2008-03-28 - The Price of Pride

<FONT color="#66CCFF"> Tatooine: Mos Eisley – Cantina </FONT>
A darkened alcove opens up into the notorious Mos Eisley Cantina and it is easy to see where it got its seedy reputation. In the centre of the main room squats a circular bar, behind which stands a gruff looking human; presumably the bartender. He is lightly silhouetted by bright and gaudy lighting behind him that masked his features somewhat, which perhaps is intentional owing to the nature of most of the patrons. Around the rest of the bar area can be seen odd devices which are used to make a variety of alien beverages.
The sound of lively, if rather labored music comes from a stage to the left of the entrance, where a small band of aliens are plying their trade. Beside them a board informs patrons of the upcoming entertainment schedule for the week, though more than one of the names have been hastily crossed out.
The rest of the main room is a series of booths and tables that are cut into the ringing wall, and there the light seems dim indeed. No lamps shine upon the alcoves, and except for the smoky second-hand light that seeps into them they are quite ark and dingy. At the door a large sign reads: NO DROIDS, and nearby a tall, shadowed figure seems to watch the entrance as if ready to enforce that rule.
((If someone who was there before me could add the stuff I missed, that would be awesome! <3 Sho))
"I have received intelligence that Kerrick murdered dozens of sentients on Paxo," Effie says, "when he blew up the hospitals there." Her gold eyes are ice-cold. "Therefore, the people of Paxo have offered a thirty-five thousand credit bounty for the delivery of his corpse. Twenty-five if he's still alive when delivered. I am a merciful girl, but when my people demand justice I must step aside."
Fry says, "You Paxo? You offer bounty, or it 'maybe' offered on Paxo?" Fry looks...well, like a Rodian. Expressionless!
Koobis says, "Bounties is good! But, usually go through Hutt Lords, yeah? Also, Koobis take bounty on guild, Koobis is guild's new bounty. Way it goes. You talk Hutt Lords, they kick Bad Criminal Man out of guilds, we find, bring to you, big-money okay dealie. Everyone happy, except maybe big bad criminal man, yeah?"
Baaz pauses for a time, listening then with a very long chug of his drink, he turns slightly to Dassead, his robes lifting at the shoulders in a shrug "Thick of mind, perhaps?" he muses before turning back to the interesting business at hand.
Fry says, "Yes yes, Koobis Fry not bounties. We just make sure good on all sides."
Dassead raises a brow at that, "Dasssead hasss not knowledgessss of thisss! Huntersss here only'sss momentsss ago'sss!" He hisses in frustration. Again the scaly head shakes lightly. He had just watched thirty-five thousand credits walk out the door, how his heart is breaking.
Dassead looks to Baaz and simply sighs, still stuck on Kerrick sitting across from him and simply leaving. His orange eyes look to the Gand's, oh how easy it would have been.
In an augmented voice the armored soldier finally speaks up, "The bounties go through Hutt lords huh? Good racket then that your boss has. You just heard him tell the good General Dassead here that he was no Hutt slave. So I guess even if the bounty came through the Hutts he wouldn't pass it on to y'all his guild members would he? You have the leader of Paxo right here offering the bounty of thirty-five thousand credits to YOU and you would disrespect her so callously?"
Euphemia looks smug. "Well, gentlemen, it's not every day you pass up forty thousand credits. It's good to see that there are still sentients in this galaxy who are too loyal to take any bribe for any reason. I congratulate you on your moral fiber!"
Fry says, "We take bounty if not bad for us."
A shadow twitches along a wall, a small sound of rustling cloth, and that's all that precedes Rem as she slinks into the cantina and makes herself visible again to the casual observer. And, then she's all smiles at the mention of bounties and a certain hunter. "Another ten thousand, from me. Still up to anyone who can bring me his head," she chimes in, approaching the others.
Euphemia says, "In other words, you don't think you could make it work. Fifty thousand credits? Nobody passes that kind of money up unless they couldn't win it anyway. Fair enough. If you meet someone who can, you let me know, you hear?"
Koobis agrees, "Hutt Lord kick criminal out of guild, if accept bounty. Then he big, fat target. Can't spend forty thousand credits if dead, because Hutts mad at Koobis. Or forty million, even."
Fry says, "Maybe I talk Koobis outside." Fry gestures. "Koobis."
“The Brood issss all that'sss matterinsss to Dasssead Lady Admiral'sss. Besssidesss, Dasssead havein'sss never'sss liked hunter Kerrick." He sighs again, more then few hissing nasties being muttered under his breath.
Turning his T-shaped visor to the lady and then the cloaked man. As the shadow speaks he chuckles, "Lady Admiral, these two Rodians. As they work for the terrorist Kerrick, does that not make them members of his terrorist organization and therefore enemies of Paxo?"
Baaz nods at the armored man's words as well as the new arrival's "This good soldier speaks truth. I would definitely bring this fine woman's offer 60,000.." Baaz coughs a bit to emphasize "Is a large amount."
Euphemia smiles serenely. "Sixty thousand," she says. "We could just post this bounty, my friends. And see what happens."
Fry talks with the other Rodian briefly, and very quietly, in their own language.
Koobis agrees, "You post bounty. All legal, hutts kick out of guild. Brave rodian hunters bring in vile criminal mastermind."
Fry says, "Who know what rodian!" Fry shrugs and holds his hands out as though to suggest it might be anyone.
"No problemsss with Huttsss." The Trandoshan lifts a fist to pat his armored chest. "Dasssead repressssent Hutsss here." His thin lizard lips tighten in a smirk. "Huttsss offerinsss fifteen thousssandsss. Makesss it seventy-fivessss."
Euphemia smiles serenely. "The Brood is the voice of Hutt power," she declares. "Seventy-five thousand credits? That's a lot of money, you know. You must really love Kerrick if it doesn't tempt you."
Fry looks at the Trandoshan, then back at Euphemia. "Hutts declare bounty, maybe somebody hunt, fix problem.”
A confident little sashay in robes and shadows puts Rem near the others. She pushes her dark shades up into her hair, displaying with some satisfaction the gaping hole of an eye socket that used to be her left eye. Her remaining eye twinkles with mischief. "Ooh, seventy-five, now? For that money, I would hunt him myself," she jokes.
Koobis says, "If, keep quiet, Koobis and Fry, maybe we check with Lord Rooga, see he agree? No need for posting then, keep quiet, so vile criminal mastermind no hear about it, yeah?"
"Surely you can understand why the Hutts wouldn't want to do that," Effie says scornfully. "Rodians are known for a certain slow quality, but nobody is that slow. Rogue bounty hunters are bad for business."
Koobis speaks and Effie seems pleased. She nods. "That's a little more like it. Consult the Hutts on the sly. Cerebra, Rooga, Jabba. See what they think. They don't have to front a dime."
Fry nods a bunch. "Rooga maybe say bounty all good. Maybe he tell rodians all good, some rodian go get bad man."
Euphemia says, "You have a week with this info. If you haven't taken the job by then, it goes public."
Koobis says, "Okay. Thank you mighty lade for good deal and offers! We hope you satisfied with Rodian hunting!" Koobis says, "Also mighty lady. Koobis not so good with the basic sometimes."
"I hope I'm satisfied too," says Effie, "because if this turns out to Kerrick's advantage, it won't turn out to yours." She smiles sweetly. Seeing Rem appear, she beams at her.
Fry says, "Much mistake times! Not mean bad stuff, only if say it clearly."
Euphemia says, "I'm glad we've risen above misunderstandings and worked to advance intercultural communication, my dears."
