---

“Jacen wants to hold off on talking Trithemeus until we’re on Coruscant. He said something about a complication.”

Val Syndulla stood at the Raven’s communications console. Their link was audio only, no holo, as he had called in from the palace on his subvocal link.

“That’s not good,” the captain replied, voice flat.

It wasn’t. Jacen Jast, Jaren’s brother and the real spy in the Jast family, was typically open handed with the Raven. Jaren and his crew were a highly valuable asset to Coronet Analytica’s private intelligence business. Jaren was a dependable independent contractor with a top-of-the-line ship capable of handling its most dangerous and lucrative contracts. Coronet kept them well-provisioned with supplies and munitions, and during their jobs with the firm the executives kept their tremendously long lines of credit open to the crew for their expenses and rarely asked questions. “Complications” had never entered the dialogue during their dealings with Jacen.

“Why don’t we head this off and assume Coronet’s going to short us on support,” Jast said after a long moment’s thought. His tone was confident, which Val liked. The Raven and her crew ran into obstacles with fair regularity. Jast, for all the traits that made him seem a dashing rogue with more balls than plans, was ultimately a cool, competent commander who knew how to control and contain a situation. “Find out if Thrax and Sena are onworld. Let’s bring them in on this. If we can’t get Coronet’s codebreakers on our team, we’re going to need our own.”

“What if they ask for a price?”

“Let’s just set up a meeting before talking numbers. For tomorrow if possible. If they push for a price let’s offer them thirty. Figure that should be enough to get them on board, but if they don’t bite tell them we can negotiate in person.”

“Sounds good,” Val said, bringing up the contact information on the console.

“Alright, I’m going into this dinner. Jast out.”

---

Jast decided, upon entering and admiring the transformed throne room, that Khulbe certainly had good taste. He wondered how much was of the Hutt’s own conception, and how much he left to the designers.

After he and Telsa had introduced themselves into the room with a sweeping bow on the captain’s part and the pilot’s best approximation of a curtsy, the two took their seats. Light chatter filled the air, and they tested appetizers. Jast made a point to lock eyes with Nima and offer her a smile. They had the bones of a good rapport. Though Jast rarely saw the Twi’lek—he saw Khulbe in person perhaps a handful of times each year, spending most of his time in the field and interacting through intermediaries more often than not—they got along well when they ran into each other.

The Hutt spoke.

“I would love to hear of your journey here, and of your passenger.”

Jast smiled. He’d been expecting this question. For a moment it had seemed that it might be avoided, seeing as how well the deal turned out, but there was only so much good fortune he could ask for. He took a sip of Corellian brandy and got on with it.

“Well, let me tell you, this trip over here really starts on Tatooine,” he said, and he launched into the story of their escape from the Smuggler’s Moon just a few short months ago. He related the exciting parts, mostly, interspersed with a good deal of humor. His flight from Nar Shaddaa on a tramp freighter, his duel with the Mandalorian on the Arkanis Sailer’s lowest levels, just as he was boarding an escape pod. He wasn’t a bad storyteller, as far as he could tell.

“…and who do I see? The Mandalorian, same one from Nar Shaddaa, and he’s got his gun on me. I have my blaster on me, but it’s at my waist and my hands are in the air, and I’m forgetting at this point, but it’s still set to stun.” The story ended with a gunfight with a pair of Trandoshan mercenaries and a grueling chase across the Dune Sea as Jast and his compatriot fled Mos Shuuta on a commandeered speeder while the Mandalorian pursued them aboard his state-of-the-art gunship.

“And I’ll never forget this, I see something way up, way above us. It’s the Raven,” Jast said, looking over at Telsa. “I couldn’t believe it. This girl,” he said, pointing at her, “comes flying down into the atmosphere, bearing down on this gunship at, what, must have been a 60, 70 degree angle and unloads. And I swear, I didn’t even know we had that many guns on the ship,” he said with a laugh. “And that’s how Telsa shot down a D-5 Mantis.”

His second looked down, clearly at least a little uncomfortable being the center of the attention. He would have felt bad had he not caught the white flash of a brilliant smile.

“Like something out of a movie,” he continued, “I wouldn’t believe it if someone told me that story.” He pressed on, but the rest of it was more mundane. The trip out to Ord Mantell to meet a contact in Worlport, dipping their toes in the TDT business smuggling pseudoteth, and then the heist. The piracy was one of the least interesting parts to the story, which wasn’t something he’d expected when they’d taken the job. They’d just pulled into a refueling station, a rest stop in orbit around a brown dwarf, barely a living soul present, and done a spacewalk with some fusion torches.

“So, end of story, we pulled out of Worlport and set course for Nar Shaddaa, and just as we’re touching down here we find out this Zelosian girl has been hiding out in a crawlspace—this access way to the landing mechanism—for over a week. Apparently she’d crawled in there while we were docked in Worlport,” he said, taking another sip of brandy. It was a fresh glass. The story had taken him a while to tell. “She was half-dead when we found her. Had to hook her up to an IV and everything. Turns out she’s a decent mechanic, so I have Val putting her to work now in our engineering bay. She’s been talking about bringing a new hand aboard to help out with the technical workload now that Glaato’s gone. Seems like we might have found one.”

It was one of those lies that was so near enough to the truth that you could forget you were lying. “And that’s the story. It’s been a trip.”

---

“Wise choice,” Boqorro said, offering a smile. “I think the captain and first officer are off the ship by now, which leaves Valera in command. You said you’re good with tools, yes? Mechanic-type? Valera is the chief engineer on the Raven. I am sure she will have some ideas about how to put you to work while you are with us.” As he finished, footsteps from around the curved edge of the corridor came within their earshot, and as if on queue, Valera arrived, a small collection of neatly folded clothes in her arms.

“You’re looking better, miss,” the blue Twi’lek said. She talked fast, the words flowing at a rapid clip. “I don’t think we’ve done formal introductions yet. I’m Val, this is Boqorro. The captain let me know you might be coming aboard with us for a while, which is great, seeing as you have at least a bit of mechanical know-how.” Boqorro realized he hadn’t introduced himself. That had been rude, he figured.

“This ship is a real piece of work, needs all the help it can get. Might turn out to be the case we’re lucky you jumped on with us,” she said cheerily. “Come down to the engineering bay,” she said, pointing out a door down the hall, “once you’ve finished getting settled. Feel free to pick out a room, we have plenty of extra bunks here, get something to eat and so on. Take a shower too, probably. But yeah, once you’re settled, I have a project I could use your help with.”

“Also,” she added, presenting the folded clothes to the Zelosian, “I thought you might want to change.”

T’a smiled as she accepted the clothes. “Thank you.”

---

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.

---

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.

---

Nima was among the first of the girls to applaud Jast as she was completely engrossed by the tale he gave to the group and nearly hanging on the edge of her seat. It was just like the fictional stories she would borrow from the library on her downtime. In fact, throw in a love interest and the captain basically had a holo-drama series in the making. Khulbe must have had the same thought because what he said next after praising the captain, was unexpected.

"I should have you visit more often, Jast. Your stories are quite remarkable. This has reminded me of something you might find interesting."

A holo-projector zipped into the room and stopped to hover just past where she sat. It flickered to life to show the image of the famous actor Kade Ritgar. Nima knew his face, as did most of the galaxy. She was watching one of his dramas with the girls just the other day and according to her master, he was due to visit in two weeks time. She glanced over to where her friends were perched on their stools and smirked. She could tell how excited they all were, even Ehottecri couldn't help but share their enthusiasm. Those girls were all die-hard fans of his dramas and had watched every single episode. While the twi'lek was also a fan of his work, she knew that he was a man making a living for himself like almost everyone else in the galaxy and wasn't swayed by his celebrity status. Nima looked forward to meeting him as she was fairly positive Master Khulbe had in mind for her and the girls to try on the new clothes he would be bringing.

Bringing her attention back to their guest, she wondered what life was like beyond these walls. The twi'lek had spent her entire existence sheltered, as something valuable to be safeguarded. Was this to be the rest of her days? Holed up behind the walls of this elaborate palace until she became too old and eventually get sold off, probably back to Olan Fyaar at Madrassa to train new slave girls to be like her? For a brief moment, a flicker of sadness spread across her face and she turned her cheek to hide the slip in her demeanor. She disguised the motion by making it look like she purposely turned to rearrange the skirt of her dress and was glad the Hutt sat behind her.

---

Jast smiled. “Sounds like a good time. If we’re able to stop by, we will. With a little luck we should be able to get the job done and be back here for the event in time.”

“I’m a huge fan,” Telsa added. “I’ll make sure we make it back for it.”

“It certainly helps having the fastest ship in the galaxy,” Jast added.

“Well, not the galaxy,” Telsa offered, taking a sip of her wine.

“The sector, anyway,” Jast answered.

“Some sectors.”

Jast looked at her. She wore a teasing smile and, had the situation not been so formal, might have been giggling. He returned the smile with a smirk of his own and looked back to Khulbe as he leaned back in his chair. “Most sectors,” he said, taking another drink from his glass. Telsa nodded, acquiescing.

