Log:Tatooine: Bend the Knee
Lord Borgol sends a group of negotiators to handle the swoop gang problem in Mos Eisley.
OOC Date: May 6, 2020
Location: Tatooine
Participants: Borgol the Hutt as GM, Amal Jha, Aola Ziveri, Fshmaw, Hahtavi Kora, Kin-Li Kel, Trip, Hutt Cartel
[Borgol the Hutt]
It is high noon by the time the first speeder from the palace of Lord Borgol the Hutt arrives on the outskirts of Mos Eisley. It's only a short while after that before that speeder carrying a group with an offer to make begins to thread its way through the alleyways and broader sandy thoroughfares of the city of ill repute. In the distance the whine of a swoop bike or two can be heard, but such is of little concern for the moment. It is the clubhouse of the swoop gang that the representatives of Lord Borgol's kajidic seek to rendevous.
Those who had sought a ride aboard the transport speeder jostle and sway with the movement of the speeder as it takes a turn, with the driver announcing over their shoulder, "Just up ahead!" he calls out while gesturing to what is best described as a maintenance barn. Even from down the alleyway a pair of swoop bikes can be seen sitting outside the barn. The large double doors of the maintenance barn stand ajar, permitting airflow but doing their best to bar the entry of sunlight.
Low, single story structures make up the walls of the alleyway. Each side of the path is little more than the exterior wall of some residential structure or another. The avenue eventually opens into a broader clearing where the maintenance barn rests as though some great beast within the depths of its den. As the speeder continues down the alleyway in the direction of that clearing, movement can be seen up ahead as the barn doors open further. Within a number of armed thugs - presumably the swoop gang members - can be seen beginning to filter out of the cover and into the noon sun. They are armed. They don't appear to pleased that unwanted visitors are wandering now their alley.
In only a moment the speeder will arrive at its destination outside the headquarters of the swoop gang that has recently began to plague the commerce of Mos Eisley. This provides the passengers aboard the speeder an opportunity to complete their final preparations.
[Amal Jha]
Amal, having found herself a place to wait out the ride, was half standing half sitting, her clothes having been chosen to, well..look she was wearing the same clothes as always. So, nothing to assist the woman in protecting herself from the heat of the sun. She waited with hands free, weapons neither drawn nor on display, though her attention shifted from a silent contemplation of the scenery to the way ahead once they made their way into the alleys. "We should disable those speeders. Eliminate their assets and prevent them from making their escape." Clearly, Amal's faith in their ability to negotiate was lacking.
[Trip]
Trip, the Kushiban, is aboard the vehicle awaiting its timely arrival at the establishment of the alleged swoop gang. If the creature was worried about the confrontation and subsequent outcome of the meeting, it failed to register on his fuzzy face. Contingencies bid they prepare for combat should these gangsters not recognize the larger predator in the area, but for Trip, this was all business.
Despite being a Kushiban, the creature cast a large shadow. He wore a complex armor that enhanced his capabilities in combat and made him faster. This armor, of course, kept him standing on two legs opposing the natural way most Kushiban preferred to walk (which was on all fours). This creature bore a single bandolier that doubled as a baldric, housing the small scabbard for his 'sword', which in truth was a large knife to anything larger than his size.
At the mention of disabling their vehicles, Trip counters with a calm, "Let us see to business before we cast stones at our prey. Examples can be made should they prove.. difficult."
[Hahtavi Kora]
As the official speeder comes up through the alley towards the Swoop gang house and vehicle shed, another vehicle arrives by air from above. It is a sleek black atomospheric fighter craft more than a typical civilian air speeder. Eight meters long, it slowly circles the roof tops of the buildings and then begins to sink down to land in the clearing that is about 30 meters across. The fixed mounts on the gunship are angled to point right at the 'barn' the gangers are coming out of and presumably have their swoops stored within.
Once landed, the Corp. Sector X-17A Air Speeder powers down. But for the moment, the cockpit doesn't open up, yet.
[Kin-Li Kel]
Kin-Li Kel is silent through most of the speeder journey. His time is spent checking, re-checking, then re-re-checking the blaster charge packs, the knife, the sword, the translator droid the...everything. He did not come unprepared. For much of anything, really.
His voice, when it comes in answer to Amal Jha, is distorted and clipped by the helmet's speaker. <They might take that the wrong way. Of course, if they are all dead, the problems here will be over.> His shrug is faint. <But if that's the play, we should simply disperse, take cover, and do that before we even talk to them.> He lays a Galaar-15 across his lap; it is heavily modified. The safety is off.
