Like any other day on Daemunn, Euphoria was a bustling den of scantily clad women, fiends looking for their next bump, gamblers seeking riches and members of the Gutter-Boyz scattered throughout. Speeders screaming past the establishment could barely drown out the melodic thumping of Twitch Bordo’s band, the Static Rejects. But try as they may, they failed horrifically.
A rust stained durasteel door lined with fluorescent lighting slid open as a Rodian approached. Beyond his flared robe, through the smoke and pungent aroma of leaking glitterstim on an adjacent table. Sitting at the far wall on a wrap-around leather couch with two Gamorreans on either side was a brutish Zabrak wearing a white shimmersilk suit with red undershirt and a datapad was laid out on the table in front of him. Clearly this man was the owner of the club. Coincidentally, he was also the Proconsul of the merry band of mercs known throughout wild space as Clan Vizsla. While it was true that the aesthetic of this clan was steeped in Mandalorian culture, Juda Graves was more aligned with the seedier side of life in their system.
His finger furiously cycled through news feeds and the never-ending pinging of notifications on the encrypted device as he gnawed on the thick end of a cigar rolled from the finest dried leaves of Iridonia. Smoke swirled around his head and mingled around spiked horns as his lids narrowed around red bloodshot eyes. From his laid back posture and the snarl on his face, it was apparent that whatever he had been doing, he had been at it for a while.
“Boss, you’ve got company.” squealed one of the Gamorreans.
Juda didn’t look.
“Boss..”
Annoyed, the Zabrak lifted his eyes from his datapad only to lock eyes on the beautiful face and swishing hourglass figure of his Zeltronian girlfriend, Deeva. They had been together for years and the way she moved still did terrible things to his concentration.
“Ey, baby.” He greeted her with a smirk as she slid down onto his lap and wrapped her arms around him. She gave him a kiss and held him tight but anyone wise to a ‘cover’ would have noticed she was whispering into his ear. His smirk immediately stiffened and he looked into her eyes with a swelling anger. “Is that so?”
She cast a look into his eyes to confirm what she had told him was true before slamming back a bubbling green liquid in a tall shot glass and excusing herself with a nonchalant smile and laugh. In thanks, he smacked her on the rear and leaned in to speak with those surrounding him at the table.
“Lockdown.”
The Gamorreans looked at each other and stood up while Juda’s dancing monkey-lizard named Gonzo, surrendered his good mood to bad vibes and weaseled his way under the table.
With the same datapad, Juda pulled up his contact list and scrolled to the name of a man he had entrusted with his laundering, Vernon Sims. A thin necked human that had inside knowledge of every credit spent, earned, and hidden. The man was in a very important position, the very lifeblood of Juda’s empire was funneled through his hands. So imagine his surprise when Deeva had received inside information that Vernon was double-dipping. Not only was he skimming from the top, but he was an informant working for the Iron Throne. They had their hands in everything. Afterall, Juda, being an associate of the Shroud Syndicate, was supposed to be giving them a cut of all of his profits. It was only a matter of time before the Iron Throne’s patience with his ambitions would run out.
For now, Euphoria was locking down. No one was allowed in and Vernon was certainly not allowed out.
The datapad on the table chimed repeatedly as Juda’s call would go unanswered. With each redial, his blood became hotter. Anger caused him to clench his fists and he became restless but as soon as he stood up, Vernon came tumbling into the room followed by the Gamorrean guards. A crowd of patrons looking for the type of entertainment their money couldn’t buy outside of the Slaughterhouse gathered around and Vernon rolled into a kneeling position.
“Wha- what is this about?”
“I’m glad you asked!” Juda snarled as he strode up to the cowardly turncoat, slowly putting on a pair of black and red gloves that Vernon instantly recognized. Bewilderment became fear.
He knew what he had done, it was only a matter of how much Juda had known. He slithered and backpedaled with his words before the Zabrak stopped and pulled a chance cube from his coat pocket. The four sided die had two blue squares and two red.
"On one hand, you're a smart guy." Juda began, fidgeting with the cube. "In fact, I respect your desire to get ahead. The only problem with this whole scenario is that you made one fatal mistake."
Vernon tilted his head.
"You stole from the wrong fragging kung."
"Pl- please!"
"Tell ya what, call it." Juda tossed the die to the floor and the rattle of it tumbling across the durasteel made Vernon squirm.
"Blue!" he shouted before it came to a complete stop on red.
Without skipping a beat, Juda slid forward with a grace and fluidity that was unusual for a man of his size. Vernon reeled back and immediately felt the Zabrak's strong fingers dig into his throat. Instinctively he buried his chin into Juda's hand but it did little to protect him as he was hoisted onto his feet as if he were a toy.
The crime-lord grit his teeth and pushed Vernon straight back while unleashing a quick left and right to the stumbling human's skull. Vernon hit the ground with a thud but the Zabrak wasn't finished as he continued to flow with his forward momentum and drove his left knee into Vernon's jaw. Blood splattered to the floor and a crimson mist painted the legs of the table to his right as he slumped backwards, unconscious.
Juda stood over him and flexed his muscles before removing his suit jacket and draped it over his shoulder.
"If ANY of you EVER betray me again!" Juda lifted his foot and aligned the sole of his polished wingtip with Vernon's head and stomped straight down. "Then this will be your fate."
Gasps filled the room followed by an eerie silence.
Juda closed his eyes briefly to reset his mood.
"What're we waiting for?" The crowd hesitated. "Drink, party. Twitch, fire up another song. Urk." He addressed one of the Gamorreans. "Get that pile of filth out of here."