“All jokes aside, it’s an amazing ship,” Telsa said. “Jast told me that you were behind funding it. I’m sure you’ll be happy to know I made sure he put your money to good use.” Val had done far more work on the ship over the years and had advised on the purchase and modification of the Raven every step of the way, but Telsa had made some specific recommendations for the engine and piloting subsystems, part of the deal Jast had agreed to when she’d come on with them.

Telsa had flown interceptors during the war, and wanted to again. The Raven wasn’t an interceptor, but she handled like one more so than any freighter Jast had ever flown. The controls were responsive, almost uncomfortably so, and Val had called Telsa’s thrust and booster choices “ridiculous” and “unnecessary.” They were expensive, too, but the end result was a ship that felt like a podracer, and when Telsa was behind the controls, calling the Raven the “fastest ship in the galaxy” didn’t feel so crazy.

---

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.

---

Twenty-one.

Twenty-one was the sum of the amount of points Gleetch had amounted in this current round of pazaak. Unfortunately for him, this means he had just lost fifty-five credits. For the third time this night, this new deck of cards had failed him. He cursed the night he bought it from that scoundrel of a Devaronian back on Tatooine.

”That’s a bust. Better luck next time,” the Ithorian dealer echoed out through its two mouths as he collected Gleetch’s credits. He’d begun to organize his pazaak deck once more for whichever fool attempted to play the house again.

Gleetch sat motionlessly, staring down at his very own deck of cards. Oh, how they’ve failed him for the last. Finally, he jerked his head upwards very slightly. His round, dark eyes observed the dealer’s wrinkled face. The Rodian arose from his seat with great haste and pounded his fist upon the gaming table, garnering the attention of anybody nearby.

“Watch yourself, scum. I don’t take kindly to an Ithorian looking at me like that. If you have a problem, we can settle it outside like true men,” Gleetch spoke rapidly in his native tongue before patting his holster twice.

The poor Ithorian raised his hands upwards, entirely confused and afraid. He’d of course done nothing wrong but that was the way it went. “Apologies, sir. I meant nothing by it. Now, if you’d please leave. We don’t need any problems here,” he replied. The dealer’s stocks for eyes circled the room, in what was a plea for assistance.

Before the bounty hunter could even reply, two stocky Gran fellows approached him from behind. It seems as if the establishment had finally picked up on Gleetch’s loud antics. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d be blacklisted.

“Big guys, huh? Big guys! I’ve worked for your boss, you know! Wait ‘till he hears about this.” Gleetch began to walk away from the table, shaking his head. The two guards trailed him, ensuring he made way for the exit.

Receiving a shove of “encouragement,” the Rodian found himself back on the streets of Nar Shaddaa. He stood up, dusting off his red jumpsuit before storming off in the direction of his ship. Had it not been for Khulbe the Hutt owning that joint, a few people would’ve died.

No-doubt about that.

---

“Did you try the Gungan?” Telsa asked. Jast shook his head.

“I’m trying to keep to the stuff I recognize,” he answered. That was challenging. Though Jast had been to more than a few of the galaxy’s corners, Khulbe’s staff had assembled a dining experience that sampled dishes from across the known universe, many from worlds of which Jast had never heard. It was a surprisingly eclectic experience of the palette, and, to be sure, a welcome one. lol

Before they knew it, the evening had run its course. Jast and Telsa thanked Khulbe for his hospitality as he departed, and the captain made note of the Hutt’s offer. It was not one he was interested in taking up. Moral qualms aside, he imagined Telsa would not approve, which was reason enough.

After Khulbe’s departure he and Telsa made their rounds, saying goodbye and goodnight. As they spoke, Nima, the fire-skinned Twi’lek, gently guided them to the throne room doors. They swung open, and as Jast and Telsa made to leave the slave girl spoke.

“Captain, a word?” she asked. Jast paused, considering her with quizzical interest. He waved Telsa on. His blonde compatriot, slightly drunk, nodded and made her way to her quarters without him.

“Of course.”

“Privately?”

Jast nodded, noting that they were decidedly not alone here, and they proceeded down the corridor toward his quarters. He assumed Khulbe’s license, heard by all, would allow them to proceed without being accosted, but there was a nervous anxiety in the back of his mind. This was a dangerous place to take ungranted liberties. He made polite conversation as they walked, complimenting her dress, the food, the entertainment. They reached his rooms. As the door slid close behind them, he went to the bar.

“I know touching is an issue,” he said, pouring a pair of drinks, hard liquor, and sliding one toward her, “but if drinking isn’t, please feel free. What’s on your mind?”

[@Saix@The Wyrm]

---

Nima caught the glass with ease and carefully sipped the drink. She typically wasn't one for hard liquor or heavy drinking as it doesn't take much for her to start feeling it's effects. She also isn't a fan of how it causes one to lose control over their mind and body.

"Touching, at this time, isn't an issue since permission was expressly given by Master Khulbe. If you want to touch me, you will be free to do so. Otherwise, if that permission wasn't extended, just me being in this room would have spelt trouble for the three of us were I to be found here." She took another sip of the brown liquor, "Drinking also falls under the same category."

She held the cup in her hands, almost unsure how to continue. She was afraid, but she wasn't sure if she was afraid of his answer or how it might change her. Subconsciously, she started to spin the glass cup between the tips of her fingers as she finally brought herself to ask him the question that has been bothering her since the hangar incident. "Why did you stand up for the girl?"

Jast took a long drink, draining half of the liquor from the crystal glass before setting it down and taking a seat on one of the several high rise stools that flanked the marble counter. He motioned to the seat beside him, extending an invitation to sit. "You mean the Zelosian?" he asked after the moment's pause, his words slow and deliberate. Guarded, maybe. "Seemed like the right thing to do, I guess." He took another sip of the liquor.

At his invitation, she took the seat next to him, arranging her skirts carefully around her. Nima continued to play with her glass. "This is Nar Shadaa, Captain, no one does anything because it's the right thing to do. Especially when some stranger nearly screws up a business deal for them..."

"That's not how it is where I come from," Jast answered, leaning on the counter as he considered the liquor. He turned the glass in a slow circle. "I've been doing this for a while," he continued, "but I've never found it easy to leave the ideals of the Republic in the Republic. The worlds and the people out here are different, but I'm not." He took another sip, set the glass down again and returned his eyes to hers. "I don't know what happens to a girl who falls into Khulbe's hands, but I had a chance to keep it from happening. So I kept it from happening."

"Master Khulbe is probably the best a slave could ask for, which I know is surprising. He makes sure we are looked after." She never had to explain what it meant to live under Khulbe before, but most times her guests weren't concerned about holding a conversation with her. "I only hear comments here and there about the Republic. What exactly are their ideals? Is it really so different as here?"

Jast smirked, exhaled something resembling a small, mirthless laugh. "I don't know. It's a big place. Individual rights, though. Liberty. Freedom. That kind of thing." He took another drink, pausing to collect his thoughts. "There's no slavery. Well, I mean, there is, but it's illegal. Mostly. Like I said, it's a big, complicated place. Generally speaking, though, you're allowed to do what you want. Drink what you want to drink. Touch who you want to touch."

"There are free Twi'lek women here Captain, they are just few and far between. Most are sold by family, some sell themselves, and others..." she trailed off, taking another sip of her drink not wanting to finish that trail of thought. This was a door she hasn't opened in a long time. "How many twi'leks have you seen look like me?"

“A few, maybe? I couldn’t say.”

"And how many of them still have their freedom? Can live their lives how they choose to without fear?

“Maybe not so much here. But back home, for me, yes,” Jast answered. “The laws protect everyone in the Republic. So yes. If they lived on Coruscant, Corellia, Alsakan, yes. They could.”

"Here there is no freedom..." Nima ran a finger across her collar as she spoke. "What if she betrays you? Would it still be worth it?"

Jast shrugged, uncorking the liquor and pouring another glass. “I don’t know.” He put the harsh liquid back with practiced ease. “It’s not a crazy idea. We’re taking precautions with her while we’re in the air, just in case. It’s not safe bringing strangers aboard, but I think it’s worth giving her the chance. Considering the circumstances.” He rolled the crystal glass on the rounded edge. “What makes you so curious, Nima?”

Nima leaned back into the stool, crossing her arms as she spoke, "I have spent nearly my whole life on this moon being reared to be a class 1 slave and I have seen the darkness it holds. I have seen fathers, mothers, brothers sell their sisters and daughters. Some of these people would sell their own mother for a few credits. No one has offered kindness without wanting anything in return and would definitely not have offered it earlier in the hangar. I'm trying to understand you Captain. I have never met someone with your ideals..." She paused, afraid to voice what she felt for the first time in her life. It was hope that brought her here. Hope that someone would extend her that kindness, but there was fear there too.

Jast offered her a small smile. "I haven't met a lot of people like me here either. I'm not sure I understand myself half the time. Why I'm here, I mean. Why I work with the people you know," he said, voice seemingly thoughtful. "All I know is some things are right, and some things are wrong. I try to do the right things when I get the chance. So maybe that's helpful to you."

