Negotiations Were Short

[Midas Drast]

It would be ridiculous if this took you more than 5 minutes. Enter Basuro's palace—where he will be waiting for you—and meet with the slug. Negotiate his terms of surrender using his son as a bargaining chip. If you are unable to come to an agreement, kill his son in front of him and take the palace by force.

Participants: @Midas Drast @Sabrina K​

This entire planet was, by and large, absolutely dreadful. Vast windswept deserts with the occasional savannah covered its entire surface, a few cities offering the only distraction from the endless dune seas. Even the cities were pitiful in comparison to the towering skyscrapers of Coruscant or the imposing fortresses on Korriban. The inhabitants of the planet were ghastly, and their rulers some of the most unsavory individuals in the known galaxy. Hutts were horrid creatures with little on their mind except for an insatiable lust for wealth and power on a superficial level.

The Sith kept a tight leash on planets within their borders, and those not yet absorbed within its folds did not last very long before they, too, flew the Sith banner. Klatooine was one such planet, and the Hutts ruling it went unchecked for far too long. Midas was here to rectify the situation and force the ruling crime lord to bow – or, rather, did… whatever it was Hutts did – before their overlords and accept Sith rule or be replaced by someone more sympathetic to their cause. This Basuro Desilijic Demdred was ruthless and cruel, but he was nothing compared to the fury and hatred of the Dark Side. His son, Jabbo, had recently been abducted to be used as a bargaining chip to secure his loyalty, as he was deeply invested in his family. Hopefully he would see reason, else it was up to the two Sith assigned to the task to take the palace by means of force.

Midas wore his armor and robes, carrying his usual gear, and casually strolled up to the palace where the crime lord awaited. The guards, after a moment of persuasion by means of the Force and Basuro’s standing orders not to harm them, allowed the two Sith entry and full access to the throne room where the Hutt awaited. Basuro’s son did not accompany the two of them; he was securely kept in a holding cell elsewhere, surrounded by an impressive array of explosives wired to a detonator that Midas carried on his person.

As the two Sith entered the throne room, the corpulent slug gesticulated wildly, welcoming them. ”The great Basuro Desilijic Demdred welcomes you, Sith ambassadors,” his translator droid said as the Hutt spoke, ”But he wonders where his son, Jabbo, is at.” Midas stopped a few paces away from the Hutt, pulling out a small holocommunicator device. It lit up, showing the distraught Jabbo in his cell staring at the camera, demanding he be released.

”He apologizes for being unable to attend,” he said, shutting off the device and stowing it, ”But I’m sure he’ll be fine. Do you know why we’re here?”

@Sabrina

 

[Sabrina K]

This was the first time she had met a Drast, she was in a little bit of awe of him. Though technically she out ranked him, but she has had a thing for nobility. She was dressed in her Battle Robes, and her lightsaber at her side. Though due to circumstances, she was going to let him do the talking. As she did not want to say anything, and look like a fool in front of a Drast. She knew the plan, take the place one way or another. She was not happy about killing a child, it did not matter if it was not human. It was was still a sentient life, that had not made its choice yet. Though these where her orders, and she would do it, one way or another. She would live with the consequences of her actions, even if it did mean killing a child. She knew her job, and it was to do what the emperor had decreed, her feelings where irrelevant at this point.

Sabrina followed @Midas Drast into the hutts palace, she kept a few paces back from him. As she was going to let him do the talking, she help in the killing if need be. The hutt asked if we where sith ambassadors, the answer was yes. Then midas did the talking, and show him a holo projection of the hutt son. She sorley hoped, that hutt saw sense and swore allegiance to the sith. She did not want to see his son die, for his arrogance that he could stand up to the sith.

@Painus

 

[Darth Parox]

.

The Hutt's predatory gaze lowered on the Sith from the moment they entered. He was sat atop a throne of sorts, a hover chair on top of a platform, and surrounded by various attendants. A monkey lizard was sitting on the Hutt's shoulder, who paid it no mind. Instead, it was staring directly at the "guests." It had about 6 guards in the room total, though it was obvious there were more throughout the palace. After a brief silence, Basuro spoke up.

"Jee keekah soh whee uba'laz wata uba," it replied, gesticulating with both hands. "Let doe mitng comenk. Mee have noah tee-tocky che t—" The doors slammed open.

A figure draped in indigo robes stormed in, a white mask on his face. He stopped next to Sabrina, murmuring something to her. The woman walked away, and the newcomer stood in her place. "I had a change of heart," he explained. "What have I missed?"

The Hutt was clearly annoyed, but treating the Sith as anything less than gods would result in the death of his son, so he remained quiet. After Milo finished, Basuro began speaking again. "Chowbaso. Jee-jee were just negotiating myo options," he explained. Milo looked at the slug for a moment.

"Basic?" he asked. His knowledge of Huttese was not yet vast enough to negotiate in the trade language. He supposed he was doing Midas a favor as well.

