Public Hutt Cartel Banquet: An Open Social for Criminals, Bounty Hunters, Mercs and Freelancers

[Goros the Hutt]

Socialize, network, and have fun. EAT till you drop! | OOC Thread​

Nar Shadda: The Undevith Underscore Sector

Goros's Palace and Eatery, known as The Gorgery to those with a sufficent appetite or simply Goros's Eatery to most, held pride of place within the Undevith Underscore, an area of Nar Shadda rife with some of the most lucrative and dangerous deals one could make. Music from live performers and dancers spilled out the double doors, the palace alive with the bustle of a busy crowd on Feast Day!

Many successful Hutts built palaces, and Goros's Eatery was one where you could eat until you dropped. The five-level domed green structure, filled with bars and areas to gorge yourself, offered anything you could want to consume, drink or relax to. Various guards mingled among the many visiting species; this Hutt favored Trandoshans, large reptilian Houks, and Rodians. Numerous slaves, droids, and underlings attended to people's needs. Seeing an empty plate was rare; keeping one filled was a good idea, even if you weren't hungry!

The Goros banquet, an almost daily occurrence in the central chamber, resembled a more lavish and overstuffed version of a chain of fast-food stores, stacked atop each other and crushed down onto a few oversized tables. Free food and drink abounded, the main danger being you'd walk out twice the size you were when you came in!

Today, Goros contacted former cartel and consortium members, criminals and freelancers, bounty hunters, and mercenaries to make connections. Any criminal groups were welcome. The Hutt Cartel had recently simmered down, which benefited his business with the competition all but gone. Crime still paid, and Goros had weathered many rises and falls of the Cartel.

Hoo Hoo Hooooo. Atop his sturdy hover sled, the elusive fat behemoth sat surrounded by three rings of guards, chowing down on a colossal bird leg. Taking garnishes from one of the many serving trays held out by slaves next to him. The oversized Hutt never stopped eating for a second on his feast days, which were most days.

An eloquent pink-skinned Theelin female greeted the guests. "The Great and Majestic Goros welcomes you; eat and drink your fill. Socialize and meet others; let the galaxy again know that crime does pay!" She retold the message in many different languages to those arriving. The day a genuine attempt put the profit back into crime.

 

[EN-C14V "Enclave"]

──⇌••⇋──
​

In one of the shaded corners of the central chamber sat Enclave, his legs kicked up on the edge of the table and in his right hand a can of oil. He watched the banquet with interest while subconsciously scrolling through the data pad held in his left. His optics eventually flicked downwards to the data pad when he realized that he had reached the bottom of the list.

Enclave dropped the data pad onto the table and sat up. He turned to the service droid who had given him the data pad and began complaining in binary as he tapped a finger on the table.

[Binary] "This selection of bounties is pitiful."

[Binary] "Apologies sir, but these are all that are available at this time."

[Binary] "Just take it away," Enclave made a dismissive motion with his hand. "Let me know when new ones are available."

[Binary] "Of course, sir."

The service droid reached over to retrieve the data pad and walked away with a tray of drinks in its other hand. Enclave leaned back against the seat but kept his feet to the ground. He lifted the can of oil and shook it, letting out an exasperated sigh when he realized it was empty. The can clanked against the table when he tossed it amongst the pile of abandoned drinks and food the previous occupants of the table had left.

The droid returned his focus to the banquet, his optics scanning the crowd for anything interesting.

──⇌••⇋──​

Tags:

 

[Jolene Bastra]

Though she had her own station in the outer rim, her own little world of mercs and smugglers, Jolene Bastra did frequent Nar Shaddaa.

In fact, she had visited a few of the cantinas and eateries -- mainly old haunts. This time, she thought she'd drop into the world of Goros the Hutt. Of course, she'd heard the name. Few names in their line of work went unnoticed by the old bird, but they'd never crossed paths before. Of course, that might have been for the best, but Jo never felt the need to compete with other crime-lords -- there was plenty of work to go around.

