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A Meeting with Njon: Precursor
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| Blackfire_Contacts | Date: Thursday, 15 Mar 2012, 3:23 AM | Message # 1 |
 Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 110
Status: Offline
| Nar Shaddaa was a rather busy world, what with the comings and goings of so many vessels, both large and small; legal and highly illegal. It was an easy place to leave, as Agent Sixteen had done on a public transport; hopping across the galaxy on several stops before appropriating one of Blackfire's ships from a pickup point, a small MorningStar-B fighter, and returning through a varied amount of jumps to Nar Shaddaa. Young, Sixteen might have been and boastful at times, but he did not achieve his status and place in Blackfire by being hasty or not careful.
Keith Yoren, he expected, would have already been moving into the new nightclub premises within the past four days that he'd been gone, or at least begun moving, and now, Sixteen was more or less 'parked' in space among other floating ships waiting and sitting about for whatever purposes they served. Sixteen's purpose though, was to ascertain the location of the Wild Thing, Njon's Marauder-class that he'd pointedly destroyed Yoren's former nightclub with. Now, Blackfire felt, it was time to make an equally pointed response. Even if Blackfire had not given the order, it was likely that from higher up, from the people that Sixteen didn't even know, the order would come down.
With as much freedom as Njon enjoyed, it didn't seem likely that the Wild Thing's overall location would be too hard to find; here on Nar Shaddaa, the Hutts ruled supreme, more or less, but they were about to learn that there were others who had just as much pull, or more in some ways, than they did. If it was to be a battle of fear and power, Blackfire were just the men to get the fire burning hotter.
The Citadel's Contractors
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| PAUL_ORIEL | Date: Saturday, 17 Mar 2012, 9:59 PM | Message # 2 |
 Private
Group: Users
Messages: 1
Status: Offline
| Agent Sixteen would receive a transmission from Paul Oriel's X-wing, which his sensors would show approaching him from amid the rest of the traffic over Nar Shaddaa. "Why hello Sixteen, what are you doing up here all by yourself?" Paul would ask with concern in his voice, then switch to a private channel to his astromech. "H8, tell Master Skywalker I've located Agent Sixteen lurking over Nar Shaddaa suspiciously. I think he may be depressed, I'm going to talk to him." He switched back to Sixteen's comm frequency. "We're worried about you, Sixteen. Do you want to be alone? Or come get some waffles with me? I know a great waffle place on Nar Shaddaa!"
"Or how about some music to keep you company?" Paul said, retrieving his lute and regaling Sixteen with 10 minutes of enchanting music.
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| Blackfire_Contacts | Date: Sunday, 18 Mar 2012, 2:07 AM | Message # 3 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 110
Status: Offline
| (( Haha. Jamie, or Jace, not sure which one of you guys did this, but this made me laugh so hard. Brought me back to old times. :P ))
The Citadel's Contractors
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| Njon_the_Hutt | Date: Thursday, 22 Mar 2012, 6:19 PM | Message # 4 |
 Major
Group: Users
Messages: 90
Status: Offline
| Njon was perturbed, but not surprised, to find that Yoren had persisted despite the destruction of his club and opened up another one in another district on Nar Shaddaa. This district too was nominally "controlled" by the Hutt Cartel, as almost all of Nar Shaddaa was. But the Hutt had been more pragmatic in his response this time, seeing a need for a more cautious approach now that he knew that Yoren represented a larger organization, and one that he might soon enter into discussions with. Plausible deniability was the order of the day, and it was on this note that Njon had dispatched Neese to make contact with the latest of the Cartel's upstart challengers on Nar Shaddaa; a Weequay swoop gang that had tried, without success, to challenge Njon's supremacy in the area of Yoren's club.
Despite their differences, Njon and the Weequays came to an arrangement—if the Weequays did Njon's leg work for him (shot up Yoren's new club from time to time, beat and otherwise intimidate Yoren's customers, etc.), Njon wouldn't stop them and, in so doing, he'd cede the district to the Weequays. Njon was happy to be pragmatic on this, since he'd have no difficulty pushing the Weequays out at a later time. So it was that Yoren's club and its customers came under frequent bloody attack, and Njon had nothing to do with it. He made sure everyone knew that Yoren hadn't paid protection money to the Cartel, and the Cartel wasn't inclined to help him.
