Ask Nal Hutta Teamsters Local 1

The Storyteller

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A Laborious Undertaking: Pabol Hutta
Teamsters Local 1


Leaks happen, and that was unfortunate for Salvatore Russo. His meeting with Durr the Hutt didn't go as well as Sal wanted it to, but he did get permission from the boss Hutt to start his union racket. Word had gotten around that the Hutt had given the greenlight for what was being the called the "teamsters" on the planet to unionize- an idea that was unheard of before Sal explained to Durr how it would be profitable...if the Hutts were the ones controlling the union.

Two major camps had jumped on board quickly- the dockworkers at the industrial starports on one side and the transporters responsible for getting goods from one place on the planet to another on the other. Sal hoped that Nal Hutta would prove to be the template for all the other planets and moons, a happy and successful union that took their orders from Sal or someone of Sal's choosing and most importantly, a cohesive union that would throw their weight around to get what they want...or to be more accurate, what Sal and the Hutts wanted.

At the present, the two major camps were actively at odds with each other. A Nikto named Karap Ghoto had been elevated as spokesman for the dockworkers and was their favorite for union president. The transport faction, however, had thrown their support behind one of their own, a Weequay named Bratta Yarn. There were significant differences in opinion, with pay and benefit demands at the top of the list. The transport faction was demanding higher wages and better benefits on the basis that they ran a much higher risk to come into contact with certain death under the current AMS crisis. The dockworkers would have none of it, afraid that if the transporters got superior pay now, that advantage would continue even after the AMS pandemic had subsided. They were saying that if the transporters were going to get higher wages, they were going to walk away and form their own union without the transporters.

While it made the job of getting the union created and under the thumb of the Hutts substantially more difficult, it likely saved the gangsters' interest in controlling the union. The conflict is the reason they had not been able to come to agreement before the Sal the Hutts could direct the conversation. Two important orders of business: Get the union to agree to terms and make sure that the right president of Teamsters 1 gets installed- the one that will the Hutt puppet.


@Morse @Isen
 

Salvatore Russo

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Jiguuna made a lot of sense as a meeting point for both groups. It had a spaceport fit for shipping cargo off world,and it was an industrial town. It was one of the few cities on Nal Hutta that both the dockworkers and transporters could call a city of their own, one where they had a strong, large workforce. It was common ground, nobody's backyard.

Both parties felt they had the right of this of dispute. That fact became quite clear to Sal from talking to some of the rank and file from both sides. What the two sides didn't know was that if this union was going to get off the ground, it had to continue to have the Hutt blessing. It also had to have Hutt leadership. And for now, Durr was allowing Russo to be that leader.

Sal was happy to have @Vako Yizok with him. Yizok knew Nal Hutta well, much better than Russo. He understood the politics...namely, that the Hutt name carried the weight of fear and influence here. It had for a long, long time. And, he had done some work for the Hutts, so he brought his bona fides with him. When Sal and Vako arrived at Jigunna, both sides were in a shouting match standing in the yard of the spaceport yelling at each other. Some were already holding signs, ready to boycott or strike if the deal didn't go their way. Karap Ghoto the Nikto and the Weequay Bratta Yarn were up on pedestals, taking turns yelling threats at one side and turning back to their own foot soldiers to draw applause and cheers.

With his arms crossed, Sal watched this episode for several minutes through his sunglasses. Both of these men had potential to be the perfect puppet president. They had the charisma. They had the support of their people. What they didn't have yet was the blessing of the Hutts and an understanding that the president and this new teamsters union would be answering to the Hutts through Russo. The ex-cop looked over at his Toydarian counterpart and said, "Seems like the biggest hurdle we're going to have is getting these two to understand that we're the ones in charge. Maybe we should talk to them individually. After they get through grandstanding, I'll take one to the side and explain how it's going to be, and you can take the other."

He looked back at the crowd that was still yelling at the other side and cheering their favorite leader on. "Once they wise up to who really is in control, we can bring them together and work out who can pretend to be in charge and work out a deal between them that both sides can accept...as well the Hutts. Then they can go back and sell our agreement to the masses." He looked back at Yizok and asked, "Which one do you want to spread the good news to?"


