Seated within the Glorious Jewel of the Hutts, the Winter Palace is situated on a remote island near the planet’s equator. Although blanketed with the pollution from Hutt industry, its location makes the climate hot and humid. Surrounded with trees and vines, it could be considered to be a paradise, even among the barren wasteland of Nal Hutta. Outside of the Winter Palace, a network of sewer pipes transfer the waste from the palace to wherever seems far enough to dump into the oceans surrounding the island. Flora and fauna that have adapted to the Hutt’s environmental changes thrive in the polluted forests surrounding the Winter Palace.

Stepping through its gilded gates, the lavish interior serves as the main audience chamber. Once belonging to the wealth of Jiliac Desilijic Tiron, the gleaming stone of the main aisle leads up to a Hutt’s dais lined with an expensive carpet. Beautiful tapestries line the high walls, telling of the sordid histories of those who woven them, awaiting execution in Jiliac’s dungeons.

Finally, the antechamber to the "throne" room is illuminated from above with high-skylighted ceilings. Constructed from lightly colored stone, the antechamber might have been where the late Hutt entertained his guests before an audience with spice and exotic dancers. In the hands of the Hutt Kajidics, however, these traditions have continued as the Winter Palace now serves as a front for criminal and business ventures that come and go.

I don’t know what is more disgusting, the Hutts or their planet.

Granta Prackx was becoming incredibly frustrated. She had only just arrived on Nal Hutta after finding her trip to Kessel was a complete waste of time.

“My erstwhile masters don’t see why they should tell you anything,” a Twi’lek stated in a condescending tone.

“I don’t recall asking you. All your kind are good for is slavery,” Prackx snapped.

One of the Hutts chuckled deeply.

“As that may be, my job here is to speak for my masters. They prefer not to dirty their tongues with your primitive dialect,” the Twi’lek continued, clearly hurt by the barbed comment.

The Juggernaut rolled her eyes. “So you’re basically of no use,” she sighed.

Without further hesitation, Granta armed herself with her WESTAR-M5. She fired a single shot directly at the hapless alien. Bored of the conversation, Granta armed herself with her signature WESTAR-M5 and fired a single shot at the offending alien.

“And before you even think about calling security, I killed about a dozen of those horrible pigs on the way in. Hired muscle never is very good at resisting the power of the Force,” Prackx warned.

A chuckle sounded from one of the Hutts who had spoken earlier. “I like your direct approach, Human. Especially when you’re female. That always seems to be a weakness for some in your species,” the Hutt said.

One of the others exclaimed something in Huttese. It was unintelligible to Prackx aside from the final word - Jeedai.

“I am no Jedi. A Jedi would ask nicely first. I just take whatever it is I want. And right now, I want you to speak to your intelligence network for me. I am looking for someone,” Granta replied.

All of the Hutts laughed loudly.

“You think that we will just give you something for free? That would not be good business!”

Granta opened her mouth to reply, but her eyes were drawn to some movement from the back of the room. As she watched, a Human male moved into view. Bentre Stahoes glared angrily at the large woman.

“And who are you? Another mouthpiece? Unless you’ve got a death wish, I suggest you back off!” the female threatened.

“I’m afraid not. I’ve taken particular exception to your comments about Twi’leks. Being that I’m married to one, I can assure you that they’re good for much more than just slavery,” the man responded.

“I’ll have to take your word for it. Looks like she’s got a good measure of you, anyway,” Prackx chuckled, observing Bentre’s scarred face.

“As I said. Your comments about Twi’leks. I can’t allow such an insult to go unpunished,” the man continued.

“Then I suggest you come and punish me. If you’re man enough,” Granta said.

“My wife’s never complained once,” the Shadow answered.

Prackx went straight for her lightsaber, expecting to see Bentre do the same. Instead, the man reached for a DL-44 pistol. He took a few steps back, firing at the Juggernaut. The Sadowan wasn’t expecting to see the blaster bolts hit their target, but they did force the flame-haired female to shield herself with the blade of her lightsaber.

Making the most of the distraction, Stahoes called out to the Force, allowing himself to fade from view as Prackx lifted her head.

The furious female craned her neck around to find her prey, snarling as she failed to spot him.

“Come on out, coward!” Granta roared.

Bentre found that last statement rich. He stuck close to the wall as he tried to round his opponent. Here he had been expecting a nice bit of trouble to make things interesting. He had not expected something like this woman that had arrived. She was oddly easy to provoke. Thankfully her little show of anger had caused a number of the room's occupants, the little leech types one typically found in the company of Hutts, to withdrawn toward the edge of the room. This meant he had to be more careful.

