Bu Che copah
Suuv
A skittish-looking Rodian placed a datapad near to the Ubese with cartel contacts and ways to receive future jobs nearby, clearly intimidated and not risking his luck to stick around. No name was asked or required, understanding his race's secrecy and aggression. It did seem the Hutts were especially interested in someone as ruthless as his species was known to be; they'd left a not-insubstantial tab ready paid at the bar to incite interest.
Monaray Dod
Goros sat on his robust Hoversled, puffing on his spice. He considered footholds on the core worlds, usually the territory of The Family and The Exchange past the midrim's Black Sun operations. Once ascendant, the Family had gone quiet, likely wiped out by a competitor, but he'd heard no word. If Goros could push or buy the Exchange out too, with the help of a senator, that had the potential to hurt a rival and expand his smuggling connections far from home.
He and the elderly Rodian conversed together at length, with the Theelin translating when they were done as always. This time, she flourished in her steps and voice.
"Dear Senator, his most esteemed Goros believes what you say could be lucrative. It will require deals to be made to secure understanding from other parties, which takes credits as I am sure you understand. If you can personally guarantee these opportunities are given, then we have an agreement and look forward to a long-term partnership."
If accepted, the senator wasn't handed a datapad of contacts; he got a personal line to where Goros sent his comms traffic to be sorted. Goros moved a lot on his ship, which made it harder for him to be tracked. From ship to Comm Station to Comms Sorting, but it was a direct line for communication.
Black Sun operations lay ominously between here and the core. Most of his competitors had been wiped out in the Black Sun's aggressive takeover bid; only clever bribes and choices had kept him secure. The same caution would be required to navigate through their territories. The map of the underworld was a tricky one, where political lines interspaced with underworld connections. Decisions were made in shadowy back rooms, through bribes unseen by the public, or through decidedly hostile takeovers.
Nej Tane
While Nej waited for now. If he approached, he would meet the first ring of three circles of minions. Goros was known for being excessive regarding security, rarely appearing at all; that and clever bribes were why he had remained in business when the Suns purged the Hutts.
The first ring consisted of younger hopefuls, Triad gangs taken from planets in crime, chaos, or conflict, all places where Fire For Effect did a lot of business! While all kinds of races stood in the first ring, many large Houks, mean Trandoshans, and cunning Rodians populated the next two rings, the third ring of guards looked especially rough.
A young former Ranc Gang member caught Nej staring at his boss. The blue Duros, with several layers of tattoos on his face and sporting the usual gun-up punk triad armor, could be the first one Nej spoke to if he made a move forward. It was an opportunity if he played it right, whatever his intent.
A skittish-looking Rodian placed a datapad near to the Ubese with cartel contacts and ways to receive future jobs nearby, clearly intimidated and not risking his luck to stick around. No name was asked or required, understanding his race's secrecy and aggression. It did seem the Hutts were especially interested in someone as ruthless as his species was known to be; they'd left a not-insubstantial tab ready paid at the bar to incite interest.
Monaray Dod
Goros sat on his robust Hoversled, puffing on his spice. He considered footholds on the core worlds, usually the territory of The Family and The Exchange past the midrim's Black Sun operations. Once ascendant, the Family had gone quiet, likely wiped out by a competitor, but he'd heard no word. If Goros could push or buy the Exchange out too, with the help of a senator, that had the potential to hurt a rival and expand his smuggling connections far from home.
He and the elderly Rodian conversed together at length, with the Theelin translating when they were done as always. This time, she flourished in her steps and voice.
"Dear Senator, his most esteemed Goros believes what you say could be lucrative. It will require deals to be made to secure understanding from other parties, which takes credits as I am sure you understand. If you can personally guarantee these opportunities are given, then we have an agreement and look forward to a long-term partnership."
If accepted, the senator wasn't handed a datapad of contacts; he got a personal line to where Goros sent his comms traffic to be sorted. Goros moved a lot on his ship, which made it harder for him to be tracked. From ship to Comm Station to Comms Sorting, but it was a direct line for communication.
Black Sun operations lay ominously between here and the core. Most of his competitors had been wiped out in the Black Sun's aggressive takeover bid; only clever bribes and choices had kept him secure. The same caution would be required to navigate through their territories. The map of the underworld was a tricky one, where political lines interspaced with underworld connections. Decisions were made in shadowy back rooms, through bribes unseen by the public, or through decidedly hostile takeovers.
Nej Tane
While Nej waited for now. If he approached, he would meet the first ring of three circles of minions. Goros was known for being excessive regarding security, rarely appearing at all; that and clever bribes were why he had remained in business when the Suns purged the Hutts.
The first ring consisted of younger hopefuls, Triad gangs taken from planets in crime, chaos, or conflict, all places where Fire For Effect did a lot of business! While all kinds of races stood in the first ring, many large Houks, mean Trandoshans, and cunning Rodians populated the next two rings, the third ring of guards looked especially rough.
A young former Ranc Gang member caught Nej staring at his boss. The blue Duros, with several layers of tattoos on his face and sporting the usual gun-up punk triad armor, could be the first one Nej spoke to if he made a move forward. It was an opportunity if he played it right, whatever his intent.