As she entered the establishment, she approved of the banquet style feast. She'd always felt that food really ought to be a requirement for any networking shindig. Made it less of a chore, because... at least there was food.

Anyway, she figured it couldn't hurt to meet some of the current faces -- people were always dying in their line of business. It was only a matter of time before Holden Tark kicked the bucket, and she'd have to find someone to boss around instead.

Jo found her way to the bar and had a seat; she needed to rest her legs. And she needed a drink in a bad way.

Tag: open

 

[Enki Rak]

EN-C14V "Enclave"
​

The party was a mixed bag. Nar Shaddaa brought every flavour of criminal, the grimiest of gangsters schmoozing with suavest of suits, and Captain Rak somewhere in the middle. Sack, his bodyguard, was all dressed up in a more stylish street tough getup, but the Captain went nowhere without a flight suit. An excuse to leave at any time.

The heart of Hutt space was the ideal place to start picking up crew for the coming expedition, but he wouldn't go too loud too quick. Tonight was picking up some hitters. Tomorrow, head to Hylobon for some enforcers and crews.

"Did one of ours get loose?" Sack said, nudging Rak. The bodyguard had spotted what looked like a commando droid, sitting off in one corner.

At a glance, the Captain could tell. "It's independent."

Droids didn't often make their own ways in the galaxy; they weren't often given the chance. But, like any person, they could still be steered. "Let's go have a chat."

The Captain meandered over, slipping past a raucous band of Nikto and a couple Zygerrian slavers, all buddy-buddy after their first couple of drinks. When he reached the droid's table, he invited himself to sit, sliding in across from the droid. He glanced at the service droid who'd left.

"You a hunter, tin man?" He rubbed his nose.

 

[EN-C14V "Enclave"]

──⇌••⇋──​

Enclave’s optics caught sight of two figures moving towards him. He straightened himself up as they approached, his head making stiff movements as he watched one of them sit across from them.

"You a hunter, tin man?" He rubbed his nose.

Enclave tilted his head up slightly so he was staring down at the Captain. He let out an electronic noise, sounding a lot like the binary equivalent of a snarl.

”Affirmative. What of it?”

One of his legs under the table shifted to a better position. If he were organic, one would say he is tense.

──⇌••⇋──​

Tags: Enki Rak

 

[Kas Varad]

Tag: Jolene Bastra | Open

A man in scuffed red Mandalorian armor stood a few paces away from Jolene, ordering, "Corellian Whiskey straight up." Kas Varad leaning against the bar; where else would he be? The vagrant fleet job lasted about five minutes, and there were no space bugs to speak of for months to squash, so he was back sniffing around for work in the usual haunts.

Not so bad. Food on the house and cheaper drinks—not as if Corellian whiskey came cheap, with the planet being split in half and supposedly repaired if the rumors were true. The bartenders usually overvalued it to play off romantic notions or legends, but the truth was that cheaper imitations never matched.

He decided to buy "one for the bar"; with credits in his pocket, he might as well spend. Saying it quietly enough that there wasn't a rush of crders. The Vagrant fleet job had been okay to him—quick and easy. Raising his glass in salute to Jolene, and offering free drinks to those nearby was an age-old way to get anyone's attention.

The Varad spacer turned to rest his elbows behind him, obviously well in his element and intending to get more so before the night was done. Taking some roasted Koja nuts from a passing tray, he dug in, probably the first food he'd had all day and the first time he'd touched planetside off work in over six months.

 

[Monaray Dod]

23:00 || Goros the Hutt ​

Gansorm had always been drawn to the illure of the Criminal Underworld, far more so than the halls of the Federal Assembly. In this realm, the inflexible bureaucracy is replaced with unrestrained liberty, and the mere presence of a blaster is sufficient to secure a fair deal.

With the Galactic Alliance distracted by the Dark Empire, there was a perfect opening for the Senator to indulge in some underhanded dealings with the galaxy's most infamous and powerful such as the Hutt Cartel.

