Ask #HuttDrop

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

En route to Ubrikkia...

A Shad'ruu War Barge punched out of hyperspace over Ubbrikkia. And, it was not alone. Dozens of Batil Pattern Starfighters accompanied it, as did a trio of Varl Class Frigates. After all, when the Supreme Mogul of the Hutt Clan and members of his family went travelling, they did so in style.

Deep within the throne room of the Shad'ruu, Nor'baal watched as two Gamorrean Gladiators from his personal guard tore wrestled for the amusement of him and his kin. He supped on his hookah, and mulled the plan for the days 'activities'.

<Vee kouoe tah planeeto.> he sighed, as Ubrikkia came into view. No doubt the local defenses would be demanding to know why a number of warships had come into their sector. Yet, once the Captain broadcast who was on board, Nor'baal was sure - as Ubrikkians main commercial client - they would soon put their concerns to bed...

 

[Gor'Jarr Desilijic]

Gor'Jarr couldn't help but emphatically watch as the Gamorreans wrestled. He shouted out commands to his favored fighter out of the two - a shorter, stockier one with a broken tusk. From his years on Gamorr, he had learned their bestial language all-too-well. He shouted in it, slime sputtering from his maw and he oinked and growled commands in the Gamorrean tongue. "Go for the underhook! Come on, inside control. Get his arms out of the picture." The larger Gamorrean swept behind the back of Gor'Jarr's fighter and slammed him to the ground. He rolled into an arm bar, and pinned the fighter down. 1....2....3.....

That was it. Gor'Jarr huffed and puffed as his fighter lost. <Bah! Worthless pigs.> He tossed a token number of poggats to Nor'Baal, having lost their little bet about the wrestlers. <You cannot imagine living amongst them.> Gor'Jarr's eyes to the viewport as the ships entered into Ubrikka's gravity well. How long had it been since Gor'Jarr had sat on the flagship of a Hutt fleet? He knew he hadn't done it since he was a larva, at Fa'athra's seat. How wonderful did it feel to have their armies on the march again, teaching the impudent galaxy to bow before their true rulers?

Their expansion to Ubrikka came at a pivotal moment. War raged between the Cartel and the Empire. It was still unclear who would win, and what would be left in the ruins. What was clear was that the Hutts had a leg up in negotiations. They had a unique opportunity to use their military momentum to expand their borders, expand the Hutt Cartel's reach back to its historic heights.

The Ubrikkans had to know what was coming. They were an industrial world. The Hutts were in a war that needed munitions. Their annexation was inevitable. What mattered, then, was how they annexed the world. His eyes turned to Nor'Baal. <Oyabun. This world may serve as an example of your rule as Emperor.> The rally to war had drawn Gor'Jarr out of his stupor. He still believed that Nor'Baal could, would, rule as the rightful emperor. <Perhaps this is an opportunity to show how loyal clients will be rewarded under your gracious rule. Or, how traitors will be punished.> He took a puff of Marcan hookah as he ruminated on the specifics.

<The choice is, of course, yours, Bimahau Kasii.> The two slugs made their way towards their massive skiffs, to skirt through this disgusting world towards their clients.

@Nor'baal

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

<Kanshokee!> Nor'baal boomed as the porcine pillocks failed to entertain their Hutt masters. He had no idea how Gor'Jarr had managed to keep sane living with them for so long on Gamorr. Nor'baal had left Gamorr and never looked back after seeing it signed over to the Clans rulership.

He focused his attention on the matters at hand as he moved himself over to his skiff, and made their way to exit the ship. The Shad'ruu would spit a Sheathipede shuttle out from within it, conveying them down to the planet. Four other ships of the same class followed them down to the landing pad, and upon arrival would drop their dismembarkation ramps, spewing out no less than forty Gamorreans.

Each was armoured in the classic armour of their species, Gamorrean Guard Armour, and holding brutal looking axes. At their hips, heavy pistols would be seen. The 'honour guard' was enough to buy them time to escape to their ships, should things turn sour.

Nor'baal hoped that would not happen, as three members of the Ubrikkian ruling council walked up to their landing pad, in the Ubrikkian 'industrial wasteland', and bowed in greeting.

