These Shattered Stars -- Logs

Dholman's cantina is starting to get the mid-afternoon crowd, for those who not only show up to swap news but also starting in on the comradely carousing early. A pretty typical band starts playing as Freyja, Vakkal, and the Balmorran troubadour enter, and have just about gone on their fourth number by the time Zero and Fhazil arrive.

The cross-section of species here is astounding, though seems to be geared more towards Humans, Twi'Leks, and Nikto, and similar (that is, near-Human) species. The food smells relatively appetizing to a hungry person, though mingled with some of the other scents present makes for an interesting dining experience.

It isn't hard for Zero and Fhazil to spot which table the others are at; Vakkal is the only canid in the place. Zero makes his way quietly through the crowd toward the table. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he murmurs as he slides into a seat across from the other three. "I interpret the will of the Force as wanting absolutely nothing to go according to plan." He sighs and smiles ruefully.

Freyja smiles up at her arriving friends, "Heiyo! Zero, Fhazil, this is the bard Fingolfin Reykjasen." She finishes introducing her friends, then adds cheerfully, "He's originally from Balmorra. His mother was a former armsbearer for Haus Jotunsen, and he's interested in going back home."

Zero says, "I see... interesting."

Reykjasen nods politely. "Good eve, and heiyo. Pleased to meet you."

Freyja grins at the Balmorran, "So have you asked Dholman if you can play here?"

Reykjasen nods. "I have, yes." He smiles a bit tightly. "They prefer to have their own bands come in to play."

Freyja looks disappointed, "Well, wolf-feathers. I was hoping for another chance to dance!'

Vakkal glances around and murmurs, "This doesn't look to be the type of crowd that enjoys dancing."

Zero says, "Rather not."

Freyja looks around herself thoughtfully... then smiles and shakes her head, "Depends on the dancer, I think, Vakkal. I bet the Balmorran Diamond would please them!"

Zero says, "The what?"

Fhazil represses a shudder. "Or kill them through diabetic shock...!"

Reykjasen blinks. "The what? Pardon?"

Freyja grins ruefully and shakes her head in amusement at herself -- she's no Balmorran Diamond, and well she knows it! -then says to Reykjasen, "So, will you be playing anywhere in particular tomorrow? I'd like to..." she grins a bit sheepishly, "-well, I don't get many chances to dance any more, and I'm no professional. So... if you happened to be playing somewhere, and you thought the clientele wouldn't mind, I'd, um... be happy to dance again, if you didn't mind?" Her tone is a bit shy at the end there... she's a bit self-conscious about how her skills compare to her sister's.

At the questions concerning "Balmorran Diamond," Freyja smiles and shrugs one shoulder gracefully, "Balmorran Diamond. Famous holovid star." She grins and cheerfully pokes Fhazil in the side with a finger, "Oh, come now! She's not that bad!"

Zero says, "Oh. Her. Something tells me this sort of spacer crowd prefers their dancers to be semi-robed."

Freyja rolls her eyes in amusement at her companions, "What is this? I'm the one that's supposed to be diffident about her!" She laughs, "And really, she's not that bad... just, um... just intense!"

Zero says, "I don't think her handlers would approve."

Freyja blinks at Zero... then looks back at the crowd again, "Really? Wolf-feathers. I always think it's a shame when a world's traditions are warped like that." She frowns and goes back to her food.

Zero says, "Something tells me Tynnea never had any traditions to speak of. It's odd, though; I found one of my own countrymen here, too. Nothing ever goes the way we expect, aiyah?"

Reykjasen lifts his shoulders a little. "What traditions exist are carried over, really, only at the pleasure of the ruling Hutt. The rest of the population tends to be either too transitory, or too impoverished. The slaves might have traditions, but I've thankfully never been in that state to find out."

Zero says, "That's probably for the best."

Freyja blinks at Zero, then looks around the room again. All those people with no one they can trust; all those folks desperately scavenging just to survive... softly she murmurs, "Neh aristoi at all? Funny... I thought I understood what that meant, but..." She takes a slow breath, then whispers, "How... terribly sad for them all..."

Zero says, "Welcome to the galaxy, my dear one. I hate this place. Hutt Space. Pfeh." Freyja blinks at Zero, her face very, very still... then just lays her hand silently on his for a moment, giving him a gentle squeeze, before she quietly goes back to her food.

Reykjasen says, "It depends on what you call 'aristoi,' here. The Hutts, the majordomo, the sub-majordomos, the enforcer captains with estates... they could be considered aristoi, and they know enough to try to keep people satisfied, but it's not quite like how it was on Balmorra... or anywhere in the Republic, for that matter."

