Ask Nar Shaddaa Parting Gifts

[Preef Callo]

Acid rain was pouring down on this side of Nar Shaddaa as it always did. Preef was used to it, or rather, he had been once, as this was the district he grew up in. His first memories involved this place, watching his parents come back from the factories where the Hutts treated them like slaves, not recognizing the new bruises from those of the day before and hoping that today they had enough credits between them to pay rent or a proper serving of sewer-watered noodles. Life is beyond rough down here.

Things were in place for Preef to leave it all behind, though. He had his ranch on Tokadana no one knew about. A place where even the Five Syndicates' best assassins wouldn't find him. He had also acquired a considerable fortune through various heists and in the distinguished service in the Crimson Dawn, something he could live off peacefully for decades to come. More importantly, though, he had found Marissa. Friends you could trust were incredibly rare in his world and he could honestly say he trusted her more than he did himself. All of it together got him interested in leaving with a blast; one big scorching message to the Hutts to treat the people of this district a little better. But it wasn't something he could do alone..

That's where the stranger came in.. at least, presumably. Someone had visited this district and said something that seemed an awful lot like suggesting Hutticide... and he had the nerve to do it in a Hutt-controlled district! Preef had simply put a feeler out, "I can arrange a meeting with a Hutt" and he was hoping this stranger was going to respond. In the meantime he made himself comfortable in one of the many shine-shacks around the factories where they sold proper sewer-riped Nal Hutta shine.. the only drink that tasted like home.. and he waited.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Cyrus Anvari]

The dark, duracrete clad alleys of Nar Shaddaa were as unclean as they were every time Wolfgang visited the smuggler's moon. He thought they might even be worse after recent events, but he wasn't quite sure. It was difficult to measure the built up inches of filth and decay week by week and the Hutt slugs that ran the place weren't exactly sticklers for cleaning. Wealth and power were wasted on them as they lounged away in their floating chairs and slime-covered palaces. Disgusting. The man had little respect or courtesy for the Hutts in general, and his opinions on the subject had been recently brought out in a brief altercation. The area he'd been in, like many on Nar Shaddaa, was Hutt-owned. Not that it mattered to Wolfgang. He considered common Hutt thugs to be more irritating than a real threat.

Nontheless it had apparently drawn someone's attention. He'd gotten word of someone who could arrange a meeting with a Hutt, which to Wolfgang meant ending its life and seizing its assets. Of course it could just as easily be a trap, so the man had brought weapons. His RSKF blaster pistol was placed on a hanging holster from his pouch-covered utility belt, while his more practical lightsaber sat mag-clipped to an underarm holster concealed beneath his coat. He was well dressed for the occasion, as he usually was when going out, his weighted cane of wroshyr wood tap-tap-tapping on the ground as he walked along the stained and garbage-covered durasteel walkways and thoroughfares, one of his probe droids idly floating along directly to his left.

He was heading to a hinted location near the factories that made low-grade alcohol for the working class and poorer criminals on Nar Shaddaa, a place he generally only visited rarely. Generally he'd send someone else to do this kind of legwork for him but in this case his curiosity won out over his disdain for dealing with the unwashed masses. The records he could find didn't had a whole lot of information about the source of the message even though he had traced it back to a Rodian who was apparently known to some as a gunslinger. Good enough for the moment.

Wolfgang slipped into a small, dingy bar while his probe droid flew off to find and deliver a return message. It didn't take too long for the droid to find the Rodian in the little place he'd settled himself in. The droid entered, swept its sensors across the room full of criminals, and then floated over to Preef Callo. It gave a short beep in greeting and then immediately displayed a holographic message overtop the table in front of him. The blue image of a seated young man looked up at the Rodian, tilting its head slightly.

"A meeting would be most welcome. We can discuss business properly at the Black Bantha." Short and simple, then the message cut out. The droid double-beeped and turned around to return to the bar- and expecting the Rodian to follow.

@Ecclessey