Ruined Business

[Jacket]

"You gonna arm us and hunt down this piece of shit?" Ig questioned if Hulgom was going to give them orders to hunt down this prime.

"No, we still got work to do for our business. In the meantime, I'll put out a bounty on his head and warn my fellas about this asshole then we'll be on full alert for anyone looking shady. They'll probably rough up anyone who's wearing that exact letterman jacket. Most likely kill them too," Hulgom responded while pressing something on his answering machine to alert his bodyguards to come to his office.

"Well, that's all I had to say, boss. You know, I was a little worried that you were going to kill me and not forgive me," Ig chuckled but Hulgom didn't really carry the same attitude as he did but still had that same serious threatening look on his face which made Ig shut up.

"I'm going to go now and not bother you anymore Hul-" Ig was interrupted by the noise of his office door opening with two other orc mobsters walking in then shutting the door behind them.

Their entrance made Ig turn around to see who it was coming behind him. They stood on each side of Ig as if he was going to be escorted out of here but Mr. Fisteye had different plans.

"Hold him down boys on my desk and place his arm out," Hulgom commanded and the orcs followed the orders right away.

Ig had his left arm locked behind him by one mobster and the other stretched his right arm against the desk. Some items got pushed off the desk by Ig's body being forcefully pressed against the desk. This caused his emotions to be frightened at what was going on. He thought that his boss wasn't going to kill him.

"W-what is h-happening boss?" Ig feared for his life as Mr. Fisteye reached under his desk to grab something.

"You must suffer the consequences of this mess that I didn't cause," Hulgom explained while getting up from looking under his desk for an item.

The item in his hand was an orc steel battle-ax with wavy design markings on his blade. This ax didn't look like some of the modern ones that were made in the streets of Coruscant by blacksmiths but had an appearance of an ancient one. Ig had his head pressed against the desk with his eyes pointed away from the scene. It horrified him that he couldn't see what was going on but instead had his vision made to focus on a wall. They held him down tightly and these orcs were fairly strong with muscles bulging from their biceps. Ig struggled to try to break free but couldn't from being outnumbered. He whimpered in fear about this situation and felt like he was about to wet himself. Hulgom grabbed his right arm's risk and raised the battle ax high over the part of the flesh he wanted to cut.

With a swift brutal motion, Hulgom chopped off Ig's right hand like a butcher which caused him to do a blood-curdling scream from the intense pain his nerves sensed. His voice cried out in agony and he was in shock what just happened. Blood leaked out on the desk from his severed hand and his huge open wound. The orc mobster lets him go and Ig fell to the floor grabbing his risk and couldn't believe that his right hand is now gone. Mr. Fisteye kept the same serious facial expression through this event and grabbed a zip-lock bag from one of his desk drawers. He wrote on the bag with a sharpie he had on the desk and labeled it, "Ig". After that, he grabbed the severed hand than zipped it up in the baggie. Hulgom walked over to his freezer while Ig cried from what just happened.

He opened the freezer that made a hissing noise. The chilling mist escaping from the freezer when it opened. Hulgom put the hand inside with the rest of his hand collection he had going on for the victims that failed him. This was a reminder for them to do better next time if they didn't want to lose the other one. There was a rule the lieutenant made with his client and workers. It was called "The Three Strikes Rule". If they fail the first time, he would chop off one of their hands. On the second time, the last hand would be cut off. For the final mistake, they would be killed, and their corpse would be disposed of with an unmarked grave in Coruscant.

Mr. Fisteye closed the freezer that sealed shut and looked down at Ig who rest against one of his office chairs near the desk. The two orc mobsters stood there waiting for orders from their leader. Hulgom walked up to his desk and looked at his men with a commanding facial expression.

"Take Mr. Ig down to the infirmary pronto," Hulgom ordered and his men responded in an acknowledged nod.

They carry the sobering Ig out of his office and left him in peace. His laptop was still on and wasn't asleep yet for Hulgom. He opened the Dataverse from his computer and started typing out a bounty to put online. Only key typing could be heard in the room as he filled out a description and provided the screenshot of the masked Jacket that was on the camera feed. After two minutes, the lieutenant finished typing out the details of the bounty and hit submit for the public eye to see.

He walked away from his desk and grabbed a drink then stood in front of the virtual fireplace to watch the artificial recorded fiery flames while taking a shot of liquor.