Private Son of a Hutt

[Dreadheart]

The shuttle's hatchdoors close, as the engines push the craft up and off the hangar, into the skies of N'orlannia. In frequent intervals, the life-support spat hot humidity into the cabin, providing to the pseudo-tropic artificial atmosphere onboard.

"We are a tough breed, us Hutts." Malaga nodded to the life support, after tapping on Valoo's arm to attract his attention. "Varl, our ancient home, was a jungle. We are meant for humid environments. To resist most the Galaxy has to throw against one's skin is a Hutt's gift. I spent long time on Tattooine. It is a desert. Wasteland as far as the eye can see, with the little water on the planet hidden in underground caves the natives guard as if its emeralds. Heat was exhausting."

"But you pulled through, my son Malaga." Paparag shook his head. "You found your way. This is how us Hutts survive. This is how we stir the Galaxy for thousands of years."

"When you are ready, Valoo, I will take you to Tatooine. You will see." Malaga nodded.

"First, he will go to Nal Hutta. He will require time to heal. Then, his journey will start!"

 

[wraithslayer101]

“Mmm… I think Nal Hutta would probably be more to my liking then Tatooine. No offense my brother, but when I fully become a Hutt, due to my size I would want to constantly be within either mud or water to just sorta… relax. Even more so then a recliner can ever offer.” Valoo sighs wistfully, longing for that submersion. However he shales his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll still visit Tatooine on occasion, it just won’t be my home is all.” Valoo smiles earnestly, sweat already glistening off of his body in the heat of the cabin with his mind wandering to his eventual Huttdom as a mountain of living flesh.

 

[Dreadheart]

Malaga shook his head. He felt pitty for the young man, for he had experienced enough hardship to believe there would be none yet, by the time he became a full-fledged Hutt himself.

"Tattooine is not about taste, brother." he explained. "It is a rite of passage."

Malaga extended his bionic limb, clacking the talon at the far side. His wide eyes studying it as he spoke.

"I got this, in my journey on Tattooine. Given to me by a Jawa. Tinny little creatures, native to Tattooine. That particular one was a Jedi. And I did not know."

Malaga knew Paparag was observing the conversation. He chose not to intervene, knowing well what Malaga would say then. Paparag wanted the boy to hear that from his brother.

"There are times when we must find our way. Tattooine is hostile, to us. Desert, without humidity or any of our kind's luxuries. All must be made from scrap. Worked for. Earned. I found my way, down there. I survived. And I prevailed, like all Hutts should. Leisure and luxury is something you will know and enjoy, my brother. But a Hutt's will must be tested, or else others, lessers, find the way to trick us. A Hutt must never allow himself to be tricked. We are the ones who rule the Galaxy through sound. Let others do it, through blaster."

 

[wraithslayer101]

Valoo nods understandably “That… makes sense. Testing myself should be a priority, but I was mainly thinking of beyond those tests and beyond those. I have visons of what I want to do and how I would go about those tasks, as while I don’t mind being tested, if I don’t have a goal to focus on after each task’s end, then I fear that I would lack the motivation to move forward.” Valoo sighs “Sorry for uh… springing that out of nowhere. I just… want to focus on the good in case the huttification fails somewhere down the line and I die.” Valoo scowls before leaning back towards the wall, slick with sweat “Oh, and sorry for bringing the mood down too.”

 

[Dreadheart]

"It is natural" Malaga rested his bionic arm on Valoo's shoulder. "We are brothers, now, Valoo. I understand how you feel. It will not fail. Dr Vein will make it happen. Until then, you have time to do what many of us hadn't. You plan. To plan is to be prepared. And preparation is the root of success. We will talk of this."

Paparag had slithered to the cockpit, no longer engaged in the conversation at hand. Malaga took notice, turning his wide eyes to the view beyond the narrow window.

"Look, Valoo. N'Orlannia." he gestured.

Outside the window, jungles spanned as far as the eye could see, forming a carpet adorned with oversized tropic leaves and trunks that stretched far above the swamps below, all coated by the layer of white mist caressing the surface like a veil of ether. In the distance, some small settlements protruded from the landscape, half-buried beneath the beauty of the feral world. The lower the shuttle flew, the more the elegant buildings appeared, hanging atop one another, casting shadows on the relativelly small landing platform.

