Log:Hutt Cartel: Illicit Minerals

Hutt Cartel: Illicit Minerals

OOC Date: January 21, 2020
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Mak the Hutt, Vex, Slick, Saturi, Alana Zee, Lefty

"Ain't got no brakes on mah freighter, no pickles in mah soup! Ah'm haulin' ass from Zergnux City ta.... uh...

uh...

Uh....

LEFTY!"

As he welds together what appear to be random pieces of metal, the King of Smugglers delights one and all with a rousing rendition of his Outlaw Trucking Song in Progress. It's still untitled, but Mak is leaning toward 'The Ballad of Handsome Zlurbo', if he ever finishes writing it.

Unfortunately, Basic is his second language and he's not very good at rhyming.

As he calls out for his faithful majordomo, a skinny green Twi'lek with only one lekku peeks around the corner with a scared look on his face. Lefty the One-Lekkued Twi'lek Dude is the one who knows how to rhyme. Or at least he did before he mysteriously had his lekku bit off.

"What can I do for you, Mak?" The Twi'lek Dude says in a timid voice.

"You can tell me what'n hell rhymes with SOUP, is what!"

Mak puts his 'h' before his 'w' when he says 'what.'

"Swoop." Vex chimes in, coming from somewhere behind the Nebuloo, rubbing her grimy hands on a grimier rag. "Scoop, snoop, coop," She continues in somewhat sing-song form, head bobbing from one side to the other with every word offered, "Dupe," She takes in a quick breath, holding it as she pauses in her idle approach. "... Recoup..." She's runnin' on fumes! Still, some solid suggestions there.

"Fo-oodh." Sshylisk - Slick - offers. Where there's Vex, there's usually Slick. He's personally just grimy, shoulders hunched, clawed three-taloned hands hanging limply down at his sides, he pauses - taking a cloth - and promptly wipes it on his face, buffing off some of the grime to reveal.. Well. He's still a grouchy looking Trandoshan. Some things just can't be fixed with just a cloth.

His nostrils flare a few times as he contemplates what he stated previously, and he tilts his head up for a moment. Sniff. *SNIFF*... *SNIFFFFFF*..

"I smell Mufkins."

Saturi comes in from the edge of the hangar, escorted by a Hutt guard as well as her personal protection. Her golden eyes scan over Mak and his party as she approaches. The woman leans over to whisper something to her bodyguard, then to the Hutt escort. She fires a quiet glance at both Vex and Slick...barely remembering their faces from a few days prior.

The group halts just before the Hutt Lord, the security agent walking over to catch Lefty's attention. Alana is also grimy, but mostly on the inside. She looks up at the terrible clamor of poetry and catches Slick's observation, and it's not clear which of the two makes her scowl more. Closing her notebook - it's like a datapad that can be dropped repeatedly without more than cosmetic damage - she slips it into a pocket and sniffs audibly. "I'm not a Mufkin," she retorts, soft enough to be passively aggressive rather than just aggressive.

Lefty looks personally horrified by most of these suggestions, but he's been in a very fragile mental state ever since someone mysteriously bit off one of his lekku. The left one, ironically.

"I don't know... feels like there's a better one. One that really has the right flavor for the song, ya know? I swear, I can almost feel it on my tongue..."

Lord Zlurbo Qwig Makooja, First of His Name, King of Smugglers, Outlaw Trucker, and Barely Competent Welder, continues to mull over his lyrical choices behind his very dark welding goggles. But as the personal security detail arrives, he pushes his goggles back up onto his wide-brimmed hat, showing off his bulbous yellow eyes, which have been made even more bulbous due to the suction cup action of the goggles.

Big rings around his eyes, makes him look like an entirely different sort of outlaw.

"Well sheeeeeeeit FIRE! Lookit here, boys!" He calls both Vex and Slick boys, despite it not really being true of either of them. "We got us some vis'tors... uh... maybe we should let VEX be the one to greet 'em, Slick. You know what happens when you try to do words."

