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A Fateful Meeting in Hutt Space
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| Walther_Fiske | Date: Saturday, 17 Oct 2009, 8:57 PM | Message # 1 |
 Sergeant
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| "5% nonvariable share of spice revenues, and no less than 70% of our annual demand for labor, in the form of slaves," said Walther Thaddeus Fiske, his stately Coruscanti accent rather wasted on a sentence that he considered beneath him; he resented having to negotiate with the Hutts, let alone having to endure their stench. This one could have at least agreed to meet with him in a room with adequate ventilation, instead of a wine cellar that smelled of spice and, one assumed, the Hutt's emissions. It was also disrespectful. Was he not the Minister of State of the Galactic Empire? Was he not deserving of a more regal reception? He'd even come with his uniform pressed and his boots and brass polished; now, when he returned he would need to have them cleaned before he could even bear to look at them again, let alone to wear them. As he sat opposite Njon Anjiliac at the Hutt's desk, Fiske took some quiet comfort in the notion that, no matter the slight, the Galactic Empire had it within its power—if it so chose—to obliterate this entire world and every smelly, slimey, sweaty creature that called it home. No one would miss Nar Shaddaa, except perhaps Fiske's superiors who had sent him on this diplomatic mission to persuade the Hutts to part with a share of the lucrative spice market, and some slaves (both spice and slaves, of course, being regarded as "commodities" by both parties). Now that peace had been made with the Rebels, and the war was over, the Empire could spend less of its time and resources battling the Republic and more of it on domestic affairs; the quashing of dissent, for instance, or deals such as this one. It also meant that the Empire could use the entirety of its fleet, and its willingness and ability to use it, as a rather convincing bargaining chip with the Hutts should these negotiations fail. Fiske had the distinct impression that Anjiliac seemed to enjoy his discomfort in this cellar, but the Minister of State need only conjure the image in his mind of a Star Destroyer slagging the moon's cityscape to put himself at ease. "And what is it that you want?" he asked the Hutt, "We are prepared to offer the use of our ships for the transport of spice and slaves, a guarantee that we will not invade the Hutt Empire for as long as our share is forthcoming, and that we will prevail upon the Republic insofar as we can to cease its incursions into your territory, and its anti-slavery operations. Admiral Pellaeon himself wished me to stress to you that this is as far as we are willing to concede."
Walther Thaddeus Fiske
Imperial Minister of State
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| Njon_the_Hutt | Date: Saturday, 17 Oct 2009, 11:44 PM | Message # 2 |
 Major
Group: Users
Messages: 90
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| Njon Anjiliac leaned back in the chair that he had had specially designed for him and smiled broadly—very broadly, as only a Hutt could. He had anticipated Fiske's distaste for his species and so had deliberately made him as uncomfortable as possible. The Hutt had a respectable suite elsewhere on Nar Shaddaa (and a posh one on his commandship, the Franchise), but he had chosen the cellar merely to reinforce the Minister's underestimation of him. It was also helpful in the negotiations: Njon could tell that Fiske was in a hurry to leave, because he had already laid out all of his terms. It was very bad form. "We will expect all of these things from you," he answered in Huttese. For this occasion, he had chosen a Toydarian from among his interpreters because, he suspected, it was another species that would be repugnant to Fiske's taste. "With respect," he added, "your most kind promise not to invade us is rather nescient of you." He paused for moment while the Toydarian translated 'nescient,' then continued, "I assure you such an invasion would be ill advised; the Republic may tresspass upon us on occasion, but they are never so foolish as to threaten an invasion, or so foolish as to believe they could succeed with one." "Then again, the Empire has always been more foolish than the Republic." The Hutt laughed the deep, booming laugh that Hutts were known for, then raised a stubby, polite hand to preempt the Minister's indignation. "We will do business with you, Minister, but we will require something else from you as well," he added. "The Republic has in its custody a human named Gordon Holt; he was the Captain of a Star Destroyer, sentenced to life in prison for war crimes. I want this man delivered to me, alive. Once he is on Nar Shaddaa, in my custody, we will have a deal."