Baaz says, "I wouldn't suggest letting this meeting be found out..."
Koobis beams, "Is nature of biz. You guys, not here, very boring cantina, nobody to talk to, no deals to-day." Fry says, "Yep yep, you all very boring!"
Euphemia gives Fry a kindly look. "Be a doll," she says, "fetch me more milk from the bar."
For a moment, a very sly grin crosses Rem's face at the notion of boring, but she bites her lips. Instead, she contents herself to giving the assembled folk a nod of greeting, though her calm facade does nearly crack again when she greets Euphemia, that dastardly grin tugging at the corners of her lips. 
Fry walks over to the bar. "Haha! Milk bounty big, too?" he asks before pointing at lady and telling the bartender, "Milk lady."
Baaz turns slightly toward Rem, nodding to her in greeting. "Glad to see you made it." he rasps.
Fry gets the milk delivered to the lady finally. He goes back to stand around next to the other rodian.
Euphemia is brought more milk, which she sips. "Rem my angel," she says. "Be a doll and give me a lovely smile."
Rem steals a free seat from a nearby table and plops herself down beside Euphemia, winking her bad eye closed. "Ahh, my apologies, my lady. I will cover it for you." she fumbles in her robes for her eye patch, while her cheek twitches from the strain of keeping the hole closed. An awkward moment later, eye patch donned triumphantly, she beams around the table.
"We will have to get you a replacement," Effie says. "An eye that can see through walls. You'd like that, Rem my doll."
Koobis watches the imperials thoughtfully. The squeaky, annoying voice remains quiet for now.
Fry watches the imperials, and stays quiet as well.
"I got a little delayed, passing through Republic space." Rem says cheerily. "It's good to see you all again. Especially with such nice dealings on the table." Then she shakes her head at Effie, almost sadly. "It's a sacrifice. I will have nothing replace it, for it must always remind me of my mistakes, and the lives they cost."
Baaz moves to seat himself, the slender man shifting to make himself comfortable. "This planet is so dry." he remarks to the air "Like a slow cooking oven.."
Koobis says, "Buy desert gear! Very shady. keep skin, not too dry, hunh?"
Effie looks sadly to Rem. "There will come a time," she says, "when your mistakes will be washed away completely, my dear, and nothing remembered but victories. When that time comes, maybe you will have mercy on your lost eye." Then she smiles. "But you're so imposing. I like it."
Fry says, "Koobis know much! Desert gear help lots."
Baaz nods to that "Very intimidating. I have seen some imposing sights, but none that combine lethality and beauty that is currently present."
"While here, you all simply /must/ try Jawa Juice, fresh. It'll put a heat in ya like no desert sun ever could," Rem encourages excitedly. "I will buy rounds for everyone! Especially the brave Rodians. Two rounds for them!"
Euphemia smiles at Rem's eagerness to drink. "The Warlord," she says, "has told me that our penultimate enemy is in our grasp. I must proceed to Merr Sonn soon," she adds. "But maybe I'll have a glass."
Koobis squeaks, "Hurray! Drink juice of jawa!"
Fry squeaks, "Hurray! Jawa juice!"
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> A rough male voice says, "Rem. How nice of you to visit. And with the Lady Admiral too."
"A round, over here!" Rem waves to the bartender. Then, turning back to the other assembled Blacks, she nods, "Just one will keep ya flyin' safely. Blame the flushed cheeks on the sun, should the Warlord ask. Or something else." Her lip can't help but curl slightly.. briefly... as her comsys goes off. She narrows her eye dangerously. "Company," a little whisper. And then she brings the comlink to her lips.
Effie's eyes gleam. She says, "Ahh," sliding to her feet. "The man is at the door, huh? We've got company?"
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) Rem says, "Hunter. How lovely to hear your voice again. Should I duck, or will you fight me fairly this time?"
Fry says, "Koobis, me not hear right. Where drinky-drink?"
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) A rough male voice says, "This is war, Rem. Everything is fair. But I tire of it."
Koobis says, "I dunno. Me no bar-tender."
Fry says, "Hmph!"
Baaz looks between the lady Admiral and the Wing Commander. The man reaches into the wide sleeve of his cloak shifting his torso as he seems to grab at something underneath his robes, slowly drawing whatever it is out deftly.
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) Rem says, "Then, take your shot, and pray you get lucky, Hunter. But, aim for the Admiral, and any respect I might have had for you is forfeit."
Euphemia sits calmly down, and says, "With you at my side, soldiers of the Black Imperium, I need neither weapons nor armor. You are my weapons. You are my armor."
<FONT color="#FFFF00">COMBAT:</FONT> Baaz wields his BlasTech DL-50 Blaster Pistol.
Fry says, "Koobis, we go hang out next to bar."
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) A rough male voice says, "I had hoped that Alderaan would have taught the Admiral a lesson in mortality. I am willing to parlay so that all of us break even,, Rem. She would not hear of it. Convince her otherwise and it will be worth your while."
"Protect the Admiral," Rem hisses, hand over the communication device. Her eye darts around the cantina, searching the shadows, windows. Finding nothing, she speaks into the comlink again.
Koobis agrees, "Let's go find drink, haha!"
Fry moves to the bar with Koobis. They stand way at the end.
Koobis simply gets on the other side of the bar, "Hi Mister Bar Tender!"
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) Rem says, "An interesting offer, Hunter. But, why should I-- we-- trust your words, you who prefers such dirty tactics in warfare?"
Baaz peers back at the rodians "Can we confirm they did not alert him?" he asks calmly "And if we confirm they DID alert him, which falls first?"
Fry says, "Yes yes, hi bartender!"
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) A rough male voice says, "The Blacks have used just as dirty tactics, Rem. I should be just as wary of you. But the offer is simple: We end this feud and I reunite you with your family."
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) A rough male voice says, "And by 'we' I mean the Blacks and the entirety of the Guild. Not just you and I."
Koobis replies, "Ha ha, have seventy five thousand pretty good reasons not to talk to nobody. But you think maybe not, that okay too."
<FONT color="#FFFF00">COMBAT:</FONT> Koobis wields his BlasTech Raphael Mk.122 Cannon.
Fry says, "Koobis joke ha-ha! We not help anyone without good pay."
Baaz shrugs, "Very true, my friends." he again rasps calmly "For your 75 thousand reasons, i expect if a sniper shot rips into this cantina you will find the source and help me kill it. Otherwise, put away the toy."
The one-eyed woman lets out a furious hiss, quickly turning to the shadows she had left just shortly and snarls. "If the Rodians so much as twitch in the direction of the Admiral, end them!" There's a muffled murmur, several clicks, and the sharp sound of force pikes activating. Rem laughs a little, into the comlink, and continues her one-sided conversation.
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) Rem says, "<a short, bitter laugh> Don't dare bring my family into this. Their safety has been assured, but yours, not nearly as much, if you continue this. /You/ brought the fight to us, Hunter."
The Lady Admiral folds her hands on her lap and says, "If he's in some sort of sniper nest, Wing Commander, then he is not going to be moving freely."
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) A rough male voice says, "I am not threatening your family. I am offering a service."
"If someone.. could slip out. Unnoticed. There, aren't many spots where we would be visible from.." Rem whispers urgently to the rest. "But.. he sees all of us ---" She breaks off as her comsys goes off again. This time her reply comes with a slam of her fist on the table surface and the crash of her chair as she rises, face flushed in fury. 
"Well," Effie says blandly, "someone should slip off to the spaceport, then, and bombard the city. We're inside. A laser strafing won't harm us any."
