In the Hall of the Serpent Queen

[Retroboy]

The city of Yahmsborg stood alone on the night side of the tidally-locked, frozen moon of New Satramand, a construction of stark grey edifices amongst the blinding white. The buildings were low and squat, comprised of whatever materials the builders had available to them at the time, primarily ship-metal and stone. Biting winds carved their way through the streets, picking up detritus and carrying it along down the pathways. At the centre stood a great hall, reforged from the central command chamber of a great ship into a thing of jutting spikes and strange, brutal beauty. Within it was the court of Apophe KeYahm, Imperatrix of the Void Serpents and absolute master of Yahmsborg. Here, the coldness of the night subsided, given over to music and endless beer and food provided to those who had managed to earn royal favour.

Apophe sat draped over her throne, her features illuminated by gas-light lamps on other side of her. Their light reflected off of her metal limbs, adding a flickering, ethereal quality to her even as she stared idly at nothing in particular. In her left hand, she held a for-now empty stein that had once possessed a dark beer brewed in Yahmsborg, and in her left was a half-eaten meat-pie that had gone cold some time ago after she had ceased grazing on it. She was dressed simply, wearing a red silk tunic with a deep neck and emblazoned with pressed blue triskelions at the hip and sleeves, where they terminated at the shoulder. She wore her usual shorts as well, giving full view of how her legs terminated at the thigh to become the cybernetic limbs she was so well known for.

The sound of drums thrummed amongst the hall as others sat at great, long tables that were covered in greasy plates, discarded food stuffs and empty drinking vessels, men and women of all three tribes of the Void Serpents conversing amongst them. Though people of all stations gathered here and spoke amongst each other as relative equals, all stayed clear of the raised portion of the hall that lead to Apophe's throne. None were brave enough to risk her ire by showing anything that could be remotely construed as disrespect.

Still, Apophe remained flanked by her slave, standing to the right of her with a chain attacked to a collar around her throat. Apophe did not so much as talk to her, having entered something of a sullen mood as of late but feeling compelled to make at least a token sort of appearance even if she found the main hall too chilly and the people boring. There was no impetus for this mood, much as usual, but that mattered very little in the grand scheme of things. What mattered was that she was feeling unpleasant, and the rest of the room could read that.

However, her self-pity was interrupted by the fact that her steward entered the hall before dropping to a knee in front of the steps leading up to her throne. Apophe did not rise, only looking at him through a sideways glance.

"What is it? she asked monotonously, finally taking a bite of the meat pie only to make a face when she realized it had gone cold.

"Imperatrix, a man is here to see you," the steward began, making sure not to look directly at her. "He represents a party that has expressed interest in working with us."

Apophe sighed. She had desperately hoped not to talk to anyone today. Oh well, she thought to herself. Hopefully they are at least interesting. "Send them in," she said, not making the slightest modicum of effort to sound as though the prospect excited her.

As an after-thought, she pulled down the microphone that hung above her throne, holding it close to her mouth as she spoke. "Markus, if you're there, come up to the throne."

@Nor'baal
@Balla Vahla
@Tray Tor

 

[Asteroid]

Markus was a modest man but even he was having a hard time avoiding the prospect of gorging himself on the sheer amount of food saturated in oil and dark beer. "If you think I am paying the price you quoted me at you are out of your mind, no rifle is worth that much." Shouted a rather distressed Weequay gang boss. "Unfortunately you're not paying for just the rifle, if you would like I've got your shipment in a warehouse down the street. It takes credits to pay smugglers who don't ask questions to haul the cargo into republic space who then needs to bribe the customs inspector to look the other way while another guy transports the guns to your little clubhouse. The price is the price and if you're unhappy with it you can take your business elsewhere, just know that I own the monopoly in this sector." Markus took another drink out of his stein as the Weequay stormed off. Perhaps it was for the best. Hotheads who have no respect for the trade and lack basic understanding on the amount of people it takes to move even one illicit pistol into sovereign Republic worlds.

