Ask Hear Us Roar

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Pykes.

There was a time when that word carried more meaning that it did today.
Whatever they were now, they were once more, once more feared, more powerful, more Pyke.

Chief among them was not this Pyke’s family, they were never at the pinnacle, not at the peak, but power they had, and they used it well.

House Laaster… What happened to your roar..?

The Pyke remembers them, remembers the faces of his family, his kin.

He sees his father in the eyes of his mother, her eyes in the eyes of his, his brothers, his sisters, his children.
He sees the violet in their eyes, the gold in their helms, like gems in crowns.

The Pyke listens, hears a promise, uncertain if it’s genuine, but he hears.

“I hear…”

The Pyke turns in the dark, but there is a light yet, and it comes from more than the violet in his eyes.

A lamp lights up a face; it is not the face of a Pyke.
It is…smaller.

“...Lies.”

The Pyke has a voice, a lion’s voice that echoes a helm, and precedes a blastbolt.

“AAAAAHHHH!! MY KNEEEEEEEE!!”

The tiger roars, but his claws are small too.

Unfortunately for the prisoner in the metal chair in a dark basement, the Pyke was out of patience, but that was fine.
The Pyke will sit down and unwind.

So the Pyke did, found a chair of his own, placed himself in it, crossed his arms and thought of a throne.

At this point, Tysjor would jump in, do his thing, and the Pyke had a way of getting things done.
However, Tysjor was presently preoccupied with a maze of activity elsewhere on a world that wasn't this one.

That was fine.
Cul had another assistant to carry out the bidding of the Pykes—whether she knew it or not.

Someone who could more quickly make their prisoner tell them where in this city of Gravenell on Sevenmoon they could find their quarry, and she could, because she was Sith.

For the Pykes, Cul thought, squeezing a fist. A Sith for the Pykes!

@Sicadorito

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

For some strange reason, Cheriss always let others do the interrogating. But whenever they did it, the information took forever to come out. And there she was, again, waiting forever for her partner to finish torturing the man so they would have the location of a slug. He shot him in the knee, didn’t get anything, then sat down. Why do I have to do everything myself?

She mentally cursed the spice fish as she uncrossed her legs and got out of her own seat. Walking over to their prisoner, she watched as he wept, the tears staining his face and his clothing, stifling a sigh. The reason why these people kept their mouths shut while their limbs were literally being torn off or shot at was beyond her.

“Tell us where the Hutt is and we’ll let you go.” She had no intention of doing so, as anyone outside her circle who knew what they were doing was too dangerous to be left alive. It was only luck that the Padawans on Thila hadn’t been after the same thing. As far as she knew.

“I don’t know!!” Cheriss put a hand on her hip.

“Mhm. I believe you.” She wasn’t sure if he was able to pick up the sarcasm with how much he was sobbing, but she would help him. “Can you remember now?” Three fingers touched his forehead, amplifying all his fear and pain as he began to convulse. His eyes shot wide open, and he yelled.

“Corporate sector! Back of the casino! LET ME GO!!” He thrashed, kicking and struggling against the ropes, and Cheriss let go.

“What casino?” she demanded. He stopped screaming, and took a couple shaky breaths.

“The Pool! That’s all I know. You said you would let me go. That was our deal.” Cheriss smiled.

“Of course.” She ignited her saber and cut the ropes, ignoring him as he flinched and letting the man get up on his remaining leg and hobble to the metal door. But just as his hand touched the handle, she would send a bolt of lightning at him, watching as he tumbled to the floor and squirmed and screamed. Like the girl before him.

Only this time, she would make sure she killed him, with a decisive swipe of her saber severing his head from his shoulders. Kicking it and his body aside, she glanced at the Pyke, who she’d almost forgotten was there.

“The Pool, Corporate Sector. Let’s head out.”

@Die Shize

 

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music IC

The Pyke looked up at that Sith queen.
She was anything but, they both knew, but he would let her act the part if she wanted to.
For now.

The Pyke’s throne could wait, had to, so he left his seat.
It was hard, anyway.

“After you,” Cul smiled, rarely did, but knew better than to call her a princess.
Behind his smile, between it, was more the look of someone impressed and who had to leave no loose ends.
A Sith…for the Pyke Syndicate.
A Pyke would have nothing less.