Having watched the commotion in silence, the armored figure now rises and moves a bit away from the bar. Reaching over his shoulder he pulls out his repeater and holds it in his hands. He smirks behind his T-visor as he waits to see what develops. If violence does break out, the Rodians will be the ones that Abraham targets first as they would be the cause. Let's hope for them, that no blaster bolt is fired for if it is, Constantine does not care if they were involved or not. Their boss taking the shot now would mean they did to this armored man, and their lives would be forfeit.
<FONT color="#FFFF00">COMBAT:</FONT> Abraham Constantine wields his Merr Sonn TM8 Repeater.
Koobis gains new and exciting psychic powers, "Me become jedi!"
Raising his repeater to his shoulder, Abraham points it to the Rodian Koobis, "A Jedi? Really? I hear they have a bounty on Jedi on Nar Shaddaa. Perhaps better to kill you now and collect that bounty."
Koobis says, "Ha ha, you start shooting rodian, when sniper have admiral in sights? You maybe not so bright."
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) Rem says, "You're quite ballsy, Hunter, to offer such a thing, when you /tried to kidnap my son/! Whatever you have to say for yourself is meaningless! <a deep breath> Tell me, quickly, before I lose my nerve, what you want. Four words or less, Hunter."
Quirking his head to the side his T-visor looks on the Rodian, "What makes you think I care what happens to the Lady Admiral? And if I gather correctly, that means the Hunter out there is because of you and to protect you. That means you have betrayed us all already. Perhaps I don't give a damn what happens to anyone but me. And a Jedi bounty would pay me quite well, Rodian."
Euphemia sips from her glass of milk with consummate calm. 
"Rem, my dear," she says very placidly, "Whatever deal he offers, he doesn't mean it. I offered him the chance to make peace with us some weeks ago, and he refused. I offered again, and he refused. I do suspect he means to kill us. Therefore, he doesn't have a clear shot at me; or he'd have taken it by now. Send troops out there and kill him."
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) A rough male voice says, "Break even. End feud."
Baaz maintains his position at the table, his blaster firmly in his grasp. "My life is yours admiral, request it and it shall be done." Baaz glances toward the armored man he adds for the rodians' benefit "He has no care for us it is true. Unless you vow to stop the Huntrer, you will assuredly die."
Fry slips his blaster out of his holster, looking at the people threatening him and Koobis.
<FONT color="#FFFF00">COMBAT:</FONT> Fry wields his BVR-5X Handblaster.
Rem laughs, coldly. "End the feud, he says. I didn't know we had one." Like the other Blacks, she's wormed out a blaster of her own, sleek, comfortable, customized for efficiency. Her jaw works as she swallows and gives the Hunter his reply. 
<FONT color="#FFFF00">COMBAT:</FONT> You wield your Modified Merr Sonn DSX Blaster Pistol.
Euphemia smiles placidly. "Really, violence is not the answer," she says, drinking her milk. "Rem, your Vanixian friends have a special way of persuading people, don't they? And so nicely dressed. If I were two years younger I would have such a crush."
The smirk behind his mask now becomes one of pure joy as Abraham begins to side step towards the other side of the bar. The other Rodian drawing his weapon is not missed but it is not focused on either. "Oh. I know who will lose biggest. The one with the smoking blaster burn in their chest will be the one to lose. Do you want to roll the dice and think it will be you, alien? I do not care what happens to me beyond this day. I fight with honor. You do not, as you have tried to betray the people here. It would be a pleasure to kill you myself." A quick glance is spared to Baaz and then to the other Rodian before his attention goes to Koobis totally.
<FONT color="#FBB917">COMSYS:</FONT> (single channel) Rem says, "The Lady has offered you peace in the past, and you spat on it. We know how much your words of loyalty and peace are worth... Are you a gambling man, Hunter? Which of us holds the Pure Sabbac, this day? You?"
Baaz says, "My friends, each of us is more deadly than your 'boss'. "Choosing his side.. is the losing choice.""
Koobis says, "Koobis want side, Koobis sign up with brood."
Fry says, "Who say we choose side? You wave guns at us, no give us chance. Blame us big fight before fight."
Baaz says, "Then walk out of this cantina, and kill him, collect your seventy-five thousand."
Koobis says, "You see Lord Rooga around here for me to ask first? That was deal."
Lowering his rifle just a little Abraham chuckles and then speaks in that augmented voice, "I give you my word. You put your weapons away and I will do the same. Prove to me you had nothing to do with it. But should your boss take a shot, you will not move you will not speak."
"Easier to apologize than to ask permission," Euphemia says haughtily. "Lord Rooga does not control a fleet of six battleships and an army of twenty thousand Clones. I do."
Fry says, "Yes yes, we already talk this much, chat Hutt first."
Oh, yes, the Vanixian friends are ever so imposing, especially when they emerge from their shadows, force pikes at humming softly with the deadly energy. Rem adds, then, "The better choice. But, he is sneaky, that Hunter, he'll be hidden." But she remains standing, her good eye fixed only on the Admiral, gun lowered to her side. "Lord Rooga can overlook technicalities. He is very kind, in that way." 
Fry says, "You ask more, same answer."
Koobis says, "Apologizing to hutts, not so easy, when you no have six battleships and twenty thousand clones. You let me borrow maybe?"
Fry says, "Yes, people apologize easy, rodians not so much. No big ships and clone."
His rifle raises just a bit more now, "The Lady Admiral here can field a much larger force than Rooga the Hutt. Kerrick is no ally of the Brood so they would not go against you. Perhaps, if you do this for the Lady Admiral, she might be willing to offer you safety in the Black Imperium. But that is not offered to cowards."
Euphemia says, "My dear Rodians, I am the Hegemina of Paxo, a notable guarantor of sentient rights. I protect my allies. All know the lengths to which I go." She rises. "Nevertheless," she says, walking toward the door. "Time is being wasted here. Call the fool's bluff. If he thinks he can shoot Euphemia Bellamy, let him take a shot. Exposing his position, he will die instantly in our counterattack."
Koobis says, "Four on two, all more deadly than boss-hunter-man he call us cowards, haha! Big funny. Maybe you go, leave stinky desert planet for nice Praxo where there are laws and rules and not-so-much sunshine. Leave desert for rodians and tusken. Since that all we rate."
Euphemia says, "Maybe I will make this dustball a colony of Paxo."
Koobis says, "Yes, good idea, bring money and jobs and free slaves and whatever, very exciting. Dunno why you bother but OK, is your money to spend."
Fry says, "Maybe ask Hutts for bounty /and/ Hutt planet. Who know, they make big party, say hi."
Abraham now raises his weapon fully towards the Rodian. "If this is a planet without laws, I should just strike you down now. And then go after your boss. No need to leave you here alive to attack my rear. Better to have my bases covered."
Baaz rises as well, trying to stay within easy distance of the Admiral, his blaster swaying on his index finger as he shifts weight in the effort of standing. Baaz shakes his head "No matter..." He eyes the Rodians "You are out a fortune, my friends."
Fry says, "We no get paid shoot butts."
Cerebra the Hutt slithers into the Cantina, a Force Pike propped over one shoulder and a bleeding woman slumped on his back. He holds the woman firmy with his off-hand as he slithers, making his way to the bar.
Koobis waves cheerfully from behind the bar, "Hallo, O Illustrious Hutt Lord! Is big standoff, many disagreements. Hutts run guild, we in guild, we do what you say."