The Supreme Mogul spoke first <Jeejee gee nan bai neu tee uempantkhiaga, an bai bkoha biw wonkee la tee dotke manpanh mah bakanu.> Nor'baal boomed, as the creatures before them bowed. He gestured lazily toward Gor'Jarr, for him to introduce himself.

 

[Gor'Jarr Desilijic]

Gor'Jarr declined to introduce himself. These lesser beings should prostrate in front of the mighty Hutts. They do not deserve an introduction. And, his mighty girth spoke for itself. Gor'Jarr was a Hutt. His name was irrelevant to the little beings. <Oyabun Nor'Baal is correct. Our contract's terms are very clear. Now, we must leave our space to attend to your world's mistakes.> He narrowed his eyes down at the three specimen before them. Weak, mewling creatures with lifespans like mayflies. Fit only to serve. At least the Gamorreans knew their place.

An engineer-looking one, in a hardhat, tepidly stepped forward and genuflected before the Hutts. "Mighty Hutts, we hear and understand your concerns." He gestured towards the sprawling factory-cities that sat before them. Many of the churning smokestacks and screaming pistons were...turned off. The city was unusually quiet. "It's the workers! They've gone on strike. Protesting, uh..." His eyes scattered nervously between the two others. "Protesting the conflict with the Empire. Many of the workers here are immigrants, refugees from the Empire." They obviously still held some loyalty to their homeworlds. "They formed a militia...took over the foundry beneath the city. Nothing moves until it's open. If you had read the missive I had sent..." He dare not make eye contact as he spoke those last words. One of their Gamorreans angled a spear at him for daring to imply the Hutts had faulted.

"I apologize, Lords. The fault is mine. In a few weeks, with negotiations, we will resume production as-" He was silenced as Gor'Jarr slammed his fist into his skiff. Spit and drool flung from his gaping mouth as he spoke.

<Weeks?! You make us leave our world to come before this pitiful place, and you tell us we have to wait weeks before you honor our deal?> Gor'Jarr had half a mind to vaporize them, right there and then. <No. We are here now. You have failed to settle your problem. You are lucky to deal with the kind and noble Emperor, Nor'Baal Desilijic. We will settle this.> And by "we," he meant the complement of armed guards they had brought with them.

He looked to Nor'Baal for approval. Gor'Jarr was impatient. The war effort was spread thin between the invasions now - they needed a constant supply of freshly-produced weapons to move forward. It was time to lead the Ubrikkans with a more direct hand.

@Nor'baal

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

Nor'baal fanned himself as Gor'Jarr lampooned the simpering whelps sent to represent the planet. As ever, he feigned a general lack of interest, looking away and focusing on his surroundings, whilst in truth keenly listening to every word that slithered from their mouths. Gor'Jarr was correct, dragging the Hutts out of their palaces to attend to this matter, only to promise that it would be rezolved in 'weeks' was an insult.

He flicked the fan shut.

The Guards shifted a little, their masters attention promising the prospect of great violence. Nor'baal slowly, and with a degree of greatly exaggerated effort moved his head to lock his gaze on the lead represenative, who immediately did everything he could do to avoid looking at the Hutt.

<Chakath?> Nor'baal did not understand. Surely the Ubrikkians had not been so foolish as to allow their workers to entertain foolish notions that they should commit any of their time to ideas not to do with their labours? <Kava gee uba cahcata tah panlamh bai paknee ata mobea?>

He rolled his eyes, his tail lashed up and down and he raised one of his hands.

<Jeejee hatkocanh bargon cay tah kae.> he signalled to his Guard Captain and pointed toward the leader Ubrikkian <Uematky, canba jen.> Nor'baal said, as if it was the simplest and most normal thing in the world.

The mans eyes widened, his nostrils flaired as a massive Gamorrean thudded over to him. "No! You can't do this? I have a family - I have a ch -" he was winded as the Gamorrean slammed his fist into the mans belly, and then quickly pulled him to his feet, a rope fastened about his neck, the other end staked to the ground as the Ubrikkian was then unceremonously thrown off the side of the landing pad.

Nor'baal smiled as he heard the telltale crack, and started his skiff toward the location of the apparent 'protest'.

