Faction [HUT & Allies] THE SLUGS STRIKE BACK - Cartel Operations on Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta.

[Whottoomuzz Chantin]

THE SLUGS STRIKE BACK

"Pateesa vota, banka mo gootu way
Moulee-rah flows, an nebuli da play
Da blastoh sings, tonka een da night
Hodrudda comes, jee-jee bokka fight"
'Bokka Fight', Sleemo

For too long, the Empires’ expansions have squeezed the life out of Hutt space — and now the Cartel’s patience has finally run out. With two Empires stalled, the time has come to take back what’s ours. No more rivals leeching off our profits. No more pretenders claiming our territory. From the neon-drenched spires of Nar Shaddaa to the swamps of Nal Hutta, the Hutt Cartel rises - wielding greed and blackmail as weapons of war.

This isn’t just business. This is about respect. We’re gonna teach these sleemo why the Cartel isn’t to be trifled with. The first lesson in our resurgence? It’s coming for the Nazz Consortium.

They crept in like scavengers when the Empire kept us distracted. Now they think they own a piece of our turf. Their spice operations clog our shipping lanes, their enforcers bully our clients, and their leaders dare to challenge the authority of the Cartel.

It’s time to show them what happens when you bite the hand that feeds the underworld - and earn yourself a tidy sum of credits along the way.

OBJECTIVE 1: Teach Them a Lesson They Won’t Forget ​

Location: Nar Shaddaa
The Nazz Consortium thinks they’re untouchable, running their spice-smuggling operation out of our moon. They’ve built a cozy little operation: a fortified starport, heavily guarded warehouses, and corporate offices laundering dirty credits. But their days of easy profits end now.

• Smugglers: Sneak mercenaries and supplies in or get contraband out before the fighting starts. Make sure our interests stay well-fed.
• Pirates: Set up a blockade around their starport. No ships leave unless we say so. If they try to run, make an example of them.
• Slicers: Crack into their security systems and face off against their counter-slicers. Cut their communications, disable their defenses, and make sure their cries for help never reach the Empire’s ears.
• Mercenaries & Bounty Hunters: Time to get your hands dirty. Take the fight to their muscle — make them bleed, break their spirit, and leave no doubt who rules Nar Shaddaa. Dead or alive, their enforcers are ours.

OBJECTIVE 2: Make Them an Offer They Can’t Refuse ​

Location: Nal Hutta
While blasters light up Nar Shaddaa, the real game plays out in the shadows of Nal Hutta. The Nazz Consortium’s leadership knows they’re losing ground — and some of them are smart enough to see what’s coming. They’ll either kneel… or they’ll burn.

• Crime Lords: Meet with the Consortium's leaders. Intimidate, bribe, or charm your way into their submission. Offer them a choice — servitude under the Cartel, or oblivion.
• Enforcers: Keep things civil… or make them messy. Interrogate prisoners, silence snitches, and make sure no one interferes with the Cartel's will.
• Council Members: Debate the fate of the Nazz Consortium. Are these rivals worth absorbing into our empire — or do they serve as a better example, crushed under our heel? Cast your votes. Their future rests with you.

OBJECTIVE 3: Spin a Web ​

Holonews Networks, Holonet
The galaxy's watching — and the Cartel controls the narrative. As we strike, the Holonews broadcasts our message. Whether we paint ourselves as liberators, businesspeople, or conquerors… the Cartel decides how this story is told.

• Charlatans & Propagandists: Shape public perception. Turn the Consortium into villains and the Cartel into the rightful rulers reclaiming what's ours. Or… make sure everyone knows we're the most dangerous power in the underworld.
• Spokespeople: Give statements that sway public opinion, threaten rival syndicates, and remind everyone why the Cartel's reach is absolute.
• Cover-Up Artists: Bury the bodies and silence the witnesses on and off the net. The Cartel keeps its hands clean — no matter how dirty the work gets.

The Cartel is calling. Step up, make your credits, and carve your name into Hutt history.​

Spoiler: OOC

DM if non-criminal affiliate interested in participating!
Everyone else: Pick an objective, get creative, and let’s tell one hell of a story. Let the backstabbing, blaster fire, and backroom deals begin!

​

 

[Athriel]

Objective 1
Subjective: Mercenaries & Bounty Hunters
Tags: [OPEN]
Akk Dogs Swoop Gang Forces

Spoiler

15/15 Swoop Gangers
4/4 Akk Dog war-beasts

---

Athriel rested his forearms on the handle bars of his swoop bike with his eyes trained on the heavily fortified starport that the Nazz Consortium had laid claim to. The engines of the swoops behind him gave off consistent low rumbles as their riders conversed anxiously between one another, on the back of four of the swoops were respulsor lift cages that held the gang's trained attack Akk Dogs. These were a breed sourced from the surface of Nal Hutta, green and muscular with a foul temper.

After a few more moments of watching the starport with no action, Athriel looked down to the chrono on his wrist then looking up he put a detached blaster scope up to his eye as if it were a spyglass. A series of explosions shook the front of the starport as probe droids with detonator charges terminated at the front entry "Show time." Athriel grinned and put the scope away in his saddle bag while revving his swoop's engine twice "Bombs popped - lets do this!"

Following Athriel's charge the rest of the swoops followed closely behind him, weaving through the obstacles of Nar Shaddaa's streets as they hovered just a few meters above the surface with raucous cheers as they closed on the starport at blistering speeds. The entrance of which was still clouded in dust from the grenade harboring probe droids. By the time the gang met any resistance from the Consortium's enforcers the Akk Dogs had already made it to the entry way with multiple of the gangers shooting from their swoops to suppress the defenders while others came to a stop and dismounted quickly to find their own cover. The attack beast Akk Dogs growled and pressed against their cages at the sound of battle.