Cul Laaster was never fond of casinos.
They were good for turning a profit, not for playing in, not this Pyke’s kind of pool.
He did not gamble with his money, only his fortune, and this Pyke’s fortune was the future.

The Pool.
It clearly had something to do with the overly large swimming pool in the center of the floor.
A Pyke would not be getting into that anytime soon, no chance.

Slot machines chimed around him, a dealer called out the next hand like a train conductor, and a noisy chorus of gamblers of all kinds flooded the floor like pigs in a ranch.

“Would you like to buy some tickets?”
Asked a passing ticketman.

“No thanks,” the Pyke hissed, brushing past.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Cul had no time for this and neither did Cheriss.

Unfortunately, their Hutt was behind closed doors upstairs in her throne room and not taking visitors anytime soon.

“We need to find a way in,” the Pyke told the Sith at the bar.
“She’s guarded well.”
They could fake their way in, sneak in, barge in, considering they had a Sith and she could do certain things more than him.
“Ideas, sorceress?”

@Sicadorito

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

On the way to Corporate Sector, Cheriss noticed how hardly anyone even gave her and the Pyke a second glance. Usually traveling with one would draw attention, but on Sevenmoon… somehow it didn’t.

The only one who’d looked a little longer than most was a grizzly old man who hadn’t been looking where he’d been going and ended up bumping into her. There was nothing particularly significant about it so she’d let it go, but when their eyes met for a brief moment, she saw something like recognition in his. She’d never seen him before, so she figured she’d imagined it. She moved on.

Soon they’d arrived at The Pool, adequately named. There was a pool in the middle, pool tables on one side, pools of credits on tables surrounded by men gambling their lives away. Unlike her and Kayden, they weren’t leaving anything to chance. She hadn’t chosen to work with Cul for nothing, and it wasn’t just luck that they were after the same Hutt in that throne room.

“We can negotiate our way in. Hutts and Pykes have occasionally done business together before, if I recall. Even if you are rivals… I’m sure you can work something out.” She shrugged, then smiled as she pulled her hair into a loose bun. “I can help you, but if they refuse us, we could use force and break their guard. I’ve heard that you Pykes aren’t ones to take no for an answer.”

Her wine was completely untouched as she paid for the tab. The two guards stationed at the base of the stairs were only their first obstacle, but they could move one step at a time. If they declined the offer, a little Force persuasion could make all the difference.

“After you, my friend.”

@Die Shize

 

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music OOC

The Pyke might have spread his lips.
Diplomacy was not the way of every Sith but this one proved to have wits.

“Now you speak my tongue.”
This one wasn’t like Tysjor.
That one had his uses, proved to be more than a soldier, but this one would prove to be even more.

Unlike his counterpart, Cul was not afraid to partake.
He sipped red nectar, and while some might have painted it for blood, this was wine.
It wasn’t the blood of his enemies that the Pyke would drink.
It was the river of victory—victory that tasted sweet.

“Only when the question is ‘Can you hide from a Pyke?’.”
Cul drank to that, downed what was left as the Sith paid the tab.
Because a Pyke is coming, Hutt.

Two guards were at the base of the stairs.
They were Weequay.
Go figure.

“Halt!”
They crossed lances.
“I am Xigonovus!”

“No, I am Xigonovus!”

The Pyke and the Sith exchanged a look.
“I have business with your boss. It’s time the Pyke and the Hutt set aside their differences for the greater gain. This one beside me is here to mediate.”

“Long have I, Xigonovus, wished for the rivalry between the Pyke and the Hutt to end!”

That one looked convinced, lifted his glaive away from two violet eyes gazing out from the center of gold.

“False! I, Xigonovus, wish for the feud between the Hutt and the Pyke to end only when the Pyke...the Hutt…when the Hyke…wait who's our boss again?”

Xigonovus blinked at Xigonovus.

“Well if upstairs is anything like downstairs…”
The Pyke couldn’t finish the sentence.
He could only stand there pinching his metal chin.

Spoiler: Dice Roll

Roll: 12
Reason: Cul talks his way through two guards base stairs go

@Sicadorito

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

Xigo-what-what? Cheriss glanced at Cul. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. One lifted his glaive, and that left the other confused.

“You’ll work for both if the deal works out. Double the payment.” No Force persuasion necessary for that one. Xigonovus and Xigonovus exchanged grins, the second let them through, and their path up the stairs was clear. This Hutt clearly had to work on the security she was hiring.

