(Collab with [@Sep])

[center][h1][color=green]D A R T O N   F A N X[/color][/h1][/center]

Easing the Z-95 down onto the landing platform, Darton shut off the fighter’s repulsors and began powering down. Once that was finished, the smuggler/courier sat for a few more moments in his closed cockpit, removing his flight helmet and closing his eyes.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves. It was a technique he’d perfected over the years, and it didn’t take long for him to properly compose himself, before thumbing the canopy release button, getting out of his seat and jumping down onto the platform.

From there, it was a short walk into Timana’s palace. Shadows creeping around every dimly-lit corridor, aliens of all kinds wandering here and there. To get to the throne room was easy: just follow the music. Having walked this passage several times before, Darton had the way committed to memory, and only listened to the mellow beat of the music, and smelled the rapacious scents of spice and alcohol along the way. 

Within moments, the sounds and smells amplified exponentially - a blind man would be able to tell that this was Timana’s throne room. So here he was.

The booming voice of Timana permeated the room, the protocol droid being quick to repeat his masters words in basic. “Courier, Timana demands that you deliver a package at once to the one who has seized Kintan from his control. You will deliver the package, then leave to continue on your duties for the rest of the Hutts. Remind the hostile force that kidnapping or killing you would further be seen as an act of war against the Hutts.” Timana waved a gargantuan hand and a Twi’lek with durasteel cuffs around her legs chaining her to the wall moved over, handing Darton a small box.

Well, if the only thing he needed to do was pop in, deliver a box, and fly out of there, he didn’t anticipate any problems.

But it was never that simple.

“Thanks dear,” he said softly as the Twi’lek handed him the package. He turned back to the massive Hutt.

“I must be honest, your excellency - high probability that things might not go so well on Kintan. Details, Timana, details. What am I expecting when I get there?”

“The individual appears to be in control of a single Jedi Cruiser from the Clone Wars, and the traitors of a Ton-Falk appear to have joined him. From what we have been able to learn from our own agents he appears to be some kind of businessman.”

“Okay… ex-Imps and a businessman…” He shifted the box between his hands, “Should I ask what’s in here?”

“You do not need to know, though you can be rest assured it is not an explosive device. You are far too valuable an asset to be wasted on a suicide mission.”

He almost laughed.

[i]Almost.[/i]

“I’ll take your word for it. And I guess I’d better be going.” He slung the box under one arm, and gave a mock salute to the Hutt. “Take care, big Tim.”

He made his way out through the throne room doors, and nearly forgot-

“Oh, hey!” he called, “Your rancor eggs; they’re-”

The door closed behind him. [i]Ah well.[/i]

He made his way back to the landing platform where Buzzard was located, hitting a button on his beckon call to get the ship warmed up and ready for launch. He handed the box over to a droid which he instructed to stow in the secret hold, as he had many times before. He just hoped he wouldn’t be shot down on arrival. He made a mental note to jump in a little out from the system and ease in in order to give his hyperdrive enough time to recharge, just in case he had to make a speedy exit.

Pulling himself up to the cockpit, Darton settled himself down into the leather seating and strapped in, pulling his helmet over his head. He got the O-K from the droid that the package was stowed, and summarily flicked a switch to raise the hold door. 
Switching on his repulsors, Darton eased off the pad, throttling up and feeling the g-forces squeeze him as he pulled up, heading into the blackness once again.