"It is." She replied, offering back a sad smile of her own. "That girl is lucky she snuck aboard your ship. I am starting to wish someone like you was there for me all those years ago..."

“She is. Hopefully she sees it that way.” Jast reached out to give her a brief, reassuring touch, hand to her shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

Nima laid her slender hand on top of his, savoring a touch that was given in reassurance, rather than lust. "Thank you for your time Captain. I will leave so you can rest for your trip tomorrow. I wish you safe travels and hope you return with your bounty." She removed her hand from his and stood, using the counter for support. She didnt drink enough alcohol for her to start feeling tispy, the conversation itself was draining on her. She stepped towards Jast and laid a hand on his broad shoulder.

"For luck." She said before laying a soft kiss on his cheek. "Good night Captain."

"Thank you," he answered. "Good night."

Nima didn't remember the walk back to her room. She barely heard the security system recognize her collar and open door to her chambers, she simply walked into the space when it was made available to her. Once the door shut behind her, she pressed her back against it and slid to the floor. It was then that her emotions were allowed to bubble to the surface and for the first time in years, she cried, hugging her knees to her chest for comfort.

@Jackdaw@The Wyrm

---

A shirtless Jaren Jast, caf in hand, flickered into holographic existence on the holoprojector console. “Hello?” he asked, setting down a datapad out of view

“I didn’t think you’d be awake,” Val said. The Twi’lek engineer was seated in the Raven’s pilot seat. It was so late in the night to be considered early morning.

“Still on Ord Mantell local time,” Jast answered. “What’s going on?”

“I was looking into hangars at Garbella Memorial,” she said. She was referring to Garbella Memorial Starport, one of the largest planetside starports on Nar Shaddaa. “Hangar 141 has an open berth next to the Rodia’s Revenge. It’s a freighter captained by a Rodian bounty hunter, Gleetch Elnam.” The holographic image of Jast was too small to interpret his facial expressions, but by Val’s estimate he seemed to become thoughtfully curious.

“Rodian bounty hunter?” he said, attempting to remember. “Didn’t I shoot him?”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, on Ryloth a few months back. During that job for Yurga,” he said.

“No, that was Gleenik. Gleenik Anam, I think. Different Rodian. This guy’s a freelancer. He’s a good merc according to Khulbe’s database.”

“You think we need the help?” he asked. Val nodded. She did, in fact, think they needed the help. Telsa had been right in pointing out they were going after the Pyxis. It was a dangerous group, and if the crew needed firepower, they didn’t have it.

“We do.”

Jast nodded. “Alright,” he said after a moment. “Book the hangar, we’ll talk to him about coming on with us.”

---

Thresholds were the key to the Ministry’s operations. In a galaxy full of trillions, in an empire whose citizens numbered in the hundreds of billions, it was impossible to expect absolute security of information. The Ministry of Intelligence had determined long ago that there were certain tolerance thresholds it would have to accept, simply for the fact even an organization as robust as the Ministry lacked the resources to make itself omniscient. Some spies would go unrooted out, some defectors would disappear into the manifold worlds of the Republic, and some information would make its way into the hands of the enemy.

Medical records of hundreds of the Sith Empire’s highest-ranking administrators, Sith, and most prominent private citizens had not been within the tolerance thresholds the Ministry deemed acceptable, but once the offending Republic agents had escaped Nar Shaddaa, and then Tatooine, there seemed to be little to be done to remedy this failure of internal security.

The Gunslinger, as the intelligence team charged with reviewing the incident had named him, and his crew had escaped on an XS-class light freighter, such a common and replaceable ship that a hunt for the team seemed to more or less entirely impracticable. That said, they appeared to be irregulars, and the ship was outfitted with military grade ion warheads that required specifically designed, similarly military grade launchers to fire. The intelligence team concluded that it was probable that the ship was likely not a disposable asset, and that its crew would continue using it. A quick transponder swap was still an option for the crew, however, and that issue plagued the team’s ability to develop a strategy to track the field team.

Until a clever intelligence analyst on Dromund Kaas had applied the philosophy of tolerance thresholds to the problem.

While transponder signals could be changed with some clever slicing and engineering, even swapped freely with a dedicated program, a ship’s drive signature, that is, the many various emissions and signals given off by the ship’s engine, would remain the same without considerable effort. This was not particularly useful, usually, as ships within a particular class would have only marginally different drive signatures. This made transponder codes the superior form of identifying vessels, practically speaking. However, for ships as readily and eagerly modified as the XS freighter, the various modifications made to the ship would alter the drive signature substantially enough that similar ships could be distinguished from one another.

By using the sensor readings captured by the D-5 Mantis during its engagement with the freighter over Tatooine, the analyst was able to extrapolate a void-applicable drive signature, which could be used to parse through and compared to the drive signatures of other XS-class freighters. Initial tests showed significant enough variance in the drive signatures among XS freighters that the ships could be meaningfully distinguished.

For their success, the team was rewarded with a reassignment from the nigh-palatial accommodations of the Ministry of Intelligence’s central headquarters in Kaas City to a cramped office on an orbital spaceyard over Nar Shaddaa.

Deklen Ordo found something amusing in that.

Ordo stepped off the turbolift and into the offices of Kadiza Star-Traders, a company which existed only on digital registrations filed with the Nar Shaddaa government. Inside, a half dozen sleep-deprived analysts sat in their cubicles, furiously working away at their terminals on whatever it is analysts did. Ordo passed them by without much greeting and came to the office of Lieutenant Skaddi.

Skaddi was a lean, hatchet-faced Ministry officer with a deep mistrust of Ordo. Cipher 12’s mandate requiring the integration of the Mandalorian liaison had been accepted and executed, but professional accommodations did not extend to the Lieutenant’s personal relationship with the mercenary. Ordo didn’t care for him much either. Most of Cipher 12’s staff were overcompensated bureaucrats who had never fired a blaster at a moving target. He figured that kept him employed, though, so he didn't pass overly harsh judgment on this note.

“We have a 96% match docked at the personal hangar of a Hutt businessperson,” Skaddi said in greeting, eyes fixed on his terminal screen. “Entrepreneur and reputed crime lord by the name of Khulbe.” Ordo smirked. For all the things the Ministry of Intelligence knew, its understanding of Nar Shaddaa was superficial at best.

“I’m familiar with him. Following up will be difficult while they’re berthed there,” Ordo offered.

“Scans detected what we are highly confident is a modified portside missile system. We’re not following up,” Skaddi rebuffed him. “You will take a team planetside by way of the Manticore and wait for them to move. Once they’re clear of this hangar, apprehend them on the ground or incapacitate them in the air once they leave Hutt airspace.” Skaddi looked at Ordo, icy, piercing eyes locking with the Mandalorian’s. “Understood?”

Ordo offered him an appeasing smile. “Understood.”

---

Garbella Memorial Starport was the single largest structure in Dijuula City, a monolithic cylinder two kilometers wide and hundreds of stories in height. It was capable of accommodating nearly any atmospheric capable starship or aircraft in the galaxy in its massive array of hangar bays. Jast whistled as Telsa brought the Raven in on approach.

“That’s massive,” he said, his eyes taken away from the terminal for a moment. Telsa nodded, and continued updating Garbella Memorial Control with their approach vector.

“How’s the message?”

“Mr. Elnam and Company, my name is Jaren Jast, captain of the courier ship Raven Trespass. I understand that we have we a mutual association with Khulbe the Hutt, and that you have an excellent reputation as a mercenary. I have a unique and exciting opportunity with high potential compensation, and believe that you and your crew would be an excellent fit for the job. We will be docking our ship at Hangar 141 at Garbella Memorial Starport, and would be interested in discussing this opportunity further if it suits your interests.”

“I hate it,” Telsa commented after a moment’s thought.

“What about it?” Jast asked with a laugh.

“Mr. Elnam and Company?”

“What am I supposed to say?” Jast asked.

“Just, Gleetch Elnam. Colon,” she suggested. Jast tilted his head, and acquiesced, amending the greeting from Mr. Elnam and Company to Gleetch Elnam:.

“Fair enough,” he said.

An hour later, after clearing their approach and descending into the great central ring of Garbella Memorial on repulsorlift power, Telsa set the Raven down in Hangar 141. She completed her post-landing checks with practiced ease, and they lowered the boarding ramp and disembarked a few minutes later.

Val and their new crewmate, the Zelosian T’a, made their way to a stack of crates, where Val planned on assigning T’a to do inventory on the provisions they’d ordered to restock the Raven. Most of what they were taking on was water, but they had an urgent enough need for dry goods that Val, acting in her quartermaster role, had insisted on provisioning the ship before making another trip off-world. Jast watched as she handed off a datapad to T’a to take inventory while she spoke with the docking officials. E2-M6, the ship’s astromech droid Val had tasked T’a with repairing upon her coming aboard, beeped excitedly as it followed the Zelosian on her errand. Boqorro, Val, and now E2 had taken a liking to T'a quickly; Boqorro had even fixed up her old blaster for her, which the Zelosian now carried strapped to her thigh.