@Painus

 

[Midas Drast]

Midas stood stock still, observing the corpulent slug. The woman who had accompanied him, a Crusader of relative anonymity, had remained silent for the majority of their trip. She seemed to hold the Drast in awestruck regard. It was comforting that there were those outside of the Republica – now just an extension of Old Empire space – who recognized his birthright, even if the rule of the strong was in effect here and blood meant nothing. Still, her reverential silence was kind of weird, and he began to question whether or not she was plotting his downfall.

The great Hutt in front of them glowered indignantly, gesturing wildly as it spoke. However, before it could continue and have its droid translate, the doors flew open and a familiar masked figure strode in. He stopped by the Crusader, said something to her, and took her position while she left the palace. Midas turned his head and regarded the man idly, shrugging one of his shoulders. ”We were just negotiating Lord Basuro’s complete and unconditional surrender,” he said, turning back to look at the Hutt.

Basuro flailed his arms, shouting in Huttese, ”Bah, mah droida hatkocanh hhobipa che mi! Dobra bu lhonu an cakanle Basuro! Mah pomekiuog nah doth badtauih, an kuna kee moova mee nei mah wei!” As he began to rant and rave, the protocol droid by his side nodded its head stiffly and spoke up, ”The great Basuro graciously asks for the return of his son, so that negotiations may begin in amicable conditions.”

Midas folded his arms over his chest, cocking a brow. The Hutt wanted his son back before negotiations could begin? No, that would never do – the son was their bargaining chip. ”I’m afraid Jabbo is a bit preoccupied, Lord Basuro,” he began, waving his hand dismissively, ”But perhaps if you desire him to be present for negotiations so badly, I can arrange for whatever remains survive the bombs in his cell to be sent here. Now, I’m certain we can come to an agreement that keeps you in power and forfeits this territory to the Sith.” He smiled gently, awaiting a response as the Hutt began to think.

@vamp

 

[Darth Parox]

.

The Hutt seemed to almost pale as his droid translated Midas' sentence, the great big slug turning a strange shade of greenish white. His devilish yellow eyes looked fearful for a brief moment, then were back to that same, cat-like gaze that Milo had gotten used to seeing coming from Nor'baal. Basuro considered his few options for a few good seconds before speaking. The droid translated as soon as the slug finished speaking.

"His Great Corpulence has agreed to negotiate without the return of his son, provided you promise no harm befall him, and Jabbo is safely returned once talks have ended." Milo took up the baton, stepping forward, hands behind his back. Unbeknownst to anyone around, they rubbed against the hilt of his lightsaber through his cloak, the Sith ready to retaliate at any given moment. "'His Great Corpulance' is hardly in any position to make demands, don't you think?" he asked, a bit cruelly. Milo's Sith streak seemed to be shining through. "He will not negotiate with us. He will not negotiate with anyone. Our presence here is merely an 'out' to give the fat big slug a chance to join willingly. If these talks prove to be too difficult and cumbersome, we can simply blow his son to bits and take the planet by force." Milo stepped back next to Midas, an almost kind-looking smile on his face. "His choice."

As the droid translated, a hard look befell the Hutt's face, his eyes glaring at Milo, who returned the rageful gaze. His eyes drifted across the room for a moment, surveying the guards, but they looked to be as still as statues—hell, maybe they were statues. Hutts were known for delusions of grandeur, and the illusion of security was not something a slug would not have already thought of.

"His Great Corpulance will renounce all claim to the planet, and allow the Empire to seize control of the sector." Satisfied, a sly smile crept across the Sith's face.

@Painus

 

[Midas Drast]

Midas found the Hutt’s worried glower, even if it lasted only a few mere moments, to be quite the sight. Having put genuine concern for his son’s wellbeing at the forefront of Basuro’s mind, the Sith now had the edge in the negotiations. Basuro went silent as he thought about his best courses of action, and Midas patiently waited, arms across his chest as he looked on with ambivalence. The slug was taking too long, and it was only a matter of time before he went to sic his guards on them. Midas’ concerns were assuaged, however, as Basuro’s droid translated and expressed the Hutt’s only stipulation.

Before he could speak up and shut down that particular train of thought, Milo stepped forward and demonstrated the callous, cruel method of negotiation that the Sith were known for, explaining that the talks were merely the opportunity for the slug to willingly comply with the Sith before they simply took what they wanted by force. Midas’ hand drifted down by his lightsaber, the other hand resting on his hip, as he watched Basuro receive the information. His face became stern and he stared daggers at cousin Milo, who responded in kind. Midas warily watched the guards around them.

Eventually, Basuro renounced his ownership of the planet and granted the Sith permission to seize control of the planet. Wait – allow? Midas looked at Milo, then back at the Hutt, backing up towards the door. ”The Sith thank you, Lord Basuro, for allowing us the privilege to seize control of this sector,” he began, beckoning his cousin to join him, ”Unfortunately, your tone is, and I mean this as earnestly as I can, inconsistent with how the Sith ought to be treated.” He produced the detonator with a flourish, holding it up for Basuro to see. ”You really should fix your tone for next time,” he said, eying Basuro warily.