Athriel for his part was taking cover behind his swoop bike which had a durasteel sheet attacked to one side, it wasn't much but it'd protect the swoop and (more importantly) the Sephi from the small arms that were being brought to bear against him. Athriel peaked over the edge of his swoop as the battle continued, with agility he stood and took a well placed shot at one of the enforcers. The enforcer who was struck by the blaster bolt from Athriel's pistol fell backward into the jagged, blown-out, wall of the Starport "C'mon guys! Push up or we're kriffed!" the last thing he wanted was to be bogged down in the open with little-to-no cover.

Of course the Akk Dogs wouldn't have attacked the Nazz Consortium's port alone so Athriel and the Akk Dogs were depending on some form of reinforcement to take the plunge.

---

Summary

Spoiler

Sacrificial probe droids explode outside of the star port, widening the entrance and giving the Akk Dog's swoop gang the opprotunity to close in and contest the entry way. Athriel & the Akk Dogs are currently engaged by the Nazz Constorium's enforcers at the entry.

 

[Xoff Chantin]

Objective: 3
Outfit: Something Nice

Spoiler: Loadout

• Vixen's Vault
• FFS Utility Belt
• Beauty Blades
• Bond-Lock Pomade
• ClearView Essence: Perfume
• Code Breaker Card
• Covert Compact
• Covert Kiss: Laser Lipstick
• Covert PurseGlow Guard
• HushCuffs
• Nite Night Nails: Polish
• Phantom FreshProcessor
• PendantRe-Pulse Ring
• SlyTie
• Vixen's Vambrace

The Holoscreen flickered away from typical broadcast schedule to a rogue signal - a broadcast live from an unfurnished room in an undisclosed location on Nar Shaddaa.

A pink Zeltron with vibrant yellow eyes came into focus, hazy for a moment as the hologram adjusted. The slim figure was clad in black leather and fishnets, hair pinned up elaborate albeit utilitarian style. Covering the face of the androgynous Xoff Chantin was a Porcelain Mask; in his hand, a Vibroaxe fit for a Gamorrean. It was nearly as large as he was.

As the figure stepped aside, a chair was revealed with a bloodied captive tied within. A captain of the Nazz Consortium. A relative of Nazz himself. An example.

The captive had a sign hanging from their bruised face - in Huttese script it read:
<<I've been naughty while the adults were away>>.

White sheets lined the durasteel floors and ferrocrete walls - a canvas for a crimson display.

"Hell~o Kings and Queens and everything in betweens of Nar Shaddaa and the greater Hutt Space area!"

The nubile Zeltron waved with an enthusiastic curtsy, leaning on the axe as if it were an walking staff.

"Today we have a special public service announcement of what happens when you get into business you don't belong - with our special guest here, Jowei Nazz! "

The helpless captive looked pleadingly at the holoprojector. The Zeltron posed over him whilst making a heart symbol with his hands.

"First, you make sure your implements are nice and sharp" Xoff said, hefting the Vibroaxe and activating the buzzing weapon, raising it overhead.

"And then~" the Zeltron grunted from the effort, "whew this is heavy! Jowei, how about you lend me a hand?"

—​

The axe came down.

The hand followed.

The broadcast continued.

DEVILMAN​

 

[Jakharl]

Objective 1
Subjective: Mercenaries & Bounty Hunters
Tags: [OPEN]
Equipment: His Body

Jakharl found it a rare treat that someone actually managed to impress him, but the trick with the swarm of grenade-carrying probe droids was downright inspired. Of course he'd rather rip his own spine out than pay someone else a compliment, but he could still quietly enjoy the sight of Nazz thugs and terrified staff running and screaming through the flames. The Gank specialized in this kind of enforcement work, whenever the livestock got a little too uppity, they sent in the monster.

Being small and solo he was able to post up on the roof closer to Nazz shipyard and get a better lay of the land. The initial blast took out the physical perimeter defenses, the speeder barriers and gates, but thankfully most of the guards weren't in the blast radius, and that meant more meat to butcher for him. He waited (im)patiently for the swoop gang to make their move, hitting the front of the port and getting the guards' attention before he launched into the fray, literally. He dug his claws into the duracrete and hurled himself down the side of the building, using magnetic grip to race down the fire escape like a prowling Nexu.

When he hit the ground he ran at full sprint into the battle, wrist-blaster spraying at full auto and flechette rocket screaming into a cluster of guards holed up near the half destroyed gatehouse. Small arms were useless against Jakharl's speed and armor, but they'd likely bring up the heavy stuff soon, they all needed to press the attack and keep it pressed if they wanted to hold the advantage.

Xoff Chantin Athriel Whottoomuzz Chantin

 

[Tork Lok]

OBJECTIVE 2: Make Them an Offer They Can't Refuse - Crime Lords
Location: Nal Hutta

The room was well lit with a round table situated in the middle of a basement. A basement usually used to store rations and other items not deemed as important for a real storehouse. Just like the three men sat at the table. Each one had one deputy they brought only, assumingly their number two.

Each one of the bastards was tattooed and scarred from their time within the underworld. Each ran their respective divisions within the Nazz Consortium. Each was a Crime Lord themselves. Each probably related. But Tork cared little. They would submit all the same. For few defied the request of the Mando known as The Vang.

The loud thud of beskar boots sounded as Tork Lok walked into the room. His helmet was held under his left arm as he scanned the room. Judging the men before him as inferior. And certainly not hiding the fact. Four of his Mandalorian warriors spread out at the corners of the room and then remained as still as statues, hands on their weapons and waiting for a reason to draw.

