Ask Nal Hutta The Hutts Court

[Nor'baal Desilijic]

Once again, the Galaxy was changing.

Over his long life, Nor'baal had seen it happen time and time again. By his reckoning, this would be the fourth significant change in the Hutt Clans' history, yet this time it was beholden to him, as leader of his Kajidic, to ensure the Desilijic managed to weather the storm. Empires had risen, Empires had fallen, the Republic had collapsed and risen again, and the Sith had dissolved and come back, all in Nor'baals lifetime. More recently, he had watched as some uppity Rodian had attempted to supplant the Hutts from their position at the top of the criminal food chain, a virus had swept the galaxy, and now some bizarre insect species was trying to eat them all.

Being a Hutt was anything but dull.

Now the five syndicates had finally accepted that their alliance was holding them all back and had gone back to how things used to be. A competitive association of partners and rivals, and the Hutts had been given a chance to re-impose themselves back on their territory. With such a change came challenges and great opportunities, and Nor'baal intended to see through both in equal measure. A brief pause to consolidate what resources he could count on, followed by a quick strike at key localised weak points, would cement his position as undisputed region chief - all would pay tribute to the great Nor'baal!

He smacked his lips with barely constrained glee at the thought.

Resting on his throne, he clocked his guards in the room, four Gamorrean with armour and savage axes 'borrowed' and repurposed from Kotiis failed attempt on his life. Four nikto with rifles and three Corellian hounds sat at the base of this throne. To his side, a translator droid stood, and Nor'baal held his hookah pipe in his hand as he looked over his closest and most loyal associates. In the coming weeks and months, they would all have a great deal of work to do - but their tribute, affirmation of loyalty, and general obedience were to be shown again; then, the schemes could begin.

 

[Skelgok Desilijic]

Skelgok enjoyed the thought that the cartel would move away from the other organisations. Not that they wouldn't work together in the future, but some healthy competition would hopefully revitalise their own syndicate into action. There was much work to be done as the shifting sands could mean a scramble for resources or assets, murder or warfare.

In time, he hoped to develop his own enterprises and was already making multiple efforts there. But here and now they gathered to reaffirm support for Nor'baal and plan the future path for the cartel as a whole.

That wasn't to be unexpected.

Would any shenanigans play out or would everyone toe the line, he wondered. The theatrics of it all was moderately interesting, there would be order established before they could look outside these walls. For himself, he was accompanied by a beefy Gamorrean armed to the tusks, although he wasn't totally unprepared if things went south.

Still, if everyone kissed the ring and fell in line the meeting would go smoothly. Business opportunities were opening up everywhere and it would do them all good to re-establish ties amongst each other. Skelgok looked forward to this especially, if he was being honest.

 

[Jorge]

Bulk arrived as one of Nor'baal's deformed Gamorrean guards. He, however, stood out from the rest with his henchmen armor and his red-brown skin hue. However, everything else about him screamed space-boar but he couldn't care less. Whatever his Lorda wanted from him today, he would deliver! Who were these other fools who awaited the mighty Nor'baal's arrival? Were the enemies? Or were they food? One was better than the other. The guard looked to Nor'baal with admiration and then snarled at the rest of the attendants.

No slug is more sluggish than that of my beloved Lorda! He thought proudly when he glanced at the other present Hutt. Nor'baal grows fat with strength! His reach is tenfold that of the Empires! His might is tenfold that of President Thorne! His beauty is tenfold that of myself! These meager beings should bow before the greatest of all beings, that their pride be swallowed by Nor'baal himself! A raging fury billowed throughout the hybrid Gamorrean, and he clenched the hilt of his vibro-axe a little tighter. <Shall I demand they pay tribute? Should I gore those who fail to offer tribute, oh most grand and great of all Hutts? Shall I quench my thirst with their blood, my Lorda? Oh, for how I long to bloody my blade...to be ridden in the filth of your enemies...>

Sometimes, Bulk got a little ahead of himself. But he couldn't help it. The vigor and eagerness to fight had always been what made Bulk stand out among his kin. Though, food always seemed to bring this fearsome energy down a bit so that he was a bit more manageable. But as far as Bulk could smell, there wasn't anything to sate such hunger.

 

[Crux]

The news that the syndicates had formally ended their alliance wasn’t exactly unexpected. The five were constantly stepping on each others’ toes, and he was surprised that the alliance had even lasted this long. But now, things were going back to the way it used to be, with each syndicate on its own to carve out its assets and territory. Much like he’d carved out his own little corner in the room as he sipped his vodka.

As a mostly freelance bounty hunter, Crux didn’t have much at stake in the gang fighting, but he found himself more often than not taking the side of the Desilijics. Despite his complicated history with them, he found that they were the ones who were consistent with what they needed done and most importantly, paid well.

Though he couldn’t say he liked the Hutts, he found himself becoming more tolerant towards them in terms of his attitude. He had the mentality that if they were successful, it would ultimately pass down to him, and that was why he’d dedicated a large portion of his time to the improvement and expansion of the syndicate.

If the Hutts needed a man, they had one.