So had proceeded the four days that Agent "Donocha" had been away. Njon suspected that Yoren's superiors would beef up his security, and thus kept a closer watch on those who came and went to and from that district. But there was no reason a solitary Morningstar fighter would be noticed.
Indeed, the Wild Thing was easy to find. It practically advertised its presence wherever it went; like Njon's other ships, it was decorated with enormous red Huttese writing that said, (rough translation), "Back off, this is Njon's ship." Presently, it lazed about in Nar Shaddaa's orbit with several other Marauder-class corvettes and Njon's massive Lucrehulk-class battleship, his "palace."
Njon Anjiliac (alias "Njon the Hutt")
■ Owner and CEO of Anjiliac™ brand Spiced Wines, Ltd., known leader of the Anjiliac crime family, suspected leader of the Hutt Cartel.
■ Suspected of grand larceny, embezzlement, extortion, and trafficking in slaves, spice, liquors, and weapons.
Message edited by Njon_the_Hutt - Thursday, 22 Mar 2012, 6:20 PM |
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| Blackfire_Contacts | Date: Friday, 13 Apr 2012, 5:16 PM | Message # 5 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 110
Status: Offline
| Much to Yoren's displeasure and dislike, more than likely, the club had not been defended more than Yoren's already-hired security could handle. Likely the Weequay gang could bring more firepower than Yoren's men could, even with the assistance of the hovertruck and its team that originally dispatched Neese's thugs outside Yoren's older and now destroyed club. A gang, after all, tended to have a better sense of the surroundings, so Yoren's club would likely see less and less business and become more of a fortress of sorts at the moment for Yoren and his gradually downsizing group as death and injures took a toll on his security staff. This of course, was a necessary evil that Sixteen had not taken the time or effort to inform Yoren of, largely because if Yoren seemed hopeful, Njon might suspect something.
Strictly speaking, even Sixteen didn't know what to expect. He'd been told to go to Nar Shaddaa, locate the Wild Thing, target it with normal passive sensors and transmit the data back over hypercomm. Once that was done, he was told to 'sit back, watch the show and prepare to deal with Njon.' Sixteen wasn't quite sure what was to go about, but he was ready for an interesting ride. Njon's palace, the Lucrehulk, was indeed easy enough to spot, and the Wild Thing itself was a prevalent vessel, easily recognizable to Sixteen who'd had a very close view of it right before and during the destruction of a club he'd been occupying not long before.
When it came, Sixteen wasn't quite sure what happened. Something dropped out of hyperspace quite near his craft, blazing ahead at full speed, presumably based off the telemetry data he'd fed back through the hypercomm regarding the current patterns of ships, the location of the Wild Thing relevant to his craft and so on and so forth. The item that was rather small, smaller than any fighter at just over three meters, was one of two Thunderbolt-009 series drones that were produced as test craft by Vigilance Technologies. Though Sixteen could not know, this particular craft had been sent out with two missions: conduct a hyperspace jump and engage a certain large asteroid with the solitary specialized warhead it was carrying. Also unknown to Sixteen and, at the moment, the folks back at Vigilance Technologies, certain sabotage had gone in the works to ensure the drone would go elsewhere and use its payload for a different, much more deadly purpose.
This particular T-009 was set for a specific target: the Wild Thing, identifiable both by Sixteen's passive scan and the IFF the ship was brazenly broadcasting. Njon knew no fear, after all. It was time to put a little bit into him. At maximum velocity of 125 MGLT, the small craft worked an evasive course straight for the much, much larger corvette, almost seeming a flea attacking a kath hound of massive proportion. From the distance of three kilometers out, still working an evasive pattern the event the Wild Thing's captain noticed the small drone and attempted to fire on it, or whether it was noticed at all, the T-009 opened fire. If the Wild Thing, ideally not within at least a thousand kilometers of any of the other ships (not such a great distance in space), shot down the warhead, the result would be the same, this close. Whether on impact or or detonation by other means, space would suddenly fill with light, a quantum fluctuation as there by Nar Shaddaa for that brief moment or two, the universe was recreated in a miniaturized big bang, wracking space in every which way for a thousand kilometer radius from the point of the explosion, consuming certainly the small drone and, considering the power of the weapon used, meant for space stations and massive battleships, the Wild Thing as well.
Sixteen realized his mouth was open as his craft was buffeted by the shockwave, causing it to tumble end over end while he tried to gain control; an item he was barely able to achieve. Finally though, he gained the use of his craft. When the explosion died down, which did not take long, and Sixteen was able to compose himself, he thumbed the comm that Neese had given him to signal Njon. "Njon Anjiliac, this is Agent Sixteen. Are you ready to meet with me?"