The Sadowan focused for a moment, projecting his thoughts into the Force toward his opponent. You really should watch that temper. How can a girl like you expect to get a date when you scare off all the lads and lasses?

He watched Granta turn as she swiveled her intense eyes across the breadth of the room. The Shadow made a mental note to keep out of her reach if he could help it. If Bentre waited too long, she might decide to start firing wildly throughout the room just for a chance to strike her opponent. Stahoes fingered the thermal detonator on his side for a few seconds before pulling his blaster. She was just wearing a uniform and he had armor on. That gave him an advantage.

"Peek-a-boo!" As he spoke the word, the scarred man dropped back into sight and let loose a trio of shots. He quickly dropped the blaster to the ground, setting into a headlong charge. He hoped to catch the larger woman off guard. Granta was prepared for the assault this time however. She brought her lightsaber up and easily batted down the blaster bolts. As Bentre pulled his own lightsaber from his belt and activated it with a snap-hiss, the female Sith was already bringing her weapon around in a fierce swing.

As their weapons met, Stahoes was surprised by the ferocity with which his opponent attacked. If he had been a little slower, he might have lost another hand for his trouble. The man let out a nervous laugh. "Wow, so I guess it is true what they say about redheads and tempers."

"Shut up." Granta drove another wide swing at the scarred man.

Each swing was fierce enough that the Sadowan could feel his hands begin to sweat as he brought his energy blade around to block another strike from the Juggernaut. It wasn't that often that he had a chance to square up with somebody like this woman. "I am a little surprised a girl your size can move like you seem to be able to. Really, it's impress-"

The man let out a cry as Granta brought her weapon down again. She had made Bentre pay for his split attention by striking for the hilt of his lightsaber instead of for the man himself. The weapon let out a sharp electrical pop, causing the Sadowan to let out a cry before throwing his weapon aside.

"Well Hells." the Shadow tried to backpedal away from the large woman. "I guess I should have learned a long time ago not to mention a lady's weight."

“Your mistake is in assuming that I’m a lady,” Prackx snorted.

The female steamed towards Bentre, determined to end the altercation quickly. The Sadowan backed away as fast as he could, debating if he were better off just to flee from the scene. As he began to increase the distance between himself and his furious opponent, however, he found himself unable to seriously entertain the idea of escaping. He readied his secondary lightsaber, knowing that his blaster would be useless against the onrushing Juggernaut.

Just let her tire herself out, Bentre thought to himself as he steeled himself for another round of duelling.

Prackx was in no mood for further delay. Her attacks were even harder than before, each one forcing the Sadowan into an increasingly defensive stance as he tried desperately to keep the onslaught at bay. Bentre continued to wait for his opponent’s attacks to weaken, ready to counter-attack at the first sign of fatigue.

“What are you waiting for?” Granta snarled as the Shadow continued to simply parry her strikes.

It had begun to dawn on Bentre that Prackx was not going to tire first. The blows from her lightsaber remained just as powerful as before, so the Corellian switched tack. As his opponent swung her weapon backwards to attempt another almighty attack, the Proconsul darted forwards, just about fast enough to nick Granta’s right thigh. The move did not appear to faze the Juggernaut, however, and she simply continued to attack, almost smashing Bentre’s blade clean from his hand.

This one could take on an AT-ST with her bare hands!

Prackx was beginning to become incredibly confident of her upcoming victory. She threw herself into each attack, grunting each time that her lightsaber met her enemy’s ever determined defence. A series of chained, aggressive slashes were met by a set of stubborn blocks, but Bentre was beginning to feel the strain of such a long duel. With a growl, the woman allowed the dark side to further boost her own strength, the sheer power of the blow knocking the Sadowan backwards. He rolled away just in time to avoid Granta’s crimson blade cleaving him in half, but the point was firmly made. Bentre was never going to win a straight fight.

“You should have stayed back. You’re not going to stop me from finding him,” the woman declared as she moved to re-engage Bentre.

“How do you know whoever you’re looking for is even still alive? Or that he’d want anything to do with you? Most of us don’t take too kindly to threats and force,” Bentre replied.

The comment seemed to irk Prackx greatly. Her answer came in the form of another ferocious series of strikes. The wound that Stahoes had inflicted was beginning to hurt enough to force the woman to adjust her stance, but she did her best to ignore it.

Taking a chance to step back between attacks, Bentre again veiled himself with the Force. As he did so, he tossed his lightsaber aside.

