DELETED32084

Nar Shaddaa

Khulbe's Palace - Khulbe

---

The remainder of the evening passed swiftly enough for all involved, cozy and intimate enough that those assembled were able to overlook the rather dangerous business relationship that could potentially kill some of them. Khulbe was a gracious host, accepting compliments from Telsa about the food, and then having the chef brought out to accept the praise herself. Even the stilted tones of D440 did not put a damper on the evening as he translated the Hutts deep rumbling voice.

A small desert made jogan fruitcake came as a final completion of the evening. Khulbe had allowed the slave girls to leave one at a time to enjoy something to eat. It was not often that his kitchen was tested to the fullest of its skills as Khulbe himself usually enjoyed live frogs from numerous different planets. On this particular occasion he allowed the chef to indulge herself and enjoyed a somewhat spicy water creature from Naboo, something called a Gungan, and a young one at that. It turned out to be quite delicious.

As the deserts were polished off and the dishes removed, Khulbe heaved his massive bulk more upright and the slave girls straightened their backs on the small cushioned stools they occupied.

"I am going to retire. I have a number of engagements tomorrow that I cannot miss." D440 translated rapidly as Khulbe began to move his bulk toward the darkness beyond the curtains. "Enjoy your stay."

He waved away their thanks, and then paused, almost forgetting what he had learned about humans. He knew Jast was not one for slavery but even a man like him would appreciate the company of a pretty girl.

"Jast, take your pick of my girls to keep you company. After Zura has chosen hers."

Then the darkness swallowed him.

Victory: The Cost of Freedom

@Andreyich@f0un@CaptainBritton@Katthaj@A Story Teller@One Who Tames

Thank you all for your interest! I said I would like six, and now we have six. I will put together an OOC with instructions on how to join the RP later this weekend, but no later than the weekend.

I will create a discord and send it to those who are accepted into the RP. If you’re a keener and want to know what to expect. Rather than a CS, your applications will a written piece covering any nation in a world War 2, but your character will be visiting a recruiter to sign up!

If you have any questions, ask away.

Cheers!

Victory: The Cost of Freedom

Welcome to this Interest Check. I am a bit of an avid WW2 scholar and have completed a number of interviews, as well as a pair of documentaries, on that same war. I have always been struck by the experience of the men, and women, who served in this horrendous conflict.

I would like to put together an RP where it will be broken down into smaller stories. By battle for example. Each battle would be no more than five posts per-player with the intention of at least one post every two weeks. This would be a slow burn RP. I find this allows people to create quality as well as still live their real lives.

There would be no intensive character sheets, though I will request samples of peoples writing since I want this to be advanced. You will have the option of collabing of course but I hope most people will take this as a challenge to play their own character in battles that we already know the outcomes of. I leave it to you if your characters live or die.

Needless to say, I intend this to be 18+.

The idea here will be to recreate those WW2 battlefields a lot of us have read about and perhaps visited. You can play either side. This is meant to be an exploration of your own interests and perhaps to retell the stories of veterans or family who came before you.

Looking for a minimum of six interested parties to begin.

No Discord as of yet.

Nar Shaddaa

Khulbe's Palace - Zura Lom

---

Zura had to admit that the human pilot was an excellent storyteller and she found herself swept up into the adventure that had culminated in his arrival on Nar Shaddaa. There was a brief silence as his story concluded and then several of the girls began clapping and everyone joined in, even Khulbe, who smacked one thick arm against his stomach in appreciation.

The courier had painted a rather vivid picture of his escape and part of Zura was envious of his freedom to roam. That feeling quickly passed as she realized Jast had nearly died and her position in Khulbes household kept her well fed, well paid, and without much fear of her life being destroyed on some shithole planet like Tatooine.

"I should have you visit more often, Jast. Your stories are quite remarkable." Khulbe rumbled with decided amusement in his voice. Zura had been with him long enough to discern the various tones and timbers of his voice, and what they meant. "This has reminded me of something you might find interesting."