Freyja whispers fiercely at Reykjasen, so no one at other tables will hear, "Neh! Neh, the label does not mean just those on top! There's more than that to it -- mutual respect and responsibilities and honor and du-!" She cuts herself off, biting her lip, then murmurs softly, "I am sorry, bard Reykjasen. I'm probably out of my depth here, and over-reacted to your innocent comment." She takes a deep breath, then turns to Zero, deliberately changing the subject, "You found one of your countrymen here? Interesting..."

Zero says, "I may need to remain on the planet a bit longer. There are some Sedraki here; kidnap victims... I've promised to try to help get them home. Ten Years' War veterans; wounded. But they have those damned slave implants... I have to find some way to disable them. You all don't need to help with this if you don't want to... it's a matter of honor, it's my planet. It's not your problem unless you want it to be."

Reykjasen looks kind of startled, blinking, then ducks his head. "My apologies, La- er, kuras. You are right."

Freyja looks a bit shocked at Zero's comment, initially. Then her eyes narrow as her brain kicks into gear and she starts considering the ramifications of the situation. She has the good grace to blush at Reykjasen's apology, "Neh, grandfather bard, it is I who should apologize, for being ethnocentric here where you are the expert and I the tourist."

Reykjasen shakes his head. "Neh, neh, it's all right. No, the Hutts aren't aristoi. The aristoi I remember don't condone slavery."

Freyja smiles at Reykjasen as brilliantly and nicely as she can, still feeling guilty about her snapping at the poor man -- like he doesn't have enough troubles already? Then she considers Zero's statements, thoughtfully sipping her drink, then says slowly, "Veterans. Doesn't your government function like aristoi for your people, Zero? How would they react to the news that some of their veterans had been kidnapped and were slaves here?"

Zero says, "They would retrieve them at any means necessary. And when they discover who is responsible... the bloodletting in the Black Wind will be legendary." He smiles a tight little smile. "I only wish I could be there."

Freyja wrinkles her nose, "Ew, those nasty people again?" She falls silent, then hms thoughtfully to herself and pulls out her datapad, accessing the public port news. She's looking to see if there are any ships headed for Gyndine which are taking passengers. She'd prefer working passenger, if there are any, but a regular paying passenger berth would work too. She grins, also casually scanning as well for where Hutt enforcer ships berth. She's betting that's where the Rapier will dock tomorrow, and she'd like to know where she's quietly avoiding! Then she blinks, looking up at Zero, "Wait... did you say they're wounded now?!"

Fhazil says quietly, "They may not be the only ones the Black Wind has sold, either. It might be a good idea to let the Sedraki know soon. The Black Wind probably sold others whom they didn't like into slavery."

Freyja nods gravely to Fhazil, then looks back at Zero inquiringly, who says, "They cut his wife's throat out. She can't speak. He's just old and sick." Freyja gives Zero a shocked look, then visibly pulls herself together and doesn't do anything disgraceful and attention-attracting. Zero white-knuckles his cup. "I want to kill every last Black Wind daitu. They're nothing but parasites... losing them would only make Sedrak a better place."

Freyja's search comes up with nothing heading for Gyndine directly, but one small freighter is heading towards a world in a Republic client state, one of the numerous buffer states between Hutt space and the Republic. From there it shouldn't be too hard to find passage deeper into the Republic, and from there to Balmorra. The Mid Rim and deeper worlds of the Republic tend to have refugee transport arrangements for those who are impoverished and trying to return to old homes or make new ones. Ah, there we go. Looks like I can arrange a crossover flight from the client state where that first freighter is stopping, to another freighter making the run along the Hydian Way, that stops off at Gyndine. She quietly checks the price to buy passage, checking to see if a working passenger is acceptable.

At Zero's comment, Freyja says quietly, "Zero... they may be..." she has to take a second to get it out, "-respected business clients here. Don't advertise, please."

Zero says, "Let them come."

Freyja quietly taps on her datapad, searching for a connection with a stopover, if she can, to Gyndine. She doesn't look up as she says in quiet, conversational tones, "Then you'll kill us all as well?"

Zero says, "I don't expect everyone to understand. Regardless, they're not here. They're working through proxies."

Freyja gives Zero an impassive glance, "Neh, I think it's you that don't understand... but I also don't think you want to hear." She shrugs and goes back to her datapad.

Zero says, "Excuse me, please." He stands and walks to the bar. Freyja opens her mouth to ask him where his veteran friends are, so she can heal them... then sighs and shrugs. When he gets over it he'll remember and tell me. Obviously they can wait until then.

Freyja discovers there is working passage available for experienced space-hands only; bare-bones passage is still pretty hefty. She can afford it -- it comes out to about 5000 credits -- but it's a serious chunk of change. She rests her chin on her fist, considering... if she bought passage for Reykjasen and sent him to Roakkana, she could get him to give her Master messages. One to send on to her family, about Reykjasen... and one to Sedrak, to let them know about what the Black Wind tong has been doing.