“What now?” Telsa said, hands on her hips. Jast shrugged, taking in the massive, four-ship hangar bay and settling his eyes on the silent form of the docked Rodia’s Revenge.

“We wait for Thrax and Sena. And we see if Mr. Elnam and company want to play ball,” he said. Telsa nodded.

“Easy enough.”

---

“We really need to invest into a fucking cleaning droid,” Gleetch growled as he maneuvered through the confines of his ship. His elongated fingers trailed against one of the ship’s overlaying pipes, revealing just how dust-filled the ship was. Luckily, he had a canteen full of that lovely drink to soothe his woes.

A curious beep was arising from the direction of the ship’s cockpit. From the looks of it, the gang had a message. It wasn’t often that they’d get these. Usually, they were offered contracts in person. Truth be told, Gleetch hated being on this piece of metal. He took any chance he got to land and stay as for away from it as possible. It was always so claustrophobic and stuffy. Well, that shouldn’t be a surprise when you buy your ship from some bum merchant on Ryloth for cheap.

Rubbing his face, the Rodian took a swig of his canteen and entered. He saw the large Houk, Bluurok, sitting down and observing this constant beep.

“Look, Gleetch. It’s been making noise for the past five minutes,” the Houk sat there with absolute concentration. One could even mistake him for a statue.

“You’re an idiot. You know that? Get out of the way.” Gleetch remarked with scorn in his voice before pressing forward. He patted the giant’s shoulder twice, signaling for him to move. Thankfully, he did.

“Why don’t you do something useful and fetch Jor’ Kai, eh?” The Rodian said before focusing his attention on the ship’s terminal. His fingers began to clack at a few buttons, opening up the message.

“Gleetch Elnam: my name is Jaren Jast, captain of the courier ship Raven Trespass. I understand that we have we a mutual association with Khulbe the Hutt, and that you have an excellent reputation as a mercenary. I have a unique and exciting opportunity with high potential compensation, and believe that you and your crew would be an excellent fit for the job. We will be docking our ship at Hangar 141 at Garbella Memorial Starport, and would be interested in discussing this opportunity further if it suits your interests.”

“Interesting…” the Rodian muttered to himself before hearing the loud padding of footsteps behind him. In stepped Bluurok once more and the infamous Jor’ Kai right behind him.

“Let me guess. Some Hutt on a rimworld?” the crackshot pilot, Jor’Kai remarked. He crossed his arms, waiting for the Rodian to explain. From that look on his face, he was probably fairly annoyed. On the other hand, Bluurok just stood there looking as aimless as usual.

“Not exactly,” Gleetch replied. “Just read it for yourself.”

“You know I can’t read, Gleetch.” The Houk said firmly.

Heaving out a loud sigh, Gleetch didn’t even bother offering up a reply.

Jor’Kai grinned as began to approach the monitor, “It’s alright, big fella’. All you gotta do is read the zeroes. That’s how much we’re getting paid.” He peered in, scanning the message.

“Well, what do you think? I’ve seen that Jast fella’ around Khulbe’s before; smuggler type. I assume they need muscle,” Gleetch added. “If they try to pull anything, I like our chances.” The Rodian smirked.

“Well, why the hell not?” Jor’ Kai responded. “We could use the extra credits.”

“You know,” Gleetch began as he typed up a response. “They’re actually in this starport. Why don’t we pay them a visit?

The message Gleetch wrote read as…

”We’ll be there shortly. Expect us.”

Jor’ Kai chuckled as he glimpsed at the short message. “You got a way with fuckin’ words, Gleetch. You know that? Let’s get moving.”

The Rodian waved his hand dismissively as he arose from the pilot’s chair.

The trio began to make way for the ship’s boarding ramp. As they watched it slowly descend, each of the bounty hunters took one look at each other. Gleetch nodded before making his way out of the Rodia’s Revenge. The others followed.

“That’s the one,” Gleetch spoke as he pointed at the Raven Trespass, docked at hangar 141. The three bounty hunters made pace for the ship, scanning the area for anything of interest. Once they stood firmly in front of the Raven, the trio would simply wait.

---

Sena woke to the sound of her commlink beeping and groggily turned her head to the left to look at the clock on her nightstand. It was early in the morning. Too early for the night she had. To her right lay Thrax, who slept like the dead, undisturbed by the ringing or her movements. She contemplated ignoring the call in favor of savoring the warmth of her linen sheets but she decided otherwise and with heavy limbs Sena rolled out of bed, exposing her nude body to the room. She dragged her feet to where her clothes lie in a messy pile and fished out her commlink.

"Sena." she answered, her voice heavy from her slumber.

"Good Morning, It's Val."

"Morning! Early call must mean you have details about this job for Khulbe that Thrax told me about? Or at least where to meet the Trespass?" She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she spoke and was glad she rolled out of bed to take the call.

"Yes it does. 30k each if you'll take the job and exact details about it will be given when you get here. We'll be docked at the Garbella Memorial Starport."

Sena took a moment to think about the offer, running slender pale fingers through her short black hair. It was a high risk/high reward job, that much was given, but she liked the crew of the Trespass and 30,000 credits is 30,000 credits. She figured they could always refuse once they heard all the details if the risks were too great.

"Which Hangar?" She asked.

"141."

"Alright, see you later!" She said as she hung up the call and turned to crawl back into bed. Inhaling deeply, Sena wished she could just close her eyes and go back to sleep but she knew if they were going to make it to the hangar at a decent time, they needed to get up soon. For that to happen, she had to wake up her slumbering partner who had turned in his sleep towards her direction while she was on call. Sena started by tracing her fingers along his chest, making random symbols upon his skin, seeing if that was enough to wake him. When he didn't react, she moved her body closer to his and started planting small kisses starting from the nape of his neck and working her way down, occasionally using her teeth to gently bite him. Thrax's breathing pattern soon changed from the deep even respiration a person does during sleep to the more shallow, quickened breaths.

Sena stopped when she reached his hips and brought her gaze up to meet his, very much pleased with herself.

"I can get used to waking up like this." Thrax said, his voice deep.

"Val called to give us a rendezvous should we want to take on the job. They'll be at Hangar 141 at the Garbella."

"Any details?" he asked.

"They'll be given when we get there."

"Damn, I had wanted those details before we saw them… do we have time for you to finish what you started?" Thrax asked, his eyes dancing with excitement. Sena replied by returning her soft lips to his body.

-----

It was early afternoon by the time Sena arrived at the starport by air taxi. She paid her driver and waited with her gear by the main entrance of the port for Thrax, keeping a careful eye on the sea of species that moved around her. Pickpockets and thugs frequently use these areas as hunting grounds for travelers who don't pay attention to their surroundings. She had packed relatively light, one duffle bag carried the tools she needed for work and the other carried her personal items. Sena didn't have to wait long at the bustling mouth of the port before Thrax showed up, which was impressive given he had to travel back to his place to pack and change. He brought with him a securely locked trunk for his belongings rather than a bag like she did. He would be bringing with him more sensitive items than she would, as all her data pads were equipped with security settings that made it so only she had access to their contents. With a short greeting, Sena plopped her bags on top the trunk and they carried their belongings together.

The pair made their way to the hangar where the Raven Trespass was docked, weaving through the heavily trafficked port with ease even with their belongings in tow. There were many other species traveling as they were. Some were on their way to jobs, others were wandering from one port to the next seeing where their travels will take them. Even fewer were more high profile people that paid others to protect and move their property while they conduct business. Once they reached the blast doors of the hangar, they placed the trunk down so Thrax could activate his commlink to hail Jast's ship while Sena fixed the dark brown jacket she wore back into place and kept an eye on their luggage. As soon as a connection was established they resumed their march through the doors while they waited for someone on the ship to accept the call. Even if they decided not to take the job, at least they got some decent exercise out of all of this. In front of the Trespass they found an interesting trio: a Rodian, a human, and a houk. They stopped their approach at the sight of them, not wanting to alert the strangers to their presence.

"Either Jast is in trouble, or he is assembling one hell of a crew for this job." commented Thrax as he signaled for them to quietly place down their luggage. If things were to get dicey, he would be ready for it. He lowered the volume on his device and handed it to Sena; it was still ringing.

---

Jast rubbed a temple. This really didn’t qualify as negotiating. No, it was more haggling than anything. The Twi’lek dockmaster, a tall, sallow skinned being with a shit-eating grin like a shark’s, would not stop smiling. He wanted twenty percent above market rate for the water and wouldn’t clear them for takeoff until they paid.

Not even haggling. It was plain extortion.

“Let me take it from here,” Val said, “looks like we have company.” The engineer nodded over to the gathering crowd. Jast looked over and gave Telsa, ever on his right, a nod.

“Alright. You take care of it. No more than fifteen percent, final offer,” he said, the last bit directed with pointed frustration at the dockmaster. Val nodded, and let the two get to the real work.