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Vako Yizok

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Vako understood the premise of a labor union, but hardly understood why they were handling it in the way that they were. He worked in relation to the Syndicates, but almost always for the Hutts. Generally when the Hutt's wanted something handles they did not go about muddling through conversation. It was typically a group of heavily armed thugs that bruised up anything in the way and threatened families until they got precisely what they wanted. Then the money flowed. And if the money stopped flowing, rinse and repeat.

That was why Vako assumed he was there. To rally up the thugs and slags needed to break bones and tear out teeth should the negotiations prove more difficult then they needed to be. Either way would suit Vako fine, and in many ways would just as likely work on Nal Hutta, one of the hardest worlds to live on as it was.

Vako did not know Salvatore Russo almost at all prior to their commission together for the job. He did not know the man's past, but Vako was observant enough to recognize a professional demeanor in him. Vako suspected some sort of para-military past. Sector Rangers perhaps? Whatever the case he looked a bit dangerous, and if the bosses had fingered him out it was likely because he was reliable for what he did. Moreover it was likely for something different then what Vako was there for.

"It's gonna be the Nikto." Vako declared, just looking at the way they were talking. "You don't want that Weequay in charge."

Vako watched the rattling battle, but he elaborated. "Yarn there." Vako pointed at the Weequay. "He's a spacer. Means he travels a lot, and probably disappears a lot. You won't know who he's talking to, and you won't know if he's skimming or getting a better deal. That and..." Vako looked at Sal, his wings flapping faster so he made it to eye level with his human counter part. "He's Weequay. They're basically bred to follow strength or opportunities without a lot of forethought. That's why you see a million of them at entry level and not many in management."

Vako blew a small jut of air out of his trunk and considered which option to choose. "I'll talk to the Weequay and see if he doesn't stink of something else other then week old tubacc and rill juice, but I'll just tell you now so there aren't any surprises... I think I know how his candidacy ends." Vako said tapping on the handle of his blaster.

While being rather cold about it, Vako knew this place too well. Nal Hutta was a hard world to get ahead in, and no one who was worth anything really made an honest living. The dirtier you were, the further ahead you could get. Morality had no meaning there, and Vako was a product of that environment.

"Or we could just pull them both into the same room and get one to retire with a good payoff.... or lay down the law?" Vako would be fine with any option, and there was no sign of preference other then his obvious belief in the Weequay's lack of merit without even knowing the poor creature.

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Salvatore Russo

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It seemed that Vako had a pretty good run of it. Russo didn't know the Toydarian at all, but he came highly recommended by a Hutt associate who said he would be great to have around. Russo had no real choice but to assume that it was true. And besides, if the stereotype of Toydarians being great hagglers and dealmakers was an accurate one, he might be exactly what Russo needed to get this first teamsters' union off the ground.

He listened carefully to his flying compadre and he probably had the Weequay pegged. Unreliable, greedy, unable to take instruction for long. The Nikto likely would be the better choice. And besides, it presented the easiest compromise to get both sides to unionize together. The dockworkers get the president, and the transporters get a slightly better compensation package. Both sides get something. If the dockworkers simply put the election to a large combined vote, they would lose in dramatic fashion. The transport workers outnumbered the dockworkers better than 4 to 1. To be guaranteed the presidency of the union seemed like a no brainer to Sal, but dockworkers weren't always known for their keen business sense. Sal hoped that Karap Ghoto jingled a few more brains in his skull than the average joe.

When Yizok patted his gun to indicate he may have to take the Weequay out, Sal shrugged and nodded that it may be necessary. Again, Yizok had already pinned him. He was probably exactly right. It would be less than ideal, and he hoped that he would do what Weequays were prone to do: take the best deal that keeps them alive. Besides, someone with the transporters was going to be getting paid extra on the side to keep them happy and in line, and if Yarn was smart enough to see it, he could be that individual. It looked like Yizok planned to get him to be that individual or be dead. Sal was perfectly fine with that.

"I agree with you," Sal said. "Tell him he won't be president, and he won't be because the Hutts say he won't be. That should be enough to put that to rest. But, if he wants to live and get paid handsomely for being telling the transporters how it's going to be and get them to think it's in their best interest...well, it beats being dead."