Then there was the loud domineering voice of Apophe that resonated throughout the main hall breaking Markus's train of thought and almost causing him to spill beer all over himself once his name was spoken. He stood up and put on his well renowned professional demeanor as he briskly walked over to the throne on which Apophe sat. "What can I do for you today m'lady?"
​

 

[Balla Vahla]

Being the personal slave to Apophe had its benefits... The pink twi'lek stood to her master's right, watching as all this chaos unfolded around her. Looking quite... Distrubed by what some of the men did to the slave woman. Laughing and sloppily groping whatever came their way as if their was last. Teema had seen worse, sure, but it was still made her appreciate her place all the more. She was sure that half, if not all, of the slave women were going to sharing a bed tonight.

It made her wonder why Apophe had picked her. Sure, pink twi'leks were pretty to look at but surely Apophe had no issue with purchasing or just out right claiming others to be hers. Teema did look quite stunning in her latest outfit, once again purchased and picked by her master. A belly dancers outfit, the cloth a dark maroon red that stood out against her pink skin and adorned with turquoise gems and gold beads. It showed off all her curves and left her legs exposed to the air. Her lekku were wrapped in their gold straps, with matching gems in the center of each bangle. It made her head feel heavy, but damn did she look good. Some of the men and woman leered at her from her perch but always when her master seemed to be lost in thought. As if they feared her reprisal for looking at something Apophe had claimed as her own.

Teema liked that. She liked the split second of fear they got in their eyes when they thought Apophe was looking. She liked seeing them sometimes scurry around her throne, trying to get a better look at Teem only to see the giant woman next to her and then run off with their tail between their legs. It was a good feeling.

Her bright yellow eyes barely focused on what was being said when a messenger ran up. If she worried for her master every time a man appoarched her, she was going to give herself a heart attack. Apophe had proven herself more then capable of defending herself against every monster and man thrown her way. Teema instead focused on her masters face, frowning when she took a bit out of her cold pie. Where were the servants? Her chain which was nailed into the side of Apophe's chair would only let her go so far. She couldn't get off the raised platform unless someone unlocked the choker from around her neck, or lifted the chain from her chair.

She stepped off to the side, making direct eye contact with another slave girl who appeared to be getting manhandled by a rather savage looking man that was either covered in blood or in some kind of red drink. Probably blood. Teem nodded her head subtly, and the slave girl quickly hoped off his lap and ran into the kitchen. Returning with fresh food and drink for Teema's master, which she handed off to Teema, not wanting to set foot on the platform. Good all fashioned fear will do that to a person. She returned to her blood soaked warrior and Teema, with a smile on her face, waited for her master to be done with the shady looking Markus or ever so casually make it clear what she wanted.

 

[Jedan Ridan]

Jedan would be lying if he said he was not at least somewhat apprehensive of the forthcoming meeting, for despite his own paymasters; there was always something unsettling about meeting another member of the rougher parts of the Galaxy. Regardless, he did not show his concern as his Numbis-Class Star-Courier made its way down to the designated landing area, waving his hand casually so as to turn off his holo-screen, which had been briefing him on the information his employers had available on the ’Void Serpents’.


Rising from his chair, and placing on his jacket, Jedan exited his cabin and moved into the embarkation area of the ship, filled as it was with around half a dozen ’Enforcers’ which formed his protection detail for the day. It was a light group, in effect there more for show; for the reputation of the Desilijic Family, and indeed the reputation of Jedan himself would serve as more than enough protection for him today.


Tapping his wrist held comm-pad, he turned off the ship's internal lights and instructed the Droid to ready the ship for his departure, for Jedan had little intention of staying here to long, after all, time was money, and both were a finite resource. With a hiss, the ramp of the ship lowered, and Jedan - dressed in his standard issue uniform stepped down, followed by his ’Enforcers’ in a loose formation behind him, their weapons held in a ‘ready’ position to avoid appearing confrontation, or underprepared.


As CEO of the ’Nar Shaddaa Sydicate’ (the somewhat legal arm of the Hutt Families interests) he was clearly authorised to be the lead figure in this negotiation, speaking for the interests of the Family, and the Syndicates subsidiaries, HyperMap, the Nar Shaddaa Security Corporation, Czerka Science & Research, Outer Rim Excavations, and of course the near infamous, Czerka News Network. Turning on his communicator, which was linked through to his headset, he activated his recording device so that he could review the meeting at a later date, and turned on his life feed to the CNN building in the neighboring system, so that the information would be recorded there as well.