Jast and Telsa walked over from the hangar’s far right, and as they approached, the captain of the Raven Trepass flashed their guests a broad, white smile.

“Thrax, Sena,” he said as they closed the distance, giving them both firm handshakes in greeting. “Pleasure to see you two again. And you,” he said, moving to the Rodian at the head of his trio, “must be Gleetch Elnam,” he said, offering the captain of the Rodia’s Revenge a hand in turn. “That’s a great looking ship you’ve got over there. Jaren Jast, captain of the Raven Trepass. Pleasure to meet you.”

Telsa, meanwhile, made introductions with Thrax and Sena. She’d become such an integral part of the crew that Jast often forgot she was still relatively new to the scene on Nar Shaddaa. She hadn’t had a chance to meet the breaking-and-entering tag team the last time the crew had contracted with the pair. “Right, sorry,” Jast interjected. “Thrax, Sena, this is Telsa Jetstar, our dedicated pilot. She’ll be flying us out to Ord Mantell for the job.”

---

A short, stout Lannik sat at his console atop one of the eight vaunted towers of Garbella Memorial, at the very heart of the starport's nervous system. Aerospace Control Tower 3's deck was a busy, chattering office, abuzz with energy as dozens of aerospace controllers worked away to carry out the starport's day-to-day business.

Deben Yaan's communicator buzzed excitedly in his ear, and the Lannik tapped a button on his console. "Garbella Memorial, Aerospace Control," he announced into the receiver. He should sound more alert, he knew, but it was early and the caf hadn't done enough for him that morning. Not that he needed to be, really. Garbella Memorial was not only the largest starport on Nar Shaddaa, it was also the most advanced. The starport practically operated itself, its automated systems providing more than enough information and processing power to guide its air and starships through docking and launches. For all the business of the control tower's setting, he was more of a supervisor to the computer system than an aerospace traffic controller.

"Aerospace Control, I am requesting an immediate lockdown of Hangar 141," the caller stated flatly, save for some clear emphasis on immediate. It wasn't a request. Yaan's understanding of the military came from holovids alone, but that authoritarian bark sounded like an order a military officer might give. He yawned.

"Please provide clearance codes," he answered. The military officer-type on the other end of the call provided a long alphanumeric string, which the Lannik diligently recorded and inputted. The system denied clearance. "Please repeat," Yaan said, and the charade played out again. Denied. "I apologize, sir," Yaan said with clear insincerity, "but your clearance codes are out of date."

"This is unacceptable. I speak on behalf of the Sith Empire! That hangar needs to be locked down at this moment!" The caller's voice grew louder and more shrill with each syllable. Yaan took a sip of his third caf of the day, mulling over what the Sith Empire could want with a hangar currently berthing three light freighters. Or why a Sith official would be calling an aerospace control tower to do, well, anything. It felt too mundane.

"If you would like to speak to my supervisor, I can arrange for him to take your call," the Lannik offered, looking over to Grotto and giving him a nod. The Toydarian, busy with another controller's console a few cubes down, put up a hand in the universally recognized signal for wait. "He's busy at the moment, can you hold?"

"Absolutely not! Who is this-" Yaan pressed the hold button and drained the caf before taking his next call.

---

The trio bantered amongst themselves, waiting for Jast and his crew to arrive. Talk of what the group would buy with the supposed shipload of credits they’d receive was the main subject. Gleetch would also make predictions on what exactly they were dealing with. If he had to bet on it, he’d no doubt wager on the issue being space. That seemed to be all too common nowadays. On the other hand, Bluurok hoped there would be no violence whatsoever. In other words, a waste of time.

“Who are those two?” Gleetch pondered as he saw two strangers approach the Raven Trespass. Just how many people did this Jast fella’ hire anyway? Gleetch only hoped there was enough credits to go around. While the Rodian loved his job, he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it for free.

Before the silence between the duo and trio could be broken, out came the Raven Trespass’s crew from the hangar’s far right corner. The trio sized them up, observing them for anything out of the ordinary. From the looks of it, they seemed to be the everyday mercenary. It was common practice for them to do this. After all, they were shady individuals who haven’t worked well with groups in the past. To the victor goes the spoils...as they say.

And so, the formalities came. It seemed as if the duo was familiar with Jast and the sort. Gleetch, had never met the man and was never one for greetings. He simply kept to himself, observing the entire scene with perhaps a hint of annoyance. It was no secret that the Rodian was ready to get going. He was eager to lay waste to some poor fools all while getting paid for it. This “camaraderie” was a hindrance. A waste of time, even.

Jast seemed to have gathered quite the crowd. This wouldn’t be the typical “find the target and blast him” type job. With the group assembled, Gleetch knew the bunch were in for quite the adventure. Luckily, this most likely meant a good payday. Now, he only had to decide whether he could trust them or not.

Finally, the smuggler captain himself would approach Gleetch with eagerness it seemed. His open hand would extend towards the Rodian, expecting a shake in return. Not one for formalities, Gleetch stared down at his hand before crossing his arms in response. He’d rather cut to the chase then make a new buddy. Not to mention, it isn’t like this smuggler had earned his respect. Any chum could deliver crates. Well, that’s what Gleetch told himself anyways.

“Let’s cut to the chase, smuggler. How much are me and the boys getting paid?” Gleetch spoke in basic. “While we’re at it, why don’t we discuss who we’re shooting at too? Seems like you’re gathering a small army.” The Rodian smirked while glancing over at the others. He looked back at Jor’ Kai who stood behind him. Usually, he’d be the one to do the talking. As evidenced by this encounter, Gleetch was not good at these sorts of things. On the other hand, Jor’ Kai was definitely much more charismatic and seemingly friendly to the everyday stranger. A completely different story when compared to the erratic and impatient Gleetch.

---

"Just throw your gear in here. I hope you don't mind sharing a cabin...?" Telsa looked painfully awkward as she pointed Thrax and Sena toward a small two bunk space. It seemed that the Raven Trespass was not what you might call "roomy".

Thrax stuck his head inside and took a quick look around before turning to face Sena and holding out a closed fist. "I'll toss you for top bunk."

Sena raised an eyebrow at him. "Promises, promises." She replied, extending her own closed fist. Telsa watched in amusement as the two adults quickly hammered out a best of five rock paper scissors. Sena won handily, three to zero. "I do love being on top." She practically purred the words as she swept into the cabin and tossed her duffle onto the upper bunk.

"I'll, uh, leave you two alone then?" Telsa interrupted. It was clear that the two were close friends and making the leap to lovers wouldn't take much.

"Nah, I want to explore this baby. Good to know where the escape pods are. Safety first." Thrax said with mock seriousness. He exited the cabin and glanced back at Sena, who winked and made to follow him. She stopped as her comlink buzzed and she glanced down at it before casually waving him onward.

"You go ahead. I'll be there in a moment." She retreated into the cabin and sat on the edge of the bunk. Thrax nodded, blew her a kiss, and padded after Telsa. Sena sat a more more seconds staring at the comlink before raising it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hello Sena. Listen carefully. All you need to do when I am done speaking is answer yes, or no and then hang up." The voice was female, though deep and sultry. "I represent Jasts employer, a certain Hutt who has a rather sizeable investment tied up in this operation. He would like you to report in to him only if any hinky business occurs and his investment is... mishandled. In return, he offers you 20,000 credits, even if things go smoothly. An additional 50,000 are offered if you are injured or killed as a result of representing said Hutt, secretly of course. I will call you back in one hour for an answer. Are you interested?"

---

Kade sat at the lounge window, watching as the whirling beauty of hyperspace tumbled away while the Origin hurtled toward Nar Shadda. He was alone on this trip, or as alone as any man in his position could be. Just him, the ships captain, twenty crew, his bodyguards Ogint and Hishembi, and Cinna Ovarug, the Togruta who oversaw his vast business portfolio.

"A credit for your thoughts?" Cinna was sitting across from him on another lounger. She wasn't even looking at him but they had worked together long enough for her to know when he was being pensive.

"You ever feel like having to do business on Nar Shadda is... How do I say it, dirty?" He glanced over at Cinna who looked over her shoulder at him. Both literally and figuratively. The planet is a polluters paradise. He shuddered at the thought.

"All the time. The first thing I do when we get back onboard is hop in the refresher. Unfortunately..." She tapped a datapad sitting next to her. "The credits are excellent. I suppose we could pull up stakes but that mean quite a financial loss."

"Yes, yes, and Hutt space allows us to do business in the Sith Empire as well." Kade waved his hand through the air. They had had this discussion multiple times and it always ended the same way. He hated Nar Shadda, but he loved the credits that could be found there.

This particular trip included a tremendous business opportunity. Nar Shadda was famous for a number of things, casinos, loose morals, discounts on anything and everything. Basically, if you wanted it, it could be found in Nar Shadda. Even Kades luxury clothing line, Scarifs Styles, could be found in several boutique stores. The only real cost to the business were taxes levied by the Hutts.

