Ask Tatooine Safety First

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

Location: Desilijic Palace, Tatooine​

Nor'baal was doing what he loved most in all of Hutt Space, telling up his profits. The leader of the powerful Desilijic clan, and the head of the Hutt Grand Council, was bent over his datapad, his chubby fingers prodding and picking away as he calculated the percentage of profits and extrapolated it over the next three years. The graph which was thereafter presented to him made his heart skip a few beats, and he let out a soft laugh which echoed around the cavernous room that featured as his private office.

It was rare for the Hutt to be alone; even now, he was as close to it as he ever would be. Ever since the worrying attempt on his life by a would-be business associate, the Hutt had taken additional measures to ensure his own well-being. Whilst he poured over his datapad, a collection of some six Gamorreans, armed with brutal-looking combat blades at their hips, stood on guard. Two flanked the door into the office from his throne room, and the final four kept pace with the Hutt, standing as if to form a square around him.

Finally, he had a pair of trained Corellian hounds padding about next to him, sniffing the air and awaiting his command to attack.

All-in-all, Nor'baal knew he needed more security these days. It was one of the reasons he had agreed to meet this newcomer, some bug-like alien that wished to talk to him about this exact matter. He was convinced it was some sort of trap, but curiosity for the better of him, and so he had agreed to the meeting. Upon arrival, the bug-like alien would be divested of his weapons and armour and escorted into Nor'baals office for his private audience.

 

[Gom Jabar]

The Verpine known as Gom Jabar knew the process would take a while, it always had and always would have. But he tried to make it quick, ensuring the potential client awaiting him would be less annoyed when he arrived. With a twist of the gauntlets near the elbow, the entirety of his lower arm armor assembly came off: vibro claws and all. He next went to his helmet, carefully removing the oxygen tube from the foremost section before slowly pulling the metal mug from his own head. The armor was now depressurized. With that, he removed the custom built jetpack and set it beside his helmet, before moving to unclamp his boots.



The whole process may have taken slightly north of ten minutes to complete, which would have been eight flat if Gom Jabar did not have to keep swatting away the grubby hands of other guards. They wished to pick up the armor, to examine it, one even jested about trying it on. These guards were certainly the kind to leave their VIP open to attack. He would whip them into shape soon enough. But now, he had to do the part of the job that he considered the most dangerous: the job interview. The now bare Verpine stood and turned about face, its chittinous moving towards frame walking towards a pair of guards who stood ahead of the door he needed to enter. Now, he waited for them to part...


<Kaa hutta lorda bimay, kava lhonu an kounadi uba ye wanya yabee. Haku wa hhosaba da bo hatkocanh pihdeza hee duapa peee bai chakaptka twa lumpa doth tee ree mee wuona, um bantkoke koutoze dopo bai killee mee grandness. Jee nai bai bouih bankop uba an bahia peee wa yicei chahsonh, banbonzay uba tee dayane donee vehpobaee kaa chakee phata mee mevag an mee pahma bacota.> He bowed towards the massive Hutt as he entered, his upper torso bending forward as his lanky arms moved out to the side. The being outside of the armor was tall and lanky, his frame armored naturally with insectoid chittin. Each step echoed oddly in the air, his armored joints clacking with each movement. He waited a moment before moving his head to gaze up at the Hutt, awaiting the order to stand fully.

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

As Gom stalked into the room, the door slammed shut behind him, and the Corellian hounds began to slink toward him before stalking in a wide circle as they padded around the interloper, snarling and yapping. Within moments of entering the room, the Verpine began to chatter on in Huttese, filling the air with flattery before coming swiftly to the point - he wanted a job, and dropping into a deep bow.

<Beu.> he snapped at the hounds, who quickly complied, one sitting a few feet behind the Verpine, the other a few feet off to his right. Nor'baal looked the creature up and down. He had not dealt with one of his species in quite a while, and he lacked the intimidating factor a Hutt often looked for in his bodyguards. <Wonkee?> he asked directly. The Hutt was interested as to why this person whom he had never met, was so interested in securing such an important position in his retinue, and so quick to ask it of the Hutt, without proving himself trustworthy first.

Nor'baal did not give Gom leave to rise from his bow, he was feeling particularly malicious today.