Freyja considers the injured people as well. The sick man should be easy to heal... the woman, however, is another story. It sounds like the vocal chords were slashed; she might be able to be healed, but it would be a fairly long process -- a few hours, at least, since it's re-growing delicate tissue, as opposed to simply knitting torn tissue.

Freyja finds, to her relief, the enforcer ships land at an annex to the spaceport -- not in the spaceport itself. Good. She also decides to discuss this issue -- how to handle the Sedraki and the bard -- further with her friends that night, and see if they think it's a good idea or not. Better by far, she thinks, to get the homeworld, Sedrak itself, involved, so this traffic in people can be more effectively halted. Plus she's willing to help Reykjasen out, but she needs to consider the ramifications of doing so. Will he non-consciously think someone else will always bail him out if she does this? How will she explain being able to do this, and if he insists on some form of payment, what would she ask for? She needs to think more.

The bartender gets around to coming over to Zero. He's a large, greasy looking creature, of the same species as Staster but somewhat more unkempt, with a distinct Huttee accent. He growls a few words in Huttee, then asks, "What'll it be?"

Reykjasen shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Ah... for what it's worth," he murmurs, "I will be glad to play for you when you would like me to, kuras."

Freyja smiles at Reykjasen again, "I'd like that, thank you. Let me know where you'll be, please, tomorrow?" She adds curiously, "Do you know someone named Captain Thorn?"

"I will do that, certainly, Kuras. I will be at Arc Street on the north end, in front of the junkyard." He thinks for a second, then nods. "Yes, Thorn. One of the better enforcers. Well, better at his job; better as a person. Corellian, former pirate in the Mid Rim before joining the Hutts. He became one of Ameil's enforcers a couple of years ago."

Freyja looks faintly surprised, then grins at Fhazil, "Ah. Those wacky Corellians... so nosy about Balmorra!" Her tone is teasing.

Fhazil snorts a little, smiling wryly. "We inherently recognize quality."

Freyja laughs! -then grins and winks at Fhazil, "Flatterer!" Then she grins ruefully, glancing back at the bard, "Well... hopefully the captain understands neh." She thinks a moment, then says, "Uhm... I'm not familiar with the town. Can you give me directions to northern Arc Street?" The bard gives directions to the particular street. It isn't far from the spaceport.

Freyja muses over the incidents of the last few hours, her eyes narrowed in thought as she sips her drink. It's almost exasperating how many lost puppies they seem to be collecting responsibility for! She considers a bit more, then ah's quietly to herself -- there's the reason -- the Force must be wanting this to occur. She sighs quietly, with a faintly rueful smile. So that's it... well, we'll handle it as best we can. Pity there aren't more Jedi here, though... we -- and the Force! -could sure use some more help here.

Dinner, such as it is, proceeds for five more minutes -- which is about the time when the distant sound of a ship blasting its way out of the Mos rumbles over the rest of the city. Everyone's small hairs stand out on end as the escaping ship's ion engines supercharge the moist atmosphere, and the pungent scent of ozone fills the street simultaneously with the thunder of the small ship passing overhead, disappearing quickly into the distance.

Zero doesn't bother to look up from his drink, "...thousand hells, who's the traffic controller here," he mutters to it.

Fhazil looks up as the ship flies overhead, then shakes his head. "Wonder who's in trouble now," he mutters.

Vakkal provides, "I'd say someone who owes the Hutts money."

"I'd wager someone trying to not get killed by the Hutts."

"And is there a difference?"

"...no, I guess not."

Freyja raises an eyebrow, her head lifted to listen, and murmurs, "Right into the arms of the Rapier would be my guess. They'll need all the luck they can scrounge."

There is a brief news announcement from one of the newscom channels, talking about how a ship was just stolen from the landing bay and the enforcers are in pursuit. Anyone stupid enough to steal a ship from Ameil the Hutt is likely not going to survive, but the majordomo has assured all the ship will be recovered in one piece.

And that's when the Nikto port rep bursts into the cantina, barely eliciting a glance from most of the clientele even as he looks around, spots the group, grimaces, and moves swiftly towards them.

Freyja gives the Nikto an inquiring glance. Zero eyes the Nikto quietly from the bar. No... couldn't be...

Freyja goes still, watching the approaching Nikto, then her eyes widen, "Oh my goddess -- what ship?!" She rises unwittingly, watching the Nikto approach, "What is it?" Her voice is worried. Absently she draws an empty chair over for the Nikto from a nearby table, her gaze not leaving him as he approaches.

The Nikto swings by Zero on the way to the table. "This something wish may to be hearing, sir," he murmurs en passant.