As a result, Kade had been intrigued when Khulbe the Hutt had contacted him and offered a deal. The Hutt wanted the latest launch of Scarifs Styles for his slave girls. Not the day of the launch, but a month early. In return the Hutt had offered Kade the opportunity to import further product for a significant decrease in the taxes usually levied against them.

He had been on the fence until Cinna had crunched some numbers and showed him the profit that was to be made on the deal. That had decided it for him. He had agreed to attend Nar Shadda, though he would not meet with the Hutt directly. The crime lord indicated that he would be sending several representatives to meet with Kade in order to finalize the deal.

He shrugged. Credits were credits.

---

Jast nodded, giving Telsa a smile as she led their in-house slicing team away. Might have been premature to bring them on without getting in touch with Jacen first, but they needed to cover their bases both as fully as possible and as quickly as possible. The slicing team was only one of the bases, according to the plan. The team of bounty hunters was the second base.

"Right, the credits," Jast said, slipping his thumbs into his pockets. "You shoot as straight with that blaster as you do with the talk, I'm guessing you're gonna earn 'em. Just happens to be this is just the kind of job that needs your kind of expertise, too, which means a lot of credits. It's a hunt, more or less. We're tracking down a high level, low profile Pyxis Cartel asset, a scientist. The House is no joke, so we're going to need all the guns we can get, and an extra ship if we can get it. More than that, I need a bounty hunter, someone who can chase leads. People too.

"You've got a ship, more than a few guns, and the skills we need, Gleetch. I'm inclined to pay a lot for that. Three hundred thousand credits, if we bring in the target."

---

"Ordo here," the Mandalorian said into the comm channel. Deklen stood in a rapidly descending turbolift, which, though large, was exceedingly cramped by a fully outfitted fire team of Sith soldiers and a handful of civilians too dumb or impatient to wait for the next lift. Maybe it was apathy.

The four black suited infantrymen, encased in milspec armor that would repel all but the heaviest and most sustained blaster fire, would have looked more at home on the front lines of the Galactic War than Nar Shaddaa. They stood out like anything on the Smuggler's Moon. Being noticed wasn't within Ordo's parameters of comfortable operation.

"Ordo, we are experiencing difficulties with our connections at the starport," Skadi's voice came through the commline. "The hangar is still open."

Ordo opened his mouth to pry into it, but thought better of it. "Orders?" he requested.

"Hold off until we can secure lockdown of the hangar," Skadi said. The turbolift came to a stop, and the doors slid open. Ordo and his team stepped out into Garbella Memorial Plaza, a massive, multilevel shopping center that would have been a city-square on another world, but on Nar Shaddaa was another passing fixture of the ecumenopolis.

"Negative, Command, we are in the open," Ordo responded. They were bound to be spotted. Four hulking, heavily armed Sith soldiers were no common sight on the streets of Nar Shaddaa, and as lost in the crowd you could get, you couldn't escape being noticed with friends like these. "We stand to lose the quarry entirely if we don't move right now," he added.

"Stand down until starport control cooperates with our directives, Ordo, that's an order." Until starport control cooperates, he noted. They'd forgotten to pay the rent, and the lights had gone out. Nar Shaddaa had rules and laws, and ways to wade through them. It took deftness, cunning, and an ability to respect the system while at the same time taking advantage of it. The Sith had no respect for the system. They'd expected to beat it into submission, and were now floundering in the face of uncooperative bureaucrats. If only the Republic had the Hutts on its side during the war.

Imperial Intelligence was not achieving lockdown on Garbella Memorial today, or any day, until they paid their betters their due.

Ordo shut off the comms, drew his blaster, and picked up the pace, pushing through the plaza crowds as he made way for Hangar 141. His four armored shadows followed suit.

---

Kade sat at the lounge window, watching as the whirling beauty of hyperspace tumbled away while the Origin hurtled toward Nar Shadda. He was alone on this trip, or as alone as any man in his position could be. Just him, the ships captain, twenty crew, his bodyguards Ogint and Hishembi, and Cinna Ovarug, the Togruta who oversaw his vast business portfolio.

"A credit for your thoughts?" Cinna was sitting across from him on another lounger. She wasn't even looking at him but they had worked together long enough for her to know when he was being pensive.

"You ever feel like having to do business on Nar Shadda is... How do I say it, dirty?" He glanced over at Cinna who looked over her shoulder at him. Both literally and figuratively. The planet is a polluters paradise. He shuddered at the thought.

"All the time. The first thing I do when we get back onboard is hop in the refresher. Unfortunately..." She tapped a datapad sitting next to her. "The credits are excellent. I suppose we could pull up stakes but that mean quite a financial loss."

"Yes, yes, and Hutt space allows us to do business in the Sith Empire as well." Kade waved his hand through the air. They had had this discussion multiple times and it always ended the same way. He hated Nar Shadda, but he loved the credits that could be found there.

This particular trip included a tremendous business opportunity. Nar Shadda was famous for a number of things, casinos, loose morals, discounts on anything and everything. Basically, if you wanted it, it could be found in Nar Shadda. Even Kades luxury clothing line, Scarifs Styles, could be found in several boutique stores. The only real cost to the business were taxes levied by the Hutts.

As a result, Kade had been intrigued when Khulbe the Hutt had contacted him and offered a deal. The Hutt wanted the latest launch of Scarifs Styles for his slave girls. Not the day of the launch, but a month early. In return the Hutt had offered Kade the opportunity to import further product for a significant decrease in the taxes usually levied against them.

He had been on the fence until Cinna had crunched some numbers and showed him the profit that was to be made on the deal. That had decided it for him. He had agreed to attend Nar Shadda, though he would not meet with the Hutt directly. The crime lord indicated that he would be sending several representatives to meet with Kade in order to finalize the deal.

He shrugged. Credits were credits.

---

The Hutt was brooding. Alone in the darkness of this throne room, hands folded across his huge belly, he stared at the blank wall that shone with the light of the silver moon above. Four hours ago he had ordered the room cleared, barely hearing Zura as she reminded him she heading to meet Ritgar with two of the girls. Had he been less distracted he might have noticed her enthusiasm for what he thought was a relatively boring task. Such as it was, he missed it completely.

Troubling news had come from Coruscant. Senator Eyri Pharliis's Chief of Staff had been murdered. Ordinarily the death of a politician, even one as unimportant as a Pantoran, was cause for some celebration among the Hutts but this was different. Iri Mosvaine had been a user, he knew that, he paid good money to know who was using in the halls of power. Blackmail was what he did, after all. What was troubling was the knowledge that she purchased from one of his suppliers. An overdose would mean an investigation. Normally an overdose was largely ignored by the authorities, who cared if some addict died in the alleyways of the planet surface; but a high placed political staffer. This was more concerning.

If it was his product that killed her, the Republic might take a harder look at his business dealings. This would be bad for profits and though he had more credits than he could ever dream of spending, he would be a skinned Gungan before he let any slip through his pudgy fingers.

Jast was gone on his mission, taking his odd little crew with him. Khulbe knew he had an agent on the inside, which was of some comfort. But that was small potatoes compared to what he stood to lose if the Republic shut down his Coruscant operation. He was the only Hutt who did any business on the planet and any weakness would convince the other Hutts that he was not as strong as they thought, and where would that leave him? Probably dead, or at least dethroned as the most powerful crime lord in the galaxy.

He needed to find out what had happened on Coruscant. If the overdose was a bad batch, someone would know, and that someone was going to die, badly. He shifted his considerable bulk backward until he could feel the cool stone of the seating platform against his tail. But who to send. It would need to be someone the local criminal element feared, someone who spoke with all of Khulbes authority. Not Zura, no, she was needed here. He needed an enforcer. But someone with tact. A trail of bloodied bodies would only lead to more questions. Subtlety would be key.

His hand moved in the darkness, tapping the side of a floating holotable. The thing burst into brilliant blue life at once and he blinked in the brilliance for a moment. He rumbled in Huttesse at the machine and it flickered for a moment or two before a face swam into view, a face encased in a Mandalorian helmet.

"Lord Khulbe. To what do I owe the honour?" The Mandalorians voice was as clear as though he were standing in the room next to Khulbe.

"Raideon. You must go to Coruscant and find out who killed the Pandoran senators staffer. And you must do it before the authorities find them." The Hutts rumble was translated into basic instantly by the holotable. "And find out if it was my supply. If it was, you find out who fouled it up and you bring them to me, do you understand?"

"I'll leave at once." The Mandalorian faded from view.

There was no question of payment. Khulbe never failed to pay handsomely for a job well done. Some Hutts like to haggle, others to cheat those who worked them; this only succeeded in driving the most talented into Khulbes employ. "You need to spend money to make money." Khulbe enjoyed that saying.

He let the darkness embrace him again though his eyes remained open, narrowed to near slits as he glared at the wall. Someone had endangered his business. This would not be tolerated.