Sal fired up a cigarra and took a long drag. He never had smoked before he quit CorSec unless he was undercover, but he knew it calmed him...helped him think. "Tell him we can get the transporters an extra 2% pay and 2% on major insurance. He'll find that insulting, I'm sure, but if you let him talk you up to 6%, he'll think he won something." He took drag and exhaled it up into the air. "If he can't agree to those terms or refuses to concede to Ghoto...well, we'll have to find another hauler to make rich, and his dead body will be dumped in a swamp for the bugs and lizards to eat."

Sal turned so the Toydarian would know he was looking at him even though he was wearing sunglasses. "A deal would be better than killing him, but he'll determine that. Or you will."

One thing that all workers on the clock could agree on was to clock out on time for lunch. It was sort of funny to watch both sides suddenly stop yelling at each other, put down their signs, and leave at all the same time. Like programmed robots. It was time for lunch, so they dropped what they were doing and headed for their lunchpails. Sal couldn't help but smirk. "They already trained. It's incredible." He didn't necessarily intend for Vako to hear that bit, but he probably would. "Well, it's showtime. Good luck with Yarn. And remember...no higher than 6% increase. Lower if you can get it."

Sal dropped his cigarra on the ground and snuffed it out with his boot. He headed off to catch Ghoto. He was about to treat him to lunch and congratulate him on being the new president of Teamsters Local 1.


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Vako's approach to Yarn was going to be somewhat different then Sal's approach with Ghoto. That was absolutely apparent, but as long as the results and methods worked in tandem it would still be an ideal situation. Vako was not going to appeal to the higher morality of such a character as Yarn, it would be a waste of both of their time. Namely because Vako didn't know anyhting about the higher morality, and it was likely Yarn wouldn't begin to grasp such a plea either way.

Instead Vako had gone over as the crowd was moving to corners, and Vako got ahold of the Weequay Yarn. He had a small entourage with him. This was not an issue, they were not a part of it.

Vako opened with a complimentary nature of his speech, in a harsh and hard manner of someone who was raised in Hutt space, something the Weequay would know well. This was followed by a notation of a not unsubstantial opportunity for a very wealthy backer for his cause, which also seemed to catch the Weequay's attention. The final move was to get him to a place for a drink, or five.

Anyone raised in Hutt space, especially a spacer, tended to be a bit selfish, so when Vako said he could get the Weequay all he wanted to drink to discuss and celebrate if things went well, Yarn only wanted to bring his most trusted teamster, an apparent reliable friend since he was very young. The thick and thin sort of bond was always admirable, but tended to blind people to false value. The only ones Vako wanted at his back were those that knew how to get out of a jam and could hold a blaster without flinching.

The day drinking commenced in a cantina that was not well reputed. A rusty cut out of a wall of a much larger building, with a customer base that mostly lived there. Ideal for Vako's designs.

The negotiation began with a drink. Then another. Then another.

But Toydarians had a fast metabolism. It was essential for them to keep burning calories in order to expend the energy that was required to fly and hover as they did. And in that, Vako was not quite intoxicated as they were.

That was when Vako noted he was with the Hutts. Cash had already been thrown around to demonstrate some actual wealth in the drinks, but showing a Hutt comlink was a different story altogether. It got Yarn's attention well, who likely did lots of business with the Hutts.

As the chosen representative of the Hutt's in speaking with Yarn, it demonstrated their attention to him. But once in the eye of the Hutt's there was no escape until someone died. They had long memories and far reaches. The gravity was setting upon them, and that was when Vako made himself clear.

"1 percent increase." Vako stated flatly. "That's what the Hutt's want to give you for transpos and insurance." That was a hard start, almost nothing compared to what was actually reasonably owed. But this hard form of negotiating was where Vako lived.

Yarn protested in a fury, as did his friend. That was expected.


"I did not say that's all that could happen, that's what they want. The negotiation here falls to me, and what follows is up to you."

The astronomical number of 10% was put forth by Yarn and his friend. That was impossible. Vako would let them rattle on for sometime, nodding and tilting his head as though he was taking in their input, but he already had his trump card ready and was more then willing to back it up. This was just another part of that game.