Moving through Goros's Palace and Eatery, also known as The Gorgery in order to speak with the host of such a lavish feast. He was naturally followed by a small squadron of Security Drones, enough to protect him should the criminal cliental of the eatery become violent.

"Great and Majestic Goros, I have come before such as mighty Hutt in the hope of making a profitable deal."

Bending his head in a gesture of respect towards the formidable hutt of the criminal underworld, he spoke wanting to form a partnership.

 

[Goros the Hutt]

EN-C14V "Enclave" | Enki Rak

Attendants walked through, offering to fill empty plates with lavishly decorated foodstuffs. They even provided power cells for droids, some of which were illegal grades on most worlds and carried a hefty kick in energy transfer.

Jolene Bastra

Contrasting the down-on-their-luck spacer offering drinks, a pair of Rodians placed a bottle of Fiora Vintners: Premium-Range Cabernet Sauvignon on Jolene's table, along with a glass. The Theelin with them bowed her head and said, "The Resplendent Goros wishes to thank you for visiting his establishment and to pay suitable respects as a host." One crime boss to another, he would be insulted if she left with anything less than a luxury bottle of wine, the Theelin offering to open it if she wished.

Monaray Dod

Approaching the three rings of minions, each required a word from someone senior to let them through, and they got bigger and meaner as you reached the last one. A massive reptilian Houk, arms crossed, with more scars than free space on his face, made the final call.

Behind him, an older Rodian whispered in Goros ear, interrupting him somewhere between the second serving of his third appetizer. "Koose hoohah unko um keto wana sa nopa godo!" Show him here and make sure his plate is not empty!

Instead of a Twi'lek, another soft-spoken Theelin greeted their guest, asking him to let the droids wait with the guards as he entered the inner circle. No Twi'leks were among their number, a strange absence in a place like this.

"Great and Majestic Goros, I have come before such as mighty Hutt in the hope of making a profitable deal."

Goros listened, mulling over the last bite of his meal. Miraculously, the only thing that usually paused his eating was an offer of business. "Unak keto choy? Bargon dal sa haba noleeya mondo." The Theelin translated an approximation of his response:

"His magnificence, Goros the Hutt, welcomes a fellow man of means to his palace; he is always in the mood for a profit. What deal were you considering?"

 

[Monaray Dod]

23:00 || Goros the Hutt ​

The Koorivar was naturally hesitant to leave the small squadron of Security Drones behind in the outer circle. He knew that the meeting with the Hutt could potentially be dangerous, and he wanted to be prepared for any unforeseen circumstances.

The thought of being defenseless without a blaster made him uneasy, and he couldn't shake off the feeling of vulnerability as the inner court became available to him.

Gansorm attentively observed, lifting his head from the bowed posture. Intrigued by the Hutt's reaction, he awaited the translation of the Huttese by the theelin attendant, and was seemingly overjoyed that the Hutt Overlord seemed open for a business transaction.

The Criminal Underworld could be fickle, so the Koorivar would speak his words carefully.

"A deal of equal exchange, Your Eminence. I am in need of several shipments of Polstine Spice for a prospective client, and in return, I am prepared to provide you with an opportunity to capitalize on the ongoing conflict between the Alliance and the Empire in the core region."

Gansorm meticulously explained to the Hutt Overlord of the Establishment how the he stood to gain significantly from leveraging the conflict between the Alliance and the Empire in the Core Worlds.

 

[Jolene Bastra]

Jolene arched a brow as the man nearby ordered a round for those gathered by the bar. Corellian Whiskey no less. Good man. She, too, raised her glass and had a hearty sip. "Ah," she smiled. That was the good stuff.

She turned when one of Goro's ladies came to pay her respects on behalf of the boss. Jo gave a the Theelin a nod in return. Squinting at the wine label, she recognized it as 'fancy' because she couldn't read it. The Hutt was definitely pulling out all the stops to prove a point. Not that Jolene herself disprove of a bit of showboating. Wine wasn't a drink she'd have chosen, but Jolene was also not about to turn away anything free.