The Hutt rumbled something that D440 did not translate and a short pause took place before a floating holo-projector sped into the room, halting just shy of the Hutts throne. A series of lights blinked on and then a tall humanoid being flashed into existence. Everyone knew him at once, Kade Ritgar, the holo-actor. Zura felt her skin tone flush with pleasure at his face; he was popular with pretty much anyone of the female gender, regardless of race or species.

"Mr. Ritgar is making a personal stop here in two weeks to have some of my girls model his new line of clothing. I know he is aways interested in exciting stories for his holo-projects," The Hutts huge eyes turned from Kades image toward Jast. "Perhaps you would like to join us for another meal and regale him with your adventure?"

Zura saw a flash of interest go through the assembled slave girls. Scarifs Styles, Kades clothing line, was famous throughout space for its fabrics, alluring cuts, and unbelievable prices. Everything manufactured by Scarifs was limited addition and it was possible Khulbe had paid for his own line of slave wear to be commissioned. Zura herself had only met Kade once before when Khulbe attended the premier of a holo-film that had been shot on Nar Shaddaa.

She shot a quick glance at Jast from under her brows, and then at Telsa. The two of them were excreting pheromones suggesting nervousness, Telsa more than Jast. Zura wondered if it was because of the setting, or if it was because they had not been truthful in their story. The truth of it would only matter if they were caught but that wasn't her concern. Khulbe was, however, but nothing of what Jast said caused her any concern for the Hutts safety. She took a sip of her spiced rum and wondered what Kade would be like.

Nar Shaddaa - Thrax and Sena

---

Thrax rolled onto his back, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. Next to him, hands sliding up and down her belly as she squirmed on the bed, Sena smiled and then gave a final sharp gasp and collapsed into the mattress.

They lay in silence for a couple of minutes, both staring up at the ceiling as the pounding in their ears subsided and they got their breathing under control. The whirr of the air purifying unit was the only sound apart from the very distant rumble of the Nar Shaddaa spaceport. A collection of holo-images showing Sena and her family were scattered about the room along with an explosion of clothing and a half dozen data-pads and comlinks in various states of assembly.

"I'm going to shower." Sena announced abruptly, bouncing up from the bed. Her abs still glistened with sweat and he admired her ass as she made for the door. "Stop ogling, pervert!" She snapped as she caught sight of his gaze in the mirror.

"To late, you're well ogled!" He ducked as she chucked a shoe at him and it bounced off the wall to fall among a pile of clothes. She vanished into the refresher as he stood and walked into the living area of her small apartment. It was a single room unit, a few stories above the smog line. The slicing business paid well enough that she could afford some nice digs, far nicer than his own dwelling near the city core. His own trade paid well enough that he could afford vacations and nice toys, but one had to be discreet, and he paid for the run down unit to keep up appearances.

He wandered into the kitchen and retrieved a snack, munching on it as he continued to wander about, oblivious to his own nudity. Anyone above the smog layer got a generous amount of sunlight and he enjoyed the warmth on his skin. His musings were interrupted by the chirp of his comlink and he hurried back into the bedroom, rooting around in the mess on the floor until he found his jacket. He pulled it free and then fished in the pockets until he located the comlink.

"Thrax." He snapped the word as he flicked the comlink on.

"Well heya Thrax, it's Val from the Trespass."

"Val, you old pirate! What can I do for you? Got a job? You never call otherwise." Thrax walked back into the living room, pushing his hair back from his face.

"Jast has a job and he wants you and Sena. I'll call her after you. Money is good, it'll be dangerous, and we're working for Khulbe."

"I'll let her know, we're meeting up in a few minutes." Thrax replied quickly. Khulbe had hired Jast for something. That meant the money was really good. The Hutt rarely paid poorly unless it was a garbage job, and Jast didn't do garbage. "How much are we talking?"

"20k each." Val's voice had gone flat and Thrax felt his eyes narrow.

"You're fucking with me right? You want us both, or you wouldn't have mentioned Sena, which means you need both our skills. 30k a piece and I want information on the target before I sign on." He could almost see Val grimacing on the other end of the comlink.

"Fine. I'll check with Jast and get back to you. I'm going to call Sena anyway, just so you know."