 

[Gor'Jarr Desilijic]

Gor'Jarr shot the leader's body with a round from his Lightning Gun for good measure. His corpse drifted into the wind.

Their skiffs made their way towards the city center. It was a gradual pace, but the city was quiet enough for the two of them to be left alone with their thoughts. Gor'Jarr studied his Oyabun closely as he pondered their current situation. Where did Gor'Jarr stand in the ranking of his family, he wondered? How did the fate of the war hang upon Nor'Baal's head?

<Oyabun. The kajidic chatters with pride at your actions.> The war had practically jump-started the excitement of the Hutt Cartels. For too long they had been ignored by the galaxy, disrespected by the legions of the weaker species. Now, they would know that the Hutts were no paper tiger. Their power was a divine rod of beskar that would rule over all the nations.

<How does this world factor into our designs?> Obviously, another factory-world would help their interests generally. But did Nor'Baal want to rule over these people? Did he want to rule the Empire's subjects as subjects? Could the Cartel withstand the transition from criminal empire to true Imperium?

@Nor'baal

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

His relative was good at pouring on the praise, Nor'baal would give him that. The recent moves by the Clans had put them on the map as more than a 'backwater authority', instead now they where a 'galactic power'. He looked at Gor'Jarr as he moved his skiff toward the quadrangle, the up-and-comer was just that, an ambitious member of the Desilijic, one who was proving to be most useful.

<A factory world like Ubrikkia is always of use. But as far as I am concerned, if others can rule effectively in our stead, why should we stop them?> he asked <Yet here, their rule as hardly been effective. Strikes, their tribute falling - now we must resolve their petty disputes for them. WHen the time comes, Ubrikkia will be enveloped into Hutt Space, a Hutt of our Clan placed as its Daimyo, and expected thereafter to ensure the profitability of our investment in taking the world.> Nor'baal confirmed.

Truth be told, the transition from Criminal Empire to Imperium was a simple one. Hutts, after all, where predispositioned to rulership, it was their wont. The lesser species yearned for the leash, the firm hand of the Hutts to guide and instruct. Their model of Imperium was a simple one, subjugate the masses, instill order through terror and corruption, and focus power and influence around the local Hutt leadership.

There really was not much else to it.

Next, Nor'baal cast his gaze across the city center, where a large gathering of workers stood, holding placards with ludicrious slogans appear to ask for 'better workd conditions' and 'more pay'. Nor'baal scoffed at the absurd nature of their requests.

Quickly, the Gamorreans moved to form two lines in front of their masters, who still towered high enough to be clearly seen above the lines. Nor'baal coded a message to the ships above to load up their own shuttles to send more Gamorreans down, hoping they arrived soon.

<Give these welps a chance to get back to work. If not, send in the Boars.> Nor'baal nodded to Gor'Jarr.

 

[Gor'Jarr Desilijic]

Gor'Jarr smiled as Nor'Baal passed the proverbial rod to him. Time to make some friends!

The Hutt entourage was highly outnumbered. Thousands of workers were visible, chained to statues and buildings, as they refused to end their occupation of public space. Yet, amidst the chanting protesters, Gor'Jarr felt no fear. The Hutts were capable of using the carrot and the stick. Such was their true power - manipulation of desire, manufacturing the consent of the governed through simple pleasures. Once this was a true Hutt world, these cretins would be too hopped up on spice and distracted by the pleasures of the flesh to realize they had lost their sovereignty.

He cleared his throat magnamoniously. <Workers of Ubrikka! Oyabun Nor'baal Desilijic Fa'athra and the Desilijic Kajidic have heard your cries. You demand fair compensation. We need your valuable services.> There had been...3 executives here, no? Three greedy CEOs milking these workers for all they were worth? The Hutts would need to look at their executive compensation. Already, they were down to two. With a wave of his hands, he summoned the other two executives to his side.

<Effectively immediately, you will all have a bonus - equivalent to the excessive salaries of your CEOs. Let it be known that the Hutts are gracious rulers.> The two executives looked puzzled. But the realization dawned on them that they were out of a job. One went to protest, to remind the Hutts that this was not lawfully their business.