<Jee gee biweoo lohba, haku dayan gee Jee see bo peee bakath tee peee uba? Tee bai geh, kava woy Jee bla uba tee dotke wa dotmuaha, an kahkesonh, wa ukaueth banba bai mah banki danko bai kanweuky an bidwata biw mi an mah lanka?> he snarled at the creature, keen to hear his answer to such a weighted claim.

 

[Gom Jabar]

The Verpine's compound eyes registered no sign for him to rise, so his head simply lowered again. His gaze was floor bound, his greenish chittin unquivering. The only other sound beyond his voice was the soft clacks of his mouth moving, the various armored segments softly clicking together as the appendages moved.

<Mee dauau koudanala, uba doth sa vehpobaa cay wa lhonu mee lohba. Fa ah lhonu besna see mee dokahn mevag. Jee koee sa tee doth peee dopo peee heee lohba du tah bmaleoi litka see lohba, um peee Jee nan doi lee chalya mi ba bokeua. Cheespa hhoph tee ritke bacaka wa pheca lorda, um bu cuee lhoie dotkola du bu yoskah peee uba lwaa doth. Kuna kee gee pankensanka bphew bimhee che uba, cay mee bamhaw see pacmhanaduee, che hih jobauekahe kae blanoha da caiot apoya. Tah heee uba, kaa lhonu bo, koee doth jahke bai bankobabeha mee kouocea kaiou dooo bankop la woy wa yatuka. Bu Konbouaheon coo doneha, che dopyacmi, yoiit tee doth cahcata hee koumhaptece du ban wa paniane banbonzahag pankhobacoha. Mee yae koee doth koucaue an gusha, um haku la dayan ah cuoneth. An Jee phaba whao mee lhonbag cahcata mi, Jee nai bai mo mah duapa kae don bargon u hee Jee koee jeeska da lhotase dotkola vehpe heai jansee peai dodi.> He knew the Hutt was in a quite awful mood, so he needed to throw nore flattery in. The Hutt was correct though, much of his last work was indeed for clients of much less... important caliber. Yet he still made somewhat of a name for himself, so he decided to take this shot. If need be he felt he could go further, but if the Hutt felt it was forced that also may not not a good idea.

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

Nor'baal continued to stare, absent-mindedly at the genuflecting alien as he mulled over what he had to say. He huffed on his pipe. He could have the chitinous cretin crushed in a moment, the Hutt reminded himself, as Gom suggested that his security was anything other than perfect. Power! The power to have his enemies decimated! Power to have their homes torn down and set afire! Power to obliterate the stinking flea-infested hovel this two-bit insectoid no doubt called home! Power! Power second only Sith Emperor himself!

No, he corrected himself. His power was limitless and beyond definition in terms of both scope and awe. He was god! Limitless resources at his command, legions of assassins, bodies beyond counting at his beck at call! His was the power to rule, to hold the entire syndicate, in a fist of iron! He would squeeze that claw until the galaxy screamed, and everything knew it lived only because he allowed it!

He shook his head, as the lingering power-mania induced by his spice pipe waivered. His mind railed with horror as his newfound magnificent deserted him. There were enemies everywhere!

He stared at the alien before looking around the room as if scouring it for the traitor who had, undoubtedly, sent this lick-spittle to assassinate him. There would be blood, flowing as if in a river, once he found the person responsible. He would have them brought to him in chains, he would tear their limbs and eat them!

Nor'baal jumped briefly as he thought he saw a would-be killed emerging off to his right. Alas, it was only a shadow - a trick of the light. He twitched in terror, even knowing his enemies tried to deceive him. More troubling perhaps, than his undignified display of fear, was the little yelp the Hutt had let out. Panic thundered through the Hutt's chest as he reached for the pistol stashed in the arm of his throne.

<Cahwebiua. Cahwebiua veee!> he mumbled to himself as he glowered at the insect in front of him. If his enemies could infiltrate his own personal guard, it would place him at immense risk - or would it? The Hutts mind raced. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer!

It was perfect.

Even if the insect, Gom, was an assassin, as Nor'baal was almost sure he was, keeping him close would be the last thing his innumerable enemies suspected! It was beyond the reckoning of even his own vast genius. He could play his enemies at their own game, sending this 'Gom' on all sorts of missions, all obscenely dangerous - that would force his enemies to protect their interests, and keep Gom alive, passing his missions, so as to keep their agent close to he, the great Nor'baal.

Such a grand scheme, surely inspired by Boonta himself!