“We can hope.”

There were four guards outside of the red-golden door, and upon seeing the Pyke and the Sith they moved as one to block it. Unfortunately, these weren’t Weequay, but Trandoshan mercenaries. Cheriss didn’t blink twice, however. Sure, they were tough, but not so much when it came to credits.

“Rule says no visitors,” one said firmly, hand on his staff. Then we’ll change the rules.

“The Pykes are here to do business.” A credit appeared in her palm. “No harm will come of it to you.” She pulled out another, watching the gleaming gold light reflecting from their eyes. “And the Pykes pay well.” Pretty soon she’d taken out an entire pouch.

“This is just a small taste of what they offer. Let us in and this is yours, with more to come.” The Trandoshans exchanged glances, muttered amongst themselves, and shot looks at the waiting pair. They wouldn't have to wait long before the door opened,and she smiled as she dropped the bag into the claws of the first one.

“Hey, what about us?” The others didn’t sound too happy. Cheriss glanced at the first Trandoshan, who had already put the bag in his pocket. She wasn’t giving more than she needed to— the door was already open, after all.

“Split it how you wish.” They could settle this themselves. The other Trandoshans leapt at the first, and Cheriss would smile as she left them to tear themselves apart behind them. Meanwhile, she and Cul made their way into the throne room. Oh, we'll be sitting on that throne soon...

Spoiler: Roll

16 for bribery

@Die Shize

 

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music OOC [Recurring]

He might have said something, might have forked that Pyke’d tongue of his, but what was a Pyke compared to a Sith?
More, and even more, of course.
Yet, only a fool would try to deny the power of a woman like her.

So the Pyke would wait, the Pyke would watch; like a snake, that Pyke, waiting to strike.
At the galaxy…then usher in a new dawn.
Cul could have made the prisoner croak.
But a Sith can make him choke.

The pair passed the Weequay, passed the Trandoshans, and upon them the Pyke did steal a glance.
He would smile as she left them to tear themselves apart, but the Pyke would imagine the power of the Sith were she to make them tear each other apart.

Whatever it takes, a Pyke tells himself, day and night. Whatever to get it done. There is no try.
For a Pyke to keep that in mind, well, a Pyke had already won.
You win…or you die.

The door opened, a coliseum awaited, but it was not paved in stone, was no more a museum.
An ancient relic of the past…
A Pyke thinks as he stares at all that fat.
It is a grotesque thing; a blob with no feet, no butt.
A Hutt.

She sat on a throne, what might serve as one.
It was gold, it was green; like slime in a treasure trove.
She was flanked by Shistavanen guards.
Surrounded by slaves with broken hearts.

A Pyke had not come here for any of them or this.
He came for what was his.
What a Pyke was due, namely him.
What a Hutt was overdue in paying him.

“Greetings,” a Pyke greets beside a Sith as all goes quiet in the presence of the tongue between Pyke and Hutt.

@Sicadorito

 

[Perla the Hutt]

Spoiler: Music OOC [Recurring]

She’s fat. She knows it. She doesn’t care.
SO BLOW IT.
She said that to the last man.
He was a fat man.
BLOW IT.
Blew him out the airlock, heard her Nunion say “squawk!-squawk!-squawk!”

Oh, yes, they flew like birds out the airlock, the enemies of this little miss.
Except without wings…eh, Nunion?
She thinks, stroking her baby’s cheeks.
Mama’s enemies are just birds without wings…
She grins, baby grins back, laughs, but it’s more like sings.
“...Because Mama Perla peeled their wings off, my sweets…”

An enemy deserved no less.
Just ask the galaxy and it would surely confess!

For now, the Hutt is at her best sitting on her throne in a casino.
It’s unclear if she owns it, even she doesn’t know it, but there she is and there he goes.

The Twi’lek gazed up with terrified eyes before the water took him.
He couldn’t do anything about it, definitely couldn’t swim.
No, not a bird…
Mama Perla thinks, knows the thought is what her baby heard with that grin of his.
…A fish!

One door closes not a moment too soon before another.
Hmm, guests?
A Hutt checks her watch but it’s not on her wrist.
Hmm where’s that button again…
A Hutt taps the armrest of her throne.
There it is.
A grubby finger pokes that button then the button of her baby’s lovely nose.
Somewhere in this city a slave would find her freedom at the edge of a blade for failing a lot at dressing her Hutt’s wrist with a watch.
And, to a Hutt, a lot is just once.

