Smug Slug
The Wheel
Inside a conference room on the enormous space station, Gorba slithered up to the head of a presently empty table, which he hoped would soon be filled with representatives of all the major criminal syndicates who had an interest in Hutt Space.
This would be a significant risk to his kajidic if matters did not play out as hoped. If no one came it would show how weak he had become. The Hutt’s meaty fingers curled and uncurled around the stem of a hookah pipe as he took a long drag then breathed out the vapor in a heavy mist.
They needed to show up.
Security was elevated. Armed Nikto, Vodran, Weequay, and Houks roamed the corridors outside. If Gorba could just forget about the Bryn’adul and the Silver Jedi he could almost imagine he was about to sit down with the surviving members of his old cabal after smashing the forces of that annoying fool Popo.
But it was not.
This would be bigger than the cabal. Bigger than anything he’d done before. The other kajidii would hate it, but those slugs could get with the times or be cut down when the Silvers came.
Hutt Republic. Bah. What a joke. This would be no Republic. This would be a collusion of crime lords across the galaxy for the sole purpose of retaking what they’d lost. A consortium in Hutt Space.
If they showed up.
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