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Salvatore Russo

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The pieces really needed to fall together. They would one way or the other, but puzzles work best when pieces slide into place without a lot of Force. They just fit and go in nice and easy, snug, but not too tight. There was nothing Sal could do about the Weequay. The Toydarian was on it, and it would either go well or it wouldn't. Sal needed to focus on getting Ghoto to understanding that he had every opportunity to become an influential, powerful, and wealthy man on this planet, but that it would come with responsibilities...and some strings attached.

Sal positioned himself so that Ghoto had to walk past him, and as he did, Sal popped in front of him, smiled and stuck out a hand. "Mr. Ghoto! Congratulations! It's a real honor to be speaking to the very first president of Teamsters Local 1," Sal said enthusiastically. He shook his hand a little harder than was necessary.

"Thank you, but we've got a long way to go yet," the Nikto said, trying to press forward past Russo.

Sal shook his head and sidestepped to stay in front of the inspiring dockworking leader. "No, it's in the bag. And you're the choice. But I need a word." He could tell Ghoto was not at all excited about the prospects of such a conversation, but when he felt something jutting into his ribs and he looked down to see a DG-34 Peacemaker with the business end pointed at his vitals, his facial expression suddenly looked more agreeable. "I have nothing but good news for you, Mr. President. And that news come from Durr the Hutt. Please, let's talk."

Ghoto opened his mouth to respond, but decided against it. He just nodded and decided to follow Sal to his ship, the Five-0 Fuzz. As they were about to board via the loading ramp, a man came running up behind them. "Hey! Mr. Ghoto doesn't see anyone alone!"

Sal, who had been able to holster his weapon with the Nikto's cooperation, stood on the ramp and looked back at the man who was running at them. "Who the kriff is that?"

"That's Trillan Marks. He's my bodyguard. That's what I allow him to say, anyway."

Sal snarled to himself. "He's not very good at his job. I brought you this far at gunpoint."

Ghoto chuckled once and shook his head. "He thinks he's important. Truth is, he doesn't do much. But, he means well."

Sal smiled and motioned them both inside in front of him. When he entered the ship, he lifted the ramp that shut them off to the rest of the world. Sal sat a table in the commons area across from both of them. Trillan wore a hard face, clearly intending to intimidate Sal. Russo eyeballed him for a moment and then turned back to Ghoto.

"Let's get to the bottom line as I'm sure you're busy. You're going to be the first president. You will be because I say so. And if I say so, the Hutts say so. If anyone has a problem with that, that's just going to be too bad," Russo said. "You and Yarn are going to sell the compromise I'm about to give you together, and we're going to put this nasty little squabble between the transporters and the dockworkers to rest."

"With all due respect, it's of the utmost importance that this election be decided fairly, and I don't need or want the Hutts help in this ele..."

Before he could finish, Sal had drawn his Peacemaker, pulled the trigger, and left Trillan Marks's head a massive charred blob on top of his neck. As quickly as he drew, Sal spun the peacemaker on his finger backwards and it went back to his holster. Russo continued as if Trillan Marks was old news and his corpse wasn't mere feet from both of them. "I've done my homework on you, Mr. Ghoto. You've been on Nal Hutta for about fifteen years now. It isn't about what you need or want from the Hutts. It's what the Hutts demand from you."

Sal kept his eyes on the Nikto as the leader of the dockworkers leaned back in his chair silently, suddenly concerned about how his political aspirations within the labor world had turned into a potential target of the Hutt clans. If Russo could get the Nikto on board, he would be a great asset. He was smart, he was brave, and most of all, he had a reputation as someone who stood up for the common worker. A worthy president. He simply had to be brought to heel. But doing so...well, that was the trick wasn't it?


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The protests from the two Weequay continued on for some time. They rambled on and on about their financial needs and the extreme dangers they've been exposed to. Jumping from world to world and coming in contact with the virus and the suggestion that the Hutts were standing by and doing nothing about it was not unnoticed. Vako let them ramble, and said little in between. He ordered the next grip of drinks to keep them pliable and angry, which was useful in this moment. He was not at the boiling point yet but he was getting there.

They wanted closer to ten percent, which obviously was under no circumstance going to happen. They found it fair, and without it Yarn was going to press his advantage to run for the president of the teamsters. Vako was never going to allow that to come to pass, so he came back to interject.


