10-22-2017, 12:47 PM
"Groo na, pachantha doo. Soh tek ma cha huhngo, brep chooga? Hoh hoh hoh."
"Gramba the Hutt extends his courtesies, and wishes to know if you had a pleasant flight over." The Twi'lek was dressed in a very ostentatious red robe trimmed with gold. The Hutt itself was wearing a large wide brimmed feathered hat and many golden necklaces.
Harlan nodded, his men seated behind him in wooden chairs lining the office walls. "Yeah. Pretty smooth sailing. Now, let's get down to brass tacks." He inhaled deeply on his cigar, and blew a cloud of smoke at the twi'lek assistant, who coughed pitifully. "You and the Ork mafia are warring with the Jacks, simply cuz we have positive relations with the Westside."
The Hutt's eyes narrowed, his thick mucousy voice bellowing with anger. "Gra cha tho klembo! Pagh ta Westside muk do vimbal da ASSASSINATION!" The slug's tail thwapped the ground, as the twi'lek translated. "The one know as Princess Hellstab assassinated a family member of the great Gramba the Hutt. There is a blood curse upon them and their allies. You of course understand this."
Harlan stubbed out his cigar in a crystal ashtray and folded his arms together. "Listen. I get it, but that ain't my bag of dollars. Me and my boys wasn't nowhere near that. We didn't even catch the light about it until the Orks was knocking hello on me turf."
The Twi'lek continued, apparently following a script as the Hutt dug a slimy hand into a globe of wriggling nightmares, dropping them into his cavernous maw. "That being said....if you are not against the Westside in their conflict...meaning you aid us in wiping them out...then you are unfortunately our enemy."
Harlan frowned, and rose from his chair, gesturing to his men. "It would seem that way, pasta head. Come on boys, let's g-"
Blood.
He smelt it, and heard the knives go back into their sheaths. The Hutt's personal security force, blacked out in combat armor and masks, were standing over the gurgling bodies of the two Jacks he'd brought with him. Behind him, the hutt and his advisor spoke as one. "Then you cannot be allowed to leave."
Harlan whirled around to see sparkles in the air as they both disappeared, some form of active transport whisking them away.
And then the glass windows of the office shattered, a high pitched, dopplered whine sounding in the air as it got closer and closer and clos-
THWIP
Everything went black.
"Gramba the Hutt extends his courtesies, and wishes to know if you had a pleasant flight over." The Twi'lek was dressed in a very ostentatious red robe trimmed with gold. The Hutt itself was wearing a large wide brimmed feathered hat and many golden necklaces.
Harlan nodded, his men seated behind him in wooden chairs lining the office walls. "Yeah. Pretty smooth sailing. Now, let's get down to brass tacks." He inhaled deeply on his cigar, and blew a cloud of smoke at the twi'lek assistant, who coughed pitifully. "You and the Ork mafia are warring with the Jacks, simply cuz we have positive relations with the Westside."
The Hutt's eyes narrowed, his thick mucousy voice bellowing with anger. "Gra cha tho klembo! Pagh ta Westside muk do vimbal da ASSASSINATION!" The slug's tail thwapped the ground, as the twi'lek translated. "The one know as Princess Hellstab assassinated a family member of the great Gramba the Hutt. There is a blood curse upon them and their allies. You of course understand this."
Harlan stubbed out his cigar in a crystal ashtray and folded his arms together. "Listen. I get it, but that ain't my bag of dollars. Me and my boys wasn't nowhere near that. We didn't even catch the light about it until the Orks was knocking hello on me turf."
The Twi'lek continued, apparently following a script as the Hutt dug a slimy hand into a globe of wriggling nightmares, dropping them into his cavernous maw. "That being said....if you are not against the Westside in their conflict...meaning you aid us in wiping them out...then you are unfortunately our enemy."
Harlan frowned, and rose from his chair, gesturing to his men. "It would seem that way, pasta head. Come on boys, let's g-"
Blood.
He smelt it, and heard the knives go back into their sheaths. The Hutt's personal security force, blacked out in combat armor and masks, were standing over the gurgling bodies of the two Jacks he'd brought with him. Behind him, the hutt and his advisor spoke as one. "Then you cannot be allowed to leave."
Harlan whirled around to see sparkles in the air as they both disappeared, some form of active transport whisking them away.
And then the glass windows of the office shattered, a high pitched, dopplered whine sounding in the air as it got closer and closer and clos-
THWIP
Everything went black.
“I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.”