Hector Von Ricmore
Nal Hutta
The encounter with the Coruscant broker had been bizarre, ending a conversation with a Mando’a phrase was unusual. The Clawdite had no idea what the man had said as he did not speak the language.
Truth be told, the longer he spent among Mandalorians the more he found them grating. Many, but not all, of the Mandalorians he encountered had been arrogant in their skill and pretentious in their attitude. The galaxy required a more flexible demeanor in Hector’s opinion, if one was to truly thrive out here in the unknown regions.
The trip to Hutta had been uneventful. The mere sight of his heavily armed Gozanti deterred most pirates. Those with the firepower to potentially take his vessel had difficulty keeping up with the speed of the C-ROC retrofitted ship. This was meant to be a relatively simple bounty; the Force user was content to avoid excess troubles.
It cost an exorbitant fee to access the primary landing platform at Nal Hutta, the slimy creatures who ran the world always eager to make a quick credit. The bounty would pay off such a fee, but it still left Hector grumbling as he boarded his landspeeder and left the platform.
Nal Hutta was a filthy cesspit of the galaxy. But the Hutts were no fools. Crime was allowed, even encouraged, some might say. Yet the overlords kept tabs on everyone. Information was rife for the taking if one knew where to look, and had the credits to spare.
Hector traveled about an hour away from the platform in his landspeeder. His destination? An old Hutt safe house run by a self styled gangster named Thorn. The Weequay was one of many who kept tabs on the visitors of Hutta. And he was a being that could be bought.
The bribe was a half ton container of spice, produced at the spice refinery owned by Juda Graves prior to his disappearance. The Clawdite reminded himself to check on the building in the future. After the Clan Vizsla leadership change many of their records had been deleted with little explanation, he could find no mention of the old production building, or even his shop for that matter.
But now was not the time to dwell on such matters. He had a target to secure.
Thorn had accepted the spice eagerly. And he was willing to share what he knew.
”Porgaan Ranguad eh? Twitchy little thing. The rodian landed two rotations ago. Took a bit to get ‘is bearings with ‘im jumping at shadows. Last I heard the coward was in town for black market blaster modifications. You know how they are Hector. They feel like a big man when they carry a big gun.”
He did know indeed. In unfamiliar territory and surrounded by enemies the Rodian wanted a safety line. A better blaster wasn’t a bad way to do it.
Thanking Thorn for his help, Hector returned to his landspeeder and began the trip to the nearby town. Radian’s packed one hell of a stench; Porgaan would not be difficult to find.
The waiting was the hardest part.
Hector found himself in a local establishment, The Drunken Dactyl. The owner, a Kaminoan named Naila Ke, would serve anyone provided they had the credits to spare.
With his coin purse a little lighter; Hector had a small table to himself. He waited patiently for his target and took the time to enjoy a meal. Today he had chosen to indulge in landshrimp and kaadu skewers with extra butter.
While he waited he pondered how he would deal with his target. Guile and lies were certainly an option but he felt the need to test himself. To make sure he hadn’t yet gone soft.
Before long he caught the stench of something truly vile. And then the visual of his target, accompanied by the beeping of the tracking fob. He could have used the device to locate the Rodian earlier. But it was good to avoid relying on such technology all the time. He had to keep his skills sharp.
Rising from his seat, Hector tossed a few credit chits on the counter. Naila’s culinary ability was impeccable as always.
Stepping out of the establishment he called over to the Rodian.
”Oi Porgaan, over here!”
The twitchy Rodian turned with a jolt and fumbled with a large blaster pistol.
Hector drew his DT-12 at the same time, firing a blue stun blast into the chest of his foe.
Porgaan’s blaster fired harmlessly into the nearby wall, scorching the structure with a massive blaster burn.
Hector gazed at the impression left by the weapon. That would have been dangerous; likely debilitating even with his armor.
The Clawdite tossed a few more credits on the counter to pay for the damages. This outing had set him back more than he liked, but it was worth the cost to stay in the good graces of Naila Ke and Thorn.
Picking up the Rodian, he slung the being over his shoulder. He had a bounty to deliver. Maybe next time he’d pick something that didn’t reek quite so much.