"I seem to misunderstand your position here. And I'll opt to ignore your disparaging remarks about the Hutts just this once. You've spoken a lot of thoughts, but I will enlighten you on the reality."

Vako took his own drink up and finished it quickly. He then looked to the bartender nodded and got one more.

"You say ten percent or you run for president. I say if you don't join in this already sterling deal you're being offered one of two things will happen."

He cocked his head to the side and fluttered away from the stools and got a small amount of distance, but not much, just enough to change the spacing.

"You'll continue to be hailed as a hero for the spacers, and they'll sleep soundly knowing you're going to make a change... but then there will be an incident. Your freighter's core malfunctioned in space and you freeze to death in space. A pack of pirates pulls you over thinking you've got something valuable and your put into slavery... or my personal favorite... someone walks up to you on the street with a blaster and blows you away for one hundred credits... this is what happens if you don't take the deal and run for president."

Vako noted their obvious concern at his entirely unveiled threat, but Vako moved a step further.

"The second thing that could happen is your friend here kills you dead in this bar. You got too drunk, you started fighting, and he blows your head off. I don't see any witnesses here that would counter that statement... cus they know what'll happen if they do." Vako looked at the bartender who was already keeping his distance from the whole thing when the Hutt's were mentioned. "And he'll have his skin melted off by the mob of spacers who will undoubtedly riot in response... and riots have to get put down one way or another... that's what happens if you make one more remark about your power over the Hutt's again."

Vako inhaled his face was flat. He adjusted his pistol, ready in case that option needed to be taken.

"It'll be a 3 percent increase, and everybody lives. Set a single quill on your rigid face out of line... and a lot of people are gonna die... starting with you..."


The terms were crystal clear and cut like a knife. Vako would have no qualms murdering Yarn right there in the bar, and paying everyone else there twenty credits to say they saw what happened. He'd have even fewer qualms gunning him down in the street while he was on a shore leave after a long haul. Whatever the case would be, he had doomed himself the moment the eye of the Hutts were upon him. And for that it was no surprise was followed.

The deal was struck with the shakiest hand that Vako had ever touched.

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"What am I to tell the people who believe in me? What do I tell them?" Ghoto asked Sal. He really was concerned. He really wanted to do the right thing. There was a time when Sal would have respected that, but those days were long gone.

"You tell them the truth." Sal shrugged and grinned as he folded his arms and sat back in his chair. "Not the whole truth, mind you, but the truth. You tell them that you cut the very best deal you could manage, and it's a better deal than anyone else could have cut for them. It's the best deal the dockworkers are going to get."

The Nikto leaned forward, his head slightly cocked to the side. "What....deal...are you talking about? I keep hearing these words...words like deal and compromise. I know what I'm getting, but what am I giving up?"

"No more than 6%," Sal Responded.

Ghoto roared and slammed his fists on the table. "6%? As in more compensation? Unacceptable!"

Sal shook his head. "No more than 6%. Could well be less, but that isn't the point. Whether it's 1%, 3%, 6%, 50% or 100% more...what I say the best deal you're going to get is the best deal you're going to get." Sal leaned forward on his elbows and looked hard at the Nikto. "The fact of the matter is, someone is going to take this very deal on behalf of the dockworkers, do great work for the dockworkers here, and...along the way, become quite wealthy."

The Nikto snorted in reply. He was insulted as the insinuation that he might be bought. Sal knew that he would. If he could get Ghoto to agree, he would make the perfect first president of the first union. He was above reproach, highly respected. He could motivate a crowd. More importantly, he couldn't be bought. That was important in case someone else came in and tried to take the labor racket away from Sal and the Hutts. Of course, the trouble was...he couldn't be bought, so getting him on board was the hard part.

"President Ghoto..."

"I'm not the president yet."

Sal smirked. "Yet. That's the operative word. President Ghoto, if we left this to an open vote with no deal in place, how do you think this would go? The dockworkers are vastly outnumbered by the transporters. You would lose. The dockworkers would lose. And they would lose on this planet...forever. There are what, two major spaceports on Nal Hutta and a handful of minor ones in small cities and outposts? If you decided to break apart and try to form your own union, you wouldn't have enough workers to do a kriffing thing. They would just fire you all and hire new bodies. You need the transporters for your union to have any teeth, and you need to win for the dockworkers to get what they want."

