Seated within the Glorious Jewel of the Hutts, the Winter Palace is situated on a remote island near the planet’s equator. Although blanketed with the pollution from Hutt industry, its location makes the climate hot and humid. Surrounded with trees and vines, it could be considered to be a paradise, even among the barren wasteland of Nal Hutta. Outside of the Winter Palace, a network of sewer pipes transfer the waste from the palace to wherever seems far enough to dump into the oceans surrounding the island. Flora and fauna that have adapted to the Hutt’s environmental changes thrive in the polluted forests surrounding the Winter Palace.

Stepping through its gilded gates, the lavish interior greets your presence with the main audience chamber. Once belonging to the wealth of Jiliac Desilijic Tiron, the gleaming stone of the main aisle leads up to a Hutt’s dais lined with an expensive carpet. Beautiful tapestries line the high walls, telling of the sordid histories of those who woven them, awaiting execution in Jiliac’s dungeons.

Finally, the antechamber to the throne room is illuminated from above with high-skylighted ceilings. Constructed from lightly colored stone, the antechamber might have been where the late Hutt entertained his guests before an audience with spice and exotic dancers. In the hands of the Hutt Kajidics, however, these traditions have continued as the Winter Palace now serves as a front for criminal and business ventures.

"Fraking Hutt Kajidics"

That was all that Terran Koul could think to himself about the criminals within the palace. He had arrived just like any bounty hunter would have when word got out that the Hutt, Kridara, had placed a bounty on certain relics. Terran had a gift of being able to find anything.....or anyone. That was what made him an exceptional hunter. But once he had gotten here, all he received was resistance to information due to the fact that no one would speak fraking basic, only Huttese, which he had no knowledge of or ability to translate.

"Ye wanya peee tah murishani, goo gee nobata matmaph che tee piukiha" «Look as this bounty hunter, he has no respect for our culture» was overheard, but unfortunately, the only gist Terran could get and sense was contempt for his being there. Even the protocol droids he had hoped to be there, were unavailable. Getting information or description of the prized artifacts was going to be tedious.

But he wasn't the only hunter there. Transdosians, Gungans, Quarrens, and other species were in the midst. "At least Boba ain't here" he mutter to himself, knowing the famed Mando was usually the best to getting the job done, and with the credits Kridara the Hutt was offering, around fifty thousand credits each, was a subtle surprise, none-the-less.

Terran was trying to listen in on some other's conversations to get any type of Intel when he felt another force-sensitive enter the establishment. Looking around without giving himself away as a Gray Jedi, he narrowed it down to a cloaked individual wearing a full length, brown tunic/robe combination. "Something seems familiar" he thought to himself as the individual walked purposely towards the Hutt. He was also carrying what looked like a crate that was covered with a tarp. Watching him closely, the individual had stopped, lowered the crate to the ground as it kicked up a bit of dust, and quickly removed his robe. A blue skinned Chiss in a white uniform emerged from the confines of the garment. "That definitely isn't Invictus" Terran thought to himself. Invictus was an Chiss that was banished from Arcona after the war that they had just finished, discarded for treason against the Consul at the time. He watched as they Chiss draped his robe through his left arm, and re-acquired his box from the floor with his right hand.

"Bo shuda jobabasa bo, Jee paknee ata fa uba doth bancaie bahva chaca catau" «Greetings exalted one, I take it you are still seeking prized possessions » spoke the Chiss as he gave a slight curtsy to the Hutt. Terran knew now it wasn't the former Arconan. "Great, he speaks Huttese. Figures!" grumbled the Arconan to himself.

"Ahh! Uba yanay mi du mah chamy jensm. Tagwa, Jee woy bahva chaca catau" «Ahh! You honor me in my own language. Yes, I do seek prized possessions » replied Kridara the Hutt as his eyes widened in anticipation of his new possession. The Chiss lowered the box onto the floor and removed the coverings, revealing a Kowakian monkey-lizard trapped within. Speaking in Basic now, the Chiss looked at the Hutt, "I give you the pet of your cousin, Jabba the Hutt. This is Salicious Crumb. His jester pet."

"Keelya tah dodi. Fa baa doth roy. Gahke fa noa-a banieie cay ateema" «How is this possible. It's been years. Surely it would be dead by now» blurted out the shocked Hutt as he looked upon the former jester pet of his cousin.

"I have my connections and when they are paid well, well, you see for yourself that they succeed where other's have failed" replied the Chiss. "I take from their account that this creature survived the destruction of your relative's house and had been holed up as a museum piece."