Vex's head slowly turns toward Mak at his final statement, dark lips pursing as she considers this. "... I mean, do I have to?" Gosh. He's not her -real- dad. The look on her face as she stares toward the hutt is a plaintiff thing, something that suggests she's terribly upset with him, and will probably lock herself in her room later and blast some tragic and painfully loud music once inside. He just doesn't understand her.

She takes in a sharp breath, the tubes of light that are tangled throughout her hair sparking to brilliant life, dimly glowing eyes flicking to one side to look toward Saturi. She huffs out that breath and forces a fangy cheeser onto her lips then, a wolfish quality to the entire affair that suggests more than mirth lingers beneath her thin veneer of good cheer and empty pleasantries. "-SO- good to see you again. Still on with that mining business?" She begins, "Good for you, glad to hear it. Sooo..." She places her cybernetic hand on her hip, drumming pointed fingers against the leather there, chin lifting slightly. "Whaddaya want?"

She's amazing with words.

Her gaze flicks toward Alana, one of her manicured brows lifting sharply, eyes squinting. "Pretty sure he means actual mufkins. You been eatin' mufkins?"

You know when people have the right amount of brains to understand a social situation? Yeah. Not Slick. Slick is not simple, he just doesn't really think much. The talons that are his toenails clack on the metallic floor as he takes a step forwards - you know, as if he's big enough to take a blaster bolt for a Hutt like Mak - and then just leaves it like that. You know. A Trandoshan just in the way. His mouth opens, and then Mak speaks up, and he takes a step back and away, sliding back so that Vex is the one that's all stepped forwards, with him rather vaguely looming. "Yessss, Bosss. Very true. Vex talksss far better. Sssshe'ss the brainsss for a reasson." He offers.

He then inhales sharply again, turning to look towards Alana. The pits of his nostrils flare wide as he inhales sharply a few more times. He pauses. "You ssssmell vaguely like one. It'ssss the grime. Addssss flavour." He then stage whispers to Vex, lacking any sort of subtlety. "I'm hungry, now."

Saturi breaks into a seemingly ritual bow towards Makooja...rather than at Vex, regardless if she is speaking at her or not. The Pantoran's eyes snap into contact with the Falleen woman. "We are here to speak with the Lord." Her words roll off the tongue with a polite taste, but her facial expression screams moderate agitation. "One of my runners backed out last minute." The blue woman lets out a light huff. "We are looking for an immediate replacement."

A blue hand dips into a pouch sewn into her dress to unholster a datapad. "Here are the specifications of the cargo. Illicit minerals." The datapad is offered out to Vex.

Alana wipes her nose with the back of her hand before examining that hand carefully, as if mentally grading the deposit on a scale of one to ten. Then she looks up at Vex, tilting her head to the side in a moderately insulting way, and replies with a catty "No. But you have." Finally her gaze tracks to the Trandoshan. "Bite me." Probably not the wisest thing she's said all day. Or week. Or year.

"Illicit minerals? Hot damn! Ain't she get a perty way with words? AND a perty mouth! Illicit minerals... I like it. Real... whatsa word I'm lookin for?"

Taking the datapad in one hand, Mak scratches at the Hutt equivalent of a forehead with the other. He can't reach much higher than his forehead, despite the years of steroids and gene mods, but he'll get there one day.

"Evocative?" A timid, One-Lekkued Twi'lek Dude offers from his safe spot well out of biting distance from either Mak or Slick.

"EVOCATIVE! Thatsa word! Sure you two ain't related!? Ha ha! I'm just kiddin'... Lefty's a twillik..."

Browsing the datapad, the King of Smugglers nods contemplatively, making occasional grunts or clicks with his tongue. Every now and then, there's a gentle 'Mm-hmmmm.....'

There's a slow decline in her smile as Vex looks toward Saturi. "Mm," The corners of her lips quirk upward again, though the smile she wears now lacks any sort of warmth. She looks down at the datapad, then back to Saturi. "That's a shame, diddums. You go on ahead and give it to him yourself." And then Alana speaks, and her attentions are turned that way, lips once again twitching as she turns away from the both of them and strides her way on past Mak.