[Fshmaw]
Fshmaw's purplish-red sweat beads on his forehead, undoubtedly costing Borgol money as it drips indelibly on the cab's floor. Armored for action, he barks something that is languidly translated by his belt-unit as: "Business will be... attempted." He pats his (visible) sidearm.
[Borgol the Hutt]
A towering mountain of Red Nikto strolls out from the open doorways of the maintenance garage that comprises the makeshift hangar for the local swoop gang. He's clearly spent a great deal of time collecting scars and his bearing seems as severe as one may expect of such an individual. Following the Red Nikto comes three or four others, likely younger and leaner than their apparent leader. They stand among the pair of parked swoops, watching the approach of the speeder and eventually shielding their eyes from the dust and sand kicked up by the landing of an atmospheric fighter in the clearing outside the barn. The Red Nikto gives a comment to one of his compatriots and lifts his chin, which in turn results in that Nikto turning and wandering back to the barn.
As the transport speeder trundles forward, it gradually slides to a halt and the driver comments back to the passenger bay, "We're here. Already got a welcoming committee too!" he says with a grin that's missing a tooth or four.
If the representatives of Lord Borgol don't end up killing or being killed? The twin suns of Tatooine may very well finish everyone involved on a long enough timeline.
Already the Red Nikto begins to move forward and waves an arm at the speeder as his guttural voice calls out in Basic, "Fancy meeting here! This is here is our alley and there's a toll for using it. That'll be a hundred credits!"
Those Nikto behind the Red Nikto give one another a series of sidelong glances and knowing smiles.
[Amal Jha]
Amal, having offered her idea, did not reply in an argumentative way as the idea was shot down. She simply prepped herself for arrival. As soon as the speeder came to a halt, Amal hopped down, ignoring the puff of sand and dust that her weight kicked up around her feet. Still, she held no weapons, as she moved into what would have been about a four o'clock position to the group of niktos. The announcement of the toll for passage brought the slightest cant of the woman's head. "Only 100 credits?" That, she seemed to offer more to the group who came with her than the group who stood ahead of her. "Clearly, working their way up from the bottom. I mean, as tolls go, that seems a bit meager, don't you think?"
[Trip]
Trip disembarks the speeder landing outside with a heavy *THUUNK*, the armor dead weight enough to percuss that arrival before he turns to regard the Nikto and gang with an amused look. Taking the time to adjust his appearance, Trip slicks back his ears and his tail begins to playfully flick back and forth, the telltale that his mind was locked in thought.
"My good friends, the sand upon which we stand, the air you breathe, the fuel you pump, and the time you spend here.. all belongs to Lord Borgol. This planet, this system for that matter, falls under his purview. This meeting is .. an opportunity."
Trips steps forward bravely grinning a bucktooth grin as his ears move from being laid along his back, hanging, to standing up and alert. "On Tatooine, business of all kind, owe fealty to Lord Borgol. You will be no different. I am Trip, Consigliere of the Hutt Cartel and loyal servant to the Voice of the Five Families. My companions here serve the will of the Council, and we have come to offer you an opportunity to do the same. What say we discuss business to the mutual benefit of our.. organizations?"
[Hahtavi Kora]
The Corp. Sector X-17A Air Speeder that looks like a sleek black fighter craft doesn't open up. It just sits there. The canopy is smokey black to the point that it's hard to tell by looking at it where the durasteel ends and the duraplast canopy starts, let alone see who or what the pilot might be. It seems that for now the pilot waits, let the others talk and see how things go from there.
Inside of the aerofighter, Hahtavi Kora sits patiently watching and listening through his external pick ups. The Mandalorian is armored and has his rifle already attached to hang down the front by his tactical rig with his webbing clipped right over it for quick release and jetpacking up and out when the canopy opens.
If the canopy opens. Through his helmet's T-visor the Mando watches Amal gracefully ease forward for an amusing chat. Trip, Kin-Li, and others joining her
Meanwhile, Hahtavi is marking gangers in his helmet's HUD for the purpose of tracking targets.
[Fshmaw]
Fshmaw stands mute behind Trip, to one side, until called to action. What that action may be depends on the situation, but at present he simply inspects the swoopers for their reaction. The belt-mounted translator stands silent, Trip's words more than sufficing. Indeed they are a good deal more eloquent than Mr. Maw has ever been known to be!