Added (13 Apr 2012, 5:16 PM)
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(( Bump. ))
The Citadel's Contractors
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| Neese | Date: Monday, 16 Apr 2012, 10:22 PM | Message # 6 |
 Private
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| Mr. Anjiliac hadn't been happy. The Hutt had tried to conceal his rage beneath a facade of bemusement at the destruction of the Wild Thing, but Neese knew him well enough to know that he was, well, pissed. It wasn't the destruction of one of his corvettes and the loss of its crew that had bothered him as much as the fact there were witnesses to it. The bearer of the bad news had been dispatched to Mr. Anjiliac's carnivorous arboretum, but this was customary. And some of his bemusement was genuine; it seemed he took pleasure in having upset Agent Donocha's handlers so much as to resort to so unsubtle a gesture. This was not a show of strength, Njon mused, but one of vulnerability. Nonetheless, though he'd never intended to meet with Donocha and still didn't, he did agree to send Neese to do it on his behalf.
Still, the answer to Agent Donocha's transmission wasn't immediate. Time passed, and its origin was traced to Donocha's fighter—not a difficult task considering the comlink he was using was one of Njon's. The Hutt suspected he'd be nearby, since the strike on the Wild Thing happened so fast the targeting data must have been transmitted from the scene ahead of time. He ordered Deece to make use of the Subrosa's enormous military-grade sensor suite and conduct passive sweeps of the other ships in the area as well as long-range scans as far as Y'toub; any hidden reinforcements wouldn't be hidden for long.
Meanwhile, Mr. Anjiliac also plumbed the "spice deck," as it was casually known, and roused enough of his pilots—a motley gang of drug-addled smugglers, pirates, and mercenaries—from their stupors to sneak up on Donocha's solitary fighter; their nondescript freighters left the Subrosa from tertiary hangars that wouldn't make it as obvious from a distance where they'd come from. They counted on Donocha being too distracted with the Imperial IPV's combing through what remained of the Wild Thing to notice them approaching him from several directions, too slow to be noticed (much as Donocha himself had done a moment ago).
It was then that Neese responded to Agent Donocha's transmission. He didn't bother with hellos. "I've been told to meet with you if that's what you want," he said, "but Mr. Anjiliac is insistent that, as the nominal leader of the Hutt Cartel, he not meet with anyone less than the leader of your organization. He expressly wished me to convey his opinion of you as an 'underling' and your handler as a 'coward' if he doesn't show himself."
"If you still want to meet, it'll happen here—" Neese said, naming one of Njon's fronts, a garage that was believed to have gone out of business but was probably still used as one of Njon's spice distribution centers on Nar Shaddaa. Or it was abandoned, and used only for this sort of secret meeting. Either way, Neese was quite clear the meeting would be there or nowhere, and Njon himself would meet with no one less than his equal in Donocha's shadowy organization.
Neese
Hired Gun and Representative of Njon Anjiliac
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| Blackfire_Contacts | Date: Sunday, 06 May 2012, 3:05 PM | Message # 7 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 110
Status: Offline
| Sixteen would not be quite caught unawares in the manner in which Njon expected; from the buffet of the concussive explosion, the Blackfire agent's vessel had been hurled a goodly distance away from where the Imperial craft were presently searching the wreckage. Cutting in his sublight engines at sixty percent, Sixteen was headed back towards Nar Shaddaa's surface. In this manner, he was distracted, still shaken by the blast and overly excited by the attack of the... whatever it had been. He wasn't quite sure. Either way, in his current state, it would likely be possible for Njon's freighter pilots to indeed sneak up on him. If they did such though, he'd deal with it when the time came. His shields were still holding, thankfully, and the small craft had suffered no real damage.
When he received the call from Neese, Sixteen was still faintly amused and also possibly concussed, for his speech was slurred on certain words. "I will meet with you, Neese, at the address you've given. However, inform... inform Mr. Anjiliac as you call him, that this system's operations hold me as its head. The best he's going to get is the sector overseer. He's more than welcome to meet with a representative of the small council. They run the entire organization, but I doubt that many people are going to come and speak to him. I doubt he wants that many people in the same room as he is. Furthermore, Neese, instruct Mr. Anjiliac that the demonstration that just removed his vessel from space can be further repeated. Next time, it can be on his Lucrehulk. Of course, if he agrees to meet with me instead of playing games, he stands a good chance of gaining such a powerful weapon. If he's interested, Neese, have him meet me. I'll be at your garage either way."