"Much appreciated," she said, taking the bottle.

The old woman turned her attention back to Kas Varad , "the Hutt doesn't disappoint." She took another sip of her drink. "Jolene Bastra," she said, offering her gloved hand. "You work for Goros?"

 

[Tibera Jessen]

Tags: Open!

Finally, a decent vacation after sticking their neck out, Tibera thought. The burned mercenary found themself in the lap of galactic luxury, with no shortage of other mercs in sight. Of course, it couldn't be that simple. Their benefactor Marlon Sularen had offered to pay the way to Nar Shadda if Tibera promised to do some networking. So network she would, once she drank and ate her fill.

One thing became clear rather quickly, this Hutt had an eye for wine. Every table had at the minimum three high dollar bottles set out at any given time. Under normal circumstances they'd take it as a challenge, but it was imperative that Tibera remain sober, at least for a short while. Once the work part of this party was done, they might need to restock the tables!

With a full plate of charred meats in hand, and a full bottle of good wine, the merc sat at one of the tables provided. From the current vantage Tib could see down into the courtyard, seemed one could dine out there if one wanted. This whole place stank of stale bodies and hedonism, but there was a certain beauty to it besides. Maybe Nar Shadda wasn't the drukhole it seemed, there was a vibrant body hidden under the sin covered skin of the planet.

Waxing poetic aside, the drinks of wine made the merc a bit loose lipped. Soon they began passing stories with some of the other mercenaries and bounty hunters at the table.

"If you want a good set of jobs, you gotta go with the Imperials out near Lianna. The Empire of the Lost is paying me more than you might think just to play bodyguard for one of their Colonels!" Tibera said to some of the younger people at the table. Green as they were they had to be pretty good to get all the way here.

Something distracted Tibera though, she stopped mid-sentence just to look at her. It was the first time the sheltered woman saw a Theelin before, but it was definitely something to remember.

 

[Eirc Galloway]

HOUSE OF BALLOONS

~bring out the glass tables~

GEAR: Black outer, maroon armor
TAG: Tibera Jessen ​

NAR SHADDAA, HUTT SPACE

The past few weeks had been really taxing to the crew. A raid on a Black Sun cell in the Slice, courtesy of a tip from my dear arm dealer. The payout's huge, don't get me wrong, but Black Sun cells are always the hardest to crack open. Those guys know a thing or two about security, and we had to do hundreds of hours of preparation. Subsequently, the crew's looking for a wild payoff after what's been hard weeks for them, and coincidentally, there's an invite to the Gorgery. We covered our track quite well on our last raid, so I wouldn't really worry of an encounter with the Black Sun here, plus, the network in such party is always very lucrative in our line of business. The only negative? It's a Hutt event.

The Hutts, gotta be one of the most disgusting folks out there. Even their lavish parties are hard in the eyes. All the pretty girls they brought, the exquisite food and the plentiful liquors doesn't help, you can still smell the Hutts' slimy guts. Yet the crew demanded so, and the business opportunities waits on the other side of the party, I guess I'll just have to suck it up and do the things I'm good at.

Couple of interesting faces here, while the boys are having the time of their life, I'm walking around for juicy tips. A couple of greetings here and there, old crewmates and all, yet one conversation drew me into a table of a couple of mercs and hunters, a metal-cladded woman mentioning the word LOST.

"The Lost? Tell me about it, love?" I slide to her side, making myself comfortable with a glass of scotch in my hand and raising eyebrows on my face. The Lost, lest we forget.

 

[Kas Varad]

Tag: Jolene Bastra

Kas watched the wine bearers leave before speaking, annoyed they'd one-upped him.

"They do okay. Pay on time." Goros at least paid and honored deals, which was more than some contacts he had. Some days, you'd have more luck getting a Rancor to play Pazaak than getting the full credits from a Triad contact.