[Kin-Li Kel]
Kin-Li Kel pushes easily out of the speeder, and his Galaar-15 is left to drop, hanging from a sling at the slender armored figure's side as the 'diplomacy' phase of this operation commences. He does not interrupt. Instead, he spreads out to one side, taking a standard tactical spacing of 5 meters.
He answers Amal, speakers turned low to not distract the negotiator, <Just a token, I reckon. Amateurs, flexing.> He shrugs, the thumb of his left hand hooked into his gunbelt...and conveniently leaving his hand less than 20 centimeters from the highly modified DH-17 at his side. His head tracks slowly, left to right, right to left, a motion that seems very regular, and measured.
[Borgol the Hutt]
"A hundred credits is good," the Red Nikto answers as he casually slides his thumbs into his gunbelt which sports a pair of blaster pistols. His chest puffs out and he announces proudly, as though he's discovered the secret of economics, "Why charge a thousand credits that only ten people will pay? When you can charge a hundred and get fifty people to pay?"
Math. Hard.
The Red Nikto spares a glance to his shoulders to his fellow Nikto compatriots. Then he turns a leering smile back toward the speeder and its occupants that begin to unload from it, "We're running a special today though..."
Then he trails off as individuals begin to fan out and he seems to grasp the unfolding situation. His baleful eyes turn to regard Trip as the Kushiban makes his presentation. Behind the Red Nikto, a number of other Nikto begin to fan out as well as though in reflection of the representatives of the Hutt Cartel.
Meanwhile the Red Nikto barks out a laugh as he answers back at Trip, "The Hutts haven't been around for how long? We're making business happen here, but let's say we're interested. What sort of mutual benefit is Borgol looking to have?" The Red Nikto considers the gathering as his hands move closer to his pistols. Not so close as to draw them, but definitely close enough that he may reach for them if things suddenly go sour.
[Amal Jha]
There was a moment, as the Nikto showed off his math skills, when Amal was sourly tempted to correct him, but, alas, no. Math instruction would have to wait for another day. So too, would any other comment from the echani woman, as Trip stepped forward to begin negotiations. rather than engage in further banter, though Kin-Li did receive a nod of agreement, Amal's attention shifted to the niktos moving into position ahead of the Hutt contingent.
[Trip]
Trip chuckles, "My good friend, the Hutts have been conducting business for more than twenty thousand years. They do not have to be present to rule, that is the mettle of their influence. However, Tatooine has a present ruler, much to the benefit of all on planet who willingly serve. There is a benefit to having a Lord present, you know. For he may bear witness to the good business you bring to this world."
"Should you desire an opportunity to do more than extort credits, and say, make thousands of credits for various jobs that needs doing, Lord Borgol may see you and your gang rewarded for good, 'honest' work. When our.." Trip motions between himself and the gang, "..organizations work as one, we appear to be a larger predator. There are more jobs, and we're not in competition. /That/ is an important point. In your time living, name one organization that has outlived the Hutts. Do not worry, I will wait for an answer."
[Aola Ziveri]
Tension in Mos Eisley wasn't exactly a new experience for the locals, hell it wasn't even that strange for a mercenary like Aola...but unlike most of the heavily armed crowd? The blue-skinned twi'lek woman's talents lay in the cockpit of a starfighter or astride a swoop. This wasn't the sort of job for her...
It was however, by fate and chance, the -exact- thing the young woman in her flight suit with the top pulled down and tied off with sleeves to reveal the tank beneath was apparently going to stumble into as she rounded into the alleyway, a sweet fruit from a stall she was currently munching on in her hand.
[Hahtavi Kora]
Nobody can hear the Mando in the aerofighter laugh. Yeah, their math skills aren't too great. To himself, Hahtavi mutters inside of his cockpit, <"Ne-ver go-ing to make it as as-tro-ga-torz. Or much else, like-ly..."> Sigh, his continuing speech impediment annoying him after his serious injuries.
There's a good reason the Kora isn't out there trying to do the negociating. A Mandalorian usually negociates in a bit more forceful manner, anyway.
Haht turns his helmet and tries to peer into the darkness of that vehicle building. His helmet can do all sorts of augmented visual but looking through the tinted canopy mostly just throws back his own reflection and isn't going to let IR work either. So he waits.
[Fshmaw]
Fshmaw doesn't walk far, just abbreviated circles around Trip and the delegation. Violence hasn't been summoned, so the walrus moves with little urgency at all. Perhaps he makes a show of tinkering with his belt-translator, *oorf*ing as it offers (in variable pitch, tone and volume) "HE-llo. he-LLO? hi. HI. HihihihiHihI.." he smacks it back into compliance! Bad electronics!