Clicking off the communicator, Sixteen would fumble for a few moments as he attempted to place it back in his pocket before attempting to continue on down.Added (06 May 2012, 3:05 PM)
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(( Bump. ))
The Citadel's Contractors
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| Neese | Date: Tuesday, 08 May 2012, 3:23 PM | Message # 8 |
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Private
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| Provided that Donocha had landed safely, he'd find the location Njon had chosen to be identical to many decrepit establishments of its sort on worlds across the Outer Rim—a pair of landing pads beside a modest garage, the setup meant to refuel and service ships passing through Nar Shaddaa. It, along with most of the surrounding district, was boarded up. A few Ranat vagrants scattered when Donocha's MorningStar fighter set down on the cracked duracrete of the landing pad, and for a moment, as the rumble of his engine died down, Donocha would be alone with only the city's distant, ambient sounds filling his ears.
Until, that is, another ship could be heard approaching, and seen a moment later as it descended gently from above and set down on the adjacent landing pad. Donocha would recognize it as a HWK-290, the sort of Clone Wars era Corellian transport that can slip around commonly unnoticed on the Outer Rim these days. Its engines on standby, the ship's ramp lowered and Neese walked down it, a Gammorrean and a Carthasian thug striding down the ramp behind him, each with enormous blaster cannons.
Neese paused at the foot of the ramp, glaring at Donocha for a long moment with his hands on his hips and then saying something to the Gammorrean and Carthasian, waving them off. Reluctantly, it seemed, they walked back up the ramp and disappeared inside the transport as Neese walked toward the garage, gesturing to Donocha to meet him there. "I'm speaking for myself here, not Mr. Anjiliac," he said without any pleasantries as soon as Donocha was within earshot, "But I can potentially save you a lot of time and tell you that he's not going to do business with your organization sight unseen."
As he spoke, Neese had walked up to one of the repliwood boards fastened to the doors and windows of the garage and, with a good pull, yanked it free of the wall as though it was something he'd done plenty of times before. He let it drop to the ground, having revealed in its place a doorway with no door and, instead, a rusted, wrought-iron gate held shut with a chain and lock. Neese searched through the pockets of his vest for the key as he continued, "The Hutt isn't going to enter into any arrangements with someone he doesn't know or reasonably trust. No one else will either, and your little organization isn't going to expand until you grow some reproductive organs and drop the anonymity."
He had the lock opened and the chain removed a moment later, pulling it free and opening the gate over the doorway. He went inside, not waiting for Donocha to do so first. The garage had been a full-service machine shop at some point in the distant past, as evidenced by the rusted out tools and machinery strewn about the floor of the dark, dusty room. Neese led Donocha to the back of the garage, through what has once been a small office in the back, down a poorly-lit stairwell that creaked beneath their feet, and finally to another door at the foot of the stairs. This one had a functioning keypad on it, and Neese stood close to it as he typed in the code so that Donocha wouldn't see it.
The door hissed open, and Neece gestured him inside.
He'd fumble through some curtains for a moment before his entry into the room automatically triggered the lights, revealing a surprisingly clean and well-appointed lounge decorated in lush red hues with a handful of comfortable-looking couches of various sizes, arrayed around a large holoscreen on the wall. It was either an entertainment suite or a meeting lounge, Donocha would realize. Or both, possibly. Curtains similar to the ones he'd just passed through adorned the walls in several places, suggesting there was more than one entrance and exit to this room. There were no cameras or other surveillance devices visible, but, of course, that didn't mean they weren't there.
"Make yourself comfortable," Neese said from the doorway, his mean expression never leaving his face.
Neese
Hired Gun and Representative of Njon Anjiliac
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| Blackfire_Contacts | Date: Tuesday, 08 May 2012, 4:28 PM | Message # 9 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 110
Status: Offline
| Sixteen landed with a little difficulty, still shaking off the concussive force that had rocked him. When the transport set down nearby, allowing the exist of Neese's familiar face, albeit accompanied by a pair of thugs who held not rifles, but blaster cannons, he felt a moment of fear; fear that the power behind his organization might not necessarily spare his own life if Njon decided to fly into a rage. Doing his best to ban such thoughts from his mind, he descended from his cockpit, he replaced his fear with a disinterested, aloof look while he accompanied Neese, taking stock of the Rodian's words.