---

A red optic, alongside the sound of metals servos and feet moving in a deliberate and efficient path, was the callsign of a droid, however, this was no mere security droid. Such a droid was beneath the cold, ruthless programming that made up the constantly thinking mind of ATD-170a. The reprogrammed imperial droid stood before its master, Khulbe the Hutt, who had summoned it from the rather mundane task of assigning battle droids to security sweeps around the many women the Hutt kept. The singular optic was firmly placed forward as the droid peered into the darkness that shrouded the Hutt, the rather angry Hutt.

“You have summoned me, Lord Khulbe?” The androgynous, robotic voice asked in Huttese as it mentally noted the anger that the Hutt seems to be baring on its face.

“I have a task for you,” Khulbe responded, pausing for a moment before continuing on, “I require you to go with Raideon to Coruscant to deal with a problem there, the necessary information will be sent to you. And be quiet about it, no one on Coruscant must know of your involvement.”

The droid remained unmoving as it heard of its new task, absolutely as giddy as its programming allowed it to be as the task would mean a likely step up in the hierarchy of the crime syndicate, no more petty security duty on a bunch of slaves. ATD-170a would have to hide a smile if it had facial features, luckily it did not otherwise it would have been more noticeable after each passing nanosecond as the mind of the droid calculated each possible avenue of expansion inside of the syndicate. However, there was one lingering curiosity on a mission.

ATD-170a’s voice rang out again, this time asking, “May I bring a squad of-“

“No battle droids,” the Hutt snapped, “This mission is low profile, do not fail me, or else you will be scrap.”

“Very well, Lord Khulbe,” ATD-170a said, turning to leave the presence of its master with a new determination that not even it realized that it carried. After all, such emotion was not programmed into the personality of a droid, since droids were to serve a singular purpose and carry out that one purpose as efficiently as possible. ATD-170a was no exception, however, pride and ambition was a common resurgence within its personality and it seemed that it had developed once more within the core of the tactical droid. Not that it was a bad thing, nor was it a very noticeable thing as the droid tended to keep those emotions buried beneath the cold exterior and the calculating thoughts that it would spout to the nearest organic that was within its service, not that many were.

However, the fact that the mandalorian was selected for the mission rather than ATD-170a alone provoked a small glitch of jealousy, a jealousy that made Raideon seem to be more of a political rival within the syndicate. ATD-170a would need to find a way to dispose of such a rival, preferably without the use of blasters as that introduced a seventy-eight percent decrease in chances of success. The best route to such a goal would likely be sabotage to make the droid seem far more competent than the likes of the mandolorian, and it had already devised a plan with a ninety-six percent success rate, pending new information about the mission. However, it doubted that such information would prove to drastically change the margin of success within the droid’s parameters, though it would need to avoid a memory wipe at all costs to maintain the plan as well.

Once it succeeded, it calculated a rapid rise through the ranks and soon enough, it would be able to rule over a large portion of the syndicate. An evil smile would have gone across ATD-170a’s face, knowing that it would be able to perform this mission flawlessly while being able to carry out its own nefarious schemes to become Khulbe’s right hand. Such a rise was inevitable, but it seemed that this task would only accelerate that rise.

Eventually, the droid made its way through the halls of Khulbe’s palace to find itself in a hanger, buzzing with the normal activity that it anticipated. ATD-170a took a moment to further scheme, the nanoseconds passing slowly as it did, only wanting to perfect the plan to sabotage the mandolorian’s reputation with its master.

>primary objective updated: sabotage the mandolorian.
>failsafe objective updated: kill the mandolorian.

---

Nima sat with her friends as they watched one of Kade Ritgar's Holodramas. It was his first series that catapulted him into fame and a favorite among the girls. She knew all the episodes, as did the rest of her troupe, so Nima watched without really seeing what was going on. She was tired. She hadn't been sleeping well since her conversation with Jast. Nearly every evening had been plagued by her memories of when she was taken and the young twi'lek female woke up those nights in terror.

The company of the other slave girls was a welcomed distraction from her mind and it brought her enough calm to even rest. Her eyes started to drift shut and she curled up on the couch in common area, resting her head on Ehottecri's shoulder. A soft touch on her forearm caused her to open her eyes again, except the scenery was different from when she first closed her eyes. The sun was setting, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow, and the projector was playing a scene from an episode that was further along in the series. About 4 episodes to be exact and with each lasting about an hour long, it meant she had been sleeping for a while.

Nima turned her head, her cheek sliding against the smooth surface of the other woman's shoulder, and found herself looking into the familiar blue eyes of her Togruta friend. It was her touch that woke the twi'lek. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"

"It seemed like you needed it." she replied softly. "You don't seem to be getting much rest lately."

"No… I haven't." the twi'lek admitted, but Ehottecri didn't press her further. Every slave has their own story to tell, a burden they all carry. Some share more easily than others, but most don't ask how they got there. The stories all lead to the same ending, they just have to make the most of their position and not dwell on "what ifs". At least, that is what Nima and Ehottecri were taught and try to share with the other girls. "Thank you."

"Of course."

The two women brought their attention back to the projector, but it was soon interrupted by the messenger Alynia. The short brown haired woman seemed to be looking for her again.

"It's a good thing you girls are nearly always together. It makes my job easier. Zura wants you two to meet her at her office."

"Thank you Alynia, we'll go there right now." Ehottecri nearly jumped off the couch as she spoke, barely able to contain her excitement. The two women didn't bother asking for details as they knew a messenger wouldn't be given any. Security is tight in the palace, no unnecessary information is ever given and only a few trusted individuals ever know the whole picture behind any one event behind these stucco walls.

"Hurry Nima!"

The red Togruta woman didn't even bother to look behind her to see if Nima followed. While romances are strictly forbidden for a slave, especially those of their status, they still happen. She was just glad her friend found romance with the head of security rather than a regular staff member or even worse, a guest. The punishment for it in those cases would be much more severe were it to be discovered by Master Khulbe.

Nima followed Ehottecri at a slower pace, her bare feet lightly tapping on the white marble floors. She wasn't even going to bother with stopping for sandals before going to the meeting. It wasn't a formal event and both women were dressed for a lazy day. A soft smile spread across Nima's face as her friend excitedly led the way to Zura's office.

------

Ehottecri slowed her step and regained her composure as they approached the hallway that led to Zuras office. If Nima was honest with herself, she actually preferred Zuras office space to that of Khulbes. The Hutts own place of business was larger, tended to be suffer from a draft, and was boasted so many windows that you might often think you were floating in the clouds. It had been fascinating the first couple of years, an amazing feeling, but now it just made her stomach churn at the thought of the long fall.

Zuras office, attached to Khulbes by a hidden door, was considerably smaller and designed for humanoids. The Hutt could fit through the main door, and a couch for his use stood to one side, but otherwise it was designed for bipeds who liked to sit on comfy chairs.

Zura looked up from her holopad as the dancing girls arrived and her skin immediately shifted to a warm red colour and a wide smile crossed her face. "Come in! Come in!" She waved to the two plush chairs across from her desk. Ehottecri swiftly sat in one, crossing one knee over the other and leaning forward, tracing a finger along her bottom lip. Nima smiled and sat in the other chair, nodding to Zura.

"Well ladies, it seems we get to go on a bit of a holiday, courtesy of the boss of course." She had a mischievous smile that she turned on Ehottecri as she spoke. "It seems Khulbe is sending us to meet with Mr. Ritgar when he arrives in system."

"All of us?" Nima asked. She was sure there would be a bit of rush for that shuttle.

"No, just the three of us." Zura replied, her eyes dancing. "We're going to have you two check out the new Scarifs Line and I'm to report back to Khulbe. He thought it might take us a day or two so we'll be staying overnight."

Ehottecri clapped her hands with glee and then reached over to squeeze Nimas hand. "A holiday! I've never been away from the palace without an escort."

"I am your escort, so make sure you behave." Zura growled, only partially kidding. They all knew Khulbe would exact a terrible vengeance on Zura if something happened to his prized slave girls. "Khulbe wanted to send more but Mr. Ritgar said no. So it will be us, the shuttle will take us up and then come get us as soon as we're done. Now go pack. We leave in a couple of hours when Ritgars ship arrives."

With their hands still claspped together, Nima used their connection to drag Ehottecri from the room. "Yes Ma'am. We'll leave to pack right now" she spoke as they passed through the door frame. "See you in a few hours Zura!"

The door closed behind them with a satisfying woosh that left them feeling compelled to run back to their rooms. Both women still had their hands intertwined as they ran through the halls, head tails trailing behind them in the wind. Laughter started to bubble between them as both women realized that they were being granted their own form of freedom. Even though they were being chaperonned, Ehottecri would be able to spend time with Zura as she wished, free from the sharp, unrelenting gaze of Khulbe, while Nima got to taste the outside world. The thoughts that ran through both women's heads would guarantee them punishment if they were to be found out, but only one of them would end up with a taste that could very well guarantee severe punishment.

-----

Nima stood in front of the hangar blast doors waiting patiently for the other women to arrive while a utility droid carried her small trunk filled with enough belongings for a two night trip. The young twi'lek wore black wax covered skin tight pants and a metallic gold deep v-neck top with thin straps that hung loose and stopped at her hips. The whole outfit reflected light so that she practically glowed underneath the lights of the hallway she was standing in. She stood about 3 inches taller than normal because of the heeled black boots she wore to compliment the outfit.