"Your friends lack manners, and mine can only be stretched so far, Boss. This ain't my job," She lifts her hand to give a wiggly-fingered wave over her shoulder as she makes her way back toward the Nebuloo, and the crew that has already neared to service it. "Toodle-pip kriffity-ciao."

She gestures for Slick, "C'mon, Slick. You don't wanna put that in your mouth, pretty sure it's the sorta filthy you don't wanna get a taste of."

Slick's head tilts to the side, confusion written in his features. It turns into irritation, as he narrows his eyes a bit, and then straightens his head upright again. His jaws snap once before he straightens up, huffing a breath before he turns himself around, lumbering and slow. "OK, Vex." He replies to her, talons clacking on the metal plates as he follows after her on the way to the Nebuloo.

He raises his left hand, tapping one talon under his eye before pointing at Alana, before he drops his arm back down. He begins jogging to catch up with Vex. "I'll treat usss to sssomething to eat, yesss? Not Mufkinsss for once. We'll try ssssome foreign cuissssine."

Saturi follows Vex's advice and hands over the datapad to the Hutt, the device being swiftly taken from her hand.

"Yes. Evocative." The blue woman responds with a hint of sarcasm. "That is indeed a word." Her facial expression screams discomfort. This is /not/ a normal Hutt. Every other lord she has met has held a certain decorum. "I hope you find everything in order." She continues, not certain what to say.

The Pantoran looks to Lefty, still waiting to be introduced...or have her presence announced in tradition...but a bit of fear shows, as she is under the impression that there will be no formal introduction...no bugles call and announcement.

Alana's smirking gaze follows the departing duo, watching them until they are out of sight. Then she leans back and pulls out her notepad again. She brings it to her chest, hugging it against herself as she turns her attention to Saturi. She's curious. Well, not so much curious as flat-out nosy. But since the blue woman is talking to the Hutt, she doesn't get all interrupty, yet.

"Mm-hmmm..."

"Mm-hmmm..."

"Hm?

"Mm-hmm..."

Not only does Mak lack any sense of decorum, he actively despises it. It would be easy to picture him working as a cattle hand or in a mechanic's shop. Easy, that is, if he weren't obviously an enormous Hutt with no real blue collar skills.

Eventually, he looks up at the woman, and sorts out that she seems to be waiting on something. Looking at her with those bulbous yellow, slightly bloodshot eyes, he seems genuinely confused for a second, and looks at Lefty.

"I'm sorry, uh... why hell... where's my manners!? Dagblast it, Lefty! How come you didn't offer her no TEA!? Cantcha see she's a lady-type female?"

The green Twi'lek man leans in, and whispers something into Mak's ear, which causes the Hutt to both relax a bit and scowl at the same time.

"Dammit Lefty! Sorry about that, my Cer-ooool-bian beauty... Lefty's a hell of a lover, but he ain't been right in the head since his accident. He just ain't got the mind fer... uh... social... uh... well... I don't need to tell YOU, what with you bein' a lady-type female and all... and you can bet I'll be takin' a hand to his backside over this LATER!"

Lefty looks down at his feet.

"Mizz Zee... maybe you could help me out here a little bit. Seems my majordomo don't know how to treat a GUEST the way they oughta be treated. Would you mind fetching us some.... uh... crackers?" Mak looks at the blue woman as if desperately looking for some clue as to what it is that blue people eat.

Saturi looks to her bodyguard, a human man by the name of Klufe. She whispers with concern, "It's speaking in basic." The woman almost laughs as she musters the confidence to whisper any more in front of the Hutt. "What if whoever taught him played a sick joke?" Her facial expression shifts to something of remorse for the poor Lord.

"Your magnificence." She address Mak in Huttese, her own strange accent likely bleeding in. "There is no need to feed me." Her blue hand motions at herself. "I am Saturi Kavan. A business owner. We mine asteroids."