“COME IN!”
A Hutt roars, roars like a lion, like a Sith, like a galaxy getting swallowed by a fish.
Silence.

Perla’s fingertips break it, drum an armchair. Have to be careful not to press a button.
The Pyke has already spoken, even before being yelled at to come in, right there beside some brunette bitch.
Greetings?

A Hutt licks her lips.

“What?”
Fingertips drum upon an eardrum, as innocent as a Hutt baby's bare bum.
“Sorry? Oh, see, ‘cause I just don’t remember INVITING. YOU. INNN.”

There’s that wild roar.
And this Hutt’s all yours.
She smiles—but it’s a wicked grin, all right.

"...And I won't talk to a Pyke..."
Sweeps the eyes.
"But I will talk to this one."

@Sicadorito

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

As much as she’d heard about them, Cheriss had never seen or met a Hutt in the flesh. And looking at this one, she was glad that she didn’t have to— just looking at her made her want to gag. She makes zombie Herglics look attractive.

The Sith briefly considered skipping the formalities to simply torture the Hutt and get the information out that way, but she didn’t want to cause a ruckus if she didn’t have to. Those Shistavanen guards did look like they meant business, and if that didn’t bring security or even more guards in here, she didn’t know what would.

On the outside though, she kept her face clear of emotion as she bowed to the smiling Hutt, and was that a baby in her arms? She would keep that in mind.

“My apologies for the disruption, O wise and powerful… Hutt.” Cheriss hoped that was the right title, because in reality she had no idea who this was. “Your loyal guards could not see this, but I come only with good intentions.” It was her turn to smile now.

“A Trandoshan acquaintance of mine has enlightened me about a project Your Eminence has been involved in, with a group called the Daggers. His name was Thur Rashnik.” She put her hands behind her back. “Unfortunately, he is currently indisposed. There were some minor complications regarding his factory on Thila. So, he sent me to meet with you in his stead, though I must regret to inform you he did not tell me much about what exactly your part in his research was, or why he was supposed to be here.” She met the eyes of the Hutt.

“I would simply like to know about your part in the project, my lady. In return, you can have this Pyke as a token of my and Thur’s good will. I understand he is a competitor.” Cheriss took Cul’s shoulder and pushed him forward, not caring for his reaction.

@Die Shize

 

[Perla the Hutt]

Spoiler: Music OOC [Recurring]

There are two figures beneath two eyes transfigured.
They gaze upon the path laid out before thee.
Corners of her eyes upon buttons tied to certain…things.
Golden Eyes, the Golden Queen thinks, and who would dare to disagree?

That Pyke might.
Oooh, Pyke, how a Hutt hated the word!
Pykes can die…
Drown like a fish, fly like a bird.

A little bird spoke, clucked feathers from her throat.
Hmm brown eyes, brown hair—ugly coat.
She would make a good gift for her Nubz To Be, Norby, perhaps.
One day he would be wed to Perla—Facts.

The woman bowed.
Tried to—the cow.
Are those hands on her arms?
So slender, so small, so easily bound...

…Hutt?...

A Hutt thinks as she’s being addressed by skin so pink.
Could sell that to that Yautkan…

If anyone can forgive a harlot, Perla can.
And give her blood for the rancor to drink…

It was the woman’s turn to smile now.
Cow.
Turned out that cows could neither swim nor fly.
Rancor had a good time, try as he might, but either way his victims die.

Brown eyes watch golden eyes, but other eyes are watching both.
Guards over here, guards over there, guards in armor, guards in cloaks.
They surround their Hutt, their love, and the Hutt surrounds them with her own.
Kyeheh! No I don’t! NOPE!

Nunion squeaks just then.
Sweet little thinggg!
Safe and sound, so cute sucking Mama’s thumb and ring.
And like Mama’s pet...soon to be fed…

A Hutt’s infant is gazed upon as a woman drones on and on.
‘Eminence’ sounds sooo much better when Norbz says it…
He never did, a mother relents while petting her kid.
Thila. Thur. Sharp sticks. YAWN.

Mama yawned, Nunion made his mom.
So did that not-quite-a-blonde.
Queue the Pyke to come along.