Straightening up off the bar, he confidently walked over and shook her hand with interest. "Kas Varad." The spacer nodded, giving her direct eye contact to get a read. Basra—had he heard that name somewhere? No way to be sure. The Varad spent most of their time in space, and he wasn't an exception. Chances are one of them had heard a rumor of a rumor, of a story in a bar, but often he wasn't fit to remember it the next day.

Did he work for Goros? "I work for credits, not picky." He couldn't be; the work was where it was. Sometimes, that meant Zann Consortium work, Hutt Cartel work, grifting for a half-baked Triad operation, or freelancing.

"Been on the rim awhile, taking what I can get." Squashing whatever bug nest they were paying to have cleared. "How about you?" he asked more quietly, aware of their surroundings, putting his hands on a chair top but not sitting without an invitation.

 

[Goros the Hutt]

@All | Tibera Jessen | Eirc Galloway | Jolene Bastra | EN-C14V "Enclave" | Enki Rak

A droid stepped up on the stage. Surely it wasn't going to sing? It began tapping its feet, its saucer-shaped head bobbing, and then its synthetic voice let fly into a binary-star palace classic. Perhaps one of the guests had inspired it, or it was just lucky timing.

Cartel datapads with contacts, jobs, and future opportunities were offered or subtly slipped to anyone of note during the cleverly placed distraction. #Future Plot Hooks. If accepted, they'd see a few anonymous contact identities and ways to receive job offers for their consideration.

Monaray Dod

Goros considered the offer, puffing away on some particularly exotic spice mix. The cartel had faded from the galactic stage, as it often did in a rise and fall. Although he had profited from his competitors falling away, he was never satisfied. The Hutt was always greedy for more significant opportunities, and this offer promised just that.

"Doe bargon sa Doko Soema choy? Sa doe che copah doe nek oroto?"

"The ever-resourceful Goros can provide this bargain and more, but he asks, what opportunity do you speak of? What price would he get in exchange?" If the Senator was wise, Goros didn't need a precise figure, but the Cartel liked the terms laid out; deals were the only real law here.

The elder Rodian ensured the band's music turned up nearby, the sound facing outward not to interrupt them but to drown out the sound away from them. Subtly, a sonic inhibitor switched on, creating an effective sound screen past the first wall of guards.

With a word, all except the elderly Rodian, the mean-looking Houk, and Goros's graceful Theelin translator walked out of earshot. Giving as much privacy as the two would ever have.

 

[Suuv]

Why Suuv had to attend this party was beyond mortal guess. The slender bounty hunter in the Ubese Raider Armor stood apart from the crowd, with the back to the wall. That part of the wall that was reinforced by durasteel. As a sniper, Suuv knew exactly that normal walls offered no protection against some antimaterial rifles.

Cursed floating Hutt Brodda!
The Ubese did not like parties, did not like the scum washed ashore here, and definitive did not like wasting time.
Being a to-be-seen-subject representing the alliance of Brodda and Goros was annoying.
Of all the retainers, carving the opportunity to grovel before Goros, Brooda chose the only one who did not care.

But perhaps that was the intention of the sly diplomat of a Hutt. Suuv was the only one who would calmly observe all that happened and making a neutral report.
Fellow hunters were also here, of course. Mercenaries, criminals, even a senator. But weren't all senators criminals.

Food and drink, at least! But It would be a pain to consume it lifting the helmet in some unseen private corner. The Ubese would later ask for a doggy bag.

Suuv sighted. The voice scrambler of the Helmet make an intimidating snarl out of that.

 

[Monaray Dod]

23:00 || Goros the Hutt ​

Gansorm watched in silent contemplation as the Hutt mawled over his dealing, likely weighing the pros and cons of supporting such a request. The atmosphere was growing tense, with both parties silently sizing each other up, trying to anticipate the other's next move.

Despite such tension, he remained composed, his expression betraying nothing as the eagerly awaited the Hutt's word.