Euphemia Bellamy stands by the door with a glass of milk in her hand and a resolute gleam in her eye. She seems calm enough. But her supporters are armed.
Fry says, "Much angryface all over cantina."
The woman on Cerebra's shoulder looks to be slightly pregnant and bleeding profusely. She almost looks on the verge of death itself. She murmurs random words about doctors and obstetrics... But she's obviously about to pass out and needs help.
The hunter Kerrick strides in after the Hutt General, his shoulders heaving after some recent exertion. He's oblivious, flat out oblivious, as he marches right past Euphemia, almost shoving his way through, in pursuit of the previous pair... and he tosses a disgusting-looking sack at the woman's feet.
Euphemia follows Kerrick with her eyes. Eyes that have lost everything but a savage golden light. She smiles.
Cerebra looks around the room. As the woman stops struggling so much, he takes off his massive helmet, unsealing it with a hiss. His hideous face dribbles drool and snot, and he smiles around to all the hefted blasters.
"I hope Droi ootmian peedunkee chowbasa. Wanga wamma me a winkee. A uba apenkee howdunga. Tonta pawa," he bellows.
I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Someone get me a drink. A bottle of whiskey. I'm parched. 
Koobis and the other Rodian are behind the bar. He reaches down and sets one one on the counter, "Here you go, illustrious Hutt lord. Your female seem damaged, I use medkit, to make sure not die?"
Rem hasn't moved from her overturned chair, and the table. One hand holds a gun, the other, still, a comlink to her face. The new arrivals draw her attention. Her eye shifts and she turns to face the hunter, cocking her head to side and sneering. 
Abraham remains in his covered position, his blaster still aimed at the Rodian Koobis. He notices the arrival of the Hutt and the Hunter, but he does not care right now. The T-visor of his helmet is focused on his threat.
"Fetch the Hutt a bottle of Whyren," Effie calls out with a sniff to the bartender. "This podunk bar should have at least one bottle. You /do/ get high rollers in here every now and then. And another for me. We will have a drink."
Fry gets out a bottle and pours a drink, the two rodians working well together. "Yes yes, here whiskey. Lots angryface go to ha-ha face. But as rodians says, too much ha-ha, pretty soon boo-hoo."
"Whyren," Effie says again, forbiddingly. "Not common rotgut. The Hutt is a sentient of refined tastes. And I for my part shall not be insulted with inferior whiskey."
Baaz stands just off Euphemia's left shoulder again, blaster dangling from his hand. Baaz bows slightly to Cerebra, his cowl following the hunter as he enters. The silent pile of robes waits...
Euphemia glances at the woman on Cerebra's shoulder and murmurs ...
The gold-brown blonde thrown over the Hutt's shoulder lets out a soft wail. "My daughter," she gasps out. "please.... someone.." her voice trails even as she ineffectually struggles to get free. This of course, only causes her to bleed more. "Help me... Pregnant..."
Cerebra turns to Koobis, and levels his Force Pike at the bottle of piss-whiskey that they have brought out. He fires a Force bolt at it, and the bottle explodes.
"Smak pawa wankee na! Kava droi Eniki!" then he turns to Effie, his smile sending a fine line of drool dribbling over the scabbarous growths on what passes for a neck. He slithers towards her, laughing, "Euphemia Me! Droi dwana nudd killee yocola, gopptula doma!"
You heard the woman! We want Whyren! Euphemia Bellamy! It's wonderful to see you, my dear! 
Familiar voices reaches Kerrick's ears and he whirls around to take in the room at a glance... Finally his eyes settle upon the two Rodians, Fry and Koobis, and his brow furrows, crinkling up enoughto peak down through his visor. 
"Come /here/," the hunter says to the pair. His voice drops to a dangerously low, even tone, a sound that has not issued forth from his modulator before, as he eyes the pair.
Fry says, "Yes yes, Whyren. Where Whyren? Me no work here, just get behind bar when man wave gun at Koobis and Fry."
Euphemia says, "Yocola poy be yatuka a waffmula howdunga coo your haku, Gopptula? Choppa tella a moulee-rah eniki. rundee, pateessa."
Why do you have a pregnant woman on your back, Cerebra? It seems a little ... well, licentious.
Koobis roots around behind the bar, "Sure, sure, great and mighty Hutt lord, Koobis find, yes. Fry, you look in other cabinet." Perhaps wisely, the actual bartender is long gone. The bottle clink as the rodian roots around, "Come soon, hunter-boss-man, when Hutt Lord not so thirsty!"
Fry looks through another cabinet up behind the bar. He finds the right drink and pulls it down. "Koobis, Hutt-juice here! Pour bad juice out, we replace good juice! Wait, get new glass, no leave bad taste."
Cerebra the Hutt laughs in reply to Effie, "Me tagwa coo? Pawa choo a pankpa tee-tocky, shag jee wamma Nudd tonta che bedwana chawa jedda bunky. Lickmoomoo kava, ulwan joppay gopptula dwana panwa, jee-jee ne Howdunga Eniki."
Is it pregnant? It seemed a little swollen, but to us Hutts these things look all the same. Of course, she cannot compare to you, my sweet Lady Admiral.
Koobis finds a pair of mugs, relatively clean, and thunks them on the counter, "Here, good booze, Whyren. Fry hand very steady, no spillings."
Abraham watches the Hunter out of the corner of his eye then he notices as he commands them. Laughing outright through the speaker he lowers his rifle a bit to point more towards the floor, "Well Rodians. He commands you like you are a pair mere lap dogs. Is this what it is like to be in the Guild. I had thought of applying to join. Now I must reconsider if I want to be the Hunter's slave dog or not.!"
Fry fills both the mugs up almost all the way. "Much drink, much Hutt! Represent big Hutt power!"
The woman passes out as soon as she is tossed into the chair, the last of her breath crumpling from her lungs. She almost seems ready to slip into the floor.
Euphemia laughs a silvery little laugh. "Chowbasa, Che," she says, "I howdunga keepuna. Joppay inkabunga pankpa chowbasa badda patogga be. Murishani apenkee choppa jee me a makacheesa sleemo pawa jeedai choo hoohah moocha wamma tonka ulwan achuta na wata. Pateessa gopptula a jewz tee-tocky kava. Doma chuba dwana bolla chaa moulee-rah nobata chik? Yoka uba teesaw bedwana waffmula dunko buttmalia coo copah cheeska. Lorda koochu yafullkee gocola nudd yocola che konchee?"
Oh, Cerebra. I am flattered. But let's keep things military between us. It's so rare to find a sentient whose strategic vision is up to the task of conquering star systems. We are a very small fraternity. What are you planning to do with her? She seems to think she's in need of medical help. Would you like to sell her to me?
As Abraham says his bit, a shade positions itself near Abraham. One moment, it's there, the other, well, it's gone.
Cerebra the Hutt smiles that winning smile of his and leans over the table, pointing a thick finger at Effie, "Oh, Effie my dear! You'll give in to my wiles one of these days!"
At her commentary on the woman's state, he turns to look at the slumped figure, "Oh, don't worry. Bacta heals all wounds. No, I need to keep this one for myself. I was just going to write Hunter Kerrick a data-check for her. She's a... friend of a friend."
The dealings of the Rodians, Hutts, and Blacks are lost on Rem. Even the sight of the bloody woman. Her eye is on the Hunter alone, and the rage there is indescribable in the dwindling light of the cantina. The hand around her blaster tightens.
Cerebra the Hutt looks to Rem idly, "Yocola che wankee chaa nibobo a ne eniki? H'chu yoka tonka killee be, buttmalia?"