The Chiss opened the cage and released its resident, when quickly jumped up to the outstretched arms of Kridara and started purring in its own monkey-lizard way. As the Chiss turned around to go mingle with the others, some slapping him on his back for a "good job" congratulatory sediments. The Chiss and Terran locked eyes as if they knew who each other were like life long friends. Terran had to see for himself who it was. So he casually strolled up to him, with a second drink in his hand, and offered it to the Chiss. "Do I know you?" he casually asked in a low voice.

"I should hope so, being your Consul, Atyiru Caesura Entar, had sent her regards to me, through my former apprentice,"replied the Chiss as he accepted the drink and took a sip before finishing his train of thought, "which I believe you know her, Taranae."

"So you would be Brimstone, that would explain the outlandish uniform that makes you stand out in a crowd." Terran took another sip of his drink as he looked around. "Look, no hard feelings about your apprentice, but I was just doing a job as ordered."

"None taken. She survived and is training herself for the betterment of Plagueis. Begeren was a long time ago and I am surprised your Consul remembered our little scuffle with the Wraids we encountered" replied Brimstone as he took another sip of the flavored drink. "I also didn't forget that she left me there to die as she coward herself away. Oh, by the way, is she still crazy and still talking to the voices in her head?" smiled the Sith.

Terran's smile turned to a frown at the insult of his Consul from the Plagueian. "Just keep smiling, blue boy, and I'll wipe that fraking grin off your face" he thought as he took another sip.

“From time to time,” the Kiffar replied, mentally cursing the conversation as a waste of time. I have no idea what I hoped to accomplish by this. Time to end this distraction...but how? Eying the pristine Admiral’s uniform, Terran’s frown grew into a smile. “How’s that captaincy of the Predominant working out? Have they finished recovering the debris?”

The Chiss’ jaw tightened and his crimson eyes narrowed. “Listen here, Kiffari poodoo,” Brimstone growled, grabbing Terran roughly by the bicep. “You don’t deserve to speak the Predominant’s name. You have no idea what I went through.”

“Well, I heard you did a spectacular job escaping while your entire crew bit it. I’m sure that was quite harrowing.“

The grip on Terran’s arm tightened as the Plaguean’s brow twitched. Good. Perfect time to make my exit. The Arconan bent his knees and spun away from Brimstone. The combination of his momentum and the awkward angle threw the Chiss off balance, forcing him to release Terran’s arm or stumble embarrassingly. The Sith tried to hold on for a half second before realizing his predicament and letting go. The Kiffar started to walk away, smug at getting in the last word. Before he managed a third step, however, a battered, chrome protocol droid stopped directly in his path.

“Mr. Weissver?” The droid’s voice was scratchy, its vocabulator no doubt long past its expiration. “If you will come with me, I believe you were to speak with the illustrious Kridara the Hutt next.”

“About time,” Terran replied roughly, following the droid. The alias, one of a dozen he had commissioned since taking over the criminal operations on Port Ol’val, had apparently held up to scrutiny. As they approached the oversized slug’s ornate dias, he glanced back at the Plaguean moving disgruntledly towards the large archway that served as entrance and exit for the audience chamber. A glowbulb lit in his mind, and a grin bristled on his lips. It’s not every day you get a chance to deflate a pompous windbag and earn your Consul’s gratitude. Stopping a meter and a half from the corpulent Hutt’s throne, Terran bowed his head respectfully and plastered a servile mask on his features.

“What is your purpose here, Kiffar?” The dented droid translated Kridara’s gurbles, a slight buzz underpinning the words. “Did you truly believe I would grant you leave to track down the relics I seek? You, who won’t even deign to learn your employer’s language?”

The only thing more massive than a Hutt is a Hutt’s ego. Terran kept his voice neutral, despite the diatribe running through his mind. “I’m afraid there has been a mistake, oh wise Kridara. I didn’t come for your favor, but rather to do a favor for you.”

“Explain yourself. Now,” translated the droid as his master’s bulbous eyes slitted in annoyance.

“As you will, my lord. The Chiss that is currently leaving - I have tracked him for several weeks now at the request of my employer. He stole a rather large quantity of neurotoxin from a lab on Krellik II. I had wanted to see who his employer was before recovering the bioagent. When he landed planetside this morning, I knew I needed to confiscate it without delay - however when I snuck aboard his ship, I found only empty containers.” Terran paused for a moment, forcing a tinge of uncertainty into his tone. “I...well, I originally thought he might be delivering it to you, your illustriousness. However, I can see that isn’t the case. I apologize for interjecting myself into your affairs.”