"No issue." Thrax responded as he disconnected the call. A moment later he heard Senas comlink begin buzzing and she appeared at the door of the refresher, her hair damp, water still glistening on breasts and thighs. He was very glad the state of her apartment did not reflect on her personal grooming habits, she was a smooth and clean as fresh durasteel.

"It's Val." Thrax said before she could go for the comlink. "Jast has a job, Khulbes hired him to do something. Not many details but I told him we want 30k each." He was walking toward her as he spoke and she must have seen the mischievous smile on his face because she began to back away from him.

"Back you savage! I just showered!"

He didn't bother replying as he scooped her up and took two steps into the bedroom, tossing her back onto the bed. She giggled and spread her legs again, beckoning him toward her.

Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies

[Five Months Ago]

Okin - Heo Jeong

---

Keep Your Enemies Close

Heo Jeong, he would not claim the title of Crown Prince, stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He needed a Kingdom to make Crown Prince mean something; and to call the slip of land he now ruled anything more than a wasteland was a cruel joke. Scrub grassland rolled away in every direction crowned by the small hill he had claimed as his command post. Before him, their ranks decimated by hunger, disease, and desertion, were all that remained of the armies of Okin. Small contingents of allied troops were scattered here and there to strengthen the line, their banners somehow brighter and taller than his own.

A small creek, barely knee deep, ran across the landscape before the front rank and beyond that, drawn up in silent menacing ranks, were the armies of Akaiba in all their blood red glory. By the Gods he hated them.

For his entire life, and that of his father, the Akaiba had savaged the lands of his people. It was a war that his ancestors had once believed they could win but in his fathers time that slim hope had vanished to the wind as the Southern armies swallowed his country whole. Still, he would not go quietly into the night. He had fretted over his decision for the last week as the end drew nearer and decided, at last, to die with his head held high. There was no alternative. The Akaiba would never permit him to live if he surrendered.

"My lord." One of the two staff officers who still lived interrupted his reverie and pointed. A single samurai had ridden forth from the enemy army. He was dressed like all the others in blood red but a black banner on his back told all those watching that he was a man of importance. His halted his mount at the edge of the stream, a bowshot length from the Okin forces, and waited.

"I will meet him. Alone." The last word halted his advisors in their tracks as Jeong snapped his fingers and his horse was brought forward. He swung up into the saddle, settled his longsword, and then rode down the slight slope of the hill.

His army parted in front of him, thousands of desperate eyes in terrified faces; some so young they could not even grow a whisp of hair. Ill fitting armour, weapons to big for their bearers; what a pitiful ragtag army he had managed to scrape from a land already bled dry. Only his Naga allies seemed even remotely prepared but they too watched him with hidden fear. They knew they would die with screaming alongside him when the enemy crossed the stream.

As he passed beyond the front ranks of the army and the crush of stinking armoured bodies lifted he felt the cool wind swirl around him, gently touching his face and making his horses mane dance. As he drew closer to the distant rider he was surprised to see that the man wore no face mask. The Akaiba had always worn masks stylized with snarling faces that served as effective means of terrifying an enemy. To see a high ranking soldier without one was unexpected.

He halted just shy of the water on his own side of a stream, the water so thin that the two men could easily converse without having to yell.

"Crown Prince Heo Jeong." The Akaiba rider bowed his head slightly.

"General Taketora Ogata." Jeong knew the man, having been forced to retreat time and time again by the others ability to turn Jeongs flank. He was an infuriating enemy but one that Jeong had come to respect.

"I am glad you are still alive." Jeong looked for any sort of sarcasm in his enemies tone but there was none; the samurais black eyes regarded him in turn with something bordering on curiosity.

"Not as glad as I am." Jeong offered lamely and, incredibly, the two men shared a weak chuckle. This meeting was fast turning into one of the strangest moments in Jeongs life. He had expected threats, rudeness, a demand for surrender, anything but politeness, especially from an Akaiba. "Have you come to demand my surrender?"

"No." The single word nearly stopped Jeongs heart. Something else was happening here. He glanced to the East and West, half expecting to see dust clouds descending on him from the flank. Nothing but scrub grass and blue sky as far as the eye could see.

"Please forgive me General, but I am at a lose for words then, given out current... Situation..."