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_Anjiliac - Tuesday, 20 Oct 2009, 5:03 PM |
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| Walther_Fiske | Date: Sunday, 18 Oct 2009, 2:16 PM | Message # 3 |
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Sergeant
Group: Users
Messages: 33
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| Fiske's esteem for the Hutts as a species—or rather, his lack thereof—had been vindicated, as far as he was concerned, by this meeting. However, while he would abide the Hutt's poor accomodation, his smug demeanor, and even his disrespect, he certainly would not suffer the indignity of seeing his Empire insulted; the very Empire that had approached the Hutts with good faith in the first place. "If you mean to suggest that your flotilla is a match for the Imperial Starfleet, Sir, I take great exception," he said, derisively. He would leave it at this, however, rather than explain to Anjiliac precisely how many hours it would take to pummel his homeworld into a fifth of its current size, thus wiping it off galactic maps as a mere planetoid, no longer a planet. "As for this Holt," he went on, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly, "How exactly do you propose that the Empire should procure a man in the Republic's custody? It's absurd, and unreasonable to impose such an arbitrary condition on this agreement. What interest is one man to you, in any event?"
Walther Thaddeus Fiske
Imperial Minister of State
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| Njon_the_Hutt | Date: Sunday, 18 Oct 2009, 3:06 PM | Message # 4 |
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Major
Group: Users
Messages: 90
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| "'Arbitrary,' 'absurd,' 'unreasonable,' and whatever else the condition might be, it is still just that: a condition of this agreement," Njon answered with some exasperation, as though he were admonishing a child. It was unlikely that the Minister would realize this, however, as a Hutt's verbal cues were far more subtle than a human's and, in any case, the Toydarian wasn't quite doing him justice (Njon did know Basic, but spoke his ancestral tongue as a matter of principle. It was, also, a far more elegant language). He shifted his weight in the chair, which creaked beneath him. "Our interest in the good Captain doesn't concern you," he went on, "and how you retrieve him does not concern us. You may accept the deal, Minister, or decline it." As "arbitrary" as the condition seemed, however, it was not at all to the Hutts. Njon's species lived for a long time and, accordingly, had a long memory; they did not forget easily, as Mr. Holt would soon wish that they did. The Captain's deception of the Hutts, and the crime war that he'd helped to instigate against them, had cost the lives of many of Njon's associates, including several from his own Anjiliac clan. More importantly, it had cost them money. And most importantly, it had embarassed the Cartel. A mere life sentence was simply not a satisfactory punishment by Hutt standards. Holt, too, had sought a share of the Hutts' spice revenues. It was only appropriate that this Imperial, Fiske, should help to avenge the sins of the last one. "I do not question your starfleet," Njon added with a dismissive wave of his hand, "although I would remind you that we once bested your ships over this very world, some years ago. No, Minister, it's your strategy that is at fault. You act too impulsively in all things; your species lives for a matter of decades, and mine lives for centuries. We have the time to premeditate. You do not, which is why your Empire lasted for the life span of just one man, and ours has existed for twenty thousand years. But we digress," he returned to the subject at hand, "What say you, of our deal?"
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_Anjiliac - Tuesday, 20 Oct 2009, 5:04 PM |
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| Walther_Fiske | Date: Sunday, 18 Oct 2009, 4:38 PM | Message # 5 |
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Sergeant
Group: Users
Messages: 33
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| Fiske was pleased, at least, that the meeting had ended, he reflected to himself from the comfort of his shuttle as it departed Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere half an hour after he'd been compelled to shake the Hutt's stubby, sweaty hand. He was far less pleased with the deal he had agreed to. Of course he had agreed to it—what choice did he have?—but it presented him with a considerable dilemma: how to retrieve a war criminal from a New Republic prison? In terms of considerable dilemmas, however, Walther Fiske was the man perhaps best suited to handle them. He had an analytical mind that assessed a problem and its possible solutions in all of their dimensions. He was not an emotional man, which was generally regarded as a benefit in the Empire anyway; he made a very fine bureaucrat. The first question he posed to himself was whether to inform the Old Man or not. Undoubtedly, Admiral Pellaeon would frown upon this provision and regret that Fiske had accepted it. He'd also made it clear, on many occasions, that the Empire was not to provoke the Republic in any manner that could be considered a violation of the peace treaty. The second question; would a violation of the treaty be necessary? How exactly would Holt be extricated? Prison break? Out of the question. Covert operation, perhaps? Too risky. No, the Empire needed leverage against the Republic, to demand Holt's release. A prisoner exchange, perhaps? But the Empire held no more prisoners of war, since the treaty had called for their release. Hmm. The beginnings of a plan were forming in Fiske's mind, as he stared contemplatively out the viewport of his shuttle as it jumped to lightspeed. Yes, he had it.
Walther Thaddeus Fiske
Imperial Minister of State
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