While the Hutt Council debated the fates of the Consortium as a whole, Tork was tasked with meeting their so called leaders and seeing who among them was smart enough to do business. Even while their captains were being put to the torch back on Nar Shaddaa by the Cartels enforcers.

A notification from his vambrace signaled the start of this evenings festivities.

Tork approached the table of men and activated his holoprojector. Right away, the face of Xoff Chantin appeared and his exciting and riveting broadcast set the tone immediately. Tork smirked as he watched the anger appear on the faces of the men before him.

"Tha-that was my fucking nephew! You fucking bantha-" One of the Crime Lords quickly sat up in horrid anger and lowered his hand to his sidearm.

A split second later he was falling backward over his chair with smoke trailing from a large hole in his chest. Tork spun his blaster in a move of practiced finesse before holstering it back onto his thigh. Few were quicker than a Mandalorian.

Tork stepped over his fallen holoprojecter and gestured to the deputy behind the dead man.

"You. Have a seat, seems you will be speaking for your crew now." The deep and gruff voice bellowed within the now quiet room. He figured between he and Xoff they had made their point. Whatever the Council decided upstairs would ultimately decide their fates and the fates of what remained of their operations. Didn't mean he couldn't have his fun though.

Tork sat down into his own chair and placed his helmet onto the table next to him. He then leaned the chair back and loudly placed his beskar greaves onto the table and ran a gloved hand through his hair.

"Now then, with the introductions out of the way...who here wants to know their future?" Tork smirked.

Whottoomuzz Chantin Athriel Xoff Chantin Jakharl​

 

[Rugal Bardiche]

OBJECTIVE 1
NAR SHADDAA​

---

The life of a bounty hunter was one of ever-shifting allegiances. Your employer one day might be your target the next. The Nazz Consortium had hired Rugal's services before. Now, he was working for the Hutts. And the Hutts said it was it was time to kick the Nazz out the only way they'd learn: by force. They wouldn't take it personally, if there's any still left by the end of the day. They'd hire Rugal tomorrow if they needed to.

After all, for a bounty hunter, it was just business.

The mission today was about making an example more than it was a hunt. Any and all Nazz enforcers were on the chopping block. So Rugal took the opportunity to cut loose. The niceties were irrelevant. This was a numbers game. And efficiency was the name of that game.

A few sleemos were camped out in a shot up diner, long abandoned by its staff who had no skin in the game save a desire to live another day. They probably smelled this coming a few days ago and hunkered down before the squatters even commandeered the place. Gang wars were basically Narsh's equivalent to a lively debate in the Alliance Senate.

Rugal didn't even have to use his jetpack to get the drop on these particular thugs. He simply walked in through the back entrance. A couple of them were eating stale food at one of the tables. One was playing a card game by himself. All of them seemed surprised with the shiny metal head of Rugal Bardiche casually stepped through the swinging staff door. There was a tense silence, then a trio of shots, followed by a decidedly less tense silence.

Rugal exited through the front door, slotting his blaster back into its holster and leaving the smoking corpses of his latest quarry behind.

 

[Athriel]

Objective 1
Subjective: Mercenaries & Bounty Hunters
Tags: Jakharl
Akk Dogs Swoop Gang Forces

Spoiler

12/15 Swoop Gangers
4/4 Akk Dog war-beasts

---

When the strange looking cyborg (at least from Athriel's perspective) made his entry into the fray the Sephi looked stunned as he took cover behind the his swoop bike "Is that on our side?" he asked while looking to one of the other swoop bikers, most of them were too busy continuing to fight to respond but a pair of them shrugged their shoulders at a loss "Well at least it isn't shooting us, right?" Athriel reasoned.

At least for now it was a friendly

Athriel deftly vaulted over his swoop bike and rushed towards the entry way in the wake of the cyborg "Lets go!" he encouraged his crew who quickly followed his example and rushed the entry with their own weaponry brandished. Within mere moments the entry way of the Star Port was in the technical control of the Hutt Cartel. A pair of the bikers sat back to guard the beast cages and the gang's swoops while the rest of the thirteen entered the building.

Within the battle was far from over. As soon as the Akk Dogs and the Cyborg made their way inside they were met by even more enforcers who had taken advantageous positions at the top of concurse catwalks and behind reception terminals. Within short order three Akk Dog fighters were sent to the great highway in the sky by the suppressive blaster fire. Athriel ducked behind a decorative planter that projected a holographic tree.

---

Summary

Spoiler

Athriel and 13 Akk Dog swoop bikers enter the Nazz Consortium star port proper behind Jakharl . Three of the thirteen of the Akk Dogs are cut down by the Enforcers of the Nazz Consortium who have taken the homefield advantage in both preparation time and the high ground.

 

[Xoff Chantin]

Objective: 3
Outfit: Something Nice

Spoiler: Loadout

• Vixen's Vault
• FFS Utility Belt
• Beauty Blades
• Bond-Lock Pomade
• ClearView Essence: Perfume
• Code Breaker Card
• Covert Compact
• Covert Kiss: Laser Lipstick
• Covert PurseGlow Guard
• HushCuffs
• Nite Night Nails: Polish
• Phantom FreshProcessor
• PendantRe-Pulse Ring
• SlyTie
• Vixen's Vambrace

The room in the broadcast was painted scarlet and crimson, the porcelain mask of Xoff adorned with the splatter—pattern from the latest decorative sculpting of Jowei Nazz.

Unfortunately, the last stimms had been used and Jowei wouldn't be able to see the results of the artwork firsthand.