What are her panties in a bunch over? What is going on here, anyway?
Euphemia smiles tranquilly. "Coo yocola a jee-jee chaa Droi," she says, performing her own scolding finger-wiggle at the Hutt. "Tee-tocky bolla. Nobata say yoka ulwan a pawa, tonta I gocola inkabunga. Chaa moulee-rah poy bargon chawa coo, chowbasa peedunkee. Badda eniki copah tella choppa yafullkee toma jewz. Wata wanga achuta nudd konchee? Smak nibobo koochu be, h'chu dwana sleemo tonka jee-jee pateessa shag youngee hunka Schoon, planeeto pankpa gopptula howdunga na lickmoomoo wamma."
She looks over to Rem and then back to Cerebra. "Tonta doma Kerrick sleemo chawa wanga. Cheeska howdunga achuta joppay bunky moocha yoka. Planeeto jedda peedunkee toma nobata winkee, bolla Rem murishani hunka buttmalia che pateessa koochu."
You are a very wicked Hutt. Very wicked. You say 'friend of a friend,' but I know better. But human pregnancy isn't the same, you know. Bacta won't heal her spawnling if it expires. How much for the infant? Facilities here are crude, but they should be adequate to allow shipment to Paxo, where the embryo can complete its term. That man Kerrick is our enemy. He's been intolerably rude on many occasions. His life is nearing its end, and Rem desires to assure its speedy completion. 
<FONT color="#FFFF00">COMBAT:</FONT> Fry puts away his BVR-5X Handblaster.
Entering the Cantina at the most ironic of times is Jason Vires, rugged and sand covered. Wearing his favourite...or....only...jacket. The drunk leans and holds onto things as he makes his way, looking off-balance and all around incompetant. "Honey, I'm home!" He mumbles out to the bartender, who...is apparently wedded to him.
The shade now darts past Rem, but not before it utters a few quiet words to the woman.
The woman's sudden drop in condition prompts the hunter to move towards her side, giving her a quick look over. "Dammit..." he hisses. Then Kerrick, bounty hunter of the Rim, bends over and scoops the lady up in his arms with an unusual amount of care... And his cloak flutters as a pair of miniature turbines roar to life.
A pair of steel grey eyes turn towards the open door as his feet pick up off the ground and he spins slowly, knocking over her now-vacant chair as he gets his bearing...
And he accelerates, plowing through anything in his way and singing more than a few sentients.
Koobis ducks behind the bar, dodging the flames, "Eek!"
Whatever cool Rem was containing, it's gone. "Huuuunttterrrrr!" She screeches after him, though it's lost in the sounds of jetpacks. Her shoulders slump as she gasps for air. 
In Vires's shadow enters a desert wanderer in brown robes. His half-gloved hand comes to secure Vires, then the wanderer keeps going. Kerrick runs past him, that seems not to disturb the wanderer any. Flames neither. The stranger goes sitting near the Sabbac table, avoiding ably lost shots, brawls and any light that could reveal his traits under the hood.
Abraham steps away from the booth he had been using as cover. Raising his weapon to his shoulder again points it towards where the Rodians were. In his augmented helmet voice he shouts, "Rodians! Stand and drop your weapons. Do this, and you will not die today for the crimes of your employer. I do not want to kill you. But I will if I have to."
Fry gets up and looks over the top of the bar. "Koobis, it fine. We ask Hutt now?"
Koobis looks at the human, shouting so loudly, and asks politely, in his broken basic, "What his problem? He looking for consolation prize maybe?"
Cerebra the Hutt looks over his shoulder as Kerrick blasts out of the Cantina. Then he turns to Abraham, and levels his Force Pike at the Rodians. He flips a switch on the Pike with his thumb, and it whines.
"Yatuka toma inkabunga howdunga?" Cerebra bellows his question.
You work for him?
Baaz slowly turns the way Abraham faces and shrugs his cowl again "Please..." he adds "Just because there was tension, and may yet be, doesn;t mean we cannot be civil.."
Koobis says, "He say he run bounty guild? That one owned by hutts, I hear? So maybe he work for you?" Koobis adds, a bit hastily, "O great and mighty hutt lord."
The Drunken Vires worms his way through the light cantina crowds, deliberately crossing directly in the crossfire between the rodians and their potential aggressors. He stumbles a bit and lingers there, wobbling to and fro a table uncertainly. Gravity was tricky today.
Abraham quirks his head to the side a bit to address Baaz, but his attention is still on the Rodians, "I am being civil. It is them that will not drop their weapons. They may now try to fight their way out of the bar and rejoin their leader. That would not work for me, ya know."
Fry says, "We paid, work individual jobs, O great and mighty Hutt lord."
The stranger in brown robes gestures the chief of the proud 'Landspeeder Posses' to come closer. Through whispers, they exchange information. That information must have to do about the recent events, since the Kubaz angles his head at the bar, at the booth, points another place too... avoiding Cerebra, naturally. A small bag is palmed in the hands of the Kubaz leader.
Baaz chuckles to his cohort "I see your point, my friend." Draven, blaster still idle and hanging at his side peers at the Rpdains, and again waits.
Cerebra the Hutt snorts, "Kava wankee tonta. Che choo winkee lorda. Sleemo, me gopptula yoka panwa tella chawa copah jeedai Droi Kerrick ne wamma, tee-tocky choppa teesaw pankpa moulee-rah yatuka Nibobo chowbasa Chik."
You were paid. You did work jobs. Now, unless you have some information that would bring Hunter Kerrick back here, you are all slaves of the Brood of Zergata. 
Euphemia tosses back the rest of her milk and flicks the glass to the floor, where it shatters. She steps forward. 
"A yocola, yoka joppay chik, Wamma. Buttmalia ne wanga a tagwa koochu. Nudd youngee tonka gocola eniki jee bunky smak, poy planeeto h'chu apenkee a Tella Che. Wata a inkabunga moocha a hunka, moulee-rah bargon kava choppa tonta droi jewz nibobo. Be pankpa winkee rundee ootmian teesaw. Jee-jee copah a bedwana lickmoomoo coo. Patogga dwana konchee killee howdunga jedda, Choo Ulwan. Chawa peedunkee panwa, haku wankee na bolla pateessa jeedai achuta sleemo chuba uba Jujiminmee, yatuka makacheesa gopptula. Lorda toma shag me pawa murishani tee-tocky hoohah Badda doma dunko waffmula. Chaa nobata yafullkee Chowbasa cheeska schoon keepuna; che tonta your badda, lorda achuta choppa."
A moment, if you please, Exaltedness. That man is a wanted criminal. The bounty on him is up to 75,000 credits--before he stole from a Hutt Warlord. Stole a woman and a baby, clearly to rape one and eat the other. Construe that either way you prefer. He is a menace to civilization. You must contribute to this bounty, Warlord Cerebra. Make it 100,000 credits for the delivery of the corpse of this man Kerrick, in identifiable condition. Let no one think they can thwart the Hutts or insult me. Do with the Rodians as you please; they are your subjects, as they've said.
Fry says, "Yes yes, he say good with Hutts! We fine if he good with Hutts, he not good with Hutts, Rodians tricked! Rodians go make liar bad times!"
Cerebra the Hutt frowns, and looks to Effie. Rage boils in his sharp red eyes, "Bedwana bolla hoohah. Wankee jee-jee wata."
So be it. One hundred thousand.
The desert wanderer rises and knits his way through the thin crowd and tables toward Cerebra, slowly but not stopping.