"Crackers." Alana can deadpan like a pro. She rises to her feet, "Yes, Lord Hutt, I will fetch the lady-type female some crackers. And of course some tea," she adds blandly. "Milk and lemon?" she asks Saturi with wide, not-at-all-innocent eyes. If she understands the Huttese, she doesn't show it. "Or some of the hard stuff? And I will certainly bring some emulsified lactate to go with the crackers. I believe the mold is excellent this season." Alana is the type who, in another galaxy far far away, would serve Velveeta at a formal banquet.

Apparently sensing His Magnificence's displeasure, Lefty accompanies the all-too-agreeable Alana, following closely behind like a meek child. Surely he'll be able to find whatever it is that Mak needs, oh look Mak is actually giving him a hand gesture! It looks like he's pouring an invisible bottle into his mouth. Not exactly subtle.

"Yeah... yeah... I see that here. Asteroid minin'... HELLUVA thing. My grandhutt always used to tell me, he'd say 'Zlurbo! Minin's the dagblasted EPIDERMIS of the economy!' He'd say 'Zlurbo! Always remember, if'n you ever do bidness with a MINER, you make sure and... you give 'em the friends and family discount!' Thats what he used to say, my grandhutt!"

Whacking at the datapad dramatically with the back of his pudgy hand, and leaving a giant pudgy smear on it, Mak looks back at the miner and her retinue, puffing his chest out to bellow even louder than his normal 'inside voice.'

"Errything looks in order here. You got some cargo needs moved... tonnage looks good... and it looks like you're takin' care of packagin'... Hell... I can pick it up MYSELF! PERSONALLY! I'll be out thattaway anyhow!"

Saturi scowls to her guard with confusion before glancing up at the Hutt Lord. "Your Grand...he was a wise...Grandhutt." The woman stumbles over her own words, not sure of how to respond but with a smirk. "Though, we would not want to waste /your/ time for such an insignficant matter when one of your staff would do." Her golden eyes look to Alana and a dismissive shake of the head is given.

"Not that we would not -appreciate- your presense. We simply do not expect it...in any form."

Everyone knows that Twi'lek are poor connoisseurs of cheese. More accurately, Alana thinks that Twi'lek are poor connoisseurs of cheese, so she says to Lefty, "Is there any of that really stinky cheese, the one that smells like a wet Wookie in heat? The Lord Hutt will appreciate some of that. No, not for his guest, he doesn't want to kill the woman. It's for him. And some of that red liquor from the freighter that was seized. Make it two bottles." She talks like one of those irritating little Imperial-toaster-on-wheels droids moves. "For the female-type lady, I'll get the crackers. I know how ladies like them." Very doubtful, Alana, very doubtful.

"Indeed. Innnnndeed. Taught me errythin' I know, my Grandhutt. And that's how come when ya use Triple-Aurek FREIGHT, ya know you're not just gettin' a garrrr-AN-teee.... you're gettin' yourself a MAKOOJA PROMISE! Ha ha!"

Mak smacks the datapad again with his pudgy hand, only to then throw it over his nonexistant shoulder after he's finished his sentence.

"Your cargo will be safe with me, little lady! Don't you worry! Why, you ask anyone... anyone you wanna ask, you ask 'em. They'll say about Mak, they'll say 'Mak, now THERE'S a hard-workin' man! That Mak... why... he's just about he hard-workinest... out-drinkinest... fastest-blastinest... why... he's dadgum greased LIGHTNIN' with a blaster! You just ask around, ask anyone."

Back in the kitchen, Lefty cringes as if he knows exactly which type of cheese Alana is talking about. Only with great reluctance does he take her by the hand and lead her back through a set of doors guarded by a pair of (sleeping) Gamorrean guards.

"I must warn you... Lord Makooja is very unpredictable when he's on The Cheese. He becomes powerfully aroused, but even more powerfully hungry. That's how this happened..." Lefty points to his missing lekku. "I can go no further. If you wish to open The Cheese, you must follow your own path."

And with that, he is gone.