"Hope the Nazz boys got a good look!" The Zeltron said with another grisly-cutesy pose. "We'll be back with another surprise special guest after a brief word from your sponsors~"

Xoff turned off the holoprojector - the feed broadcast out on the Networks and billboards cut off as suddenly as it started.

"Ugh, kriffing mess. The things I do for art, eh Jowei?." Xoff said in an abruptly disgusted tone, pulling off the mask and kicking aside a chunk of meat.

More important than the scheduled intimidation was the motion sensors tripping and alarm. Someone had breached the abandoned building he had set up and he hadn't heard from his patrols yet.

Suffice it to say, someone picked a bad time to mess with Xoff. Ditching the Vibroaxe with its clumsy weight, Xoff checked that his Re-Pulse Rings were still functional with a frustrated punch breaking a chunk out of a ferrocrete pillar.

"Alright, little mouse! You want to dance? Come find out exactly what kind of partner you've chosen!"

Silver linings, Xoff - this interloper could be special guest number 3

Xoff spat and cracked his knuckles before putting the porcelain mask back on, stalking into the dark hallways of the abandoned building.

Blood was so hard to wash out of hair if it had time to dry.

DEVILMAN​

 

[Makar Clyne]

Objective 2: Nal Hutta "Make them an offer they can't refuse"

The small courier ship screamed it's way into the atmosphere, leaving a blood red wound across the sky as it headed to it's destination. The local spaceport would be the first port of call, there the members of the Nazz Consortium would escort Makar to their rendezvous point. How anyone could stand the horrid stink of this world was anyone's guess. It was a festering swamp as far as he was concerned, but one that fairly well oozed credits. If there was any glory to be had in such a galactic backwater, he would find it.

Makar sat in back of the transport, a stone-faced expression was all his guards would get. He was not in the mood for their games, he was here on business. There was talk that the Hutts wanted to take this world, and he wanted a piece of the action. Whether that meant gaining the trust of the Nazz Consortium, or by slaughtering them for the Hutts, he could see no downside here! As they neared the destination, Makar's lips cracked into a smile, finally he would meet with the men who controlled this pustule of a planet.

There was only one more caveat before entering the hideout that the men had picked, he would have to relinquish his weaponry. Fear was palpable in the room as the men came to take the halberd away from him. He just gave a chuckle and tossed the heavy weapon to one of the guards.

"Men armed with blasters afraid of one man with a spear? I'll be sure to tell your employer that he has hired a group of cowards," Makar said as he leaned in closer to the men. "Now that our business has concluded, I'll see myself in!"

He was sure the guards were no threat, they were just some brainless hired muscle, probably just kids off the street. So long as they knew their place, it would be no trouble. Once inside the hideout, he saw a holoprojector playing a scene of some rather profound ultraviolence, fitting for such a scene, but possibly not what the men here wanted to see. From the basement he heard sounds of a scuffle, and many voices shouting at once. He'd arrived late.

Now he'd just have to see what was going on!

"Seems I'm late to this meeting, my apologies..."

Tork Lok

 

[Whottoomuzz Chantin]

OBJECTIVE 2
​

Spoiler: The Deathmark Collectors Roster

1. Krexar: A Nikto sharpshooter with a penchant for poisons, his leathery skin bearing the scars of countless battles.

2. Gorruk: A towering Gamorrean enforcer, wielding a massive vibro-axe, his brute strength matched only by his loyalty to the Cartel.

3. Sskeer: A Trandoshan tracker, his cold, reptilian eyes always calculating, known for his expertise in hand-to-hand combat.

4. Vexla: A Rodian explosives expert, her green skin often camouflaged in urban environments, with a mischievous glint in her multifaceted eyes.

5. Durok: A Duros pilot and tech specialist, his smooth blue skin and red eyes concealing a mind adept at slicing and infiltration.

6. Nymara: A Nautolan seductress and intelligence gatherer, her head-tails often adorned with jeweled ornaments, using charm to extract secrets.

7. Kholak: A Kaleesh warrior-priest, his face concealed behind a traditional bone mask, blending spirituality with deadly precision.

8. Zarin: A Nagai swordsman, his pale skin and jet-black hair giving him a ghostly appearance, his vibroblade an extension of his will.

9. Threx: A burly Weequay brawler, his weathered skin and topknot marking him as a veteran of many skirmishes.

10. Lorra: A lithe Twi'lek acrobat and thief, her blue lekku often wrapped around her neck, skilled in stealth and infiltration.

11. Mordo: A hulking Houk bruiser, his thick hide making him a formidable opponent in close quarters.

12. Siv: A sly Devaronian con artist, his red skin and sharp horns often hidden beneath a hood, adept at deception and disguise.

"Now then, with the introductions out of the way...who here wants to know their future?"

The silence of the Nazz representatives was satisfying. The sight alone was worth the trip back to the ancestral, homeworld birthplace of the Hutts, Nal Hutta itself - a slime-slickened holy swamp for the generations of wealth-hoarders and warlords that formed Whottoomuzz's ancestors.

That such a presence had been allowed to linger this long was almost sacrilegious, but the Chantin Kadijic had not clawed into the grand council by being wasteful, nor by being blinded with rage. Pragmatism and careful application of overwhelming violence were key. A horde of cheap blasters and Vibroblade wielded like a scalpel.

"We'll be back with another surprise special guest after a brief word from your sponsors~"

The projection shut off and the Hutt returned to the far end of the table there the display once was. Tork Lok was making a fine show of negotiations, and Whottoomuzz did not want to interrupt, instead evaluating performance and reaction of the remaining Nazz leadership. They were stirred to anger, fear, and much more.