Ghoto sat silently, mulling it over. He knew Sal was right. He knew it. He was charismatic. He could make a case, but at the end of the day, the dockworkers alone didn't have the numbers to either win an election or form their own union. He finally shook his head. "It isn't right. Pick someone else to be your puppet."

Sal shook his head. "That isn't the way the Hutts operate. You don't get to choose. The Hutts have already chosen." Sal turned on the holo that was in the center of the table. A 3D image of Ghoto's wife and two children began to turn slowly in it's blue aura. "You have a beautiful wife, President Ghoto. Two beautiful children. Don't they deserve a husband and father that's...alive?"

The Nikto's eyes flared at this and his gaze bore holes through Sal. So, Sal dug the knife in deeper. "Or, would a more convincing argument be to make you the widow? Take your children and not you?"

Ghoto cursed Sal and stood quickly to begin to come across the table, but Sal drew the Peacemaker again the barrel bore into the Nikto's forehead. "You can be a great asset for the dockworkers. You can give your wife and children a life they never knew was possible. You either make that happen, or everyone suffers. And their suffering will be at your hands, and I may damn well choose to keep your alive so you have to live with it."

Karap Ghoto fell back into his seat, breathing hard, but in a state of submission. He was given no choice. Finally, he nodded. "I have no recourse. I can't fight it."

Sal nodded. "That's right. And if you give me and the Hutts your loyalty, we'll never ask you do something that doesn't benefit the Teamsters....The Teamsters...Once you're the President, you are the president for both the dockworkers and the transporters."

Sal got up and slowly walked around the table and placed a hand Ghoto's shoulder. "Do we have an understanding? Are you going to get in line and put on a good face?"

The Nikto just nodded. That was enough. He wouldn't lie and backtrack. He loved his family too much. And, given enough time, he would see that the lives of the Teamsters would improve. While most people on Nal Hutta had a legitimate fear of the Hutts, Sal aimed to turned that to admiration from the Teamsters. If the Nikto did as instructed, the Teamsters could have a significantly improved quality of life. And that admiration and good will could easily be turned into foot soldiers. And if you control the labor, especially the labor that brought goods in and out of the planet, you control the industrial complex. Even Ghoto would eventually see the light. He would begin to rationalize that he was doing a service. Soon, he would see himself and even Sal and the Hutts as the good guys.

"Good. Lunch time is almost over. Go out there and sell that compromise. We're going to make a show of it. You and Bratta Yarn are going to agree to go hash this thing out. He's going to offer you a compromise that the transporters will support you if accept...whatever number he gives you. It will be 6% higher compensation or less." Sal grabbed Ghoto's chin and lifted it so that he would have to look him in the eyes. "And you will accept it. And you will abide by it. And in public, you will be happy to have it."

Ghoto pulled his chin away but nodded that he would.


"Good. Now let's go make a deal."

Sal let Ghoto go, and looked at the dead human in his ship. He would pay someone on the Hutt payroll to clean it up. He wasn't in the mood for it. He his comms to get in contact with Vako. Russo here. We're done here. When you're finished, how about we debrief back in my ship?"

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By the time Vako got the call his deal was done. Vako had no time or interest in further conversation. For all intents and purposes he'd just assaulted the would-be-president and his oldest friend. The attack had come swift and hard, for shock value and as a reminder of the true nature and order of things. This was important as everything in the Five Syndicate Space belonged the Five Syndicates. They were all just wandering banthas and the Syndicates were the herders. Sometimes a bantha had to be killed and gutted for food and fur. It was just part of nature. But this was the order of things.

Vako glared at the two as he finished up, his entire demeanor anything but friendly for the rest of the meeting. Though half their height he was as mean and vicious as one could be, and it was clear enough that he would be willing to end the two of them right there if the mood struck him. And it might be just as valuable to him to do so. But the course of action he had chose, the offer of the deal kept them alive. That was all that mattered to them, and that was all that mattered to Vako.

To reaffirm his control of the situation Vako ordered the two to leave the cantina, which they both did. Vako had paid off the entire tab in advance so they should have looked at it as a great opportunity with wonderful clarity. Now indecision and insecurity was wiped away, and they could sleep soundly knowing the outcome in advance.