Gor'Jarr withdrew his boonta blaster and fired two shots into the executive's skull, in the center of the square. She fell, unceremoniously, as her blood began to pool towards the protestors. The other executive genuflected before the Hutts, shaking in fear. Gor'Jarr retired the smoking blaster to the folds of his fat yet again.

<Such is our graciousness.> He lowered his voice to communicate directly with the remaining executive. <Sign over the company. You will be spared. And, you will receive a too-generous exit bonus.>

His voice boomed again. <Workers! You now know the mercy of the Desilijic Kadijic! We declare today, a day of feasting and merriment, at no expense to you!> Tomorrow, they would be forced to work at gunpoint by the Gamorreans. Gor'Jarr looked on, slimily, to Nor'Baal for approval.

@Nor'baal

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

A ripple of fear spread across the protest as Gor'Jarr silenced the mewlings of the Ubrikkian executive in a matter of seconds. If he could do that to him he could do it to them? Nor'baal remained impassive, speaking now would only serve to detract from the gravity of his compatiots message. He had no doubt that once this pitiful planet was turned over to the Desilijic, the masses would fall in line.

Those who did not would hang with the others.

Bonuses offered to the workers would quell them in the meantime, a small price to pay to get them back to work. Then the Gamorrean overseers the Hutts would fly in during the workers day of celebration would keep them in line when they awoke and had to get back to work. That, combined with the money the clans would make from peddling spice to the nearby cities and towns would more than make their investment worthwhile.

<Good.> Nor'baal nodded his approval of the plan, as the mortified CEO signed the company over to them, desperate to save his own skin. He watched as the workers began to trickle away, heading to cantinas and pubs, where they would find drink, and spice, laid on at the expense of the Desilijic. When they had gone, he turned to the final executive.

<Take him to the ship.> the Supreme Mogul stated, as a Gamorrean clasped the man in irons. From CEO to slave - how the mighty could fall so fast beneath the gaze of ire of a Hutt.

 

[Gor'Jarr Desilijic]

A raucous night spend with spice, alcohol, and sex for a planet of tired workers gave way to a brutal, city-wide hangover in the morning. Many were woken up from the Cantinas by the butts of axes - consequences of the delegation of Gamorreans that were now the acting security of the factory town. They corralled workers out of the cantinas in the direction of the massive foundries, which slowly began to churn to life.

Gor'Jarr did not partake in the vice of spice, though. Such things were better to sell than to partake in. Gor'Jarr had gotten a full night's rest, and yawned aboard Nor'Baal's pleasure yacht as he enjoyed a massive breakfast with the Supreme Mogul. He threw a tankard of caf into his throat, equivalent to a sip of espresso by his measure.

As he began to munch on pastries and rare meats, he passed a datapad to his droid security, who in turn walked it across the room to Nor'Baal. <Day one begins, Oyabun. I read over the performance of this world's factories more closely last night.> Despite the planet-wide strike, there was still one factory that had record performance ratings on the world. Scabs. They would be useful, especially if they were as efficient as their production numbers implied. <We have shown the little people what happens when they betray us. Now, let us show the loyal ones the rewards of your generous rule.> If there were extra privileges, bribes, gifts, drugs, that these diligent workers needed to improve their morale, Gor'Jarr was more than happy to supply them.

But he never forgot his place as Scion. He gestured a drumstick towards Nor'Baal. <If that is your will, of course.>

@Nor'baal

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

The sun broke over a 'bright new dawn' on Ubrikkia. Workers would be returned to their factories, under the wholesome supervision of their new Gamorrean overseers. Overnight the Hutts had shipping in vast numbers of Gamorreans from Gor'Jarrs 'home' of Gamorr, bringing over heavy handed 'foremen' to ensure the workers kept their heads bows and their backs bent.

Nor'baal however had not slept soundly.

Nightmares of revolution had dogged his sleep, as the did with greater and greater frequency these days. He remembered the dark days, when Hutticide was allowed, when his people had been but a footstep away from succumding to the hordes of barbarians that flooded to their gates.

It could happen again!

The thought had not left him as he had awoken and made his way down to Gor'Jarr for breakfast. <Those who did not join the strikes should be rewarded.> Nor'baal replied flatly. You could not run a successful despotism unless there was fear and doting in equal measure.