The assault on the moon's starport was going well, from the biometric readings of Jakharl - excited, but not fully engaged to the point of having a satisfying threat it seemed - boded well for the operation, though Whottoomuzz may need to offer a bonus to satisfy the lack of stern enough opposition to entertain the Gank. Officially, it would be a bonus for 'efficient performance', though hope remained that some trick inside their offices might be entertainment enough.

<<Ship incoming - pirates, looks like they may have been Nazz affiliated.>> Skeer, the Trandoshan on watch warned on Comms.

<<Peeta hoohah bolla, nobata need stuka uba. Peeta da Nazz gardo tinka dey still pawa.>> Whottoomuzz replied, flipping the communicator shut and preparing the room with expectation for the Pirate's arrival.

A seat was pulled open, and a serva t with refreshments awaited just before the door opened, admitting the starship's Admiral.

"Seems I'm late to this meeting, my apologies..."

"Chowbasa, peeta koga."
The Hutt spoke, motioning to the open seat.

The pirate and their network was probably more important to the Nazz's Operations than the Consortium leadership themselves were. With the starport falling under his control and their spacebound contact revealing themselves, any leverage the Nazz had was dissipating by the moment.

With another wave of his hand, Whottoomuzz motioned for his enforcers to continue now that the interruptions were complete.

The reveal once the starport was taken would be the sweetest taste.

Tork Lok | Makar Clyne​

 

[DEVILMAN]

Nal Hutta – Nar Shaddaa – Undisclosed Location
Objective 3
Direct: Xoff Chantin | OPEN || Indirect: Whottoomuzz Chantin | OPEN
NPC(s): Sage
Vehicles Devilmobile​

A gang war erupted on the streets of Nar Shaddaa. A powder keg that exploded and caught all in its crossfire. The Nazz Consortium and the Hutt Cartel were at each other throats. Each side playing for keeps, for total control over the moon of Nar Shaddaa. No one could turn the tide. No one could stop the bloodshed. There were not enough good people to stop the violence.

Tonight, the city relied on a singular force to save them—vengeance.

Racing across the planet's smog-ridden skyline, the Devilmobile roared as its thrusters ignited—propelling the vehicle forward as he answered the next call. He needed to locate the crime lords of both factions and force them to call the war off. His informants . Someone would know where they were. Someone always knew. All it took was pressing on the right weaknesses, the right bones, until someone cracked and broke under the pressure.

But nobody knew anything. No one important on the streets. Only the foot soldiers and their firefights across the streets and rooftops of Nar Shaddaa were present tonight.

Grasping with his claws the leg of one such crook upside down over the edge of the warehouse rooftop, the Living Nightmare's voice roared with rage before becoming a far more cold and measured tone. Bodies piled up behind him. He had torn this entire warehouse, both side of the conflict apart, with his bare hands. One of many tonight. Not enough.

Never enough.

"Start talking! WHERE IS YOUR BOSS?!" the Demon's grip loosened for a moment and the crook's eyes widened as he began to slide along and closer to the ground before coming to a stop as the Fiend's grip reasserted itself on the limb.

The screams and panic followed.

"I don't know! I SWEAR! They don't tell us anything! Please, you have to believe me!" the man blubbered out rapidly, crying with tears and snot as the wind buffeted him from all sides and swayed the weight of his body left and right.

With only the Walking Shadow's arm keeping him in place. And alive.

" . . . I believe you."

With inhuman strength, the Fiend lifted the limb up and over his shoulder before tossing the lowlife back onto the rooftop. The leg's ligaments snapped under the sudden speed and strain, forcing the man to cry out before landing on the cold concrete and durasteel as the Face of Evil stared down at his pain with cold, cruel eyes.

Glowing white in the darkness, peering as a predator allowing his quarry to live another day. The demonic gaze staring at the injured man before hearing the sound of sirens. Leaping off the rooftop, the Demon disappeared into the darkness below. Falling and landing inside of his waiting Devilmobile, the Living Nightmare took off once more.

["Any status updates, Sage?"] the Fiend activated the comms systems.

An older but encrypted voice reported back, ["There's still fighting in sector 2D. It's escalating but contained for now. However, I think there's something you need to see, sir."]

One of the holoprojectors and screens flickered to life inside the vehicle. A rogue feed had taken over the holonews. Under the cowl, the Detective narrowed his eyes as he studied the footage. Jowei Nazz. A captain within the Nazz Consortium and a relative of Nazz himself. The perfect lead to help him find at least one of the ringleaders of this gang war. And a victim of the latest masked psychotic making a name for their self.

["Track where the broadcast is coming from,"] the Fiend ordered.

["I'm trying, sir, but it will take time,"] Sage's voice became much more solemn, ["I don't think we'll make it in time."]

The Demon scowled before his airspeeder rocketed away into the night sky.

——————————————————————————————​

A measure of luck had been involved. The encryption behind the broadcast had been broken. Quickly enough to find the location before the broadcast had been cut, but not soon enough to prevent the loss of life. Jowei Nazz was dead. And there was nothing the Demon could do to change that. But he could stop this masked psychopath from murdering another life in cold blood for everyone to see.

And once the Fiend found the information he needed from the second captive, he would hunt down those responsible for the deaths of countless lives today. The Hutt Cartel and the Nazz Consortium would no longer be safe. Not from him. Not from his wrath.

From within the darkness, the clawed hands of the Walking Shadow wrapped around the neck of last of the guards before the Proto-Predator pulled him into the darkness, screaming and yelling before complete and utter silence filled the entire building. Bodies strung up or slumped over in various areas behind him. Bodies hanging from the ceiling or even thrown through the outer walls and unconscious in the humid and smog-filled air outside. His visors detecting motion sensors that he had tripped, purposefully.

Good.