Zero slides off his stool. "Gods below, don't you tell me..."

The Nikto looks incredibly embarrassed -- no, he looks positively frustrated, as he nods gratefully for the seat to Freyja. "Yes, are probably guessing right: ship yours stolen was. But... not left planet yet has. Captain Thorn hunting ship for is in Eastern regions. Are believing thieves meant for another courier, same model but older, to be stealing, but choose yours accidentally they did." He sighs and shakes his head. "Am conveying apologies of majordomo, and presence Ameil the Hutt requested has."

Zero actually blanches. That's not easy considering his complexion, but he distinctly pales. "Ameil... wants to speak to us?"

Freyja goes pale, despite her usual golden hue, frantically reviewing what's on the ship, and if any of it betrays their Force-awareness. She thinks all the really guilty stuff is on their persons, actually... her gloves are in her pockets, and the lightsabers are all on them... she blinks, re-focusing on the present, "Er... pardon? He does? Er... she? -ah... what gender is the honored Hutt, please?"

Then she shakes her head in frustration, "How did they get in?! Zero's careful -- was this an inside job?" She blinks again, realizing how that sounds, then adds more diplomatically, "Ah... let us try that again. Would you care to tell us what occurred, please?" She has no desire to further embarrass the poor Nikto. She can imagine both what a horrible loss of face this is -- and how messy the repercussions will be, as everyone frantically passes the buck to subordinates down the line, to avoid blame.

The Nikto sighs and nods. "Inside job was. Are as frustrated as you." He bares his teeth; this time it's clear to see this is not a smile. "Five enforcers, good friends, killed were. Thorn to retrieve ship vowed has. Is mark on good reputation of Ameil the Hutt of Tynnea." He bobs his head. "Aiyah, Ameil to speak with you has asked. Is very -- how say Corellians -- 'hands-on manager.'"

Freyja goes quite still, then says slowly, "They... killed people to escape?" The emotional side of her is aghast -- shoot them down! The pragmatic side of her dryly notes which ship it is that would be so shot, of course...

Zero says, "I'm sorry to hear about your loss, sir."

Freyja nods, belatedly collecting her manners, "Hai, I also am sorry. It is always..." she takes a slow breath, then continues, "-very hard to lose friends to violence."

The Nikto inclines his head to Zero. "Thanking you am, thanking you both am, but better feel will when culprits in Ameil's dungeons are, and ship retrieved is. Then can grieve." He stands. "Am not wishing to rush you, but Hutt's time precious is."

Zero says, "Of course. Is there anything else that we can do to help you?"

The Nikto shakes his head. "Neh, is nothing. Must now only aftermath weather. If will come with, please, will expedite audience Ameil with."

Zero nods. "Of course."

Freyja takes another slow breath, then says carefully, "Kuras Gendoj Jukun, do you mean right now?" She looks down at herself, then just shakes her head, "Well... if he wants now, I guess proper clothing isn't that important." She straightens, brushing her coat front smooth, and gives her companions a careful visual exam, "All right, let's go then." If her friends don't seem to mind, Freyja quietly brushes the back of Vakkal's ruff down with her fingers, where it's bristled slightly, and straightens Zero's collar a bit. She smiles ruefully, "Sorry, I tend to tidy when I'm nervous."

Zero says, "Don't worry about it; it's a minor point now..."

Jukun smiles wanly. "Will find dress code not concern is for Ameil. Er, apologies, and is 'she.'" He turns, and starts making his way quickly through the crowd. A few of the spacers there have guessed what happened, and are shaking their heads (or similar gestures) in commiseration.

Freyja nods and follows the Nikto, smiling quiet thanks to those spacers who seem commiserative. In this strange place she figures she'll do her best to make sure no one has cause for offense at them... especially while they're, in effect, trapped here with no ship. As they leave she turns and waves to the bard, "Hopefully we'll meet again tomorrow! Be well!" He nods and wishes the group well as they head out.

Freyja takes another breath and decides it probably won't be that bad. If the Hutt is so anxious to see them immediately, it's a good bet she'll shoo them out just as fast, after whatever pronouncement she has to make -- from sheer embarrassment at the loss of face, if nothing else.

Ameil's palace, or fortress, is surprisingly discreet, tucked into the lee of the valley's wall, lording it quietly over the Mos. It does not really become visible until one gets close, thanks to the cloying, standing rain. Most of the windows are dim, but there are a number which are brightly lit. Jukun leads the group through the front door with barely a glance to the Gamorreans to either side, but gets through the doorway only twenty yards before someone appears out of the shadows right in front of them.