Checking his heart-rate on his wrist band, he calmed his breathing,and entered the throne room at the bidding of one of the ’Imperatrix’ many minions. In truth, Jedan had not been in the direct presence of a Crime Lord for a while, indeed he preferred to communicate with his shareholders via HoloCall for this exact reason; crime was dirty. Necessary, but dirty. Offering a short bow, with the ’Enforcers’ spreading out behind him, he spoke:


’’Imperatrix, you do us a great honor by granting this audience. My Masters, the most sublime House of Desilijic, would truly be in awe of your beauty and power. he fawned in the usual way expected from the employees of Hutts ’’We congratulate you on your ascension on this world, and would wish to do business with you.’’ he fawned yet further. Although the House of Desilijic would never dream of advocating such grovelling personally, it never was a bad idea when starting such a meeting.


Jedan however was not a fan of such acts, and gently activated his his jammer, disabling his internal comms unit for a few moments, so as to ensure his Hutt masters would not be listening, and spoke more normally. ’’My Masters wish to no disrespect by sending me your Grace. My name is Jedan Ridan, CEO of the Nar Shaddaa Syndicate, it is an honor to finally meet you.

 

[Retroboy]

Apophe smiled to Markus as he approached, although it seemed a little hollow. The truth was that she respected Markus deeply: he was one of her oldest comrades and one of the major figures helping her keep her subjects in check. He had other positive qualities too - he was competent and brought savvy to the table that Apophe didn't have. Not to mention, he was far more acquainted with the ways of the inner Galaxy than she imagined she would ever be, which made him indispensable in dealing with people like the Hutts.

"You're going to help me do some dealing," she said, looking as Ridan entered into the temple. "I'm good cop, you're bad cop. But not too bad, right?" Not waiting for his response, she looked down upon this new arrival.

She recognized Ridan, mostly through HoloNet binges. An interesting choice to send her way, but certainly a calculated one by the Hutts. She had never imagined that they would send their own kin to visit her, a place like Yahmsborg had a temperature she had heard was intolerable to their kind, but truth be told she had expected someone less well-known. Not that she minded. Hopefully, she thought, that the Hutts did not believe him able to manipulate her. She was illiterate, not stupid. More than a few had mistaken impressions about that distinction.

Rather than simply lounge on the throne, she decided to descend to meet the man. She unhooked her slave's chain from the chair, and gently lead her down as she moved to meet with her new guest. She looked down at the man and his escorts, and made a sweeping gesture. She decided to neglect the tradtional Yahm greeting of a kiss upon each cheek, for it seemed to bother many of the Galactic peoples she met with. Instead, she merely extended her hand, and whether it was shaken or kissed was the CEO's choice.

"It's an honour to meet you as well," she said in a relatively warm tone. "I really like your news network."

She grinned, bearing her pointed canines. "Before we start, it's a custom of my people to share a drink before we talk business. Is there anything we could get you? Beer, wine, soda, water? I'd like to make sure you're comfortable."

She looked to the enforcers. "And your men, how about them?"

@Jedan Ridan
@Tray Tor
@Balla Vahla

 

[Balla Vahla]

A tug and she followed behind her master wordlessly, watching and eyeing the people that stood before her. She set the food off to the side, there was a small table behind the throne specfically for reasons like this and Teem managed to set her masters food and drink there before the tug made her step forward with her. Following behind, each step making her really self conscious about how the outfit billowed around her legs and showed off all the pink skin her legs had to offer.

She caught the eye of the eye enforcers, they were watching her. Looking her up and down but she was sure that they were just checking to see if she was armed to not. Which was just silly, where did she have the room to hide a weapon on her being? Under the see through fabric that covered her legs? To just rub salt in the wounds she turned slightly, sticking her butt at the enforcer and shaking her butt, making a tiny bell that rested on the bejeweled belt jingle in a high pitched manner.

It was also her literally shaking her butt at someone.

The enforcer seemed didn't seemed amused and looked away. Making Teem sigh quietly, did no one know appreciate her butt? It was a good butt. Very round and firm. It was only firm because she was skinniest thing in the room here, other then Markus. But no one was checking out Markus's butt. Her firmness came from her bones. Good old bones. She had no idea where Markus got his butt.

Maybe his mother?