He wanted them to know he was coming. To live in haunting fear. To not know where or when he might strike next. All the various patrols and men had been removed from the board. All that left was the man in the porcelain mask. Right now, the Zeltron was brave. The Zeltron did not know who pursued him. Who hunted him.

But the Detective knew who he was hunting. He heard it in the man's voice now and saw him more clearly now than before. There was less shock and more so a certain measure of hindsight and knowing. The pieces all added up together. Xoff Chantin was involved with the Cartel. The spouse of Whottoomuzz Chantin. The leader of one of the most powerful Hutt families: Chantin Kajidic. Xoff had simply been the charmer, the eye-candy, the distraction. Able to twist others around their fingers for the Cartel. But the Face of Evil now saw the man for who he truly was.

A killer, like his spouse and the rest of the Cartel. Sick and twisted. And more dangerous than he had initial predicted. But it would not enough to stop him, to harm. Nothing harms him. His visor peered at the murderer through the walls and windows and through every hiding spot, scanning and finding the repulsor rings as Xoff's armaments . There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Briefly, Xoff Chantin's line of sight would spot a shadow crossing across one of the walls. Its silhouette imposing with horns rising from the cowl. But the sihouette was nothing more than that. A shadow. Distorted and larger than Xoff before it moved and dissipated into the darkness. Now he knew who was hunting him.

What was hunting him.

The shadows grew larger and closer as each of the running lights began to fade and flicker out one by one. Finding and cutting the wiring a simple task, especially in a building this old. Then, out the same shadows from a completely different direction to further disorient Xoff's sense of linear space, a single devil-shaped shuriken spawned and struck against the porcelain mask with significant force. The Living Nightmare wanted to see the fear in the Zeltron's eyes. If the Zeltron fired blindly into the darkness, his repulsors would hit nothing but air and durasteel.

The Demon had been trained too well for those tactics. He could spot the Zeltron's angle and direction of fire before he even got a shot off due to his multi-lensed visor, able to perceive everything within a near 360 degree angle. His posture and physicality allowed him to blend in perfectly with the surroundings along with his vantablack suit. The only sounds the Zeltron would hear were those the Walking Shadow created as distractions. The rolling of a metal pipe. The fall of stone. Glass crunching underneath a footfall.

A shiver would run down the Zeltron's spine. Xoff's instincts sensing something was wrong. A small sound or perhaps a movement. Something alerting him to the presence of another in the same hallway, the same room, with him.

And if he chose to slowly look up, a pair of soulless eyes peered back from the roof. Claws embedded into the ceiling as the Demon slowly breathed and studied Xoff. Not moving a single muscle fiber as it continued to stare, peering from its perch. The scarlet demonic symbol on its chest the only other visible phenomenon besides its horns as it nearly perfectly blended in with the darkness above.

It waited for Xoff to make a move. Any move.

It would be his last before the Face of Evil itself descended upon with hellish wings sprouting from its back.

 

[Xazzex Xivar]

Objective I
Undisclosed Location
​

The Cartels. Most in the galaxy found them to be a blight. A nuisance. Something to be wiped from the face of the galaxy in order to restore peace or order -- or out of simple aesthetic revulsion at the Hutts themselves. The latter Xazzex could not fully appreciate, but as for their renown as criminals with enduring enclaves of such, she understood. Piracy and illicit gains were a part of living and breathing as far as both their people were concerned. Not out of a desire to rebel against what was concerned appropriate or acceptable, but because they could. Most people seemed to think Civilization was built on the concept of helping one another, and that only in doing so could society thrive. The Hutts and Falleen, however, had discovered how to do exactly the opposite and rise to the same heights others thought only possible through obeying galactic law.

Of course, certain crimes still violated Confederate Law, so openly embracing the Cartels would still provide politically challenging. Fortunately, Xazzex had been the Crown of the Leviathan Ring, Empress of Falleen, far longer than she had the Vice-Head of the Confederacy. She already had connections among them -- Zenva Vrotoa for one -- and means to visit whenever she chose. As galactic neighbors, openly or otherwise, why shouldn't their two people forge closer relations? That such things might always be "off the books" hardly mattered. Only acquiring what each wanted mattered, and that Xazzex was confident they could do.

News reached Xazzex of her neighbors regularly. Nar Shaddaa and Nar Hutta were both quite active scenes. There was always something happening, but this particular news caught her attention. Even Confederate Intelligence was aware of movement on the subject, but they wouldn't act as it was outside their sphere; which continued to leave the perfect opportunity for Xazzex to act an her other capacities.

The Nazz Consortium. She knew of them, seeing how Hydra Systems helped facilitate Spice trade in the Southern Systems while posing as a perfectly legitimate corporation. That they'd been foolish enough not to keep the Hutts appeased of their dealings... There might soon be a vaccuum near Nar Shaddaa then one could fill.

But how to reach out to Whottoomuzz Chantin ? No doubt he'd be monitoring the situation personally, which meant any communiques would scarcely be noticed until it was all over -- at which point the opportunity would be lost. Then there was only one thing for the Leviathan Ring to do in these circumstances.

"Track down all of their shipping containers and transports outside of Nar Shaddaa. Capture, or destroy them. Find any suppliers and distributors in the Spice Triangle. Invite them to work for us, or have their names given to the Hutts." Xazzex's figure rippled on the holotransmission to the Noble representatives that comprised the leadership of Leviathan. "I expect reports hourly of our progress."

No doubt Whottoomuzz's people had Nar Shaddaa and the surrounding space secure, but a Consortium had many vessels. Many agents. A little outside assistance might demonstrate Xazzex's "good" intentions in establishing a relationship with the Hutt once the dust settled.