The Kiffar lowered his eyes again, as if waiting for permission to be dismissed. Reaching out with the Force, he probed the Hutt’s emotions. They were faint, guarded by gulf between their species and the natural resistance the Hutt genome conveyed. Still, he caught enough to detect a hint of suspicion grow within the slug’s mind. Perfect. Now to redirect it. “If I might be so bold, mighty Kridara...you may wish to have someone examine the Kowakian closer. Somewhere far away from here.”

The Hutt’s eyes widened as they darted first to the monkey-lizard then back to the Kiffar. Then Kridara shouted - the sound putting Terran in mind of a cross between a lion and a bullfrog - and pointed towards the exiting Sith. Two large Gamorreans, posted to either side of the archway, stepped in front of Brimstone and raised a pair of wickedly sharp vibroaxes.

The Sith turned back to the audience chamber’s dias, raising his voice in exclamation. Though Terran couldn’t understand the garble of words, he could hear the insulted confusion in them. Kridara replied in kind and Terran began to move away from the platform, hoping to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. The exchange continued, a burbling tide that only escalated in volume as the Kiffar side-stepped to the right of the throne. Just as he was about to turn away and lose himself in the formerly-mingling crowd, the Plaguean’s finger shot out, pointing straight at Terran.

“You lying sack of poodoo!”

The Kiffar paused mid-step, as if skewered in place. Great, what now? Before he could think up an appropriate response, his wit interjected for him.

“You know poodoo just means food, right?”

The Chiss’s blue skin reddened and he grew nearly apoplectic, before a growl finally issued from his throat. Without another word, the Sith drew a charric from the holster at his belt and fired on Terran. The Kiffar threw himself to the ground, rolling to the side and regaining his feet as he reached for the pair of blasters at his waist.

Then the audience chamber descended into chaos.

The chaos had begun. Brimstone opened fire and tried to hit the the Arconan as everyone ran for cover. A few errant shots hit some of the criminals as they fled. Blue flashes kept ringing out as the Kiffar ducked out of the way and made his escape up a stairwell. Curses were heard from not only the patrons, but even the Hutt in attendance.

"Jee banag bo kloonkee an Jee banag fa ateema" «I want his head and I want it now» yelled the Hutt as Brimstone turned to see what he had to say.

"That's all I needed to hear" smiled the Chiss as he took off up the stairwell, along with a few other bounty hunters.

Terran Koul was in a dead run. He knew in an enclosed area, he had no chance to really defend himself and with the casualties piling up from the Plagueisan's misfires, he was sure the Chiss would have him to blame. Around one corner in the palace, a Gamorrean guard grabbed hold of him as he tried to pass, but it was all for naught due to a well placed shot from one of his WESTAR-35 Blaster Pistol's gave him a gut wrenching death quickly, dropping his blubber, green hide onto the ground.

Terran made sure to mentally map the palace when he arrived, just in case he had to make a quick escape and so far, other than the commotion of patrons in his way, he was on his way to the freedom of outside.

A few shots rang past his head as he came into one of the anti-chambers. His way was cutoff so he had no choice but to take out the other bounty hunters. The Kiffar hurled his Merr-Sonn G-20 Glop Grenade towards them and as it exploded, the sticky web-like adhesive sprayed over its intended victims, stopping their assault and holding them in place. He didn't want to kill his fellow hunters, so this was going to halt their proceedings just for a little while. Terran gave a quick salute and nod as he ran by them while they struggled in the gooey mess.

Brimstone and a few other bounty hunters made their chase. Looking like a well oiled machine, they each covered one another as they checked around corners in search for their prey. "I think he is making his way outside" commented one of them. Brimstone and the others acknowledged the exact sediments. They then hastened their search as they made their way, splitting off into three teams of two and headed to different exits of the enormous palace.

Brimstone was teamed up with a Gungan, and despite the misconceptions of their race he had known about, this one was militaristic in his mannerisms and was well trained in hunting a target. They both made their way through one of the anti-chambers and found the Kiffar's sticky victims who just pointed the direction he went. The two hurried past them as they hunted.

Terran was nearly to the outside. The putrid smells of the sewage was repugnant. After a couple coughs to clear his senses from the rancid smells, he decided it was time to take his leave.

"Don't think you're going anywhere Terran" yelled the Chiss as a few shots rang past him. Terran pulled out his lightsaber and quickly deflected some of the shots. The Gungan that was with Brimstone took cover behind one of the pipes as the Chiss continued to open fire.

The citrine glow of Terran’s saber washed through the dimly-lit hallway near the service exit of the Hutt’s palace, playing counterpoint to the blasts of red and beams of blue that assailed him. The Force flowed through him, guiding the Arconan as he spun away from a cobalt charric blast and twirled his lightsaber in a figure-eight, pecking off the trio of crimson bolts from the Gungan’s nondescript pistol. The odor of decaying food mingled with the stench of compacted waste from a dozen species and Terran suspected it would be overpowering if not for his ability to turn off his olfactory sense. I don’t know how the Gungan can stand it with his nose.