She is arguably the tallest Twi'lek either of the two Humans have ever seen, standing six feet tall and having shimmering red skin, her lekku draped elegantly over her somewhat broad shoulders. She has a stern expression, matched by the slender black robes she wears. "Kyuto hongo vo shalnda, Jukun?" she says, in a deep, husky intonation.

The Nikto sketches a bow, and replies in Huttee, then says, "To Ameil I have brought them, as requested her by."

Freyja tilts her head thoughtfully, studying the Twi'lek from within the shadows of her hood, her hands tucked into the opposite sleeves across her front. Considering she just asked the Nikto what his business here is... this must be the majordomo -- an important person not to piss off here. She quietly 'murmurs' a mental translation to her friends, then 'looks' in the Force, to see if this person is at all Force-aware.

The Twi'lek is not Force-aware, but her azure eyes are bright nonetheless as she focuses on the group, narrowing slightly. "Indeed," she says in Huttee. In Aurabesh she says, "You are the ones whose ship was stolen, yes?"

Freyja nods politely. Zero also nods, "We are."

The Twi'lek nods slightly, gliding forward -- does she even have legs under that robe? -and says, again in that almost-intonation voice. "You have our commiseration, and assurances it will be retrieved. I am Wana Orfune, majordomo to Ameil the Hutt."

Zero bows politely. "An honor."

Freyja bows politely again, not really sure what to say, and wondering if they'll get to leave without even having to see the Hutt at all. "Thank you." Fhazil and Vakkal remain quietly in the background behind the other two, probably wishing that between them they could summon some sort of Darkside power that let all four of them be cloaked and invisible.

Orfune inclines her head slightly, her eyes seeming to memorize each feature on the four people. "Before coming before the Hutt, you must surrender your weapons." She looks to Fhazil. "Please surrender your concussion rifle." She looks to Vakkal, "Your blaster and... the other energy weapon you carry." To Freyja: "Your blaster." And to Zero, "Your blaster and vibroblade. They will be returned to you when you leave this building."

Zero nods, "Of course, I understand." He sends a quick mental message, Standard practice for Hutts projecting a genteel image. He kneels down and turns the case toward Wana, so she can see what's inside it, and draws the blaster, grip first, out of his coat. He sets it down in its place inside the case before closing the lid and latching it, then slides it across the floor with his foot.

Freyja reflects as Zero politely yields his requested weaponry. They must've scanned the group as they came through the door -- that'd explain picking up on the various energy cells of most of the weapons. Interesting that the Awatea lightsabers seem to be able to hide themselves. She tucks that bit of data away for later, then glances at Vakkal, checking to see if he's looking for direction or handling it smoothly on his own.

Freyja's mind flashes through data swiftly, analyzing... the Hutts never seemed to worry about Jedi. Some lightsabers do find their way into non-Jedi hands, too, although it's rare. Still, the Hutt's people shouldn't automatically think of Vakkal as a Jedi -- not here, and not as a bodyguard. Freyja's quietly fascinated also to realize it takes moderately sensitive sensors to detect power cells -- and the cells in the Awatea lightsabers should have been glowing like minor suns on the sensor screens! -and yet the Three-Dawn sabers did not... only Vakkal's. She smiles, politely surrendering her holstered blaster by laying it quietly on Zero's black case, then stepping back.

A couple of the Gammoreans shuffle forward to gather up the weapons. To their credit, they aren't drooling all over the place, and look reasonably well-behaved. Fhazil's rifle causes no sort of stir, and neither do Vakkal's or Freyja's blasters. The sword gets an arched, intrigued brow from Orfune. Vakkal's lightsaber, however, makes one of the Gammoreans squeal something in pidgin Huttee as he waddles over to the majordomo. A slender, gloved hand emerges from the robe to take hold of the lightsaber, as she studies it carefully. Those eyes flick over to the canid Sith for a moment, before she hands it back to the Gammorean, who bows and puts it with the other weapons.

She says simply, "Though it need not be said, this is Hutt space. We respect your role as scholars of the Republic, but the Republic authorities have no jurisdiction here." She pauses, as if to let that sink in or to receive an acknowledgement of some kind.

Freyja nods politely again, her face showing no expression. Zero says, "Naturally. As professional retainers, we make it a point to see that we are prepared for anything. But an audience with the honorable Ameil doesn't call for that kind of... preparation. We understand." Freyja smiles at Zero, pleased he has some idea of the proper things to say to a Hutt majordomo. Having never been cast in this role before, she's not sure how to respond. Probably best to keep it really close to the chest, unless Zero needs back-up.

That's not quite a ghost of a smile on the majordomo's lips -- it doesn't look like she's smile for all the spice on Kessel. "Good. This way, please. Ameil will see you immediately." She turns to go deeper into the palace, saying in Huttee, "Return to your duties, Jukun. Do not worry; we know where the leak took place, and you will be briefed on the morrow."