 

[Tork Lok]

OBJECTIVE 2: Make Them an Offer They Can't Refuse - Crime Lords
Location: Nal Hutta

The energy in the room had calmed some but tensions were still high. The Consortium bosses were still on edge given the heavy handed welcome they received from their Cartel compatriots. Though it was a required step in establishing the new situation for them. Tork wanted them to know who was now in charge.

As Whottoomuzz Chantin approached the table and joined the negotiations, Tork smiled. It must not be clear to these bantha brains what was happening. Even for that newly promoted dull looking one. Even while their operations on Nar Shaddaa burned, one thing was now clear to everyone in this room and soon to everyone across the galaxy;

The Hutt Cartel was back. And they were taking no prisoners.

Tork glanced at his boss as he spoke, announcing the arrival of a visitor, as a servant busied with setting out drinks. How thoughtful of the Hutt. Soon the new member of their diplomatic team entered and took their seat. Tork simply watched him and said nothing, offering only a nod. He would investigate this pirate another time.

For now, the Mandalorian Chieftain returned his focus back on the trio of Nazz bosses. Time to return to diplomacy.

"Now that we've all had a brief respite from earlier talks..." Tork smirked at the newly promoted leader. "Let us return to your futures."

"Whotto here..." Tork gestured to the Hutt. "...wants you to know he is very thankful for your past stewardship of his ancestral home. He appreciates your efforts. Truly." Tork removed his feet from the table and instead leaned forward, arms onto the tabletop. "However, his hospitality has its limits. He has decided to reclaim Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa both. Your continued existence relies on how willing you are in hastily moving along the transfer process."

Tork furrowed his brows and stared each of the three men down, letting them know they stood no chance in arguing with him or his Mando warriors behind them.

"Savvy?"

Whottoomuzz Chantin Makar Clyne​

 

["Cobalt"]

Objective 1: Teach them a lesson they won't forget.
Equipment: Cobalt's WSS, Cobalt's Shotgun, Vibroknife
Tags: OPEN

​

Cobalt slid quietly out of a ventilation shaft, before lowering his respirator and sniffing the air. Most of the security was downstairs, it seemed. The corpo drones that ran this charming little front-business were higher up. They were spooked. Word had gotten around that tonight was to be the ultimate in hostile takeovers. The streets were already red with blood, so they weren't wrong to be scared. Unfortunately for them, he was very good at getting into places where he wasn't wanted.

This job was a little outside his wheelhouse, but money was money. The Hutts wanted every able body on this one, and that unfortunately included him. He hated cities, and hated being shot at even worse, so he'd elected to take the delicate approach. Some of the corpo types supposedly had access to some very desirable financial information, information he intended to get from them.

As it turned out, infiltration and scavenging shared a surprising amount of common elements. In either case, being seen was usually undesirable. He'd made his way through the halls, occasionally ascending an elevator shaft or slipping through a maintenance area. Apparently, the Nazz had assumed any interlopers would be taking the front door. He'd not seen much in the way of resistance so far.

He peeked around a corner, narrowing his glowing eyes. Their natural luminescence did occasionally make it hard to sneak around, and there wasn't much to be done about it but avoid any contact at all. Two personnel, end of the hallway. Didn't look like security types.

He considered his options. He didn't much care for killing, but he was very good at it, and found occasion to do it often. In an op like this, though, it was messy. The people here were Hutt property, as much as the merchandise was. They'd fall in line with whoever the big boss was, so dispatching them would be wasteful. Best to use his hands. He rounded the corner brazenly, and was on the two before they could react. He closed the thirty feet or so between them almost immediately.

Cobalt's fist cracked into the nose of the first, sending him sprawling, then wrapped his bicep around the neck of the second. The stranger struggled briefly before the lack of blood hit his brain, and then went limp. Cobalt dropped him and knelt to study the one he'd struck.

The man was alive, but just barely. Sometimes he forgot just how flimsy humanoids were. He'd only meant to put the man out. He frisked them both quickly, finding no weapons. Office jockeys, most likely. Unlucky people in the wrong place at the wrong time, unable to leave because of the chaos outside. No threat, and not particularly worth killing. He grabbed each by the collar, dragging them around the corner and continuing onwards. If this the worst that this particular front could manage, that data would be in Whottoomuzz Chantin 's flabby hands by the end of the night.

​

 

[Dax Harrac]

​

He got hungry- that's what happened. Coruscant went to shit, and he got hungry. And there wasn't a lot of work in Alliance space for him. So he went, and he looked. He fought here and there, but there was something pertinently needed in this part of the galaxy:

Killers.

Not fighters, not warriors, not honor-bound nomads, no- killers. And he was good at that. Prior to his incarceration, he was a decorated veteran. He was effective, he was ruthless, he was efficient. Things that Hutt cartels couldn't ignore, didn't want to pass up. Besides, it was shithead-on-shithead violence. No moral ambiguity in it. They sent him in with a simple mission: take the warehouses, take the street-level dealers down too. Not just their suppliers, not just their head honcho guys. From the top down, the Cartel wanted to send a clear message:

They're back, they're here, and nobody- nobody gets away with anything.

---

The blast-vest wasn't heavy as he wanted- but it was effective. Two other Cartel hired guns were with him. It was a small warehouse, with roughly a dozen or so guys inside. The three outside were already dead, the sentry removal skills of Dax being put on display. Knife to the lungs to prevent screaming, wire around the other, and a solid hit to the back of the head to the last.

Went down on time, on target.