The Chiss and Gungan fired off another round of shots, a prescient whisper from the Force providing all the warning the Kiffar needed. He slid to the right, deftly dodging the red blaster bolts, and whipped his lightsaber around to block the blue, maser-guided discharge from Brimstone’s charric. Terran had never faced a charric before and the beam struck his blade harder than he had anticipated. Though the beam rebounded and died, the kick from the particle weapon knocked his saber from his hands. As his thumb left the deadman’s switch, the lightsaber deactivated. Were it not for the failsafe, the blade would have skewered the Kiffar, rather than bouncing annoyingly off his shoulder. Before he could collect himself and summon his lightsaber to hand, the floppy-eared Gungan unleashed another pair of bolts.

Cursing to himself, the Arconan rolled to the side, grabbing the ion grenade from his belt and priming it with a flick of his thumb. Okay, Terran: don’t frak this up. He spared a single glance for the corridor’s low ceiling before lobbing the explosive like a huttball, straight at the wall nearest the pair of gunmen. The Chiss’ eyes widened and the Gungan’s ears stood up like stalks of grain. Terran saw their eyes meet moments before they dove in unison towards the Kiffar. The Gungan covered his head, no doubt anticipating the collapse of the ceiling, and Terran did what probably seemed the least sensible thing in the galaxy - he ran towards the pair with all the speed the Force could lend him.

The grenade exploded in a shower of energy, a sphere of ionic bolts filling the hallway and causing the Kiffar’s hair to stand on end, even from a half dozen meters away. The prone pair looked stunned - though whether from the concussive force or the jarring realization that the grenade had been harmless, Terran couldn’t tell. He drew his blasters as the Gungan began to rise, flipping the one in his right hand to grasp it by the barrel. Without a word, he brought the blaster up to his left shoulder, then hammered it down at the amphibian. The blaster’s butt struck the creature in the temple, knocking him flat and rendering him unconscious. With a satisfied smirk, Terran flipped the pistol back and turned to Brimstone just as the Plagueian struggled to his knees. Empty-handed, his charric discarded as he dove to safety, the Battlemaster’s fingers twitched as if resisting the urge to make a grab for his lightsaber.

“Feel free to reach for it,” the Kiffar stated casually, gesturing with one of his blasters. “But if you do, you lose the hand.”

“Then what now, ktah phosk’t?” the Chiss replied, his lips turned down in a snarl. “You kill me like some limping nexu?”

Terran snorted at the suggestion, shaking his head in denial. “Hardly. I’ll kill, on occasion. But not your sort. Besides, no one’s paying me to. No, you’re going to take off your lightsaber, nice and slow, and toss it to the side. Then you’re going to wait right here while I leave. And if you move so much as a nanometer, I’ll pepper your corpse with so many bolts it’ll charr that whole prissy uniform black.”

The Kiffar looked down at the kneeling Chiss, locking glares, and he knew what Brimstone saw - a face with every ounce of remorse burned out of it, a man beaten and ready to beat back. A dozen heartbeats passed, then a dozen more. Finally, the Chiss nodded. His blue-skinned hand snaked behind him, unclipping his red custom Brimstone Lightsaber from the small of his back before rolling it across the floor. It came to rest several meters from the Plagueian and Terran nodded in satisfaction.

“Good.”

Without another word, the Kiffar pulled the trigger on his right-hand blaster. A bolt of blue plasma impacted the Chiss, knocking him to his back. Terran followed the body with both pistols, then pelted the supine form with a blast from each. Holstering his right-hand blaster, he knelt beside Brimstone and placed two fingers to the Plagueian’s neck. Thready but steady. Perfect. He should wake up in a half hour or so. Standing, the Kiffar gestured towards Brimstone’s saber, calling it to hand and pocketing it. He is not going to be happy with my...alterations...when he gets this back.

Terran walked back down the corridor towards the refuse door at the far end, stooping to pick up his own dropped lightsaber on the way and returning it to his wrist-sheath. As he reached the end of the hallway, the Arconan spun back around, left-hand blaster still out, and aimed at one of the numerous pipes near the fallen Chiss. He flicked the blaster over from stun to kill and pulled the trigger. The already-corroded pipe burst, spewing waste throughout the corridor. I wouldn’t want the dry cleaning bill on that uniform, he thought, chuckling to himself. It’s just too bad I don’t have my holocamera to snap a picture for Atyiru. Terran turned, a sardonic grin blooming on his face, and pushed open the exit.

It was time to head home.