Vako left the bar through the back two minutes after the two departed, not even considering a bribe to the witnesses. Such bribes would undermine his position... fear was what won the day here... not greed... just fear.

Vako took the long way to Sal's ship, boarded safely, and met with the man.

"3 percent." Vako stated, adjusting his rifle. "3 percent across the board of the spacers. No questions asked and no need to worry. And if there is... I'll handle it for free on principle." Vako concluded. "How'd your end turn up?"

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Sal led Vako into the commons area of the Five-0, and offered him a seat. It was the same seat that Ghoto sat in earlier and next to the "bodyguard" whose head had met the business end of Sal's Peacemaker. The body was still slumped in the seat and the neck a charred nub. Sal went to the cabinets, pulled out a large bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He poured them neat, no ice, no sweet add-ins. He poured it straight. "Good enough to celebrate, I'd say."

Sal put one of the glasses in front of Vako and and took a seat. The other, he put in front of himself. He nodded over to the corpse next to Vako. "Had to make an example, unfortunately." He took a sip and looked at his glass. It was good whiskey. "Charcoal here was a waste of good air anyway. Too much heart and too little brains to do think pragmatically. But Ghoto? He saw reason."

Sal took another long sip and then crossed his arms as he sat back in the chair. "What about you? How committed are you to the Hutts? At this point, I'm pretty invested...at least until Durr wants to renegotiate. I need protection in the Hutt worlds, at least for now. But as we grow out of Hutt space and the operation becomes more and more....let's say, independent, it's possible that the work becomes less and less about the Hutts and more and more about self-interest."

Sal took another sip, eyeing the Toydarian. "Would you still be willing to take jobs and bank some nice credits under those circumstances?"


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Vako Yizok

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The mention that Sal had to put one of the two he had spoken to did not surprise Vako, and bothered him even less then it surprised. Vako was entirely pragmatic in the work that was done for the Syndicates. It was no a matter of who lived and who died, it was a matter of how much money and how far everyone made it. And if you were getting in the way of the profit margin you died. It was like that for everyone, so it was always in the best interest to stick with the biggest group and do what the bosses told you to do. Stepping out of line was what got you killed.

"Yarn saw reason. All I had to do was tell him the truth. This is syndicate space... not labor space. And the only laws that really matter out here are the ones with the most money behind it." Vako ticked his head to the side. He did not know Sal almost at all but he reeked of either military or police. "But you'd know all about that."

Vako took a sip of the whiskey. It was in fact very good, a lot better then what he was drinking in that rat hole bar that he had just come from. He drank a little more when Sal continued. It sounded almost like Vako was being offered a job, and he said as much.

"Well, with Bira out of commission, and Preef Callo sitting on the throne at Nar Shadda I'm a bit open at the moment." Vako stated. "In times like these I like to move around, but I like to work for my credits so I guess it all depends on what you have in mind."

Vako's answer was not a no, but wasn't a complete yes either. With Preef Callo's Empire on the warpath to control Hutt space Vako was not sure how long anyone would have before they had to start handing that gunslinger a kickback. And Vako wanted to avoid that confrontation as long as possible.

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Salvatore Russo

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Russo grinned at the comment about money and laws that matter. "The only laws that matter anywhere are the ones with money behind them. Doesn't matter if the money is pouring in from the government to the police or from a crime syndicate to a street gang. Credits rule the roost everywhere in the galaxy."

The mentioning of Preef Callo was an interesting turn. There would be a lot of reasons to do so. First, for anyone looking to jump on the biggest ride, he was it. And if you were looking for someone to avoid getting into a beef with....he was it. "As it turns out, I have a pretty good relationship with Faa Zenn. Well, at least as far they know, and that's all that really matters." Sal said. He was fortunate enough to get out of Nar Shaddaa without Callo and his cohorts knowing that he was actively fighting against him. "In fact, most of the associates I have worked with in the past are Crymorah guys."

Sal noticed that the Toydarian didn't sip his whiskey. He drank it down. Sal refilled his glass. "I'm a little hesitant to get too locked in with Preef, to be honest. He's got a lot of heat. Law enforcement from one side of the galaxy to the other are trying to make their careers taking down Zaa Fenn and Callo."

