"It's a matter of honor. Whether you make contracts and later update policies to avoid payouts, or scrutinize claim. Your outreach has been large, and it has made you rich. But with expansion of your facilities across lands brings expenses that, once met, is attempted to maintain at the expense of your customers. This is how it begins. Business decisions when money is short from spending and maintaining growth to a calibur you'll have to squeeze out of your customers to maintain with updated prices. When your bank can't relinquish a claim or pay for a job, then we have meetings like here. Honestly the whole thing's been on record, either by our datapad signings, voice call conversations, and the camera in my helmet. I'm can't change the hearts and minds of those who have dug a hole of corruption in greed so deep no rhetoric can convince them that lives are more valuable than some percentage. Which is why, instead, we will move this claim to coruscant where we can't talk about it in court. Should the court take my side, I will recieve more than just the payout of my job. So for me it's fight you legally to get paid, or don't get paid at all. I've already completed the job, which puts me in favor, but obviously my work isn't done since we are having disputes over closure. Also, you hired me for my unique capabilities. There are those with powers over the mind, which can give someone a thought or judgement from that influence. So even as you dump what funds beyond what I can afford into an intellect that has manipulated the legal system to be in your favor, it may not matter in the end. This will also be bad press for you, win or lose, on your reliability. If your profits are at the border of bankruptcy or some manner of financial strife, you’d be wise to payout and downsize. But losing a case and the publicity? There’s no recovery. If I’m wrong, and you are plenty rich, then no one will complain that I take a bigger bite than what was discussed given the ill-courteous change in plans over my commission. My work involves conflict management, and I do so adore the sweet taste of vengeance, and here you are offering it on a platter for me.”

Razraf was tired of this. He had been hiding away on a transport for hours. He had been skulking through the ship, had dodged these fools as they wandered the ship. He had been nearly discovered not once, not twice, note even four times, but at least five times. People got bored when they were traveling through hyperspace, he figured. Or maybe they were tired of playing Pazaak, or reading, or whatever. He had been patient. That patience was quickly running thin.

They had to be making a lot of money here. That was the way that he had operated for some time: he followed the credits. There was a lot of money to be made here. He wanted to figure out what was going on. A grizzled alien entered the room. Green skin, odd snout, and if Razraf had really cared, he might have been able to put a name to the species. He really didn't care though. The creature peered around, his eyes widening as he noticed the movement by the Selonian. The creature even opened a mouth to say something, but like lightning, the Selonian Bounty Hunter raised his blaster and fired one, twice, and thrice. The body hit the ground. For several moments, he feared he had been discovered.

His pulse pounded in his ears. He was carrying a few weapons, but not enough to take on the whole ship. It would not do if he were so easily discovered. And yet, after several moments, it seemed that no footsteps moved to meet him. No backup arrived to back up their fallen ally. If anything, it seemed as though no soul had heard. He shook his head. Were they all so cut throat, or was he really deep enough in the depths of the transport to go unheard?

He considered the situation as he stalked forward. Perhaps, he considered as he dragged the body. Rodian, he realized. This creature was called a Rodian. Thankfully, this Rodian had not shot first. Otherwise, he might have been cut short of his goal. He had been quick on the draw, but if this body was to be discovered, he would be hard pressed to talk, or to shoot, his way out of this. Instead, he would continue his quiet vigil. He would sit among the cargo, and as soon as they landed, he would move out before he could be found. He would follow from a distance. He would find out who these business contacts were. He would discover who were the buyers, he would discover who were behind the sales. By threat or by manipulation, he would find himself a new source of fortune.

There was certainly a joy and a simplicity to his job. He was getting tired of hunting and killing, and it looked like this business could be his ticket out. He dragged the body back, and considering one of the crates, he popped it open. He started to stuff the body into a weapons crate. It would delay discovery, which would give him the advantage. However he played his cards, he planned to be a very wealthy, very happy Selonian.

I used to prompt For the Brotherhood as the basis of my story. Not a lot of DH fist-to-cuffs in this one. Had DH go under cover under his name of Takagari KogaRyu and pose as a inspector. Just something different to play around with.

I had my childhood friend edit a proof this Retired Editor-in-Chief Dennis Mansfield of the Crawford County Avalanche (Hometown newspaper)

Creon wasn't certain on the larger scope of the situation for the mission he was involved with. His time spent away from Brotherhood matters in the peaceful villa of Naboo kept him unaware of the ongoings within the unknown regions the Brotherhood operated in. His return and transition from the Odanites to Naga Sadow had changed the atmosphere of his progression in the jedi arts, light or dark. Yet the work was always similar no matter where he went. Unfortunately, he had not the upbringing with planned parenthood to specialize him in a skill or trade, and thus his only value is his expendability. This often put him in jobs that required conflict management, security, or covert operations. Like so many other warriors before him he rolled the dice with his life to make a living. He was not alone, however, for an entire squad of sadowans was on this mission. The cargo value was not only too expensive to account for loss, but if reverse engineered could turn the tides of war against the Brotherhood. This was all Creon needed to know for his work. His squad pulled regular shifts, and indeed there were many days of peace where it seemed little over a simple courier job. It wasn't until after a month that the enemy made their second attempt. Security breaches were sporadic, and often many will think the window of opportunity for heists would be done when peace and time lets one's guard down. Vigilance and patience kept the team alert, and when the terrorists came to make claim of the weapon's cache, they instead found a squad of Force Users. There wasn't violence, for the men had good sense to surrender. Though this didn't help in their mistreatment when tortured and interrogated for information. The Sadowans squeezed what little sanity these thieves had, and names were spilled of all who were involved that led to their involvement. These men were hired by a third party mercenary group in order to both prevent a direct correlation to their employer, and to not expend their own organic resources for reclamation missions. They were not the only one’s hired, as this was an open job posting available for all willing to support in sabotaging the brotherhood’s efforts. Upon retirement back to his quarters from a smooth mission’s success, Creon took upon himself to look into these names, and find out just what the Brotherhood had been up to during his absence. Of course they were always busy, with a struggle with something new around every corner. It gave Creon a depressed feeling, worrying that not only would the multiple factions put the council at a war front with too many adversaries at once. Resources would need to be spread, which will eat them from the inside out. This doesn’t also discount the natural competitive drive of the Sith, which all in once has dwindled the populous of membership further approaching desolation. In contemplating this introspection of plausible foresight, it would take much work for Creon to help support a revival. But is that the will of the ruling caste?

He shook his head. Too many thoughts after a long day from another simple and smooth success job. The worse has yet to come. He needed to train and prepare for what comes next.