Disloyalty would be punished, and loyalty rewarded.

<Sort them, those of a keen mind must be accepted more rapidly for advancement. The able bodied could be moved to foreman duties, let the strikers know that those who work well are heaped with praise and reward.> he commanded.

 

[Gor'Jarr Desilijic]

<Indeed.> Gor'Jarr replied, flat tone meeting the Supreme Mogul's. It would take some time to iron out the kinks of a rebellious world. Gor'Jarr would remain here until the job was done. The Hutts no longer had a need to act through intermediaries - their family was large enough, strong enough, that they could lead from the frontlines. It would teach the people to fear their betters. Show them, the fairytale monster is sometimes real.

<We'll hold court here.> Gor'Jarr decided. He was done venturing out to their little cities. Now, they would have to appear before the Hutts. Coming here was enough of a kindness to them. <I'll have the guards send a missive.> He didn't ignore the troubled look upon the Supreme Mogul's brow. It would be inappropriate to ask, but he ventured towards his Supreme Mogul's discomfort. <The Hutts are on the rise again, Oyabun. This is a moment of great pride for you, and for every Desilijic.>

Hours passed as they enjoyed a massive breakfast. The only sounds Gor'Jarr cared for were the slurping sounds of food going down his gullet. He hated the Ubrikkan musicians they had tried to bring before the Hutt entourage. He missed the Gamorrean jizz-wailers of his own palace. How good it would be to return.

Eventually, as morning turned to afternoon, the first of the loyal factory workers began to trickle in to the Hutt palace. Hardhat in hands, covered in grime, they stood quietly before the Hutt lordas. He could smell their stink from the entrance. One of Nor'Baal's many toydarian speakers announced their arrival.

"Presenting the Mighty Emperor, Nor'Baal Desilijic Fathra, Supreme Mogul of the Hutt Clans, Oyabun of the Desilijic Clan, and rightful and lawful ruler of the Galactic Imperium. Mighty Emperor, I present...Skak, Deven, Eek, and Bog, foremen of the arms plant in District 5."

The workers gave toothless smiles.

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

Nor'baal reclined on his opulent dais, a slow and deliberate chuckle emanating from his gargantuan form. His eyes, glistening with avarice, surveyed the scene before him. Gor'Jarr's flat tone had reached his ears, and the mention of the rebellious world and the Hutts' resurgence piqued Nor'baal's interest.

<Indeed, Gor'Jarr.> Nor'baal's response rumbled through the chamber, his slimy skin undulating as he shifted on his seat. <The rise of the Hutts is a force to be reckoned with, and this rebellious world shall learn the cost of defiance.>

As the Supreme Mogul of the Hutt Clans continued to speak of holding court and the perceived kindness extended to the rebellious world, Nor'baal's bulbous eyes flickered with a hint of amusement. His tail coiled lazily lashed the ground as he listened to Gor'Jarr's plans.

<Continue your efforts, Gor'Jarr.> Nor'baal's voice oozed authority. <Let the fear of the Cartel echo through every corner of their cities.>

The Hutt lord reveled in the sight of the loyal factory workers, their presence a testament to the control exerted over the rebellious world. The announcement of his titles and the introduction of the foremen drew a pleased grumble from Nor'baal. He extended a massive hand in a languid gesture, acknowledging their presence.

<Welcome, foremen.> Nor'baal's voice boomed, <Your service to the Hutt Cartel is duly noted. Let this be a reminder to all who dare defy the might of the Hutts.> The toothless smiles of the workers were met with a calculating gaze, the Hutt 'Emperor' already envisioning the continued expansion of his influence through the obedience of those who served him.

He gestured to Tooga, his useless Majordomo, who fluttered over. <They are gormless idiots, the lot of them.> he lamented, his yellow eyes narrowing as he beheld the foremen with contempt.