The General offered a thin smile and it occurred to Jeong that other man was wrestling with how to proceed. Whatever he had to say was running contrary to everything he had done up to this point. Jeong opted to not push the point and waited quietly. He took the opportunity to study the man who had brought Okin to its knees. Taketora, the eldest of his clan, was a tall and solidly built man who bore a vicious scar across his face that left him with a permanent mocking expression, save for when he smiled.

"The situation, as you put it, has changed. Drastically." Taketora finally made peace with whatever it was he had to say. "I have received word from the Shogun that the Imperium intends to sail for Seikatsu a million strong."

Jeong did not require any further explanation. He felt the pit in his stomach become a yawning black hole as he tried to comprehend the number. A million soldiers. They would swamp the various Kingdoms of Seikatsu, locked as they were in their internal struggles. He wrestled with his emotions. Even if he somehow survived the coming battle with the Akaiba, whatever was left would be destroyed in a matter of months.

"The Shogun," Taketora continued, breaking in on Jeongs thoughts. "Wishes to extend the hand of peace and invite you, and your allies, to join us in preparing to turn back the Imperium."

Whatever Jeong has been expecting in his wildest dreams, an offer of peace was not it. Here he was, ripe for the slaughter, on the edge of oblivion, and he was being offered life. A feeling of elation and a glimmer of hope suddenly kindled deep in his soul and he fought to keep his face from betraying his feelings.

"Peace. On what terms?" He found himself almost whispering the question so that Taketora had to lean forward to hear him.

"The terms are simple. You agree to serve under the command of a general of our choosing. Your force will be kept together, as will those of your allies."

"And should we win, what of Okin?" Jeong knew he could hardly be given his lands back. That would be out of the question.

"Okin is dead, Jeong. There is nothing left now but for you to die. We offer you the chance embrace that death leading your armies against the Elves; to earn undying glory and the gratitude of all those who call Seikatsu home."

"Death behind every door." Jeong muttered ruthfully, though not unhappily. Anything would be better than dying in this barren scrub ridden wasteland, all that remained of his legacy. Death in battle against the Imperium would write such a different legacy, something worthy of the greatest stories and songs, something his son could be proud of.

"Death comes for us all. There is no escaping it. We may not be able to chose when we die, but we may chose how to meet death when it comes." Taketora was watching him intently. The Akaiba considered death a part of life and Jeong had sometimes envied them for that. Now, it seemed, he would understand them at last.

"Who is the General to command us?" Jeong knew he would agree to the Shoguns offer. It was the only choice. But, if he was to go to war in the Shoguns name, he would serve under no inferior.

"Mine." Taketora actually smiled as he said the word, his white teeth brilliant against his red helmet and black silk.

"It would be an honour." Jeong smiled back. They might be enemies but he knew a man of tactical brilliance when he met one. How often had Taketora out fought, out manoeuvred and out marched Jeongs own forces? Often enough to earn him the nickname Destroyer.

"Your highness." The Akaiba General bowed lower this time and Jeong felt his face flush with pleasure. Taketora urged his horse across the small stream and offered a raised hand to the Last Prince of Okin. Jeong took hold of his enemies hand the two clasped forearms. Their eyes met and Jeong felt the strength of the gaze, the Generals next words igniting a fire within him that he had not known existed. It was a battle cry he had heard before, but never, until that moment, had he felt its power.

"Death and Honour!"

Noiba Castle – Shogun Nagai Kenji

---

The Sterile Shogun

Kenji grunted as he heaved himself off the young maid, pausing only to wipe his cock on the edge of her kimono. Two samurai, their faces impassive, watched as they been directed from the nearby doorway. The girl lay completely still as he finished standing, her legs still splayed wide, her private places wet with his exertions.

“You both witnessed it?” Kenji looked at the two samurai who nodded and bowed low. “Good. Get her out of here and if she doesn’t give birth to a child within nine months, kill her.”

The terrified girl was dragged whimpering out of the room, her kimono still open for the world to see her shame. The whimpers turned to quiet sobs as she was dragged down the stairs. Kenji had no doubt that one or more of the men in the barracks would have his way with the girl and she would produce a child. If it was his child she would be rewarded. If not, she and the child would both die.

