Gamorreans waddled along behind, two holding boxes and the third keeping a look out and looking generally mean.

Once inside, they where presented in a large circular room, a table in the centre, behind which sat the Trandoshan. He gestured for the Hutt to come to the table and boomed a greeting out in basic "You've slithered quite the way, tell me - what do the clans want with my planet?" he sneered, forgoing the usual pleasantries, much to Aroks chagrin.

About the room, a cluster of some dozen mean-looking hunters stood, glowing at the offworlders. "The hospitality of Nar Kanji was once legendary, perhaps your purse strings cannot stretch so far these days, no?" Arok jibed, as the meeting began.

 

[Preef Callo]

Preef winked at the some dozen mean-looking hunters as he accompanied Arok Desilijic to the large circular room and the table where the Trandoshan was already sitting. The old rodian didn't like the disrespect and wasn't quite so nice about is as Nor'baal's young child.

His hand was on his blaster before anyone had even noticed it. "Randosh Klaw," the rodian smiled in a way that made his eyes convey the exact opposite emotion, "You should be more respectful towards the heir of the cartel."

However mean those hunters looked or however accomplished they were on the planet of Nar Kanji. They all knew Preef Callo. The rodian had already been the stuff of galactic legend before they had even participated in their first hunt. Their glows changed slightly right then and there. Could the greatest among them, Randosh Klaw, really think he could beat the likes of Preef Callo?

"Let's try this again," the gunslinger motioned towards Arok with his free hand, but kept looking at the trandoshan with murderous intent, "I present to you, Trandoshan scum, the supremebeing and heir to the Supreme Mogul of the Hutt Cartel, Arok Desilijic Nor'baal."

@Nor'baal

 

[Arok Desilijic Nor'baal]

Arok puffed out his chest as Preef reminded Randosh Klaw of his place in the pecking order. He had planned to return to his father's Palace and inform the Supreme One of this disrespect - yet Preefs plan no doubt had more merit; it enabled Arok to project his power, not just that of his father. "Quite correct, Klaw" he nodded, feeling a lot more confident now Callo had stepped in, legendary Peacemaker at hand.

"Does our business matter so little to the supremebeing that he sends a boy to do his work for him" Klaw responded, a toothy sneer emerging across his face. "Clearly, you have much to learn about how to do business here."

Arok looked over to Preef as if calling for him to remain non-violent for now. "Let us cool matters for now, no?" he remarked, opening the box, his body blocking what was in it. Turning around, he held a MPL-57 Grenade Launcher in his hands, and grinned. "Sit." he commanded.

When presented with the option of being blown to ash by an angry Hutt, it was amazing how quickly people did what that Hutt wanted.

Klaw sat.

 

[Preef Callo]

Heh. This scion had more nerve than he had given him credit for. Preef let go of his holstered blaster when Arok presented a grenade launcher and took control of the room by threat of extreme violence. Then, when Randosh Klaw sat down and his fell hunters had all but lost every last sliver of the confidence they had in their abilities, now being outclassed in ranged combat by a Hutt of all species, Preef retrieved a cigar from his pocket and suddenly drew his blaster with lightning speed.

But only to use it to light his cigar with. It was a trick he'd learned that if you let the barrel heat up enough by pulling the trigger slightly, but then never pulling through to let an actual shot out, you could use the barrel's heat to light cigarettes and cigars. It had the added benefit of showing off his skills to everyone in the room, too.

Another twirl of the blaster and it was back in its holster as the old rodian puffed leisurely on his cigar. There were no words necessary from the gunslinger as the Hutt seemed to have full control of the situation.

@Nor'baal

 

[Arok Desilijic Nor'baal]

That certainly seemed to rebalance the scales in their favour.

Keeping his weapon levelled at the Trandoshan, Arok mulled his options. He didn’t have his father's reputation and financial clout, so he couldn’t just throw credits around like it was going out of fashion. Neither did he have the manpower to make a more forceful play, one that would need ‘staff’ to ensure his dominance in the longer term

”Now everybody is in the right headspace, we can talk more seriously - no?” he began. ”We have options, our lot. Either was can come together for mutual profit, or we can go it alone and wait for the Consortium, the Empire, the Republic or someone else to come along and snuff us out.” Arok observed. ”Now - which option will you take?”

The Trandoshan glared at him ”We can always make a deal. How about a tithe to you, and you leave us to run the business?”

Arok considered that for a second or so.

”Tempting. But you see, there is a small hurdle. How do I know you will keep those payments going? If you decide not to, I need to come back, we need to do this all again, except next time you’d be ready for me. Tough decision.”

Arok sighed.

And pulled the trigger on the grenade launcher.

 

[Preef Callo]

The old rodian didn't know whether he should be impressed by the 'young' Hutt or not. In the middle of conversation Arok just casually pulled the trigger of his grenade launcher and shot a grenade square on Randosh' jaw. Most of the Trandoshan's fellow hunters immediately dove away trying to escape the blast radius and where the Trandoshian sat their, stunned and with soiled breeches, Preef couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"Your eminence," he said as he peered over the table to look at the grenade that now rolled down a slope on the other side and closer to the Trandoshan's hunters. "I think the timer was a bit-"

Then it exploded in a loud bang, maiming three hunters permanently and killing the wookiee one who took the brunt of it into his gut. Heroic, really. Well, if it had been on purpose. Luckily the Hutt and the rodian were, like Randosh Klaw, just out of its range. "No, I think that was masterfully timed master Arok."

This Hutt had a flair for the dramatics that could actually rival that of his father.

@Nor'baal

 

[Arok Desilijic Nor'baal]

A flash of unadulterated terror spasmed through the Hutt as ever-so-briefly it looked like his projectile would ding off of the Trandoshan, to no effect. Arok felt a sense of relief wash over him as it detonated - or perhaps that was just the heat from the blaster. Deciding not to admit to his panic, he replied to Preef "Well yes, I am an excellent shot." Arok said, puffing out his chest, partially in pride, and partially to hide his blunder.

"I think our statement has been made. We'd better get moving before any of his friends show up, I assume this blast was heard across the block?" he remarked. Not willing to test the theory that the blast had indeed be heard far and wide, he moved toward the door, keen to get out of there and back to relative safety on their ship. "Well, come on then!" he shouted back, waving for the Rodian to join him.

 

[Preef Callo]

Preef frowned as the Hutt decided to leave suddenly fearing back-up. Wasn't that what he was for? "Shouldn't we-" he didn't finish his sentence and instead unholstered his peacemaker and walked up to the stunned Randosh Klaw, who was blinking still unable to quite fathom that the Hutt had just sucker punched him with a grenade launcher. Perhaps the Trandoshan wasn't quite ready to accept that the great unsurpassed hunter had just been bested by a Hutt... which was embarrasing to say the least.

"So regarding the cartel's terms," the rodian stopped as the Trandoshan began nodding his head. "I accept," he said through gritted teeth, knowing that, by the sheer smell of burned Wookieee, he had definitely just met his better in... Arok Desilijic!?

With the infamous hunter under the cartel's thumb, Preef holstered his blaster again and turned to follow the Hutt back to their ship. Once there he'd flash Nor'baal's heir a smile, "Well done, Arok. I'm impressed." He didn't add the usual terms of respect, because quite frankly they were formal and sometimes even sarcastic, but this time Preef actually meant the compliment. Arok would be a grand Hutt one day.

@Nor'baal