[Kin-Li Kel]
Kin-Li Kel seems content to simply stand there, looking intimidating...though, his method of doing that is disconcertingly droid-like. His head continues to swivel, slowly, left and right, like a security cam. Or a gun turret. He doesn't otherwise move, content to watch.
[Borgol the Hutt]
The Red Nikto seems prepared to answer Trip with some highly intellectual answer. Likely the answer one would expect of some highly educated historian. His mouth hangs open while his thick finger aims itself toward the sky above. Before he ever speaks his hand drops to his side and he gives a little nod of his head. Again he considers the Cartel contingent before the Red Nikto lifts his chin and sneers through his words, "And how do we know that Borgol's going to pay us as well as we make ourselves? Mos Eisley's been good to us," he says with a sudden humored grin, "the people love us here! They've been more than happy to pay for our protection!"
There's some laughter that arises from the gathered Nikto. The Red Nikto then adds, "Borgol looking to buy us out? It's going to cost him for highly skilled help such as ourselves. Plus we have other skills too. Keen business management, you see?" He says this with a sweep of his arm, as though motioning to the clearing which they occupy.
If there was ever a time that a distraction was needed to get the jump on a potential adversary? Fshmaw seems to supply it. When his belt-translator begins to greet the Nikto over and over and over in varying pitches, tones, and volumes; all eyes turn to regard to Aqualish and his malfunctioning equipment.
[Amal Jha]
As negotiations were underway, Amal allowed Trip to do what he did best. Well, second best. Anyone who had seen the kushiban in action knew what he did best. Amal, leaving the purported leader of the group to others as she turned her attention to reading the room, as it were, watching each of the members as they laughed, or preened, or simply waited to see what their leader would do. It was always the little ones that proved the most skittish. That she remained standing as still as she was, did seem to indicate that she had not determined any more immediate danger than what had already presented itself.
[Trip]
"Ah, there it is," Trip comments tapping on his paw's wrist. "My time for patience has run out. See, my good friends, we did not come here to appeal to your good nature. We came to have you appeal to ours." Trip draws out his sword, sticking its tip into the sand and leaning on it slightly. "Suffice to say, I will begin the next phase of negotiation. I will use a currency we all understand, and it should serve as an answer to your question, sir. That currency? Your lives."
"For instance, the next time someone uses Lord Borgol's name absent the respect of his title will be executed. As it stands now, a crime has been committed and a plea before Lord Borgol's court has been made. Justice is the demand, and your gang has been identified as the perpetrator. I gave you a reasonable opportunity to swear fealty to Lord Borgol, but you insult me with distrust."
"So, the current tab, as it stands, is that one person must die to answer for the crimes of extortion and theft from Lord Borgol. Once that has been paid, you may convince /me/ of what contribution you can make that Lord Borgol might entertain paying you for. Failing to convince me of your earnest devotion to that task will cost another life. Wasting my time will cost a life. Or insulting me will cost a life."
"Sir, my companions came here to kill you all. I stand in their way. All they want is a reason to carry that sentence out; so I pray you reconsider your next words more carefully."
[Hahtavi Kora]
If only he had a caf machine in this thing. Hahtavi sits there trying not to get sleepy while nothing happens, and keep alert. He shifts his position in the cockpit and mutters to himself, <"Hur-ry up, Triip. Letz blasst 'm so I can get a cup of caf. Bunch of di'kut, these gang-ers.">
The Mandalorian is not impressed with some people's IQ. He idly flips the cover off of his fixed mounts and refrains from warming up the guns just yet. Just to give himself something to do, the Mandalorian tips his helmet idly again to look around, then despite his own reflection in the smokey dark canopy, /something/ catches his attention. He sits very still and uses his helmet's optics to zoom in...
Over their shared helmet coms - with at least Kin-Le and Amal, but anyone else on Borgol's mission who'd wanted to share a frequency with the Kora, Hahtavi's baritone comes through, <<"There'z may-be sev-en more in the ve-hi-cle sshed. Arm-ed to the teeth. Wait-ing in the back, watch-ing, lis-ten-ing, ov-er.">>
As Trip judges it's time to move up the negotiation to action, the Mandalorian starts up the aerofighter's repulsor to lift it back off of the ground slightly as his guns come online. Pointed right into the vehicle storage where the others are out of sight. No shooting yet - just adding weight to Trip's final warning.
[Fshmaw]
Fshmaw's gun is drawn with calm, practiced swiftness to rest at Nikto Leader's temple. "Urphhhggghhhlll," he enunciates, such as he can. The belt, having learnt what's good for it, gurgles out: "Reconsider."
