Business Is Booming

[Subject 37]

Nal Hutta
[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

Things were going well.
Raekkar was steadily growing, Yidhra had been silenced for now, and the Legion of the Damned was quickly mobilizing it's forces. The Empire had already dubbed them as part of themselves, recognizing the potential they held and drawing them closer. It was only a matter of time before Tyrian himself proved invaluable to the cause, though he knew that would still take a few months.

Patience.

That was the key to his work, patience. It was something he well understood, and something that he was well built for. Time was always on his side. A small smile touched Tyrian's lips, the amusement hidden by the mask upon his face. His hand came up to grab the railing above him, the ship shaking slightly as they dropped through the atmosphere and towards the planet below.

The meeting he was holding today was an important one, specifically geared towards the cause. Though Raekkar was doing well and it's production was through the roof since the installment of the new factory facilities, things were still somewhat...shaky. Most of the things Raekkar produced were earmarked for the Sith Empire's Military or the Legion itself, making dispersal...difficult.

It was a small obstacle to his plan, one he intended on correcting today.

Tyrian needed to sow dissent within certain sectors, and in order to sow that dissent he needed weapons. It was a simply problem, one that would be gone by the end of the day. His grip tightened as the ship lurched once more, the landing struts pressing into the soft earth below.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

The platoon of Bareesh retainers fanned out as the shuttle landed in the marsh a short distance from Gorba's palace. Nikto and Vodran soldiers alike took up positions. The first line knelt and leveled their rifles. The standing line behind them did the same. A gap appeared in the middle, through which Brutus strode. The Klatooinian thought the display of force looked quite impressive.

Useless formation in an actual fight, but yes very imposing to whoever dared visit the great and mighty Gorba at his supreme palace. Brutus did not know much about the visitor. He knew the visitor was a human of some sort with the Sith Empire. He also knew the man wanted to buy weapons. What kind of weapons and how many remained to be seen.

Brutus crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited for the shuttle's ramp to lower.

[member="Tyrian"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

Tyrian stood on the ramp as it lowered flanked by a man and a woman. Both of them wore an odd sort of mesh of armor, though none of the three carried any visible weapons save for blaster pistols upon their hips.

For a few seconds he made no move to step off of the ramp, instead he observed the collection of rabble that stood in front of him. He frowned for a few seconds, wondering for a second whether or not the Hutt was trying to intimidate him. A few more moments hung within the air, and then slowly Tyrian began to walk forward. The two members of the Legion followed after him, offering the band before them nothing short of sneers. Tyrian paid them no more mind however.

They were unimportant.

The Soldier walked up towards what he recognized as the leader of this little group, a man with his arms crossed in front of his chest an expression of what Tyrian could only describe as exasperation. "I've come to deal with your master."

Tyrian stated simply as he stopped in front of the man.

He had no idea how Hutt's did business, at least not anymore. His work with Lord Nashar had prepared him for dealing with Sith, though for some reason he imagined that the two were one in the same in many ways.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

The jutting, craggy brow of the Klatoonian lowered slightly. He snorted through a short, upturned nose.

"Yesh, of course. Right thish way," Brutus said through a massive underbite. Each word in Basic sounded as though it'd been well-chewed before being spat out. Impeccable grammar, but a very distinct accent.

The retainers shouldered their rifles and fell into a square formation, boxing in the three guests along with the Klatooinian majordomo. The group began marching in the direction of the Hutt palace. Well, the soldiers marched. Their boots stamping into the soft soil. Squish. Squish. Brutus just walked.

"Call me Brutus. Whatsh your name?" He asked in a tone so sincere it almost made up for the awkwardness.

[member="Tyrian"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

"Tyrian Allara." He made no move to hide himself.

This sort of business was usually done behind closed doors with fake names and pseudonyms, but he had no need for that. The Sith Empire was a known entity, he was not. No one knew who he was, what he had done, or where he came from. He wasn't particularly concerned about people knowing his name, not when it didn't really mean anything.

Telling one cartel member wouldn't undo him.