The Pyke was pushed forward.
Now the tables turn toward…

“KYAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!”
Laughs a Hutt, and there’s your laugh.
It’s a mighty if terrifying thing, like a thunderclap.

“Ohhhh I dooo enjoy it when my enemies turnnn on one another…”
A tongue slides gracefully over lips, licking what a rancor might after picking at bits.
“All those bones...so easily broken…”
Offers an eye, holds it up like a token.
“Right, Pyke?”

“You can kill me if you want to try.”

“KYAHA! Not tonight, little fly... I don’t wanna war with you and yours just yet…Pyke.”
Sweeps a gaze the woman’s way.

“Lady…if this is how you treat your allies…well I don’t know what to say…”
Those arms of hers, of Perla’s, shrug short and stubby, but her whole hide is made of plate.
Sits up straight.

Baby in arms but the smile is lost.
“Perla the Hutt does yet accept a gesture in good faith—a gift, as it were…”
Golden Eyes never waver, never drift off, as three fingers beckon the woman to step forth, move along.
“Tell me your name...”
A Hutt had given a Human hers.

@Sicadorito

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

Cheriss spoke in Cul’s mind, just barely looking at him and hoping that he would continue to maintain his composure. This is just for show. No one will lay a hand on you. He was useful for now, and she couldn’t lose her only connection to the underworld on Gravenell.

Instead, her gaze swiveled over to Perla, and the Champion stepped forward as she was beckoned. The odor was even stronger now, and she stifled the urge to wrinkle her face. It was even worse than that overly-sweet scent of the bug spray on Dagobah, and she found herself wondering if it would work on Hutts. Filthy slugs. Even rotting garbage smelled better.

However, she swallowed her disgust and moved on.

“Cheriss, Your Eminence.” She had nothing to fear by giving out her name. The Hutts were powerful and made powerful enemies, that was true, but she was determined to come away with more than she came for, and that didn’t include a new enemy.

“The Pyke is no ally— he is an offering, a gesture of friendship as a symbol of the alliance between us and the glorious Hutt clans. He may have tried to bribe his way out of this, but Thur and I keep our word.” She gave a respectful nod.

@Die Shize

 

[Perla the Hutt]

Spoiler: Music OOC [Recurring]

Pyyyyyyyyyke…
He was so silent.
Those violet eyes…
SUCH violence.

Would he even survive the night?
A Hutt might change her mind.
For now she watched as a woman walked.

…These boots are made for walkin'...

Boots made for walking would tap over polished green black marble.
No rug or carpet, and sorry for an odorous armpit.
But, oh my, isn’t this Hutt a marvel!?

Absolutely ASS-TONISHING, Your Grace!
Nor'baal oughtta one day say.
When we are wed!
KYEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEEHEEEEEEEEEHEH!
Oh, yes, even a Hutt Queen-to-be can laugh in her head…

The cow continues to move, toe after toe, heel after heel.
Closer, she comes, that slut.
Oblivious to what’s beneath her feet, what lies below, hungry for a meal.

…And that's just what they'll do…

Cheriss calls Perla Her Eminence.
This pleases Her Eminence.
She sweetly expresses it by grazing a lone finger on her bubby-bubba-bub’s baby bubu beak.
Oh, right, there’s a woman walking the floor like a whore walks a street.
A Hutt tends to forget about the less important things.

“Maybe you speak truth, Cheriss.”
Just Cheriss. She was no lady. Not even maybe.
“Yet, when you entered my…Pool…”
Smiling so serene, little younglin’ Nunion yawnin’, skin like a pretty peach so green.
“You both entered together, and a Hutt is no fool...”
That's why she had magic-abra cameras and armrests with screens to view the cadabra in.

Maybe the swine that was the cow would be promoted to a mule if there was truth in all her drool.
That was beside the point of this pool, however.
A Hutt did not really care.

As for the Pyke?
A Hutt had changed her mind.

…One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over...YOU.

Finger hovers over a BUTTON.
Time to swim like a pike, Pyke.

“KYAHAHA—HCCKKHHHH!”
More of a choke than a slit throat this time.
“Frog ball.”
She spat.
Have to remember not to eat them live.

Queue everyone’s gaze glued to a slime-covered Pyke with oozy-goozy on his metal head of a helmet.
"Kark. My. Life."
Poor Pyke.