<My deepest apologies, Oyabun Nor'baal Desilijic, the illustrious and formidable leader of the Hutt Cartel. Your sagacious judgment in promoting Skak, Deven, Eek, and Bog showcases your unparalleled insight into the intricate workings of our operations. > Tooga began, piling praises onto his master <Your benevolence in granting them these positions is a testament to your magnanimity and strategic brilliance. May your influence and power continue to expand, casting an ever-greater shadow over the galaxy. How may I further sing your praises, wise Oyabun?>

The Hutt rolled his eyes, Tooga failing to answer his question at all. <But these men are fools? Am I just to be surrounded by idiots, and then promote the gormless spittle laden ingrates of this planet, should they show loyalty to us?>

Tooga hastened to reply, bowing as he spoke <Revered revered leader of leaders, your wisdom in recognizing the need for competence in your ranks is unparalleled. It is only fitting that you, in your infinite discernment, surround yourself with the most capable and loyal individuals.> he splutted a little, trying desperately to find an answer to his masters question. <Should these foremen prove unworthy, your swift and decisive action will undoubtedly maintain the excellence befitting your esteemed position. Your pursuit of greatness is an inspiration to us all. How may I further extol your virtues, wise Oyabun?>

Nor'baal silenced the fluttering idiot with a gesture of his hand, and refocused his attention on Gor'Jarr.

<You have done well Gor'Jarr. The workers returned to work, new foremen, and this pathetic planet is under out thumb once more.> he nodded his appreciation to the other Hutt. Nor'baal mulled over how best to reward these loyal worker, and to reward Gor'Jarr.

<Find these ones better lodging, and double their food allowances and pay.> he instructed, dismissing the workers from his sight, and resisting the urge to have the entire room chemically washed to rid himself of their stench.

Next he turned his focus to Gor'Jarr.

No doubt he would want things now. Nor'baal licked his lips, he contemplated giving the worm nothing. What exactly would he do? HUH?

No. No. Foolish.

Tooga fluttered up to him, urging his master to reward Gor'Jarr in a series of urgent whispers. Nor'baal could not give the Hutt to much, elevating him to a position where he could start making designs on anything more than serving him, the Supreme One.

But he had to throw him a bone, surely?

<And for you, Gor'Jarr - I name you protector of Ubrikkia.> an honourary title yes, and a double edged sword. Honour was good, but as protector he needed to keep this planet safe from threats outside of Hutt Space. <Furthermore, you shall be moved into the main Desilijic Compound on Nal Hutta, away from that squalid hovel you call a home. And, if you are to live in my palace, you must have a greater stipend to afford to keep up appearances.>

<An astute decision, Oyabun Nor'baal Desilijic. You, without a doubt, stand as the epitome of Hutt greatness, guiding the destiny of the Hutt Cartel with unparalleled wisdom and authority. May your reign endure, and your legacy echo across the galaxy as a testament to your unmatched prowess.>

Nor'baal slapped Tooga around the face, silencing him, as he waited for Gor'Jarr to speak.

 

[Gor'Jarr Desilijic]

'Protector of Ubrikka'? An empty title with much promise. Protecting the newest asset of the Hutt Cartel would bring him great pride, and a pathway to power eventually. Being Nor'Baal's most competent <You honor me, Oyabun. I will call a feast in your name on Nal Hutta, to celebrate your acquisition of this jewel and of the imperial territories' underworlds.> Feasts were rather common, though. Perhaps it was time for a more daring event. Gor'Jarr would not waste time in his ascent, though. After the workers were eventually escorted out, Gor'Jarr summoned the captain of the Gamorrean Guard to his side. <Rest assured, Oyabun. I will prove worthy of this great honor. I will not fail the Kajidic.>

<Follow them home. Interrogate their families. Learn why they are loyal. Make them fear disloyalty.> The pigman oinked out a reply as he lazily saluted, summoning a cadre of Gamorreans armed with axes to his side. <Bring a protocol droid.> He imagined interrogations would go better with something that could speak Basic. Another meal went down his gullet. He was pleased by today's proceedings.