Another maid flitted into the room and bowed, handing him a clean kimono. He quickly dressed, tying the cord about his waist as a third maid appeared to clear away the still glistening tatami. A fresh one was laid immediately.

He ignored the maids and stepped out of his quarters to pace slowly down the long hallway of black and white chequered paper walls, turning at last into a small room set aside as his personal shrine.

A small satin pillow rested on the bamboo floor in front of the shrine, it bore only a small golden statue of Shakyamuni, the patron God of all those who lived in the Three Sisters. He lit a small stick of incense and bowed his head to the floor, praying that a child would be born with his face.

Even as he did so, he knew, in his heart of hearts, that no child would ever be his. He had tried to impregnate a different maid, or girl, a week for the last five years and none had born him a child. He could feel the tears prick the corner of his eyes as he considered the reality that he would be the last of his line. The succession of his throne was not something to be taken lightly. Without an heir the throne would pass to his oldest living cousin, Sadatake Ayeka, and Kenji was quite certain that this was the same man who had somehow made him sterile. He didn’t know how, but there was no other explanation he could think of.

He was still on his knees praying when the first of the ninja came over the south wall of the castle. They struck first at the Water Tower, a colossal structure that stood watch over the only bridge providing any access to the fortress. Black shapes, protected from sight by a Madoushi spell, swarmed up the walls with the aid of grappling hooks and the samurai guard was swiftly overwhelmed in a hail of shuriken and crossbow bolts.

The alarm was not sounded until a sharp eyed sentry on the upper level of the castle spotted a pair of grappling hooks sail onto the upper battlements of the inner keep. He managed a shout of warning before he was cut down by the attackers.

“NINJA!” The scream went through the fortress like an arrow through a cherry blossom. Samurai leapt from their beds to take up their swords, rushing out into the night to engage the enemy. Many of them had no time to don their armour and they would pay with their lives.

“Kenji-sama!” A frantic looking samurai has burst into the Shoguns quarters. “Ninja!”

Kenji didn’t hesitate as he ripped his killing sword from its sheath and hurried to join his men. A sick feeling filled his stomach as he did so. Ninja were famously expensive and someone would have had to pay a fortune to hire them for such an attack.

The night was alive with shouts, screams, and the clash of steel. A quick glance down at the walls from his upper chamber showed his disorganized and sleepy samurai being driven quickly down the length of the wall by a well prepared and merciless adversary.

A rush of samurai from a side passage momentarily stalled the ninja attack and furious hand to hand fighting engulfed the lower level of the keep. Samurai hurled themselves at their attackers regardless of their own life and limb and were cut down in droves.

Kenji hefted his own blade and waved a number of newly arrived samurai over to join him. He felt his lips peel back from his teeth in a feral snarl. If this was how his cousin wanted to conduct the affairs of state, he would rip his heart out with his own bare hands.

“Nagai!” He snarled his ancestral battle cry and the samurai around him took up the call. Their voices melded together in a ferocious roar as they charged the oncoming ninja.

Kenji began to chant as he went, the runes on his arms bursting instantly into a dull blue glow. His feet felt lighter and it seemed as though everyone around him slowed slightly. He easily blocked the lunge of a ninja, turning his own blade over top of the others to drive the wicked point into the mans eyes.

The ninja went down without a sound as Kenji moved on, stepping low beneath another attack, driving his own blade upwards so that it split the ninja from groin to shoulder. In an instant the pressure on his forces weakened and then broke altogether as the ninja suddenly retreated the way they had come. Kenji gave a yell of victory and, with his samurai in pursuit, rushed after them, bloodied sword aloft.

He never saw the paint blackened caltrops in the darkness as he charged out onto the open battlements, still blinded by the torchlight from the passageway. The first spike pierced the bottom of his foot and he dropped with a scream of pain, a second driving through his thigh, a third into his stomach. The samurai behind him were unable to stop and several others were felled by the wicked objects.

A flicker in the darkness and more samurai were down as crossbow bolts harvested more lives on the battlements. Kenji tried to shout but a falling samurai forced his face down onto a caltrop, a spike stabbing into his jaw.