The two legionnaires that he had brought fell into step behind him, both of them watching the thugs around them with a very careful eye. Both of them were killers in their own right of course, cut-throats who would murder someone in half a second if they really felt like it, but neither of them felt comfortable with what they saw as 'lesser' criminals. Tyrian wasn't entirely sure how that worked out, but he supposed that everyone had to look down on someone.

Even killers.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

"Chyrian," he repeated, butchering the name. "Nish to meet you."

Although the words came out cheery, there was something odd about the way they were spoken. Perhaps few visited the palace on Nal Hutt, or maybe those that came seldom survived long.

Brutus led the group through the front gates, which were opened by a pair of looming Houks. Their beady little eyes glared at [member="Tyrian"] as they passed on and into the antechamber. The gates closed behind them with an ominous thud. In here, the incessant chirping of insects and buzzing of swamp mites was replaced with the faint sound of a jatz band, growing louder the closer they drew to another set of doors.

The Klatooinian stopped just in front of the doors, adjusted his red scarf nervously, then pushed them open. The roaring instruments of jatzwailers rolled over them, along with a fog of cigarra smoke and heady pheromones. Gorba's throne room was alive with sights and sounds. Essentially, everything was present from what one might expect of a Hutt: spice users whacked out in the corners of the room; dancers flaunting about in the middle; the band of Bith off to one side; Nikto and Vodran guards scattered here and there; and the massive slug laying upon a raised dais, one hand stuffing a frog down his mouth while the other held a hookah pipe.

<Great Gorba,> Brutus barked over the noise in Huttese, <I bring you Chyrian Allara.>

The Hutt's one good eye swiveled to examine Tyrian. He waved a hand. The festivities stopped.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

"Great Gorba." Tyrian began as he took a deep bow. "I thank you for welcoming me today."

The Soldier was absolutely no stranger to sucking up. He'd worked with Sith for the past three years, Purebloods no less. He knew that some species in this galaxy simply needed to hear how great and wonderful they were before they could even consider hearing any sort of proposal.

Hutt's were one of those species.

It was a fact that pretty much every single person in the galaxy knew, and Tyrian honestly didn't mind it. The great slugs disgusted him on a metaphysical level, but that didn't mean he couldn't put that aside for the greater good. He was here to get weapons, weapons that he needed if he would rise to his proper place within the Empire. His lips thinned for a moment, his back slowly straightening as he looked at the Hutt. Briefly he wondered how many the creature had killed to reach his current place.

They were a combative race. "I have come with a proposal that I hope you may find beneficial."

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Nictating membranes slid across the Hutt's eye in a slow blink, then Gorba waved a dismissive hand.

"Mee jewz ku ateema," ​he rumbled.

Dutifully, the Bith jatzwailers filed out, along with a good chunk of the courtiers. Several dancers stayed, however, slinky beings wearing not too much of anything. They sidled close to Tyrian, attempting to hang off him and be distracting in general, to say nothing of the pheromones.

A Hutt tactic that tended to make those on the other side of the negotiation table more... compliant.

"Chobaso. Hi chuba da bargon?"

Brutus translated. "The great Gorba bidsh you welcome and ashksh what deal you propose."

[member="Tyrian"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

It was a nice gesture, but it wouldn't work. The mask that he wore upon his face was sealed to vacuum and in general his...tastes didn't lie with dancers and slave girls.

"Weapons." He answered simply.

His plan included complicated...well no not really complicated, but layers of planning and dealings with the underworld. He already had the Helix Syndicate working for him in part, Raekkar was under his thumb, and after the Hutt he would be heading towards mid-rim for some Pirates. Everything was slowly coming together, he just needed this slug to give him what he wanted and things would continue to fall into place.

"Blasters, explosives, disruptors." He would need them all."There are several organization whom I would like to supply."

All of whom were clamoring for support. "I wish to purchase them through you."

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Gorba rubbed his belly thoughtfully. An intermediary? Yes, that could work. Purchase and shipment of military-grade ordnance from Czerka or BlasTech to this Chyrian would be doable. Gorba didn't care what he used them for, so long as the use didn't harm his business. What with the lull in the kajidic skirmish due to his alliance with the Shell Hutts against Vermilic he could afford to expand outward.

His tongue lolled out and traced the scar on his lips, then he shrugged with a blink.

"Grancha. Dohonocha ateema. Mwa droida bunno bunna droida."