[Kin-Li Kel]
Kin-Li Kel cuts in, smoothly, voice amplified over the speakers, <Standing in front of you are two Mandalorians, an Echani who has been learning the art of eviscerating people from before she could walk, and the negotiator is /power armor./ Do you idiotic backbirths want to die this day?>
His left hand drops a few centimeters below his gunbelt, fingers twitching.
[Aola Ziveri]
Hutt lords, gang wars and now executions...Aola's quiet enjoyment of the fruit as she walked suddenly came to a muffled pause as half-lidded eyes of appreciation snapped open and the mouthful she had turned a little more sour.
Having already strayed too close she moved, trying to make herself inoccuous against one of the walls of the alleyway. Small, hopefully, if the blaster bolts started flying!
[Borgol the Hutt]
"I didn't even get a chance to consider!" The Red Nikto answers back at the Aqualish and its translator unit. He seems rather perturbed by that fact as he nods toward Trip, "The Kushiban said let's negotiate. So I started negotiating and now you're all drawing weapons and," the Red Nikto even gestures toward the X-17A air speeder as he continues his ranting, "who even brings that to a negotiation?! You talk about negotiations in good faith and you're coming in aero fighters?" The Red Nikto considers Trip and the offer made as the Nikto calls out the hypocrisy of it all.
Then he's taking a step back from Fshmaw, attempting to manually remove the barrel of the blaster from his presence as the apparent leader of the Nikto swoop gang comments back at Trip, "Listen, I ain't afraid of you. None of us are. You want to negotiate? Then negotiate. If you need me to teach you how to negotiate? Just say that. Before you go letting your fragile pride get you all riled up? Think about it".
The Nikto even goes as far as to lift his hands up before himself, as though to showcase that he is in fact unarmed as he nods back toward the Nikto who occupy the space behind and around him as he comments, "Sacrificing one of my boys is off the table though. You wouldn't want that asked of you and you ain't asking it of me. I'm willing to speak with *Lord* Borgol, but I ain't just handing one of my boys over for slaughter."
The overall mood of the Nikto seems to have shifted. While they've not fully pulled weapons yet, they're definitely more apprehensive and anxious than they ever were before.
[Trip]
"Alas, sacrificing one of your men was not on the table, sir. The benefit of leadership is reaping the rewards of your team's endeavors. The curse of leadership is that you are doomed to answer for their failures. As the leader of the gang, it will always be your fault. So it is you who I levy the charges against, and you, sir, who must answer for the crimes against Lord Borgol. When your body lays upon the sands, we will explore renegotiating with a new leader with the best interests of the group in mind. Your first thought was of yourself, let that resonate with the others while we remove you from the negotiating circle."
Trip steps back slightly and makes a lazy waving motion with his paw. "Execute this one," He points to the leader, and goes back to leaning on his sword to watch.
[Amal Jha]
There was the slightest exhalation of breath, as Amal shifted the way in which her weight was distributed against the sand and dust of the alleyway. Still, she stood with neither weapon drawn, or movement to engage the gang, who, were, alas, looking far too skittish for this negotiation. Whatever would be would be, and Amal glanced, only briefly, to Trip, as the kushiban had the task of bandying words with the leader of this merry band.
When the order was given, Amal moved, fluid as a cat, or water in the desert, slipping through an ancient channel. She did not have enough speed to meet the nikto face to face, as she had not moved up to arms reach, but that was no matter, a hand slipped beneath the duster on the approach, withdrawing the rapier from its sheath on her back, a flick of her wrist breaking the weapon apart, the segments glowing with a deep crimson light as the whip snapped out, and she twisted, the tip biting as she wound it around the red nikto's neck, shear edges slicing into flesh, before she pulled her arm back, in a single, practiced movement, separating flesh, bone and spinal column, the nikto's now headless body falling to the floor of the alley a second after his head did the same. Another flick of her wrist cleared the weapon of blood and snapped it back to its rapier form.
[Hahtavi Kora]
The Mandalorian in the aerofighter at least hears what he'd been waiting for - the leader to agree to go and speak with Borgol to work this out. Hahtavi should be satisefied, except that their orders were rather more specific than that.
There's no need for him to do anything right off. Amal's got this. As soon as Trip says cut their leader down, she does precisely /THAT/ with style! A snap, crackle POP and her electro whip snakes out to eviscerate him.