His footsteps were deathly quiet while he stood outside the door. No, he wasn't going to blow a charge on the door, swoop in, and effectively engage the targets. The three hired guns stood outside the door, one man with a breaching tool across him. The door to the inner part of the warehouse, where they were presumably doing the counts for the corners and drug operations locally- and weighing their shipments, their new product- was a fairly solid door, an old-school door, with a bolt-lock and built on hinges. Not sliding hydraulics like the newer things. No, perhaps more secure. Less susceptible to slicing and mechanical interference. Unfortunately, a breaching tool prying it off its hinges was in the cards, and even with the blaster fire from the threshold into the hallway, it wasn't enough. Red and green bolts skipped across the ground, carbon scoring marking where the inner dealers had failed to find their mark on the three shooters.

Each shooter nodded, prepped a frag, and threw it inside at a slightly different angle. Dax held up a finger, covered his head, and waited for them all to go of-

BOOM,

BOOM

BOOM!!!

Timers were short. Just a half second shorter. The gunfire stopped and the room was blown out, debris and drywall and permacrete every which way. Dax was the first in the room, rifle at the ready. Most of them were dead or dying, and spice was flung around the room, credits scattered. He was glad he was wearing a full helmet- the rebreather kept him from going sky-high into the atmosphere with the amount of drugs in the room. Still, he didn't push his luck with the filter. He and the team went around the room, finishing off quickly the dying has-been who's-who of the neighborhood drug game.

They might have been tough, they might have been smart, but Dax had yet to meet a man tough enough or smart enough to outsmart a hand grenade and a bullet to the chest.

 

[Xoff Chantin]

Outfit: Something Nice

Spoiler: Loadout

• Vixen's Vault
• FFS Utility Belt
• Beauty Blades
• Bond-Lock Pomade
• ClearView Essence: Perfume
• Code Breaker Card
• Covert Compact
• Covert Kiss: Laser Lipstick
• Covert PurseGlow Guard
• HushCuffs
• Nite Night Nails: Polish
• Phantom FreshProcessor
• PendantRe-Pulse Ring
• SlyTie
• Vixen's Vambrace

The dark halls with shadows, more than once Xoff thought they spotted someone dashing across.

The only confirmation of presence was the grim stoicism that Xoff's Zeltron Empathic Telepathy picked up on. A do-gooder, perhaps - interested in the hostage Xoff kept behind.

Behind the porcelain mask, Xoff cracked into a grin as he ran a tongue across his teeth. A slow laugh of adrenaline kicking in as he realized he couldn't keep up with the Shadow-Devil's movements. He had heard reports on other worlds of interference by a vigilante known as DEVILMAN - but never suspected he'd get the chance to see the shadow firsthand.

Glitterspice, death sticks, the finest wines and whiskeys and stimms - Xoff had tried them all. Nothing compared to the rush of fear, the tingling on the back of your neck where a Vibroblade could strike at any moment.

Savour the moment Xoff thought as he pulled out an injector amongst the flickering motions. A cocktail of stim, Adrenal, and Yaladai spice that was would be overdose an unprepared Zeltron, let alone any other species.

Xoff's eyes grew bloodshot, pupils dilated, each artery, vein, muscle suddenly felt utterly in control and empowered, the sound of blood rushing with each heartbeat. Xoff listened, honed in on the emotional signature.

The Zeltron looked up, manic-ecstatic expression hidden by the porcelain mask - but the eyes, the red veined sclera and midnight pupils, would be a telltale sign to the vigilante of the pure chaos the blood-splattered fatale just injected.

A beat of eye contact.

Xoff felt Delicious fear.

Then leapt, punching with the Re-Pulse ring - not fast enough to catch the Devil, sadly, but delightfully sending a shockwave of force blasting a hole into the floor above. With the servo assistance in the heels of his thigh-high boots, Xoff lept to the floor above through the new opening, then sped after the Devil, trying to corner the specter into direct confrontation - a good ol' fashioned ring-empowered fistfight.

DEVILMAN​

 

[Whottoomuzz Chantin]

"You karking psychopathic slug!" One Nazz trio shouted as the broadcast cut off, raising to his feet while a wrist mounted holdout blaster extended into his wrist, firing directly at the Hutt.

The blaster left a carbon print on the Whottoomuzz's thick, blaster resistant skin, the slime sizzling doing no harm than a cigarette burn on the massive, centuries old crime Lord.

"Soong uba dopa banka fo da way dis pateesa koona. Da Nazz namee nee choo een nenoleeya."

With that, the enforcers were let loose upon the leadership. The attempted assassin - eyes wide as they realized their blaster was futile against the approaching Hutt - began to plead.

Whottoomuzz used to enjoy shockboxing, though has fallen a bit out of shape. Strength and muscle memory remained however. In the ensuing one-sided chaos it was all too easy for the Hutt to wrench the meeting table from the floor toss it to the side, clearing the path between him and the example to be made. Another bolt managed to escape the holdout blaster, leaving a second futile burn on the Hutt. Whottoomuzz slithered to the Nazz leader-turned assailant.

The first blow sounded with a crunch and the victim cracked the tiling of the meeting room wall when they collided with it. Unable to stand after being knocked back from the Hutt's fist. The Nazz representative could only gasp for air as the next blow from the Hutt fell upon him.

The Nazz rep was dead by the time the third hit landed, and the fourth, fifth, and sixth.

Whottoomuzz reached for a handkerchief to clean off his knuckles as he broadcast on a now- open channel to all contractors on Nar Shaddaa:

<<Nazz leadership is liquidated. Dispose of the rest as you see fit. One hundred credits for each head you bring back.>>

OOC: wrapping up objective 2, those on objective one, feel free to include a body count at the bottom of your exit post and I'll reward with UWC

Tork Lok | Makar Clyne | Jakharl | Dax Harrac | "Cobalt" | Rugal Bardiche | Athriel | Xazzex Xivar​