Abraham motions with his repeater to the Rodians, "You heard the great and powerful Cerebra. Drop the weapons. You are now his slaves. Do not disrespect your lord by holding a weapon in a threatening manner before him."
Euphemia seems grimly pleased. She bows her head to the Hutt and then flashes a winning smile. "Ne bargon, Patogga Poy, dunko cheeska moocha copah jedda planeeto choppa schoon yocola."
As always, Lord Cerebra, you are as eminently reasonable as you are fierce. 
“Heeeyyyy!" The drunk twirls and points defensively at the man with the repeater, a ridiculous expression that is holopicture worthy for a laugh. Eyebrow quirked high, squinty eyes. Lip upturned. "Thhhhose are MY Frrwends! yur....talking to." He slurs out, unsteadily stepping backwards. "You watch it! PAL!. ....or.. ..yur...gonna have some trubble."
A hand in a fingerless glove drops on Koobis's shoulder, meaning to be reassuring to the poor rodian. Another pulls back the brown hood, to reveal long striped braintails, the light-gold skin, the scar... it's Administrator Okran.
"Infinite Powerfulness Cerebra, 'fore you enslave those Rodians, I humbly ask to be heard.", Okran says, in basic.
Cerebra the Hutt looks to the gaggle of Rodians. He smiles slowly, and slithers closer to them, his Force Pike pointed threateningly at their faces.
"Wamma your bunky. Tagwa jee choo wanga jedda planeeto a apenkee, pawa Yafullkee Badda eniki achuta hunka your chawa. Yocola, Wata." Cerebra says, "Wankee jee na sleemo kava pankpa schoon, I yoka nudd smak yocola ne Jeedai peedunkee hoohah nobata poy droi."
Drop your weapons. You are lucky that there is a fine, upstanding Hutt Agent here to plead your case. Speak, Okran. But if they don't drop their weapons, I will be forced to splatter Rodian brains all over this bar.
Fry says, "Me not holding weapon." Fry holds his hands up.
Euphemia goes to the bar and gets another glass of milk. "I am very thirsty today," she says. "And this helps build strong bones. If I must deal with such scenes, I need strong bones!"
Baaz is finally assured, now that things are well in hand, that his lady admiral is safe. Baaz holsters his weapon, his demeanor reverts to a more relaxed stance.
<FONT color="#FFFF00">COMBAT:</FONT> Baaz puts away his BlasTech DL-50 Blaster Pistol.
<FONT color="#FFFF00">COMBAT:</FONT> Koobis puts away his BlasTech Raphael Mk.122 Cannon.
Koobis says, "Yay, weapons away-time! Hallo, Administrator Okran, you do okay today? Many fun things happen, but no shooting."
The shade approaches the Hutt, and, mutters something to Cerebra in passing.
Fry elbows Koobis and gestures at the Hutt. "Koobis, excellent Hutt want hear good Administrator do talk! Shut up!" he says under his breath, as much as a rodian can.
Okran looks around, frowing to all non-Hutts showing bare weapons. He bows his head to Cerebra, before speaking. "Tagwa copah, your Ootmian. Joppay bedwana Lorda na sleemo, uba chik dunko rundee Yafullkee tonta wamma apenkee jujiminmee planeeto, chawa I murishani nobata bargon patogga jeedai me a badda youngee coo. Haku, dwana choo jee-jee. Lickmoomoo jedda tonka, your Panwa Chowbasa, ulwan gopptula nudd ne moocha?"
Thank you, your Huttness. Rooga the Hutt told me, in the case the Rodians would fail to perform correctly, that I could perhaps employ them myself to a more adequate job. Namingly, digging through trash. Do you think, your Titanic Hugeness, that that could be possible?
Fry stands dead still with his hands in the air, behind the bar.
Baaz turns to Effie "Wasn’t the Hunter trying to influence the election here for his own evil purposes?"
Regaining her composure, Rem slips her own blaster away. She squares her jaw, runs a hand through her hair, and goes to Effie, eye downcast. "I'm.. glad the Hunter didn't actually attempt to fire on you, my lady.."
Cerebra the Hutt seems to consider this slowly. After a long moment, he turns to Okran, "Schoon. I panwa waffmula badda. Nudd I gopptula Hoohah. Nibobo. Moocha I joppay planeeto winkee doma ulwan dwana pawa lorda smak Pateessa Jedda, I ootmian killee yatuka jee-jee poy. Haku koochu na bedwana dunko jujiminmee Tagwa tella sleemo wanga, gocola nobata eniki jee. Lickmoomoo Yoka achuta patogga."
Administrator. I will allow this. But I want Kerrick. Dead. If I find out that you let him hang out on Cloudy City, I will take it from you. And if you don't put these Rodians to good use, send them to me. My Snidd needs feeding. 
Vires goes unnoticed.... and forgets why he's here anyway. So.. he starts slowly for the exit.
Euphemia nods sagely to Baaz. "I wouldn't be surprised if Tatooine contributes to the bounty too," she says. "A hundred credits or so, since it's a poor little outpost." Euphemia turns to Rem and gives her a warm smile, holding out the glass of milk.
Okran grins and bows. "Joppay toma, Jewz Bunky. I howdunga h'chu. Your uba waffmula chaa wamma.", he says, then raises back to standing. He summons Fry to come closer.
Thank you, Ageless Wisdom. I fully understand. Your will will be done.
Fry walks out from behind the bar and stands around next to Okran.
Euphemia says, "Rem, my dear, that woman must be his beloved. Why would a bounty hunter entangle himself? Seems like a good way to get his loved ones hurt. It's irresponsible. How dare he chide me for placing my hatching facilities near a hospital?"
Cerebra the Hutt turns now to Effie, shaking his head sadly, "Tonta poy me gocola lorda. Yoka a chawa yocola uba pankpa. H'chu ulwan wanga tagwa bunky copah nibobo chuba!"
He always seemed so cooperative. Such a good little blaster thug. To think that he would come to this! 
Koobis heads on over to the twi'lek as well, indeed.
Baaz nods slowly, his cowl bobbing in the process "I will go check on the results... perhaps some of the locals will vote the other candidate instead, out of anger for the Hunter's crimes." Baaz moves for the door.
Euphemia nods sympathetically to Cerebra. "H'chu konchee peedunkee moulee-rah coo," she says, "cheeska tella tagwa haku. Winkee copah jee lorda bolla chowbasa bedwana pankpa me schoon gopptula lickmoomoo ulwan. Waffmula nobata choo koochu youngee, patogga jee-jee tonka apenkee rundee panwa, dunko yoka buttmalia chawa. Hunka I poy be chaa nibobo. Jujiminmee sleemo. Achuta uba coo peedunkee hoohah. Your Dwana gocola wankee ne nudd killee."
When the help goes wrong. the help goes wrong. That is why one must be very selective and choose only the best. That is why my forces, though so often outgunned and outmanned, have done so well. Because I have the best people. The all-stars. Tested in battle many times. Your Brood is impressive too of course. 
Okran bows once more to Cerebra. "Let's leave, Rodians. I've got biz to finish else part.", he says gently to Fry and Koobis. "You'll see, I treat my employes fairly." He turns and starts heading for the exit.
Taking his repeater in his right hand, Abraham lifts it up and over to sheath in on his back. He shakes his helmeted head as he turns to the Hutt and Effie, "He's been a Republic agent for quite some time now. That little news cast that he had letters of marque to fight the enemies of the Republic. He was using the Guild as his own little personal terrorist army preparing to fight the Hutts and the Imperium, the enemies of the Republic. He was a turncoat several months ago, he is still a turncoat and a coward."