He took another sip and shrugged. "There's never been a better time to be associated with the Hutts. The Hutts themselves are really taking it on the chin, but for enterprising folks working under the protection...well, the sky is the limit. They know they need to expand, they need to find new income streams. Nearly unimpeded access to work from the Sector Rangers because they don't operate in Syndicate Space and you get protection from the Hutts. However, I don't mind hiring free agents. In fact, getting access to their contacts in other syndicates could be quite useful, especially in these early days."

Sal finished off the rest of his glass like a shot and then poured himself anew before taking another sip. "Of course, as we grow, that won't be necessary. With the credits and freedom to use the model to expand and run their own locals but be backed by the power of the intergalactic union? Loyalty and quality associates won't be an issue."

He looked at Vako for a few moments and nodded. "It's getting the ball rolling that's the tricky part. Done right, it will be like pushing it downhill. It will pick up speed on its own and nobody will be able to stop it. What I'm wondering is if you'll help me start pushing the ball. You don't have to push it forever. I would never ask you to turn down other opportunities while you help me get this thing started, other than as a professional courtesy not to take jobs that would interfere with what I'm trying to build."

Russo smirked and held up the whiskey bottle. "I'll keep the whiskey coming if you're game."


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Vako Yizok

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For Vako, getting a read on Sal's background was quite easy. He had the marks of a crusader that had lost his faith, and all the look in the eyes of someone who was looking to live the rest of his life for himself, rather then a cause. But getting a read on where he was going was the hard part. In their line of work treachery was everywhere, and anyone could be attempting to climb by putting someone in a bad spot. No one truly knew where anyone else stood with the Syndicates.

Vako could only assume that he had eyes on a large chair for himself. He had mentioned work for other Syndicates, and implied a good relationship with many of them. Not everyone did that, but those that were looking at playing numerous angles. Vako did not have a great relationship with other Syndicates, so much as a reputation that he was holding, but that made him a bit more typical then Sal.

He understood the point of getting the union rolling, and took a stern drink from the whiskey, still not entirely affected due to the high metabolism and processing of his Toydarian body. For him it was the crude flavor that he enjoyed. To get a Toydarian drunk was an expensive endeavor... or one that would cause blindness in others due to the cheap and strong nature.

"I'm not in a position to get in the way of much of anyone at the moment." Vako started. "So I wouldn't worry about me jumping in the way of your union."

That was the reassurance the Vako could guarantee, and for their work it was probably the most important in that he was stating he wasn't another obstacle.


"And I can push too... but Toydarians... we're sprinters. We can't push very hard for very long before wanting something in return. The teamster union works out, and probably works out best for you, after all none of the syndicates are really run by committee. But for me? That's fine, I don't like to sit very long and chairs are big targets... but I do like the money. So as long as its there, I'll be there too."

A strict mercenary? Maybe Vako was. But he liked his reputation, and he liked new experiences. And with the turning of the galaxy, Vako was finding plenty of experiences to be had... and lots of opportunity with it.

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Salvatore Russo

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The Toydarian was a tricky sort. No doubt, he was fitting the stereotype of his kind. "I'm not in a position to get in the way of much of anyone at the moment." he said. "So I wouldn't worry about me jumping in the way of your union."

Russo was an expert in doublespeak. He used it extensively himself. It wasn't a lie, but it certainly wasn't a guarantee. He wasn't in position to get in the way....right now. He shouldn't worry about Vako jumping in the way of the union right now. Well, he said it without actually sait it- If the credits were right, he might well find himself in position to get in the way or jump in the way of the union.

"We can't push very hard for very long before wanting something in return...That's fine, I don't like to sit very long and chairs are big targets... but I do like the money. So as long as its there, I'll be there too."

Sal finished off his drink by throwing the rest of it back and reaching into a drawer under the tabletop. He pulled out a sizeable stack of credits chips, flipped through them once and then put them down in front of Vako. "You'll always get something in return if you work with me. That's about 25% of the dues I expect to collect this month after they get this election over with. The good news is, the money should keep on rolling." He looked at his empty glass. "And the whiskey too."

Sal poured just a finger into the glass and held it up as if to toast the Toydarian. "So here's to full pockets and empty glasses."


/exit thread attempt
 
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