Eventually, Gor'Jarr deigned to move. It was high time these Ubrikkan mongrels knew what lay ahead in their future. He had agents set up massive projectors across the world - those were images that could. <Hear me now, whelps.> His fist slammed into the tables <My first act as Protector. I will move the largest three Clans of Gamorr to Ubrikka immediately. They will serve as our hand. They alone will keep you safe.> This, too, was a dual-edged sword. The Gamorreans had been loyal aides to the Hutts for millennia, yet they were the lowest on the totem pole in terms of Hutt rule. As Scion of Gamorr, Gor'Jarr felt oddly possessive and empathetic towards the creatures. And he knew the quality of solider they were when properly motivated. <You will all honor the Oyabun, the Emperor, Nor'Baal Desilijic Fathra daily.> He spread his hands wide. <Rejoice. The Hutts have liberated you from ignorance.> And with that, he closed off the video signal.

Moving clans here would provide the means for their expansion. The weaker clans of Gamorr could expand into their old holdings, expand their population, become stronger. These large clans could create new breeding pens, gladiatorial arenas, and hunting ground here on Ubrikka. Sure, the planet was covered in industrial waste, but the Gamorreans were tough. That's what made them good.

<The clans will be the instrument of our domination. The ironworkers here will turn them from a barbaric rabble to a legion of iron.> A fierce weapon for a Hutt in need of a professional army.

@Nor'baal

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

A smile ached its way across Nor'baal's face, as ugly as an abscess as he gurgled with delight. <Ah, Gor'Jarr, Scion of Gamorr,> Nor'baal's deep voice resonated, a subtle purr of approval laced within. <I am sure your forthcoming dedication to protecting Ubrikka and expanding our influence does not go unnoticed.>

As Gor'Jarr pledged to call a feast in Nor'baal's name, the Hutt's slimy flesh seemed to undulate in delight. <A feast, yes, but perhaps it is time for a spectacle that transcends the ordinary. Let the underworlds of Imperial territories revel in our triumph. A grand event that echoes through the cosmos, marking the ascendancy of the Hutt Cartel.> Nor'baal waxed lyrical, wallowing in his arrogance.

The exchange of loyalty and assurance unfolded Gor'Jarr's determination to prove his worth evident. Nor'baal nodded in silent acknowledgement. <Worthy you are, Scion of Gamorr. The strength of our Kajidic lies in the competence of its leaders.>

As Gor'Jarr gave commands to follow workers home, interrogate families, and instil an overarching sense of fear across the planet, Nor'baal's eyes gleamed with approval. <Fear is a potent tool, my Scion. It is the currency of dominance. Exploit it wisely.>

His attention shifted a little as Gor'Jarr broadcast his will to Ubrikka. Nor'baal observed as the Scion of Gamorr asserted his authority, bringing the might of Gamorrean clans to bear upon the planet. The dual-edged sword of loyalty and control in the form of Gamorrean legions was a strategic stroke that intrigued Nor'baal. Perhaps Gor'Jarr was one to watch?

<The clans as the instrument of our domination,> Nor'baal mused, his mind already turning the wheels of strategy. <A legion of iron, moulded by the ironworkers of Ubrikka. A formidable force indeed.>

With a wave of his enormous hand, Nor'baal signalled approval. <Continue, Gor'Jarr. The grand spectacle unfolds, and the Hutt Cartel's dominion expands. Ubrikka shall be a jewel in our crown, and its clans, the steadfast hand of our will.>

As the holographic transmission concluded, Nor'baal leaned back in his seat, a devious grin spreading across his face. A few pieces on the grand game of Hutt power had been moved, and the galactic underworld awaited the unfolding of the Hutt Cartel's great design.

"Mighty and everlasting one, most tyrannic and benevolent of masters." Nor'baal sighed as his Majordomo just had to ruin his fun. "Your esteemed relative, great and potent in his command, which you have seen fit to bestow upon him, may mask his true intention -" The Supreme Mogul waved a hand, moving the Majordomo on.

"Your astute awareness will serve as a shield against potential betrayal, ensuring the Hutt Cartel remains secure under your sagacious rule, Supreme Mogul. Tooga sniffed, fluttering behind Nor'baal to provide a space was kept between him and Gor'Jarr, lest he is overheard. "I merely acknowledge the potential risks inherent in the complex web of Hutt politics. Your discernment and strategic foresight will ensure the continued strength and unity of the Hutt Cartel." he uttered into his masters ear.