The first to join her was Ehottecri, who wore a nice short sleeved cocktail dress with a bare back. A droid also carried her belongings as it tailed her.

"Did you pack everything you needed?" Nima asked the other woman.

"Probably enough for a two night trip. Better to be overly prepared than be underprepared."

Nima nodded to the other woman in response. "I like the dress. You looking to impress someone?" She teased

Ehottecri's face flushed slightly as she turned her face away from Nima. "If I didnt know you better, I would accuse you of doing the same!"

As the torgruta spoke, Zura came around the bend, which stopped all banter between the two women. The time had come for them to work. While in the public eyes of the palace, Zura and Ehottecri kept their infatuation for one another in check, though the head of security couldn't keep her flesh from shifting colors in response to her lover.

"Good! You're both here. That saves us time. Lets get on this shuttle and I'll brief you again on why we are visiting Mr. Ritgar and what will be expected of you two."

With her direction complete, Zura lead them through the blast doors of the hangar. Nima had a sudden sense of foreshadowing. Almost as if she were taking steps on a road that would ultimately change her life forever, though it was unknown as if it were for better or for worse.

@The Wyrm

Collaborative post between @Saix and @The Wyrm.

---

The Origin dropped out of hyperspace and hurtled toward Nar Shadda. As it was with any wealthy visitor, the defensive network did little more than query the vessels engine signature to ensure it was valid before moving on to the next vessel arriving vessel. The holo-communicator was immediately bombarded with the advertisements for cheap everything as the ship began to pick up literally anything broadcast from the moon.

Kade was only vaguely aware of the broadcasts, he could hear his navigator swearing colourfully from the bridge as she dialled the noise down to targeted transmissions only. His personal suite was just below the bridge and he could see Nar Shadda growing on the horizon. Two Hutt battlecruisers drifted above them. They always looked so chaotic compared to Sith and Republic warships, but it could be misleading. The Hutts paid good money for the latest weapons and Kade had no interest in being on the testing end of any of the newest toys.

"Mr. Ritgar, shuttle approaching from the moon." The comlink lit up and he sighed. The Hutt wasn't losing any time on sending his beings up.

"I'll be down to meet them."

"Aye, aye." The comlink disconnected before reply. Cheeky. He made his way to the turbolift and was sent racing downward to the Origins only shuttle bay. There was a second shuttle bay further aft but that was for his use only.

He stepped into the shuttle bay, it was empty except for a single V35 Luxury Shuttle that sparkled away to one side. The floors, like the shuttle, were neatly polished and nothing was out of place. He paid his crew good money and he expected them to earn it.

A small grey dot quickly grew into a full sized Hutt G3, a speciality shuttle designed to transport the species large bulk. As if reading his mind the bridge confirmed that there was no Hutt on board. Good. He might have to do business with them but he sure as shit wasn't going to have them on his ship.

There was a small pop as the shuttle broke the magnetic field and then the whine of the repulsor units filled the hanger. A clang and a small thud confirmed the shuttle was down and Kade waited patiently, alone, for the boarding ramp to lower.

Nima and Ehottecri took their places just behind Zura, the twi'lek to her left and the togruta to her right. Nima had left her two companions to their own devices for the duration of their journey to Mr. Ritgar's ship, taking the time to collect herself. She has been off since her conversation with Jast, but this trip should do her well to help her regain focus.

At least she hoped so.

Nima waited patiently for the ramp to lower, her red colored hands clasped in front of her and she wondered what Kade would really be like. She, along with most of the galaxy, only knew of the persona he presented to the public. She was about to be in a more intimate setting with one of the most popular men in the galaxy and she was curious. Would he be like any other man or would he be like no one she had ever met before?

The ramp lowered with a soft hiss and Kade found himself facing a Falleen female flanked by a pretty Togruta and a Twi'lek who made his breath catch in his throat. She was noticeably slim, her hourglass figure only complimented by the golden outfit she wore. Her red skin seemed to glow slightly beneath the landing lights and he had to swallow as gold eyes met purple. The eye contact was not more than a second but he could feel his pheromones shifting to create a sense of attraction for her.

To his surprise he detected the female Falleen producing a similar scent though one look into her eyes told him that it wasn't for him. A glance at the Togruta and he knew just who the falleen desired, and that it was mutual. It was painfully obvious. All this information came in a few seconds and he quickly flashed a smile as the trio paced down the ramp toward him. The falleen held out her hand with a smile. Her grip was strong and he noticed her fighting stance even in this environment.

"Mr. Ritgar, I am Zura Lom, on behalf of my employer, Khulbe the Hutt, thank you for having us."

"Welcome Mrs. Lom. A pleasure to have you." He turned to the Togruta and offered her his hand as well. She looked startled for a moment and then took it awkwardly with a small blush creeping into her face. No one had ever shaken her hand before. "Welcome, Mrs...?"

"Ehottecri." She giggled. "Just plain simple Ehottecri."

"Welcome Mrs. Ehottecri." Kade smiled again and then turned to the Twi'lek, extending his hand once again. It wasn't until that moment that Nima realized she was clenching her hands tightly together. Seconds had only passed, but she had managed to go from calm to nervous. He was so much more handsome than any hologram could show and coupled with his enticing purple gaze, for the first time in her life, Nima was caught off guard.

As he reached his hand out to her, an enticing scent drifted into her space along with it. She liked the smell, it wasn't overpowering and she could only describe it as... male. Nima slid her red hand into his and prayed she had enough control over herself that she wasn't shaking.

Her voice came out breathy as she introduced herself. "Nima Tarkona."

“My pleasure Mrs Tarkona.” He held her a hand a fraction longer than the others before releasing her and stepping back. “Welcome to the Origin.”

He waved a hand toward the nearby turbolift. “Please, follow me.” He began to walk across the gleaming floor, noting that the other two hung behind as Zura walked next to him. It was not often he met one of his own species and he was intensely curious about the female. There was no denying that was very aware of anima behind and he caught himself watching her in the almost mirror like surface of the bay walls. She was beautiful.

The heels of Nimas boots echoed through the halls of the Origin as Kade lead the group towards the front of his ship. Compared to the palace, there was far less security as they passed only a handful of personnel. The ship itself was very well kept and as far she could tell, top of the line.

The area that Kade lead them to was a spacious lounge. A fully stocked bar sat towards the back where they stood at the entryway and in front of them were three large windows that framed the spatial view of Nar Shaddaa. Having never been off-world since she was brought to the ecumenopolis, Nima had never seen the moon from this perspective. It was breathtaking. In the centre of the room was a large circular sectional that surrounded a low matching table and looked about as comfortable as the ones the girls had back home. Throughout the space were various familiar props from Kade's holo dramas. Nima knew them all. As much as she wanted to explore, she had to wait for express permission from not only Kade, but Zura as well.

Kade took a seat on the sectional, noting that only Zura sat while the other two females stood behind her, waiting quietly. He had forgotten that Khulbe kept slaves and it was becoming quite clear that Nima and Ehottecri were not your average Hutt employees. He glanced over his shoulder as the turbolift shot open and Cianna Ovarug, the Togruta CEO of his business empire, stepped into the room. She took in the situation at once and quickly introduced herself around the room.

"Would you ladies care for a drink?" She glanced pointedly at Nima and Ehottecri as she spoke. The two looked at each other before answering Kade's associate. Normally, they are not allowed to partake in food or drink while they were on duty, but these were slightly different circumstances.

Ehottecri placed her hand upon Zura's shoulder before leaning in to speak into her ear. "May we have some water?"

Zura felt a flash of irritation that she controlled quickly. This was something she should have discussed before arriving and she kicked herself mentally for not doing so. She glanced at Kade, from the look on his face, knew he was paying close attention to what came next. She smiled quickly.

"Of course, you ladies are free to enjoy yourselves as much as I am, within reason of course." She nodded toward Kade as she spoke and he agreed quickly, taking her cue.

"Yes, please, make yourselves at home. This is supposed to an enjoyable visit after all! Everyone on this vessel is free to.... make reasonable choices....”

Quickly taking her cue, Nima flashed a smile towards Cianna while she spoke, "If it wouldn't be much trouble Ms. Ovarug, what drink options do you have?" She grabbed Ehottecri's other hand and lead her towards the other Togruta woman and left Zura to speak with Kade.

Cianna led the pair to the bar where a droid lit up as they approached. "Please, order whatever you wish. There are also food options. When you are comfortable, please, feel free to explore. I will have to ensure Zura doesn't take advantage of Kades lack of business sense." She winked and chuckled before walking back to the huge sectional.

She sat next to Kade, across from Zura, and drew out her datapad. Kade sat back slightly. He was good as acting, and had money, that was what he brought to the table. Cianna had the genius to make it all happen and he trusted her to do the right thing. As Cianna and Zura began to discuss the exact deal Khulbe wanted to make happen, he leaned forward on his knees and listened carefully.