The request for several shipments of Polstine Spice was acceptable to Goros, but naturally they waited to know more about the counter offer the Senator had in store to complete the transaction.

Gansorm had numerous options to present to the Hutt Overlord, yet one specific offering was considered satisfactory.

"A price most fair, Great One. With the Galactic Alliance distracted by the war with the New Empire in the core region, there are endless chances to gain profit. One specific approach includes the involvement of my associates in the Trade Federation in creating shortages on multiple planets located at the outer edge of the Alliance. You would then be able to fill the void with underworld goods through the Black-Market, allowing you to gain several footholds within the Alliance, all without the knowledge of the Alliance Marshals."

The Koorivar explained, providing limited information but enticing enough to allow the Hutt Overlord to take numerous planets underneath his criminal empire.

 

[Enki Rak]

EN-C14V "Enclave"
​

He flagged down one of the servers and grabbed a power cell, briefly checking it before sliding it across the table to the droid. Organic or not, a little imbibing smoothed the nerves. "And a Sonic Servodriver," he ordered.

His bodyguard stood by, silently quelling traffic by their table in order to keep eavesdroppers out.

"I might have work for you," he said. "But I've got commando droids on crew, I've seen what you can do. I want to know what makes you special before I give you anything."

 

[Nej Tane]

Nej had a lot of gaul coming to Hutt space. Even more to come here. But he had a helpful bargaining chip. It'd been roughly two decades, but Hutts were long-lived and bounties were bounties. Nej tapped his foot on the ground, approaching the social, red jacket, strawberry blonde hair, and the signature smug look all on display.

And he stared at Goros the Hutt , holding something small and wrapped, something to hopefully square up his debt.

And there were enough Bounty Hunters here that Nej didn't want to cause too much of a stir. So he'd wait for the big slug to get down discussing before making his move to square up his debts.

 

[Tibera Jessen]

Tags: Eirc Galloway

It was a rare occasion for Tibera to be referred to with such a feminine phrase as "Love" by any man. Such a thing easily melted some of the hard outer shell the mercenary kept up. She looked at the similarly armor-clad man with a smile, moving to make more room at the table. "Well ain't you the charmer? Yeah I rock with The Lost, they're a wild bunch. Got an army of clones but still manage to shell out for mercs for special ops."

Despite the fussing and cussing that Tibera usually did when on mission for Nim or one of the other members of The Lost, she did enjoy the pay. Even if it meant dropping out of aircraft or fighting ten-to-one odds against primitives. It was only in moments after the battle that it sank in how much she enjoyed her work. That was enough to jog her memory of the reason she was actually here, and it certainly wasn't for the unpronounceable meat products.

Sularen wanted new blood for The Unit, and that was looking pretty promising. If Tibera could just work the pitch up she might be able to recruit some of the thugs around here to be a proper black ops unit. Couldn't make it too hard of a sell though, because most were more discerning than that.

"You meet some wild people working in that neck of space, met one guy who's willing to pay through the nose for good mercs. He has some grand plans for himself and needs skilled gunners to accomplish them. Sound interesting?"

 

[Eirc Galloway]

HOUSE OF BALLOONS

~bring out the glass tables~

GEAR: Black outer, maroon armor
TAG: Tibera Jessen ​

NAR SHADDAA, HUTT SPACE

Well well well, this one’s just a dog workin’ with anyone with credits. Not unusual in our line of work, doesn’t make me think of ‘em better.

“Hiring mercs for special operations? And I thought the Imperials are famous for their Commando units.”

I chuckled, offering the woman a smile as I raised my glass of prastaig. Maybe working for the Lost wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Deplete them off their resources, learn about the intricacies inside, prepare for the insurgency.

The other person the woman mentioned, however, is as intriguing, if not even more. “A man with a grand plan. Sounds like a good ‘ol Hapan tragedy, eh?” I let another chuckle out, my face showing full interest of the tale of the mystery man.