“My humblest apologies!”
Cried a guard at the door that was the gate.

"Your bumblest apologies, more like, since you are about to die."
Nobody interrupted a Hutt in front of a Pyke.

“Your Most Illustriously Lovingly Simultaneously Prepondernatly Magnamacious Exasperatio—”

“A HUTT is about to rub her BUTT all over your FACE if you don’t cut to the CHASE. KYAPICHE!?”

“Perla, Captain of the Sable Chariot, Binder of Chains, Princess That Was Promised!”
The Ugnaught guard held up his spear like a monkey holds up a stick.

-VANISHED!-

The naughty Ugnaught took too long so a Wookiee named Konkey Dong bashed him in the face and took his place.

“VISITORS AT THE GATE!”
Wookiee who speaks perfect Basic looks left, looks right, finds everyone surprised.
"...WAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGHHH!!"

-KNOCK!-KNOCK!-

“Oh for goodness sake!"
Hand slaps an armrest.
Wakes up Nunion, oh no, oh bless!
"NOW WHO THIS LATE!?”

@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

“Gross.” Despite their sudden, and likely rude entrance, Zaia couldn’t help the whisper from escaping her lips as she gazed upon the Hutt. They really are giant worms. There were others in here: the Hutt’s guards near the throne, some woman standing a bit farther out in front, and… was that a Pyke at her side?

What even is this?

Pulling herself together and trying not to pay them any attention, Zaia stood with her hands on her hips as she met the Hutt’s gaze. She seemed angry, but what was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t as if she were Nor’baal— or married to him, anyway. If anything was worse than one Hutt in a room, it was two.

“We were told that you were the one in charge of this establishment. What do you know about the Dagger that was arrested here?”

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music OOC

“Gross.”
Despite their sudden, and likely rude entrance, Zad couldn’t help the whisper from escaping his lips as he gazed upon the Hutt.
Fortunately he was not the only one.
Hi, Zai.

Open spaces.
A Ranger tells himself.
Open faces.
No doors, corners, shelves.

The throne room of Perla the Hutt was nothing but.
A marble floor, no carpet, and guards looked like hell.
Guest benches line the sides; gold, gems and also bells.
Rooms like these reminded a Ranger where he came from.
Whew! Ugly pillars too, kinda like that casino on Ord Mantell.

Guests, guards, chests; hard vests, Rangers wearing them.
Carried his blaster too; wasn’t his, not really, thanks to Yautkan.
Straightens coat collar; dark flaps, dusty black, hears his daughter.
She wasn’t his, not really, but she was his friend, he was her father.

Welcome back, Zad.
Not Zad…
I ain’t a man…
Just a man with a gun…
For a head stamped #1.

“We were told that you were the one in charge of this establishment. What do you know about the Dagger that was arrested here?”

A Mandalorian cut straight to the point but, if left interrupted, she would be cut straight to the point.

“Lemme whistle into ear.”
A Ranger holds up a hand.
Lazy wave where Zaia stands.
Signals for her to let him do the talkin’.
She’s smart, tough, but right now no walkin’.

They can’t be blamed.
They look lazy.
Slaves.

Aemi…
That’s her name.
Can’t shake headache…

No need to make this hard.
A Ranger has a card.
Favorite part.

Dips in coat.
Phlegm in the throat.
This Ranger’s old ‘n’ slow.

Spoiler: A Ranger's Badge

“Zad. Zad Ruzed.”
A Ranger had a badge.
Didn’t need a mask at that.
“Like my partner just said…”

A Ranger realizes he is speaking to a Hutt.
So does a woman, brown-eyed brunette.
Familiar. Can’t place his finger.
A Pyke covered in frog gut?

“...We need information. What'll it take to get it?”
A Ranger asks that question one way, a kind of trade.
A Ranger also asks another way, a kind of Ranger raid.

Women, Pykes, Hutts and frog guts…
A Ranger just might get himself bit…
An old man so old he’ll just get hit…

@Sicadorito

 

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music OOC

A Pyke.
A Pyke was a Pyke.
In that, there was no lie.

A Pyke could get pushed.
This one could get shoved.
He might even get shushed.

But, when push comes to shove…
…A Pyke could make his enemies run…

Cul Laaster was not born for less.
A Pyke is born for more!
There were those born for war.
This Pyke was born from it.
Greatness. More than this.