The samurai retreated in confusion, driven back through the doorway by more crossbow bolts. Kenji tried to climb to his feet as the ninja moved swiftly back down the battlements toward him. Their leader, a stocky man with a red dot on the forehead of his mask, made eye contact with Kenji and recognition flashed in the dark eyes.

Kenji had no time to speak as the ninja stooped and hacked off his head, quickly shoving it into a bag at his waist before giving a sharp whistle. In an instant the ninja melted into the dark and the bloodied battlements were left to the samurai.

Nar Shaddaa

Khulbe's Palace - Khulbe

---

The throne room had been completely transformed for the dinner. Long purple silken curtains had been lowered from the ceiling, curving down to be secure to the back of comfortable lounging couches that matched Khulbes. All lights beyond the curtains were shut off and the screens that normally kept the bright sun from blinding those in the throne room were drawn upward so that moonlight poured in to glimmer off the white washed walls, fading away into darkness near the floor. The loungers, one per guest, had been carefully arranged around a series of small tables that bore a great number of delicacies from around the galaxy. Khulbe had done his homework on Jast and there was no shortage of delights for the courier.

No space for dancing had been created, this was not that type of party. Small stools had been placed for the slave girls to occupy when they arrived, carefully placed around the edges of the meal so that their mere presence would be felt but no intrude on the meal. Many Hutts preferred wild parties and loud music, and while Khulbe did not mind it from time to time, he sometimes enjoyed an evening of stories from beings whose adventures he could never share.

The slave girls arrived first and were inspected briefly by Zura before being directed to their positions. Nima was sent to sit at the Hutts side. It was a small mercy he was not a handsy type and actually made an effort to bath so that his faintly dank smell was mostly disguised by the scented candles that burned in small pots scattered about the gathering.

When Jast and Telsa arrived they were offered their choice of a lounger before Zura joined them. She was the only one carrying a weapon. No other guards could be seen but Khulbe was certain Jast had sensed the presence of the Defel moving through the darkness. It was not a threat, more of a promise, of violence should anyone act out. At least it was subtle than Gamorreans.

"Jast, Telsa, please, enjoy." D440's mechanical tone was in strange contrast to the intimate scene. "I would love to hear of your journey here, and of your passenger."

Zura's lip twitched as she turned her gaze to the human. She had been wondering when the unexpected guest would be brought up.

Nar Shaddaa

Khulbe's Palace - Zura Lom

---

Zura Lom stood patiently in front of Khulbe, hands folded behind her back, shoulders straight, and gaze level as she met the Hutts dark gaze. She had once loathed the creature more than anything she thought possible and only taken a job from him to smuggle some spice when she was desperate. To her surprise she learned, much as Jast had, that Khulbe was not your average thug. He was smart, played the long game, and turned a tidy profit all while avoiding the attention of law enforcement of most major planets.

"What news of Yesolb?" The Hutt asked. D440 did not translate, Zura understood Huttese perfectly well and Khulbe understood basic.

"Our latest reports indicate that he has begun to move in on our operations in the lower levels of the city. I have a team standing by to retaliate but I wanted to ensure you approved." Khulbe might be a more generous and intelligent Hutt, but that didn't make him anymore merciful to failure. It was always better to wait for his direction than to assume something.

"No, let him gain ground. Use that time to try and track his source of spice. When we hit back I want to ensure we roll up all of his operation, not just the low level street thugs." Khulbe had eased back slightly so that his stomach rounded out and she watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was a large creature, though small by Hutt standards.

"I already have a lead that it is coming in via a pair of Corellian brothers. I don't have any names yet, but I should by the end of the week."

The Hutt gurgled and his mouth widened into what passed for a Hutt smile. "Excellent Zura. You never fail to impress me and your initiative is welcome." The big eyes rolled around the throne room, taking in all of his subordinates. Some suddenly found the ground very interesting while others met his gaze with a grin. There were those who could be trusted to do what needed doing, and those who could follow orders well. It was a good mix.

"I am ever willing to reward a skilled employee. After our evening festivities, take your pleasure with whichever of the girls you prefer."