Zero nods and follows as bidden. Freyja smiles at the Nikto as she follows the Twi'lek, pleased to hear he probably won't be blamed. Jukun looks well relieved, and nods to the four as they are ushered into the palace.

Zero mentally reassures his companions, It's a game. Seem dangerous; seem like a useful businessperson. But not so bad that you seem like a challenge. You have to balance seeming out of everyone else's league with kowtowing to the Hutt. Hopefully it'll only be for a minute... Freyja's quiet mental agreement is relieved, and the others can 'feel' her fascinated curiosity at the situation.

The palace is mostly dimly-lit, though there is some light -- enough to see by and not trip on anything, at least. It is a fairly long and winding walk -- there is no straight shot from the entrance to here -- but finally they are ushered into a low-ceilinged, wide and broad room which has a square of bright light in the center -- apparently lighting panels set in the overhead. At the far end is a currently-empty dais, with a pair of what look to be half-nude (if moderately tastefully so) churls wearing somewhat subtle collars; one is Human, the other is Twi'lek. The Human looks a bit on the light-framed side, while the Twi'lek is rather buff and broad shouldered.

Freyja tilts her head thoughtfully, then smiles in quiet amusement. Guess the Hutt like the humanoid form. Her pragmatic tone replies with a mental grin, Can't blame 'em...

Orfune gestures for the four to remain at the edge of the illuminated area. "Wait here. Ameil will be with you shortly." She glides across the room to the side of the dais, not pausing even as one of her hands idly reaches out to run along the chin of the Twi'lek, before disappearing under her robe. It's about then the four note the Gammoreans flanking the doors, and the handful of other courtiers in the room, talking quietly and urgently amongst themselves.

Freyja watches in silent interest as the Twi'lek woman leaves. Interesting she feels she can touch the Hutt's pretty boys... that would indicate either an extremely favored position, or perhaps some sort of standing agreement already. Once the Twi'lek woman has departed, Freyja quietly listens as best she can to the murmuring courtiers. A bit worrisome they're talking so urgently... not a good sign, but probably to be expected, considering what an embarrassing loss of face the Hutt's just been slapped with.

Freyja can tell that the courtiers are very concerned about the theft, but also something else that happened in connection. A few are making vague murmurings about the Huttee word-equivalent of 'total war.' She quietly mentally whispers the information she's picked up from the courtiers to her friends, adding that it would appear a rival Hutt is making inroads of some sort on this Hutt's... pride? Terrain? Personnel? Something.

Zero responds mentally, A turf war. Heads will roll. Bad times.

Freyja nods once, slowly, settling into calm. Hope we can still return this way, when we're ready to do so...

Zero explains mentally, Consider 'total war' in this context something like a complete strategic saturation bombing. With money instead of fire.

Freyja murmurs almost dreamily in their heads, Messy... poor kurasai. Her eyes are unfocused on the present as she meditates silently, waiting peacefully for the Hutt.

Zero's mental reply is, That's how business is done here. Down and dirty and very final.

After a few minutes of waiting, the courtiers become somewhat tense, and seem to completely go quiet. There is a faint rustling in the overhead, and a surprisingly light, yet characteristically Hutt basso voice says, "Are you the ones whose ship was stolen? Ameil the Hutt apologizes. This has never happened before. "

Freyja's ice blue eyes re-focus, and as she mentally translates for her friends, she smiles and bows politely, "You are too kind, honored Ameil. We are without worry; we have been assured by your majordomo of its return."

Zero bows deeply. "You honor us with your concern, venerable Ameil."

Ameil's voice seems to come from... several places at once, from the overhead. "We are glad. It seems that in the course of... another escapade, the thieves mistook your ship for a getaway ship that had been promised to be put in place by their employer. They looked in the wrong place; found your ship. They killed a number of our people."

Freyja nods, continuing to serve as translator for her friends as she replies, "We are pained to hear of your loss, honored Ameil." She considers if it would be another loss of face for the Hutt if they offered to help... then decides it's more a natural reaction, even if it must be politely refused, "We would gladly help in ship retrieval, if we may."

Freyja is faintly surprised, both to hear the Hutt cares that people were lost, and that she's not actually present. She must be extremely paranoid currently -- quite fearful of her safety, in fact -- to not face people she's accidentally broken faith with. Hm... that would indicate also that her unhappiness with the personnel loss is mostly chagrin at property or face loss, not real aristoi concern. Freyja sighs quietly internally, silently and firmly reminding herself that this is not her world... and her standards don't apply here. She wonders what the other escapade is, but guesses it'd be quite impolitic to query as to what other disasters have befallen this already paranoid Hutt.