A Pyke would stand still for now.
Like a snake.
He would listen to horse and cow.
I will wait.

The frog on his face, however, would have to go away.
So a Pyke, even one of greatness, cleaned his plate.
Violet violence in that Pyke’s cold bright gaze!
His enemies had pushed aside his race.
All of you will pay for that mistake.

The Sith had betrayed him.
No, this was a game to them.

This is just for show. No one will lay a hand on you.

Cul is not a Sith, not a Jedi, but is a force too.

I am Pyke.
A Pyke thinks.
I break the hands on me.
A Pyke dreams.
Soon…the Pykes will break free…

@Sicadorito

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

“We did enter together, that is true.” Cheriss met the gaze of the Hutt. Kriffing cameras. “But—” Before she could say any more, Perla hacked up some kind of frog slime ball that ended up on Cul’s face, spattering a few droplets onto her clothes too. Fortunately, she managed to stop the look of complete disgust that threatened to break through when she turned around to look at the guard as he spoke.

Did he really think groveling was going to get him a promotion?

Apparently even his colleague had had enough, and he quickly cut to the chase. But by then Cheriss’ gaze was already locked onto the pair that entered the room. She stifled a smile of amusement when the Mandalorian didn’t even bother introducing herself before demanding information from the Hutt. She wouldn’t last long. Daggers, though? Wasn’t that the group who’d been on Endor?

Her gaze flicked to the man— Zad Ruzed— as he gave his name. He looked familiar… and it suddenly clicked that he was the man who’d run into her in the streets. She remembered these little things.

For now she would look back at the Hutt, waiting for her reaction before she would make her next move. Hopefully the newcomers would change the way things were going.

@Die Shize

 

[Perla the Hutt]

Spoiler: Music OOC

A Hutt thinks…
….Such…bugs...
Such little things.
To speak to me.

Nunion’s on Mummy.
Rubs his little tummy.
Mah precious honey...

But before her feet?
Before that queen?
With baby at teat?
If...figuratively...
Rancor meat.
…Literally..?

First the buckethead dared to speak.
Mandalorian helmet, that dark visor.
Would look so good on my high riser...

A Hutt could think…
A Hutt could drink…
Cup of her enemies…
Two men, two women.
Death…yet to begin…

Ohhh you were TOLD that I am the one in charge of this establishment?

A Hutt’s eye lingers.
Drums her fingers.
Nunion’s yawning.
Rancor’s wanting.

Perla thought about a Dagger.
Thought about a woman’s heart.
That Dagger had played his part.
Mmm she could use a dagger too.

A man was next.
Some Human head.
Had a kind of grey vest.
Headache—craned a neck.
You speak like you’re the best.

The grizzled guy could whistle into the ear of a rancor’s beer belly while his master watches on the telly as he dies miserably like gristle pie for all one Hutt could cry.

…Zad…Ruzed…Zad..Ruzed.
Rolls off the proverbial tongue.
Holds off murdering this one.
For now, anyway.
Still early, not late.

The little critters wanted information on the Daggers.
Meanwhile, Brown Eyes and Pyke-to-die wanted...
A Hutt drums fingertips on a pretty Perla’s lips.
Kyummmm what’d these fools want again?
Something about Thurla, research…uh…

“I am Perla the Hutt.”
So spoke the Hutt.
“Information is my...”
Looks left then right.

“...Station?”
Offers a guard.
“...Creation?”
Spoke another.
“Maybe nation?
“Frustration?”
“Contemplation?
“Inflation!"
“No more taxation!”
“I blew up a gas station!”
“Can we get a vacation?”
“Palpatine to palpation!”

“Letter of citation.”
Armrest read message.

“DAMNATION!”
Roars a HUTT.
“CREMATION FOR THIS ONE!”
Commands a HUTT.
“EVISCERATION FOR THAT ONE!”
Two guards are dragged away to be carved apart.
They would be examples from bottom of a heart.

“Sorry, where were we?”
A Hutt clears her throat.
Spreads her pearly teeth.
Pinkies, gold rings, both.

“Oh, that’s right, lessee…”
That smiling eye so bright!
“...Yeah…heh…kyeehee…”
A Hutt looks, thoughts cook.
Grazes baby’s cheek, leans.