Zura licked her lips and bowed low to the Hutt before backing away and heading toward the exit. She was already knew who she wanted, Ehottecri, the Togruta. The girl liked some rough fun, as did Zura, and it was not often that Khulbe so easily allowed access to her. Jast must have made the Hutt happy indeed.

Khulbe, meanwhile, had settled even more comfortably onto his platform, closing his eyes and thinking over the days events. He could hear the bustle began as slaves moved in to begin setting up the dinner. They maintained a respectful quiet though a few whispered and giggled with each other. Khulbe did not bother to correct them. Happy slaves were productive slaves and he did not see any reason to make an enemy in his own household.

Nar Shaddaa

Khulbe's Palace - Jos'rizud

---

Jos shook his head inwardly as the human and the hutt went back and forth. The familiarity of the two reminded him of just how well they knew each other. The deal almost seemed fair by the time it was struck and the two toasted each other, Jast with his brandy and Khulbe with some foul smelling brew found on Nar Shaddaa that only a hutt could enjoy.

"Khulbe invites you to adjourn to your ship, and then to your rooms. Dinner will be served in the throne room this evening. Please advise a staffing droid of any allergies or favourite dishes." Jos glanced to the droid as it translated Khulbes next rumble and he felt his eyebrows rise. The human must be more of an asset than he had originally thought.

His gaze travelled back to Nima where she sat, perfectly still, in front of the two. Jos half expected Khulbe to offer one of the prized dancers as personal entertainment for Jast after dinner; but nothing more was said as the human stood, nodded to Khulbe, and strode toward the hanger door.

Jos threw one more glance Nimas way, hungrily devouring her long legs before turning to escort Jast back to his ship. Before the blast door closed behind Jos, he heard D440 ordering Nima and her cohort to prepare for an evening of entertainment for Khulbe and his favoured guest. He did not see the Hutts eyes watching him, noting the attention he had paid to Nima.

@Jackdaw@saix

Nar Shaddaa

Khulbe's Palace - Khulbe

---

"60%. So generous." D400 translated the Hutts speech swiftly, the emotionless mechanical tones failing to convey any hint of sarcasm or interest in the Hutts voice. "How about this. Since you're so desperate to get rid of it, and I am such a generous being, I will take if off your hands for 25% of its street value."

The Hutts eyes gleamed and he held up a hand to forestall any response from Jast. The courier would only have come to Khulbe as a last resort and it was unlikely they would find any decent buyer for the goods given their legality. And once one Hutt turned you down, the others tended to follow suit.

"To make it worth your while, however, I will pay you double the value when you bring me the Trithemeus Reaction. I will pay you five times the value if you bring me a living and unharmed chemist along with it."

He was offering up a small fortune, easily enough to make some major modifications to the Raven Trespass. It was an older model craft and though Khulbe had seen the upgrades done to it, there was always room for improvement. He sensed, rather than saw, Telsa sit up a little straighter as his words were translated.

[@Saix@Jackdaw]

Nar Shaddaa

Khulbe's Palace - Khulbe

---

Khulbe let out a low chuckle that echoed around the room and brought uneasy smiles from the slave girls seated in front of the throne. A Hutts moods and emotions were a virtual mystery to most beings; but for those in the Hutts household who had known him most of their lives, the laugh was an unpleasant one.

"Thank you for the science lesson, Jast." The Hutts eyes narrowed to slits as D400 translated. "I wasn't sure how the process worked."

Sarcasm was not something lost on Hutts and Khulbe was annoyed. Kyber was not unknown to Khulbe, he did traffic most anything you could think of it when it came to mind altering substances. Though he supposed Jast might be reeling off the information in an effort to sell Khulbe; there was no way Jast would know the extent of the Hutts business.

The idea of stealing the Trithemeus Reaction on the other hand... He liked that. The thought had occurred to him before but he had not found someone he thought capable of making it happen. But now... Jast was not a real thief, not that Khulbe was aware of, but he did have quite a history.

"I find this proposal intriguing." Khuble settled back, his huge tail twitching slightly. "I think you already have a plan if you have come this far. I will hear it."

[@Saix@Jackdaw]