<FONT color="#FFFF00">COMBAT:</FONT> Abraham Constantine puts away his Merr Sonn TM8 Repeater.
Rem nods softly to Euphemia, appearing tired. She blinks, and softly notes, "Odd. He doesn't seem to be the type to foolishly get others involved. Especially a woman in such a state.." She frowns and sighs. "I really wish that bartender had gotten that Jawa Juice for me before he fled. Bantha shit."
Cerebra the Hutt nods sadly, "Smak, moocha wata eniki peedunkee uba pawa makacheesa, inkabunga h'chu yoka droi jee-jee bolla toma? I be a haku buttmalia, bunky hoohah teesaw waffmula chuba schoon choo wankee apenkee killee."
Well, if the body is delivered to you, you will save his liver for me? I have a fine chef, and he could cook it for the three of us. 
Fry says, "We go now, Administrator-man!"
Euphemia nods to Rem, rather sadly. "So it is," she says, "so it goes. I myself have never had a baby, but sometimes I dream about them. Little happy gurgling things, which eat infinite quantities of Alderaanian crepes. It makes me quite happy. Have some Whyren's, Rem?" Euphemia nods to Cerebra in passing.
Rem bobs her head to the Hutt, a gesture of thanks and respect, then snorts to Effie. "It's not quite that glamorous. Maybe, later, I'll tell you all about it," the redhead jokes, running a hand through her hair. "I'd love a drink of anything, right now."
Cerebra the Hutt looks over to Effie and Rem, "Hunka, buttmalia sleemo. Ulwan, smak, jedda tonta koochu wamma gocola. Copah schoon pateessa che dunko a chuba."
Ahhhhhhhhh, child rearing. I, too, am bloated with reproductive jelly. It is not easy bearing a clutch.
Rem raises an eyebrow, and says in Huttese, voice straining in forming the syllables. "Bolla, bargon. I hope your bedwana moocha joppay wata chawa, uba pankpa, wamma droi Tonka youngee."
Ahh, congratulations. I hope your clutch grows strong and healthy, like you, most esteemed Hutt general. 
Whatever Rem may have done to disabuse Effie of the notion of the glamour of childrearing, Cerebra definitely wins in that department. Euphemia pales. Then, with exquisite politeness, she says, "I think you will be an excellent mother, Cerebra."
Abraham turns to Jehan as he slips out. He nods his helmeted head then goes to the bar and takes up his stool from before. Sitting there he watches in silence as the conversation develops.
Cerebra the Hutt says, "Gocola peedunkee killee nobata! Be, badda tee-tocky jee-jee ootmian eniki!"
Ho ho ho ho! Oh, everyone says that about everyone!
Jehan salutes Abraham, heels clicking together and approaches the other man. He mutters, "whatever you got, so long as it's strong," to the bartender, looking over his shoulder to the Hutt, Euphemia and Rem. He smirks. "I should learn that language," he quips to the man beside him.
Abraham nods slowly and looks about, "You missed a bit, my young friend. The Bounty Hunter's Guild has just become illegal on the Outer Rim, and it's leader is now a wanted fugative." His T-shaped visor turns to Reegu who is in his booth, "You, Rodian. Have you come through the action in one piece?"
"Oh, I was here for that man's escape. I should add, I'd hoped those two following him would have gotten a shot or two," Jehan nods to the bartender and examines the concoction suspiciously. He leans toward his superior and asks, "What's this... blue juice?"
“Surely, not your first, is it, General?" Rem jokes. Ah, it's good to have some humor back after a tense standoff.
Reegu blinks at Abraham, antennae twitching before he responds in Rodese <<"We actually drifted off a bit, so we are actually rather unaware... and with the guild being outlawed, that would mean I'm out of a job if hunting is illegal...">>
Euphemia says, "Copah I murishani smak chik yocola jee patogga killee. I me nudd planeeto moocha. I sleemo schoon yoka jee-jee a tee-tocky."
Naturally I am too young to think of children. I feel positively babylike myself. I imagine that makes me a prodigy.
He waits for the Rodian to answer before turning back to the twi'lek, "Well, my good Lieutenant..I have no idea." Turning back the Rodian he shakes his helmeted head, "Bounty hunting is not illegal my friend. The Guild lead by the fugitive Kerrick is."
Cerebra the Hutt chuckles in a booming voice, "Dunko, jedda, inkabunga pateessa nudd! Bolla, I gocola sleemo wankee patogga!" He pauses, "I yafullkee smak gocola hoohah waffmula youngee jujiminmee pankpa nibobo keepuna a howdunga?" Then he looks to Reegu, "Jewz apenkee peedunkee waffmula winkee lickmoomoo. Gopptula buttmalia bedwana wamma bargon rundee yafullkee yocola tagwa. Hoohah eniki Kava."
No, no, not my first! Why, I could tell you stories! I don't suppose either of you two would like to become a father? It is not illegal to hunt. You should join up with this stout lad here. Start another Guild.
Reegu looks then to Cerebra, shifting his language to Huttese "Coo tagwa ne toma be, h'chu Bargon achuta youngee teesaw moulee-rah na winkee che badda koochu, tonka yoka I pawa smak, bedwana a pankpa waffmula rundee, tonta buttmalia haku jee-jee yafullkee peedunkee, poy choo bunky pateessa Inkabunga nudd jedda copah planeeto dunko lickmoomoo bolla Ootmian Gocola." then looking to Abraham "I pawa a peedunkee, kava lorda waffmula bargon pateessa, winkee I smak schoon makacheesa chaa bolla ulwan poy Cheeska toma Wata."
Hard for me to work, as I'd heard word he was one able to supply equipment, of which I have none, since a relitive of yours, despite my good favor with him, charged me enough that I'm fairly penniless after my taking leave of Nar Shadaa... I am a hunter, was raised to be one, and I used to hunt pay-jumpers and cargo-droppers for Borbulin the Hutt...
Cerebra the Hutt looks to Reegu, "Lickmoomoo buttmalia haku killee droi kava jedda bunky teesaw Hoohah Eniki keepuna tonta?"
You think you could bring me the head of Hunter Kerrick my friend? 
"Ahh, I was younger than the sweet Admiral..." Rem recalls rather fondly. A sweet sigh escapes her lips, her good eye closing for a moment. "Although, I must admit, I'm not quite familiar with Hutt breeding habits, but I sympathize with your state.." At least Hutts have no ankles to get all swollen.
Taking in the Rodian he chuckles in that augmented voice. Abraham's T-visor moves between the Rodian and the Hutt. "If you need back up, just let us know and soldiers of mine will be at your disposal. And in the future, if you don't start working for the glorious Hutt here and have no reservations for working for a government, don't hesitate to come by Merr Sonn or Paxo. We could be of help to one another."
Effie gives Rem a sly look. "Now I'm jealous," she says.
After several minutes' consideration of the odd-looking drink before him, Jehan takes a sip from the beverage, then another, until the glass is empty. He sets it on the table and mutters, "Not bad."
Cerebra the Hutt turns back to Rem, "Yoka, h'chu killee chuba. Jee-jee jeedai doma dwana ootmian Konchee, uba teesaw a peedunkee ulwan, droi tagwa murishani hunka che tonta Yafullkee nobata joppay! A bargon bunky lickmoomoo tee-tocky."
Oh, it's quite simple. The father stimulates the swollen Hutt, usually with a sultry dance, and the reproductive jelly of the Hutts spontaneously divides! A clutch begins to form...