 

[Markus Chekhov]

Normally Markus would elect to work alone with clients, however he had a feeling that whoever was meeting with the Imperatrix was not solely interested in his wares. "Perhaps it would be better if I handled the financial side of the discussion." He responded, taking his place at the side of her throne with his hands behind his back. A few moments later the doors to the longhouse opened as a man entered wth several bodyguards in tow. "Anyone with that many guards is either terrified or compensating for something." He sudo whispered to Apophe before the man came into earshot. ​

Markus's mood soured when he realized that the man was affiliated with the Hutts. While he was doubtful that the crime family ran by a bunch of obese lizards knew or even cared of his existence, Markus had his history with the crime families. On many occasions they unwittingly stole his clientele not because of better rates but simply because their name carried more weight than his. Markus remained silent as Jedan spoke with Apophe, waiting until his expertise was needed. ​

 

[Jedan Ridan]

If there was any benefit to be had (bar the tedium and insanely long hours) of heading up one of the largest media groups in the civilised galaxy, it was that it gave one access to an almost unprecedented amount of information. Indeed, the volume of traffic that passed through the Outer-Rim data centres of the Czerka Media & News Group was almost enough to make ones mind melt. However, on today of all days it had proven most useful; and enabled the CEO to master the pleasantries of this particular brand of diplomacy. His researchers had informed him that the local custom here was to 'kiss' a hand when offered, and so Jedan did it with as much flair as he could manage.

''I really like your news network.''

You're about as clever as our average demographic anyway. the man thought to himself, marvelling it his own sardonic wit as his broke a humble smile and a gentle bow in recognition of the praise for something which sat at the heart of his web of influence. As she moved on to offer him a drink, he dismissed the idea of having it tested for poison, after all, it was not exactly befitting for him to have something analysed when it was intended as a gift.

''My men will not partake I, however shall be delighted to follow your lead; and drink what you suggest Imperatrix.'' he replied, casting his gaze over to the other man in the room (@Markus Chekhov), his calculating gaze deeming the man to be little by way of a threat at present. It was clear he was observing Jedan as much as Jedan was returning the favour himself, but for now, the Media Boss paid no heed, and simple waiting for the drink to arrive.

 

[Retroboy]

Apophe looked to Teema as she shook her butt in front of the guards, and her eyes narrowed a little. Gently, she jerked the chain, not enough to hurt, and whispered a "be nice" to the slave. She wanted to make sure that Ridan didn't get offended by anything. Inner galactics were, in her experience, persnickety little primadonnas so it was always best to be careful with their kind.

She also gave a nod to Markus. Apophe was many things, but a financial wizard was not one of them. Markus was best to handle these things, no matter how hands-on she wanted to be. At the very least, she knew she could trust Markus in that sort of thing. He was very reliable.

Thankfully, Ridan had given her the choice on what they were drinking. She looked to a slave, and beckoned him to bring her the Special Alderaanian. In truth, it was a fortified wine with a particularly potent but undetectable, at least to the nose and palate, alcohol content. She had found in her line of work, it was best to get those she negotiated with a little bit drunk, so that they would be more flexible and more forthcoming with their intentions. The content of the Special was enough to do the job for most people, but Apophe's size meant that she would not feel a thing well after most others would be completely plastered. The wine even tastes fairly good, being slightly sweet in flavour and smooth in texture.

The servants hurried, bringing out two goblets inlaid with pearls, gold and other finery, and gave them to both Apophe and Ridan. Meanwhile, Markus was giving another cup, one not filled with the fortified wine but a much less strong red kind that was fruity and pleasant to the taste.

Apophe, smiling, offered a toast.

"To your health, Mr. Ridan," she said. "And may my people and your employers enjoy a long and fruitful relationship."

@Nor'baal
@Tray Tor
@Balla Vahla

 

[Markus Chekhov]

The more Markus looked at the CEO the more he wanted to strangle the pompous tool. He disliked doing business with those that kept both a civilian presence in the Republic and a identity in the outer rim. Markus had found out the hard way that people who live in the core worlds and attempt to dabble with the black market had a tedency to attract law enforcement. With reluctance Markus took the cup of fruity wine from the server girl and took a sip, shifting the crimson liquid around in his mouth before swallowing it and handing his cup back to the servant.

"In the interest of time Mr. Ridan I'm just going to cut to the chase, what is it exactly that you want?" Markus bluntly said as he took a cigarette out from a case in his jacket, lighting it and taking a long drag off of the white tube before replacing the case and exhaling a small cloud of smoke.
@Jedan Ridan​

@Nor'baal