“There we go with being a coward again. Your wife must be so proud of you,” Prackx scoffed.

Slowly moving forwards, the Juggernaut focused on Bentre’s presence within the Force. As she reached his location, she prepared to finish her opponent with a single attack. As she swung forwards, she suddenly felt an extremely cold sensation burrowing its way into her waist. The Proconsul re-appeared into view, retracting a small metal blade back into a device attached to his wrist.

Prackx grimaced, clutching the wound.

Bentre had hidden himself yet again. He gingerly moved around the room, picking up his discarded lightsabers. Meanwhile the wounded Juggernaut remained in place, angrily looking around for any hint of her opponent. Eventually, she sensed him near one of the exits.

“Not even finishing the job? Pathetic,” Granta snapped.

Bentre, who was about to leave the area, turned around.

“Very well. I suppose I shouldn’t refuse a lady,” the Corellian quipped. He charged in, his hand reaching down to his blaster. Prackx, moving as fast as she could, waited for her opponent to reappear. As Bentre was about to fire, the woman swung an arm directly towards the blaster, knocking it clean from his hand. She followed up with a solid punch into Stahoes’ chest.

Bentre fell to the ground, severely winded by the attack. The Juggernaut grasped her fallen enemy by his throat, slowly squeezing her hand around his windpipe.

“I said I wasn’t a lady!” Prackx spat, moving to pin Bentre against the nearest wall. The stab wound he had inflicted still hurt, but she was beginning to enjoy herself far too much. She crushed her other arm hard into the Proconsul’s upper body, preventing him from moving his arms. In spite of this, Bentre still struggled, increasingly desperate as he felt the last of the air in his lungs dissipate.

As he slipped out of consciousness, Bentre Stahoes heard Granta Prackx’s voice one final time.

“Now, you slimy slugs. I’m looking for a man named Andrelious....”

The Juggernaut let out a growl as rage flickered in her blue eyes. It appeared as though the Sadowan had flipped a switch in his opponent.The woman raised a hand to reveal a tightly clenched fist. Her eyes dilated as she focused in the Force and Bentre could feel his connection to the Force seemed to almost flicker for a moment. Quickly following this sensation, it seemed as though the whole world had been thrown into harsh relief. No longer did he feel connected to the rest of the world. For a moment the Sadowan felt as though he only had a tenuous control of his limbs. He had grown accustomed to the constant link with the Force that he had become over-reliant on its influence.

Granta stalked forward with an almost predatory determination. Taking a few desperate steps backward to keep the distance from his opponent, Stahoes lowered his hand to his side to rest on the second lightsaber clipped to his side. The woman smirked as she put up a finger. Prackx's movements seemed to become a blur as she closed the distance between the two of them. Bringing his weapon up in a hard block, Bentre barely had a moment to register the flash of his opponent's lightsaber as she swung it outward in an arc toward the Sadowan's right side.

The smell of burnt flesh hit the Shadow's nose before he realized the pain arching through his arm. Unbalanced by the pain and the single-handed grip upon his own lightsaber's hilt, the man reeled backward for a moment. A cry of anguish escaped his lips at the unexpected pain. He watched as the Juggernaut reached forward in the same quick manner as before to grab the collar of his dark armor. Pulling the smaller man hard toward her Prackx brought the point of her own lightsaber into Stahoes' chest in a smooth motion.

Pain filled Bentre's head in that moment. This whole trip had proven such a waste. He had wanted to just add a little variety to the monotony of his work as Proconsul. In the last moments he felt a pang of regret as he considered his soon-to-be widow back on Tarthos. He didn't have long to think on such things however. Soon, the pain became too much and the Sadowan lost consciousness.

Granta finally felt the man stop twitching in her grip.She unceremoniously deactivated her lightsaber and didn't even watch as his cadaver struck the floor. The Juggernaut took stock of her surroundings. One of the Hutts, a younger alien who had watched the spectacle that had unfolded, let out a laugh. He mumbled something to a Twi'lek standing beside him. The lekku-headed male nodded before raising his voice to speak.

"My master is quite impressed with your little show just now. Perhaps we can come to some sort of an agreement, if you can learn some respect." Granta felt her lip curl at the condition. The Hutt muttered something that the Juggernaut did not quite hear. "Unless," the Twi'lek gave a toothy smile, "you would prefer get be forced out."

Considering this for a moment, Prackx shook her head. She would go along with Hutt's request for now. In the worst case, she would have to shoot her way out. It would just mean leaving a swathe of bodies in her wake. So really, it was a small price to pay.