"I believe Mr. Anjiliac and my organization have come to a comfortable understanding, if nothing else, Mr. Neese." Sixteen did look around at the remains of the onetime machine shop with some small interest, taking more, of course, once he arrived in the suite. Now that was a fancy little setup of some kind. It wouldn't have surprised Sixteen to learn that Njon likely had a number of such spots stashed away on Nar Shaddaa where he could conduct his business. "Mr. Yoren's nightclub is hardly draining to Mr. Anjiliac's coffers, as I'm sure you could agree... if you could comment on that matter, after all. As for my organization, you may well be surprised how far it has expanded. Hutt Space is simply a logical extension by which we can make friends with."
Sixteen took a seat on one of the couches, the holster protruding from under his left arm rather obvious. He wasn't quite going to go in completely unarmed, after all. Not here and not with Njon. "I'm quite comfortable, Mr. Neese. Now perhaps if we can reach an accord today, I can see what might be done on getting more trust built. After all, everyone knows the Hutts run a criminal empire. For those who are not Hutts though, a certain amount of anonymity must be kept for safety. Nonetheless, I've come with an offer for Mr. Anjiliac that I believe he will find quite lucrative and interesting enough for him to perhaps overlook the small issue we just had in orbit. Either way, this is your show Mr. Neese."
The Citadel's Contractors
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| Njon_the_Hutt | Date: Friday, 18 May 2012, 4:26 PM | Message # 10 |
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Major
Group: Users
Messages: 90
Status: Offline
| "No," Njon the Hutt's deep bass voice seemed to fill the entire room, "It's mine." He could have meant it literally, as it happened--the Hutt's visage had appeared on the holoscreen. He was large enough in person, and far larger on the screen. His voice, heard through speakers throughout the room, would literally surround Donocha. It was less intimidating than being in the Hutt's actual presence, however. Still, appearing to Donocha at all was a compromise for the Hutt. It indicated that Njon wanted more information on Donocha's organization and was willing to accommodate him somewhat to get it. And if accommodation failed? Well, Donocha was in a basement surrounded by Njon's thugs. The Hutt had options. "I didn't think you'd come to apologize," Njon boomed, the expression on his enormous face unreadable, but certainly unamused. "I'll hear your offer, out of professional courtesy if nothing else."
During the time he'd stalled Donocha, Njon had quietly ordered the entirety of the Hutt Cartel to what one might call "defcon"--that is, heightened readiness. The attack on the Wild Thing couldn't be repeated now that the rest of Njon's ships were actually paying attention. He'd also put in calls to his point men and family members throughout Hutt Space ordering them on alert also. Calls were made to the Desilijics and Besadiis as well; rivals or not, an attack on "the Hutts" was an attack on them all. The Hutts were prone to internal strife, but never to anyone else's benefit.
Njon Anjiliac (alias "Njon the Hutt")
■ Owner and CEO of Anjiliac™ brand Spiced Wines, Ltd., known leader of the Anjiliac crime family, suspected leader of the Hutt Cartel.
■ Suspected of grand larceny, embezzlement, extortion, and trafficking in slaves, spice, liquors, and weapons.
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| Blackfire_Contacts | Date: Saturday, 19 May 2012, 10:43 AM | Message # 11 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 110
Status: Offline
| Sixteen twitched for a moment as Njon practically appeared out of thin air, albeit on the screen with full surround sound. Schooling himself to a calmer state of mind, he sat up so as to be more presentable, rather than slouching in the couch and looking like a nobody. Albeit, even within Blackfire, Sixteen was not a major member, but neither was he a hired gun, so to speak.
"Mr. Anjiliac, I am pleased that you are willing to spare me some of your time. You are correct though; I did not come to apologize. An eye for an eye, perhaps, is the best way to begin. We are even in that regard now. However, I will put forth what I have been instructed to put forth as our offer.
"You saw the weapon that was utilized in orbit. The organization I represent can get you access to weapons of this caliber. Weapons, delivery systems, experimental warheads that no military force, even the Empire, currently possesses. My organization knows the location, the guards, ways in and out of the storage areas for these items. Furthermore, the people I represent are interested in doing business with you. A Huttese partner would expand the sphere of influence.
"In return, the business front on Nar Shaddaa will remain unmolested by your forces and allowed to operate, and we will limit any business ventures into Hutt Space that are not run through you directly."