“Agree to do a job for me…”
A Hutt looks between meat.
“And I’ll give ya all ya need.”
Or drop you to your knees...

"I need a Mando and a Pyke in the street..."
A button, temptation, doesn't, sips a drink.
"...A Ranger and a pretty face in a building."

@Sicadorito

 

[Zaia Krodas]

After realizing that Zad wanted to take charge here, Zaia would let him. He was the more experienced Hutt negotiator here. Whether or not he’d actually spoken to a Hutt before was beyond her, but he would definitely be better at it than her.

As everyone else droned on, the Mandalorian noticed that Perla was holding a baby. That’s what a baby Hutt looks like? Her initial reaction was still… Gross.

Whatever her thoughts on the Hutts were, they still had to do business nonetheless, and Perla seemed willing to give them what they wanted if they did a job for her.

“Ohhh, so now you want us to do your dirty work?” She tilted her head to the side, crossing her arms as she glared defiantly at the Hutt. The worm wanted her to work with a Pyke? The idea was absolutely ridiculous. But then she glanced at Zad. Was this the only way that he would be able to get closure? The last Dagger was close… and this was their only lead. She took a breath.

For Zad.

“...In any case, I accept,” she said. “What do you want us to do?”

@Die Shize

 

[Zad Ruzed]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Zaia Krodas.
Made a man laugh.
Stifled it with a cough.
In a Hutt’s presence…
Had to be a smart man.
Or get violently laid off…

Dirty work again, Ruzed.
The Mandalorian was no kid though.
She had thick skin, those Mando bones.
Had kicked shins with him—fought the bad.
Here I am…one old man…again…ha…Zad.

A Ranger had a partner who fought with him.
Her helmet was her badge—blaster, her fist.
Do. Done. Did.

An old man blows smoke to his right.
Wrinkled eyes gaze in haze: Hi, Pyke.
Cranes his achy neck this way—left.
There she is: the brown-eyed brunette.
Daggers in her eyes…bad princess…

“Aight, den.”
Shrugs Ruzed.
“Do. Done. Did.”
Aemi…I miss—
“I’m in. Let’s do this.”

Scarlet Harlot on left.
All but nods her head.
Frog Pie on the right.
Same—swats a fly.
We’re all in, Ruzed.

“EXXXXXXXCELLENT”

“...”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“?????”

“Mandalorian tags with Pyke to Bodoko Street.
It’s controlled by everyone’s hated Falleen.”
In this city, there was war between three.
“Take out the competition in a meeting.
Or just broker peace...kyeeheehee…”
The Hutt just tickled her baby's feet.

“The Ranger and the…”
Didn’t know what she was.
“...Brown-eyed brunette SLU—”
“—HCCKKHHHH!”
-SPLU-SPLARK!-
“Kark.”
“Forgot I ate another one for luncheon…”
“...Okay…”
“Moving on then.”
“Great…”
“The Ranger and the…person…”
Daggers in lips like nobody’s business.
“Will go to Gallion Sky, a private night club.”

A Hutt giggles as Nunion wiggles, gives a hug.
“Offer the owner the woman as a gift—kill him.”
Ranger sees guards gulp at that but he shrugs.
“Or arrest him. Dirt in his shirt. Creature is…scum.”

@Sicadorito

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

Idiots. Cheriss mentally facepalmed when she heard the guards. She promptly turned her attention back to the Hutt though. The offer she’d proposed was better than anything the SIth had heard so far, despite the fact that she’d have to work with a Ranger who looked too old to walk and that her role in the Hutt’s plan wasn’t the most flattering either. Still— information wasn’t free, and she could understand that.

She nodded to Perla. Once they were dismissed and were outside the throne room, she would meet the eyes of the man.

“Zad Ruzed.” She studied his face. “Sector Ranger.” Law enforcement was strange company for a Mandalorian. Their people tended to fly around and blow up everything in their way with little to no thought for the authorities. Not that she had anything against it, but the lack of subtlety in how they operated didn’t seem to fit the image she had of a goody-two-shoes Ranger. And now, he had consented to murder in cold blood in the name of a Hutt? Was this man willing to stoop that low to get information on the Daggers?

Whatever he was after, he wanted it badly. That would be useful.

“Do your part, and this will go smoothly.” And we both get what we want. “Shall we get going?”

@Die Shize