The Hutt's voice seems to finally coalesce into a single point... predictably right behind the group. "That is generous, Humanling," Ameil says amusedly. "More generous than we are used to. We may yet take you up on that, if the dashing Captain Thorn cannot retrieve your ship and our new potential... guests." The undertones of 'guests' make for decidedly unpleasant connotations.

Freyja doesn't bother turning unless she hears movement as well; she's not really interested in playing mind games with a Hutt. She wonders thoughtfully if any of them could trace the ship with the Force. It's not a skill she's heard of... but there's a first time for everything within the Force, she knows. Aside from that, she's not really sure how they can assist, if Thorn fails. Showing up an embarrassed Hutt and her angry enforcer isn't really high on Freyja's list of smart things to do today, as it is.

Fhazil doesn't seem quite as strong-willed as Freyja; else the little, "Eeep," he gives isn't entirely from seeing the Hutt. Ameil continues as she moves around the group. "We will find your ship, and punish them for not only their theft, but also killing our people, and their other acts." It's then that the Hutt finally comes into view, moving much, much faster than Freyja ever thought a Hutt would.

If Freyja remembers the legends of nagas from the early Balmorran culture, she knows they possibly originated with Hutts like Ameil. While not as slender or graceful as those beings of myth, Ameil is nevertheless atypical as she slides across the floor, her five-meter length coiling neatly upon the dais. She has the broad, flat face typical of Hutts, as well as the mottled, leathery skin typical of her species and the contortioning that only one seemingly without a solid spine seems capable of.

Zero is very, very still. I can never get used to seeing a Hutt move under their own power. How much muscle must be under there? Freyja watches with fearless fascination, although it's not clear if that lack of fear is due to ignorance or utter confidence. Unusual... she wonders if there are other things about this Hutt that are unusual as well. She hopes not -- she's on shaky enough ground as it is, considering all her knowledge of Hutts is based on vid-learning rather than metaphorical hands-on experience.

The Hutt seems to pause for a moment, studying the Humans, then rumbles softly. "Jukun will find you when we have found your ship. Again, accept our apologies. Orfune, please make arrangements with the hostel in the Mos. They are our guests." The Twi'lek simply inclines her head in acknowledgement.

Freyja murmurs politely, "If I may ask, were any of your people simply harmed, honored Ameil, rather than killed? I am a healer, of sorts." She has to ask, even though it prolongs their exposure to the Hutt somewhat. Part of her knows how unwise that is... but the scholar in her is quite fascinated! -and the Jedi in her won't let her not offer to help the innocent bystanders.

She wonders thoughtfully at the Hutt's apparent paranoia. Does Ameil really expect an attack here, in her very sanctum? Freyja idly wonders at an extension of that thought: if attackers burst in... should she and her friends help, or stay out of it? Interesting question...

The Hutt seems surprised by the offer. "Thank you, Human." Not "Humanling" this time -- "Unfortunately, no. The thieves were professionals." In this sense, the word 'professional' has clear meanings: professional killers.

Zero hms softly to himself, Interesting. Freyja nods, bowing slightly as she murmurs, "I am sorry to hear that." Being called Human or Humanling bothers her not at all, however. After all, to the huge Hutt she is indeed diminutive.

Ameil rumbles softly, "As were we. Some of them had been in our service for many years, and they will be sorely missed. But we look after every being in our employ. Their killers will be punished; their families cared for."

Freyja blinks, genuinely startled to hear that -- then smiles sincerely for the first time since entering the keep, her demeanor quietly pleased, "I am happy to hear that, honored Ameil."

"We could do no less. We Hutts have the reputation for being gangsters, but we merely do business... differently than in the Republic. We keep our word, and those who show loyalty to us receive loyalty in turn."

Freyja smiles a bit self-consciously, gracefully shrugging one shoulder, "I am scholar first, healer second, honored Ameil. I am always gratified to learn of new ways, and to find others care about their people too. I meant not any slight." In an odd way, she understands. It's not unlike how Staster explained the way the underworld works to Freyja, back on Coruscant. There is indeed a sort of honor amongst thieves -- it is the currency of the underworld -- it could not survive without it. She adds politely, "Let us not take up any more of your valuable time, please, aiyah?"

"No offense was taken, Human scholar. Good fortune to you." Orfune is beside the group immediately, indicating the doorway. "Come," she says in Aurabesh. "I will inform the hostel to prepare a good suite of rooms for you." Freyja bows politely again to the Hutt, then leaves with internal relief. That wasn't too bad, thank goodness. Zero bows, before following the majordomo out.

Orfune escorts the group to the doorway of the palace, whereupon she points out the hostel in the Mos below, before evaporating into the shadows again. As they leave, the Gammoreans at the door dutifully return the group's varied weapons.