The Citadel's Contractors
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| Njon_the_Hutt | Date: Sunday, 17 Jun 2012, 9:42 PM | Message # 12 |
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Major
Group: Users
Messages: 90
Status: Offline
| Donocha was misunderstanding Hutt logic on this. Yoren's intrusion on Hutt turf had started this; under the eye-for-an-eye principle, razing Yoren's club had made them "even." Now, Blackfire's attack on the Wild Thing had tipped the scales again. But Njon wasn't necessarily a fan of the eye-for-an-eye principle—it made both you and your opponent blind, unless your opponent had a distinct advantage in the number of eyes it had. A Gran, say, or Force forbid, a Harch. Njon didn't mention this to Donocha, however. He doubted the Human would appreciate the nuance. Humans were feral creatures—they lived short lives, full of pain, at the mercy of their passion and pride. Strength and weakness is what they understood.
"Boska, Donocha. You must think me a fool," Njon boomed, obviously skeptical of the proposal. "You would supply me with these weapons you could use yourself, so that you're free to operate on Nar Shaddaa? You know well you're free to operate on Nar Shaddaa for the standard protection rate. So what's the real reason you want the Cartel mixed up in this? Enough of your lies."
Njon Anjiliac (alias "Njon the Hutt")
■ Owner and CEO of Anjiliac™ brand Spiced Wines, Ltd., known leader of the Anjiliac crime family, suspected leader of the Hutt Cartel.
■ Suspected of grand larceny, embezzlement, extortion, and trafficking in slaves, spice, liquors, and weapons.
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| Blackfire_Contacts | Date: Monday, 18 Jun 2012, 8:32 AM | Message # 13 |
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Lieutenant colonel
Group: Users
Messages: 110
Status: Offline
| "No lies at all, Mr. Anjiliac," Sixteen responded. He rose to his feet, clasping his hands before him so that they hung down by his belt. "The problem is the payment of protection fees. My organization would rather initiate a one-time deal with you and bring you in on a partnership level to have better access to Nar Shaddaa to reap profits rather than lose a large amount, either in paying extortion monies to you or engaging in a war. It's not profitable to either of us, Mr. Anjiliac."
Sixteen took a deep breath, pausing for a moment. "A sign of good faith, Mr. Anjiliac. The organization I work for is called Blackfire. The reason we want your help, not the entire Hutt Cartel, is because Blackfire wishes to secure the designs for the weapon utilized against your craft, as well as even more powerful experimental weaponry. The problem, however, is that we can't be the ones linked to an assault on the facility where they are kept. We have the knowledge, Mr. Anjiliac; layouts, access, defensive estimates, but this is an operation that's too large for us to handle alone.
"So what do you say, Mr. Anjiliac?"
The Citadel's Contractors
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| Njon_the_Hutt | Date: Monday, 18 Jun 2012, 4:08 PM | Message # 14 |
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Major
Group: Users
Messages: 90
Status: Offline
| Njon was still skeptical, but he appreciated the honesty, at least. He'd suspected Blackfire, to be honest―an upstart crime organization and, so far, the stuff of rumor. But though a closely-guarded secret, someone on Antared had caught the name, "Blackfire," and it fit the profile of the cloak and dagger sort that Njon had encountered. He wondered how much the Empire knew about Blackfire, and reminded himself to find out the next time he hot-boxed it with his Imperial contact.
"Hmm," Njon purred, holding his hands before him contemplatively as he considered what he'd heard. "Tell me more about this facility..."
* * *
Njon Anjiliac (alias "Njon the Hutt")
■ Owner and CEO of Anjiliac™ brand Spiced Wines, Ltd., known leader of the Anjiliac crime family, suspected leader of the Hutt Cartel.
■ Suspected of grand larceny, embezzlement, extortion, and trafficking in slaves, spice, liquors, and weapons.
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| Njon_the_Hutt | Date: Wednesday, 04 Jul 2012, 9:45 PM | Message # 15 |
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Major
Group: Users
Messages: 90
Status: Offline
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Njon Anjiliac (alias "Njon the Hutt")
■ Owner and CEO of Anjiliac™ brand Spiced Wines, Ltd., known leader of the Anjiliac crime family, suspected leader of the Hutt Cartel.
■ Suspected of grand larceny, embezzlement, extortion, and trafficking in slaves, spice, liquors, and weapons.
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