“.. I think I prefer the human method." Rem deadpans, with a rapid blink of her eye. Of course, then she studies the Admiral with a knowing eye. "You have lovely hips, my dear. It'll be far easier for you." Women, discussing pregnancy and babies. At a cantina. After a tense stand off. Only on Tatooine. 
Shrugging a little big, Reegu takes a moment’s thought. "Jedda yafullkee haku tonta inkabunga wata wankee Panwa, shag konchee murishani jee, patogga buttmalia bunky a nudd gopptula keepuna tee-tocky kava makacheesa eniki. Pankpa, moulee-rah I winkee cheeska a ne jee-jee chowbasa howdunga chaa bedwana toma a choo tagwa. hunka I choppa moocha badda yocola, Me be pateessa wamma Teesaw." then looking to Abraham. "I bargon koochu dwana a rundee, moulee-rah makacheesa. Uba apenkee choo jujiminmee lickmoomoo wamma kava price hoohah murishani. I pateessa chik killee haku chawa wata teesaw tonka coo wanga," giving the rodian equivalent of a chuckle before leaning back in his seat, taking a long gulp of his ale.
We could likely try to hunt this Kerrick, though like we said, we haven't nary a blaster nor two credits to rub together. So, while I wait for a little money to come my way from a number of... stocks I own in the core, I'll be stuck on Tatooine. I can work for a government, on contracts. And contracts can be extended if the price is right. I only work as long as the money flow is right.
Effie blushes a little and asks for more milk. "Well, yes," she says, "birth is never difficult for Bellamy women. It is everything that comes afterwards. My great-grandmother, for example, was infamous for her six years of depression. There is a tower on Coruscant in sector 730 named after her. The Doona Vasva Bellamy Tower. It isn't very nice, these days. We sold it to the low-rent clans"
Cerebra the Hutt looks to Effie and winks, "I nobata bargon yocola moulee-rah jewz keepuna badda killee coo nudd peedunkee a pateessa bunky murishani toma!" He bellows a laugh.
I thought she meant it would be easier for you to be a father to my clutch! 
"There needs to be lekku contact for Twi'lek breeding to proceed. They -are- very sensitive appendages, you see." Jehan quips, then points to the empty glass beside him. "Another. I can't believe I just entered that conversation."
Pushing the swinging doors open firmly, a tall and striking human woman enters the cantina, her green eyes shine beneath long locks of jet-black hair, loose and windswept in appearance. Niobe surveys the patrons of the bar carefully before heading for a small table.
"Ahh, how informative a night, this has become! Hutts, Twi'leks, humans! How do Rodians reproduce, I wonder?" Rem says cheerily. "Ooh, you have a spot of milk, my lady.." Rem lifts a hand up to Effie's face, pauses mid-motion.. a small grin.. and she moves her face forward, instead, to pluck the offending drop from the side of the other woman's lips with her own. "There, got it." And smiles most innocently.
Effie lights up, clearly enjoying the attention and the kiss. "It was intentional, my dear," she confides as if transmitting a very wicked secret. The girl looks across at the Twi'lek and smirks. "It is an intriguing thing," she says, "Twi'leks. So humanlike and so different."
She pauses for a moment, then looks very cunning. "Rem," she says, "I must go to Merr Sonn now, but I really don't want to go to my ship all alone and unescorted. There could be snipers about, you know," she says, her eyes gleaming mischief. "Walk me to the spaceport, my dear!"
Reegu looks skyward at the display of the two humans, shuddering at their antics, creepy species that one. He does look between Cerebra and Abraham again, remaining quiet.
Before reaching the table she seems to be headed for, a pair of Rodians leaps into the chairs, drinks sloshing out of their cups, leathery faces bleating out with Rodian laughter. Niobe's eyes narrow, and she moves further into the bar, crossing near to a familiar face - or two. "Ah, um, yeaaah. Hi, again." This to Euphemia, who she finds herself standing across from, though at some distance. "Nice to see you again." She lets that hang in the air for a moment, to see if there is any reciprocal recognition.
"Us Twi'leks are... rather different folk, indeed." Jehan tilts his head to Euphemia, flashing her a grin. He steps back from the counter, gulping his beverage and pressing a switch in his weapon and a look to Abraham. "Shall I aid in the escort, sir?"
Euphemia sees Niobe and looks alarmed. "My dear," she says, "you chose a very strange course into Mon Cal Space, from what I heard. My condolences on your ship; I understand the clones did not survive either. But you got out in one piece, eh?"
Abraham nods slowly and remains silent for a few moments, "I will also. I must go check the status of the election, then I must head to Paxo to prepare some designs for the coming funeral. But, get in touch with me soon my young twi'lek friend. I may have an assignment for you. A very interesting one."
Cerebra's eyes widen at the little exchange between the woman, and his neck swells painfully against his armor, dripping in sweaty folds and spilling over the durasteel pauldrons. Some strange fluid begins to bubble up in the Hutt's throat, like off-white tapioca pudding. But he gulps it down.
"Hoohah, jee-jee! Inkabunga panwa? Makacheesa che," he bellows.
Ladies, please! Two fathers? Control yourselves.
"Indeed," Niobe states with a remarkably easy smile. "Navigation has never been my strong suit. I can barely even read a map. But...things ended up working out. That hauler was ugly, anyway." She casts a look the giant Hutt's way, and offers him a polite smile and a cleavage-revealing bow. "Master Cerebra, so good to see you again also. Tatooine has really come into its own, hasn't it? Such luminaries! Such power. Star-power."
"Three eyes are better than two," Rem smiles to the Admiral, though her smile is one of innocence cleverly feigned. "Take the boy with you, we women can handle ourselves," she tells Abraham. Is that a cleverly disguised wink hidden in there. Why, yes. A subtle hint. Maybe better than 'Do it, or I'll replace your ship's hyperdrive unit with a powerful explosive.' A familiar voice draws her eye away from the man, though. "Ahh, my dear! What a lovely night, this has become." Ladies, ladies everywhere.
As Abraham heads out of the cantina he turns his head to speak once more, "Good luck Rodian. Remember. Come to Paxo or Merr Sonn if you are ever in need of a job." Then he starts to head out but his next comment is directed to Jehan, "Do what you wish now, Lieutenant. For soon, your time will not be your own."
"Oh...I think I'll just hire out next time if you need any real coarse work like that done again, Lady Bellamy. I've found I'm a lot more partial towards handling affairs with finesse, and grace. It's -so- much more satisfying. Rem, dear. Good to see you also. I hope the bartender has recognized his good fortune today, and has offered you free drinks?" She casts a hot glance all around the room, eyes lingering on the males present and watching. The many, many males present and watching. 
"Talent like this makes the locals thirsty, so I profits here are creeping...up."
Cerebra the Hutt swallows heavily, a few opaque bubbles seeping from his lips as he slithers out without another word.
Effie gives Niobe another concerned look, then offers Rem her arm. "Escort me, my dear, be a doll."
Rem takes the offered arm wordlessly. "A good night to you, Miss Niobe. I hope we have a chance to share a drink together, sometime. Maybe next time I'm on Bespin?"
"Yes, let's," Niobe agrees. "Though I'm spending a bit of time here these days...at least until the sham of an election pans out. I want to know which criminal will be the next to squeeze Tatooine for its meager credits." She smirks, and then looks to Jehan. "Day. Evening. Something. It's not dark yet, anyway. So...buy a girl a drink, would ya?"
"After you, my lady," Rem tips her head and throws up her hood, leading the way to the cantina exit.
Category:March 2008 RP Logs