Hahtavi observes but his optics are recording. He can watch that replay later while enjoying supper later. Meanwhile his own attention is upon the gangers still in the vehicle building who'd been hanging back.
As the Swoop gangers decide not to rush out in mass and start shooting, the Mandalorian in the aerofighter doesn't cut loose. His sleek craft just sits there still aiming at the structure. Silent predator.
[Fshmaw]
Fshmaw *wiggles* his weapon. "Urph. Phurh. Ooo-rrr." The belt provides: "I need to know which one of your men is in charge so I can hold this at his jaw?"
[Kin-Li Kel]
Kin-Li Kel shrugs. <<That was messy.>> I mean, what else is there to say? His targeting system flags the new threats but...really. How threatening are they, right now? His hand rests back on his gunbelt, fingers tap-tap-tap-tapping on the tooled bantha leather.
[Aola Ziveri]
It was impressive, spectacular...and a little horrifying. Aola's appreciation for the grace and ease of the whip being wielded is somewhat counteracted by the splatter of blood and severed head. Her lekku giving a startled twitch, the pilot remains pressed against the wall, eyes moving back and forth between the apparent enforcers and the now leaderless Nikto.
[Borgol the Hutt]
As the Red Nikto's necko gets separatedo, his body collapses heavily to the sandy ground. Meanwhile the Nikto visibly recoil as their leader is so adeptly removed from the equation. Meanwhile the pair of green Nikto that stood at the flanks of the Red Nikto share a glance toward one another. They seem to reach a mutual concensus quite quickly, as one of the pair looks back to Trip and offers a firm nod of his head as the Nikto answers in Basic, "We'd like to take you up on your offer. Lord Borgol sounds like a better leader for our services and loyalty. We also wish to have the opportunity to offer our sorries to him in person. That way we can offer a proper kneelin' to really showcase a proper apology. We messed up and didn't realize that Lord Borgol had taken up interests in Tatooine. Simple mistake, we swear," the green Nikto lieutenant seeks to assuage the Cartel mercenaries with his hands at shoulders width and his palms outward.
Meanwhile the rest of the Nikto seem to be standing down as well. There's a spurt of gore that springs from the stump of a neck that should be connected to the Red Nikto's head. It went on a vacation though. That spurt of bright blood from the Red Nikto's stumpy neck seems to convince the foot soldiers of the swoop gang that it's best to fall in line. The last lieutenant that spoke adds, "He," nodding toward the Red Nikto, "wasn't a good chief anyway. Lord Borgol? Definitely among the best we're goin' to find. Yeah, let's go with Lord Borgol."
[Trip]
"Well struck, Mistress Jha." Intones the Kushiban who straightens with the sudden dispatch of their leader. They speak now over the corpse, blood pushing from arteries revealed in the neck to pool on the sand in a brighter, oxygenated color. Trip stands in front of the pool, uncaring of the sight or the feelings it evoked.
"A wise decision, my friends. Lord Borgol will be pleased. To earn his favor, ensure you bring a gift fitting of his grace. For your quick resolution and devoted apology, I will inform our Lord of your willingness to serve and I am certain he will have a place for you all. We will see you at the palace. Until then, my friends." Trip raises his sword in salute, then turns from them to guide the blade safely into its scabbard. The Consigliere boards the speeder which bore them here, and climbs into his seat, fuzzy feet hanging over the edge and kicking idly. "Find something nice on the radio to listen to.." He informs the driver.
[Borgol the Hutt]
The driver had watched on in silence. Even a little boredom. It's unlikely that it was the first execution he's been witness. It's unlikely to be the last. He's prompt in answering Trip's call for something nice on the radio, because he promptly goes with a classic: 'Kiss My Whole Escape Pod' by the Krazy Kowakians.
The Nikto are left staring after the speeder and its occupants as they all begin to pile into their transport. The Nikto look to one another, then to the Red Nikto, and then back to each other as one of them finally utters, "Not me". Likely in answer to the unspoken question of who will bury the Red Nikto. A chorus of 'not me' erupts until, finally, one of the Nikto is left having not announced his refusal.
You're it, random Nikto. You're it.
Meanwhile the rest begin to filter back into the barn to see to their swoops and to discuss the matter of prospective gifts.
[Trip]
"Ah, a classic, this is," Trip says to the driver before hanging his head against the seat cushion. "..kkkkkiiiiiIIISSSS my whoooOOOOLLLLEE... escape-pod, I leeeeeave you with...but a nod. And though you thought.. you haaaaad me, I knew, in my heart, t'was time to flee..."