He doubted even his enemies could conceive of anything so complex to predict that Nor'baal would hire the assassin they had sent to murder him! Only Nor'baals genius (and liberal ingestion of spice to augment his thinking) had enabled him to contrive such a deception. Destiny, truly, smiled on the wicked.

<Sa, jospi dotkola. Uba lwaa bahia mi hee, che Jee gee satasna da caiot boya bo see mee mot.> he smiled wickedly, as his latest pawn took its place in the grand masterplan of the Desilijic House. <Toupee mi, haku woy uba bla dee bmela pacahla?> he asked.

After-all, these non-Hutts where a simple and foolish lot, and it would be mean to not take advantage of their idiocy.

 

[Gom Jabar]

Gom Jabar's antennae gently bobbed a moment as he thought on the question. He did know some about the drug in question, but not much that is very specific. It now was a topic he would need to read up on after this to fully understand. He took a moment to collect all the information he had, and spoke as plainly and respectfully as he did throughout this entire interview.

<Bu Bmela pacahla doth lhonu han cay bu Pyke Benbepoka, an pionpoe dotkot bidwata tytung jobauanu bu yoskah hee peee Myauah an Todaa, Pattee gee bu cuaee lhonbe bidwata. Bmela fen kae ah kepta see seiahte tohpakepa.> His mandibles clicked and clacked as he spoke, his form still bending over in the bow. His plates locked to make this as easy as possible, nearly inaudibly shifting so the joints would support themselves. The information be said was not much, he knew, but he atleast showed he had a foot in the door on the topic at hand.

 

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

Gom gave a blunt answer to the Hutt's question - clearly, Nor'baal thought, the insectoid was keeping its cards close to his chest. Maybe the creature's real paymasters were, in fact, heavily involved in the spice trade and did not wish for Nor'baal to gain any further knowledge of it? Pah! The fools! Nor'baal was already well-invested into that line of work, having once been master of Kessel itself.

Of course, a flash of brilliant paranoia struck the Hutt. His former Governorship of the spice mines would be well-known, even to his enemies. They must know of his own involvement in the spice trade, so what had they to gain from having their agent feign such ignorance? Unless they saught to spy on him - maybe this 'Gom' was not an assassin, but an informant!

He waved his hand, instructing the creature to rise from his bow. <Bu Pykes doth donsoha du bu pacahla, um bacaka tytung bu Benbepoka, la wuapt bu lania bai bu Lanka, mo ree koumuaee, la doube lwaa.> he sneered at the insect. His would-be minions understanding of the finer points of the galactic spice trade was not entirely relevant, especially not for the line of work Nor'baal had in mind for the creature.

<Ree tee> he nodded, accepting the creatures offer of servitude. Cautiously, he looked Gom over once more. Yes, this slack-jawed incompetent could be of considerable use to him, now he looked him over properly. Perhaps he could use him to expand his operations on some of his newer ventures? That way, if the newcomer failed, the loss would not be all that great, and he could still have the creature thrown to the Rancors!

An excellent plan, simple, rudimentary, but still with a degree of finesse.

<Cheespa dhiuox'a cay mah besei bai kohpa mee bauuot peee wa kacdy see mah lohba. Toupee mi, haku pomoduala woy uba gee, an cay pea rulya see keueka-ou?> he enquired of Gom, gently reaching for his hookah pipe as he waited for the man to speak.

 

[Gom Jabar]

"Dobra hih babamh ree panbipa wa dotlibahve see lohba, chakaph kae gaukodiua, woy baiahau koona cay chaptee dokahn bata bimhee, an banpop cay joday cay droida, bacdop joday dah hoohah an boyonh hoohah peee kankahuesa. Peee che rulya mah chawaha doth coweuah mo mah vibro bonsau, pionpoe Dobra sag cay kae keepuna mo pin rulya. Dobra banpop hih gusha cay mah Nahtkaahbay Cowei an rah." spoke the insectoid as he kept his frame low and in the bow he was not released from. His chittinous plates were supporting nearly all of the pressure from this move, so he could do this for hours if required.

He knew the Hutt was paranoid, that is indeed why he decided to offer his services to the crime lord, but he may have miscalculated just how shaken the being was from... whatever had happened. He could sense he was not being truly listened to, or atleast was about to be thrown on a suicide mission. But the insectoid knew he needed to succeed on this mission in order to even gain a grain of trust in this new relationship. So he would accept whatever this Hutt had in store.