 

[Gor'Jarr Desilijic]

Gor'Jarr merely watched as the worthless flea of a majordomo whispered poison into the Supreme Mogul's ear. No doubt trying to curry favor, secure his standing, in the eyes of his Lorda. It mattered little. In the Hutt Cartel, there was no room for outsiders, for aliens. Aliens in the court of the Hutts were political eunuchs, isolated from empire-building and any lineage outside of the favors they could buy from the Hutts. His words mattered little.

Gor'Jarr's mind wandered to the expansion of Ubrikka. A new regime was on the horizon - one where Gamorreans held rights above Ubrikkans. The ensuing mutual resentment, coupled with the soon-to-be rapid growth of the Gamorrean population, would sow unrest into the hold of the population. The Hutts could rule from afar, while the Gamorreans would become the daily instrument of terror. The population would scarcely realize that their oppression was the Hutt's goal, so occupied by hating Gammorreans they would be. The pigmen, on the other hand, would certainly abuse their authority over the planet's workers. They would become spiteful, proud. Gor'Jarr would have to have them battling, constantly, expanding into the further reaches of space to ensure that they do not become lazy. Their Hutt Empire would need a legionary backbone - armies composed by heavily-armed pigs with iron will.

As he looked at the harem, the Gamorreans, and the sorry Ubrikkans, he saw no such will. It would have to be built in time. For now, though, Gor'Jarr looked forward. <I must return to Gamorr. I will prepare to join you in your palace, Oyabun.> He could prepare the Gamorreans for their big move, as well.

<The winds change all around the galaxy, now. The masses cry not for freedom, but for stability. The Sith empire collapsed from its own contradictions, from a literal coup d'etat. The Empire that succeeded it has no leader. The New Republic is gone. The Free Worlds Alliance is gone. The Hapan Matriarchy is gone.> Change was the true nature of the galaxy. <The Cartel remains, Oyabun. We will win because we will survive.>

He would, slowly, begin to make his way off of Nor'Baal's pleasure yacht. Securing transit back to Gamorr would be much easier now that they owned the world. <Might I take the Executive-turned-slave into my harem?> It would delight Gor'Jarr to see that soft-bellied scum toil in the toilets and rancor pits of his own palace. With his new friend in hand, Gor'Jarr would leave this wretched place, to return with a veritable army of Gamorreans.

/exit thread

@Nor'baal

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

Nor'baal took a deep drag of his hookah, a satisfied smirk playing on his massive lips as Gor'Jarr's words reverberated through the room. The majordomo's sly whispers were but a distant echo in the grand scheme of Hutt politics, easily drowned out by the resounding power that emanated from the Supreme Mogul.

As Gor'Jarr spoke of the winds of change sweeping the galaxy, Nor'baal's eyes narrowed in contemplation. His vast, gluttonous form shifted slightly, the intricate patterns on his leathery skin almost hypnotic as he absorbed Gor'Jarr's plans for Ubrikka. The Hutt Cartel, in all its cunning and influence, would extend its grasp even further, weaving a web of control and discord that others could only dream of.

<I must return to Gamorr. I will prepare to join you in your palace, Oyabun.> Gor'Jarr's loyalty was acknowledged with a subtle nod from Nor'baal. The Hutt was well aware of the others capabilities in orchestrating the complex dance of power.

<The Cartel remains strong,> Nor'baal rumbled, his voice resonating with a confidence born of centuries of maneuvering in the shadows. <We will win because we will survive.> The Hutt lord acknowledged the truth in Gor'Jarr's words. Adaptability was the key to longevity in the tumultuous galaxy.

As Gor'Jarr sought permission to claim the Executive-turned-slave for his harem, Nor'baal's bulbous eyes glittered with amusement. <Granted, my loyal Gor'Jarr. May the soft-bellied scum serve a purpose in your palace that befits his station.> The Hutt's laughter echoed through the chamber as Gor'Jarr prepared to depart, envisioning a future where the Gamorreans under his command would become a formidable force within the Hutt Empire.

<The galaxy may tremble, but the Hutt Cartel endures,> Nor'baal mused, his thoughts already turning to the next intricate moves on the cosmic chessboard. The Hutt lord surveyed his dominion, confident that under his rule, the Cartel would not just survive but thrive in the ever-shifting currents of galactic power.