Within moments, Basuro extended a fat, stubby hand towards the Sith, bellowing out, ”Killee hoohah!” They didn’t need a translator for that.

The six guards raised their blasters, firing wildly at the two Sith. Midas drew his lightsaber, holding it out defensively and deflecting a few bolts. ”Well, okay,” he sneered maliciously, activating the detonator with his other hand. Even though they had no way of displaying it, it would be apparent that he had just blew the bombs to Jabbo’s cell, killing the Hutt in a fiery blaze.

@vamp

 

[Darth Parox]

.

Somewhere hundreds of kilometers away, a large explosions rocked an unmarked warehouse in the industrial district of a Klatooinian city. A fire would follow shortly after, which would likely spread onto the other warehouses, the uncivilized world not having many laws dictating how close buildings should be constructed, or anything like that. Through the killing of Jabbo, the Sith would have probably also damned a small town into burning to the ground. But did that matter? No.

Bolts erupted out of the blasters the guards were brandishing, and Milo was half surprised that the armored figures were not statues. The other half was igniting his lightsaber, stepping back as a shot whizzed past his face close enough for him to feel the heat on his nose. "Killee hoohah?!" he echoed as he raised his lightsaber to deflect a bolt back to its source. The guard that had fired it fell to the ground, the plasma catching his unprotected throat. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, confusion on his masked face. He could understand "kill," but what did "hoohah" mean? Was Basuro trying to say "human"?

Milo ducked again as another bolt flew over his head, this time choosing to step into the offensive. Reaching his left hand out, he coiled the Force around the neck and shoulders of a man, as if lifting him up by the armpits. Then, he picked him up a few meters off the ground and shoved him directly into his comrades. Three of the guards were sent stumbling, landing right at Basuro's feet—er, tail—the Hutt looking down at them, anger in his yellow eyes.

"Cover me!" he shouted, ducking into cover behind a couch. Milo's violator flew out of its holster and into his left hand, and he slowly began charging it up, a whoop filling the room. Terror flashed into the Hutt's eyes.

@Painus

 

[Midas Drast]

Killee hoohah?

How the hell was he supposed to know what it meant? The stupid Hutt just shouted it out and the guards began to fire at them. He figured it meant to kill them, but, then again, Huttese was a stupid, silly language, and he didn’t bother to learn it. Who cared what the Hutts thought? They were weak, and, as today had shown, prone to ill-thought out decisions. Seriously, who attacks the Sith when they had just shown a remarkable degree of mercy and still held your only son in captivity?

This idiot, apparently.

Midas looked over at Milo, simultaneously returning a bolt back to its sender, putting the guard down for the count as it bored through his chest. ”I don’t bloody know!” he exclaimed, adopting a defensive stance in order to reflect the hail of shots heading their way alongside his cousin, ”He’s obviously upset!” With two of the six guards dead, Milo went on the offensive, forcefully lifting and throwing one of the remaining four into his comrades. They flew and laid before Basuro, sprawled out and beginning to scramble back to their feet as their master looked on with disdain.

Milo cried out for cover and Midas stepped closer to him, reaching out with the Force and wrapping it around one of the guards’ blasters, forcing it to the side as he fired. The bolt seared through the leg of the man beside him and he went down with a yelp, dropping his weapon. The man who Midas had forced to commit fratricide with yanked his weapon back up and fired another bolt towards him. The Sith swept his lightsaber aside and deflected the bolt. He fired another two shots and Midas did the same, holding him at bay while Milo charged his disruptor. The keening whine of the weapon caused the guards to momentarily hesitate, knowing full well what the sound heralded. Basuro frantically looked around, then at the Sith, holding his hands up as if to surrender.

@vamp

 

[Darth Parox]

.

Bolts flew over his head and slammed into the couch, but Milo kept his violator poised on the furniture. It whined for a moment, the Hutt raising his hands in surrender, but it was too late by then. If Basuro had wanted to live, perhaps he should have thought about the consequences his actions—and disdain toward Sith—would have. Instead, he simply looked on helplessly as the violator's beam flew toward him. The Hutt practically vaporized, his upper half completely gone the moment the beam hit him. It was a strange sight, especially for those in the room that had never witnessed the effects of such a weapon, and it was very clear why it was illegal in the first place.

The guards—or what was left of them—had hesitated when they heard the weapon, but when they saw its effects, they seemingly lost all hope. Only one continued trying to fight, but was quickly shot down by his own comrades. Their enemies lowered their weapons. "Beet'z toooh peesha!" one of them called out. They were all unemployed now anyway, so they had no reason to lay their lives down to fight these Sith. Instead of dealing with them, Milo raised himself up from behind cover and headed for the exit. Their job here was done. The Empire had seized control of Basuro's palace, and the sector would yield to them soon enough.

The Drast stepped outside into the sandy wastelands, the wind blowing grains into his face. "Killee hoohah indeed."

@Painus

Fin.​