Freyja raises an eyebrow, then heads in that direction. Once they're out of earshot of the keep, she murmurs, "Whew! Not too terrible, I think. I wonder if they're paying for our rooms?" She adds dryly, "Let's hope Captain Thorn well-balances his desire for revenge and restored honor... against utterly destroying the Eclipse..."

Zero says, "It'd be an even bigger loss of face to six the ship now. I think he'll be gentle; ion weapons, to disable the power plant."

Freyja says, "It would? Thank goodness for that too, then." She sighs quietly, then adds a bit morosely, "Let's hope they'll spring for repairs too, then..."

Fhazil murmurs, "They've got a lot to live up to, now. Apparently this Hutt has quite the reputation to maintain. I'm surprised she didn't express more curiosity. Like about our names..."

Vakkal adds quietly, "I would also check these rooms they're arranging for, for listening and surveillance devices."

Freyja glances over her shoulder at Fhazil, "Our names? Why? Surely she could find that out easily enough from the Nikto?" She nods quietly to Vakkal.

Zero says, "The ion weapons usually don't leave permanent damage. Restart and recalibrate the drives and the ship should be fine. I'm betting that the thieves won't know how to use the hull realignment system to best effect. That'll be an advantage for Thorn."

Freyja adjusts the holstered blaster on her hip and adds thoughtfully, "I found it interesting the Three-Dawn sabers didn't light up like miniature suns when we were scanned. Curious, neh?" She adds to Zero, "Really? Oh, good. Looks like this may not be a total loss then... what a relief."

Zero says, "Yeah, ion guns are pretty standard for in-system interdictors. They don't leave scars, as it were, and they're effective stoppers."

Fhazil nods, "She could, yes, that's true... and he would have noted we're from a Republic university, so... maybe I'm just being paranoid." He grins. "Old habit."

Freyja smiles at Fhazil, "Neh, not a problem. Did you notice how paranoid she must be currently? It's almost as if she expects attack within her keep itself, hey? How shaky must her hold be if she truly fears that?" She considers, then adds a bit worriedly, "I hope that's not the case, though... her people will suffer if she can't keep firm hold."

Zero says, "It may simply be standard procedure for her, though. Hutts are nothing if not cautious."

Freyja murmurs, half under her breath, "Poor people. Why can't they be left out of these things?" She's silent for a bit, then ruefully shakes her head, "Neh, I already know... they're fighting for what they believe in."

Fhazil mms, "I don't know if it's paranoia on her part. She may have been wondering how we'd react to a Hutt that skinny."

Freyja blinks at Zero, then at Fhazil, "Really? Good heavens... that really is paranoid! What, was she worried we'd la-" her voice trails off as she realizes it might hurt as much for a Hutt to be laughed at, as it hurts her -- even though the Hutt can take a far nastier revenge on those that laughed than Freyja'd ever been able to accomplish. Quietly she murmurs, "Never mind..." She considers a moment, then grins ruefully, "If we're worried about surveillance, we should check our weaponry too."

The group soon arrives at the hostel, to find that the suite of rooms is indeed rather good -- for a hostel. A leisurely search of the rooms reveals a handful of surveillance devices -- listening devices, mostly; nothing as complex as a visual sensor. The weapons, at least, appear to be untampered with. Zero smiles, sending mentally, Standard procedure. In this part of space it's almost an insult not to have your room bugged.

Freyja will make sure they go out for dinner, since she wishes to bounce her idea concerning the bard and the Sedraki slaves off her friends. She explains what she's considering, then asks, "What do you think? I think it covers all the bases, will effectively point the finger at the Black Wind Tong, and will get hopefully all the Sedraki off this planet. Did I miss anything?"

Zero says, "When the Dragon City ministers find out about what happened... they will likely show up in an official capacity. Someone will come to find them."

Freyja says, "Good, that's exactly what we want. Will you write the message to them? You know better than I what will stir them up into immediate action, and who precisely to write."

Zero says, "Of course. I'll make sure the right words get said. They'll send a few soldiers, a few medics, a few bureaucrats." He smiles, "They'll come like thieves on Tynnea, and then the fanfare will hit back on Sedrak. Even the ministers who aren't wholehearted believers that their place is to look out for the citizenry won't be able to resist good publicity like this."

Freyja sighs in relief, "Thank goodness. All right, then... I'll ask Reykjasen if he'd like to be a proper bard and carry a neutral message for me, and we'll get him to Roakkana soonest." Her smile is tired but pleased as she gently squeezes Zero's hand, "Thank you, Zero. I'll try healing your Sedraki friends tomorrow, if you don't mind, though... today's been a bit... wearing." Her tone is a bit rueful on that last comment.

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Last modified: 2002-Jul-16 16:14:54

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