"The Mighty Gorba shaysh thish ish acceptable, but you musht pay twenty percent up front. We can work out the shmaller detailsh later."

[member="Tyrian"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

He perked an eyebrow for a few seconds, an action that was thankfully hidden behind his mask.

Twenty percent of what exactly? They hadn't even discussed how many weapons he would be purchasing, nor did they really talk about what kind he could get through them. It was something Tyrian took note of immediately, mostly because it spoke to the Hutt's greed. Such a thing wasn't really a surprise, mostly because of who Hutts were in the first place. "Very well."

Money was of little concern to him.

When the Resurgent Empire had fallen Yidhra had ransacked much of the treasury, taking with her a vast hoard of Aurodium, famed artworks, and simple credits. The woman had been smart enough not just to steal an army, but also the means to supply it. The thought was a small comfort really given that she was a cold hearted Pureblood who would execute him at the drop of a hat, but at the very least she was giving him the resources he required.

"We will need to discuss amounts." He stated. "And what I'm getting."

He didn't need top quality, just good enough to work. These weapons weren't for him after all.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Too-wide lips closed around the stem of the pipe and took in a lungful. Gorba puffed out a cloud from the edge of his mouth, eye narrowing. He could speak basic. He simply found it horribly crass. Further conversation would necessitate the use of it, so he gestured to Brutus with another dismissive hand wave.

The Hutt's majordomo inclined his head slightly, then gestured to a droid. "Record thish." He looked at Tyrian. "We can shupply you with Tenlossh DXR dishruptorsh and L70 acid projectorsh, Merr-Shonn Munitionsh PLX launchersh, flame carbinesh, flame cannonsh, mobile mortarsh, and E-Websh, of course. Along with conventional armsh."

Flame cannons and the acid projectors were more exotic weaponry and not necessarily the most practical. But shoulder mounted PLX launchers? Mobile mortars? E-webs? Equip a few dozen desperate militia with those and they could be very dangerous indeed.

"What did you have in mind?"

[member="Tyrian"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

"All of them." Tyrian stated simply.

That kind of weaponry was enough for a whole army, but Tyrian didn't plan on giving it to just one group. He needed to disseminate those weapons to a dozen different worlds, to rebels, terrorists, and revolutionary cells. He needed to sow chaos.

"As much as you can securely move." That would of course come with quite a price tag, but that was to be expected. In order for his plans to work he would need to spend an extraordinary amount of money, so much that it might as well have gone to bribes or other things. Yet he knew that this would work. "Without the source being known."

It didn't really matter to him all that much if people learned his name, after all he was no one.

His concern was more people would learn all these weapons were filtering to different groups because of the same person. That would make people sit up and pay attention. One person supplying all these arms to different groups was an agenda.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Where others might have smirked and made obscene promises, Brutus frowned in thought. He might not have been the most shrewd bargainer within the Bareesh, but he was as honest as they came, which was why Gorba valued him.

"I'm not shure that'sh posshible with the kind of shcale you are asking for," he chewed on a lip, then shrugged, "but the shame ish true for any armsh traffickersh. We have Rodian contactsh who will be moving your shupplies."

Brutus squinted at the masked human. "Thish won't be cheap... Anonymity will cosht you extra. One million for anonymity. Three million for the shipmentsh. That'sh a firsht time dishcount."

[member="Tyrian"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

"The money won't be an issue." They had ransacked an entire nation state for their treasury. The Resurgent Empire had been a flash in the pan, but it had been a very, very efficient flash. They had plundered trillions of credits from the worlds they had taken and conquered. The Empire had ensured that they'd gotten their share of wealth. It had all been intended to serve a war effort of course. The Purebloods in charge had wanted to conquer the galaxy, and to do so they needed money.

Now that money was being used for another purpose.

He wondered how furious they would have been if they knew, but most of them were now dead. A small smile touched his lips, amusement at the thought of how superior those Purebloods had once felt. Tyrian refocused a moment later, regarding the Hutt and his underlings. "I require the shipments soon."

The Soldier spoke matter of fact.

"Thirteen groups." From his pocket he pulled a small data-chit. "They are the ones who require the supplies, equally split of course."