"Come, my sons." Paparag extended his tinny hands to the sides, as the shuttle experienced a slight bump, as it touched down. "N'orlannia awaits!"

 

[wraithslayer101]

At first, as the planet came into view, he thought nothing of it, with the predominant thought being ‘How do Hutts stay here when it looks like it’s all jungle?’ However, when more elegant and modern buildings appeared, it all clicked for Valoo and he got excited. Not only for the prospect of eating and hoping gaining dozens, if not hundreds of pounds, but also what this friend was like and how he would react to Valoo himself. Would it be curiosity, disgust or something else all together? Those were Valoo’s thoughts as he would be the last one off the shuttle, the sweat across his body being as thick as molasses.

 

[Dreadheart]

"This world is distant." Malaga shook his head, gesturing his long cybernetic limb to the view of the shanty buildings. There was a strange elegance in them, as if built by architects proper and not merely stacked with view only survival. The air was coloured by the perfumes sold in the dozen shops staffed by aliens wearing strange tattoo-like dyes on them, resembling what could have been local native deities, or customs.

The Hutts slithered slowly. There was no rush, after all. Paparag, the hulking Hutt of the two, took his time enjoying the view from through the different corridors and elegantly built corners of the tiled road. There were Mandalorians dotting the streets, perfectly blending in with the locals and off-worlders. From trinkets and spices, to foodstuff and delicacies yet unknown, to masterfully crafted decorations, the market had it all.

"The Malsonikes have done good work with this place..." Malaga admitted.

 

[wraithslayer101]

“Yeah.” Valoo was still awestruck by this world, and for the possibilities that await for him during this feast. However, those thoughts back at the shuttle still remain, but he does look to the Mandolorians as well, as he hasn’t ever seen any before and their strange sense of culture.

 

[Malsonike Clans]

The skyline of N’orlannia shimmered with its usual vibrancy neon signs flickering against a hazy dusk sky, their reflections dancing across the ever damp streets. The capital buzzed with life, Mandalorians patrolled the walkways in full armor, some imposing and silent, others swept up in the festivities of the city. Foreigners wandered the markets and festival routes, drawn in by the exotic delicacies served hot and steaming from street vendors spiced swamp crab, firefruit glaze, and offworld imports tailored to the boldest palates.


The air was thick with the constant hum of jizz music, spilling from every open doorway and transport window. Bourbon Street, in particular, was alive just a narrow strip carved between two very different worlds: the Luminous Quarter, once home to the now-persecuted witches and Force mystics who offered fortunes and whispered secrets to passersby… and the Abattoir, a brutal and armored sector where the true power of the planet now resided.


In this place of contrast, Bourbon Street served as a brief reprieve a liminal zone of cantinas, neon masks, parade drums, and endless scams. It was the street where every major parade both began and ended, pulsing like a central artery through the city’s chaotic body.


At the far end stood a recently rebuilt cantina, Sozzenel’s. The building was modest, rising from the ashes of the Great Burning, its facade marked by a single, bold Mandalorian sigil etched beside its glowing Eon sign the name of the venue and a proudly displayed Kuat Recommendation Star, indicating its galactic class service. From the outside, Sozzenel’s looked simple. But behind its durasteel doors and tinted panels, stories were traded like currency, and power often changed hands in the quietest corners.
@Dreadheart
@wraithslayer101 ​

 

[wraithslayer101]

Valoo marvels at the various lights, sounds and smells coming from Bourbon Street, especially since this is significantly more exotic then the various dancers, goods and services that came and went on that ship. However, when his father stopped at the dingy cantina where his friend was supposedly at, he paused. He… was unsure if this place held everything that was desired here, but the hope still remains, no matter what the establishment is.

 

[Malaga The Hutt]

"Remember this place, brother" Malaga pointed his disproportionally longer cybernetic arm to the Sozzenel's. Paparag slithered forth, uncaring of his sons following, or unaware of their halting.

"This is the place we will meet, if our paths split. So long this place stands, we have a way to contact, even if the odds are against us..."

Malaga's voice felt sinister. He was a Hutt of careful planning. His journey to Tattooine had tought him thusly. Whether by affection, or simple contingency, Malaga had picked that place and Valoo to know it as a meeting point, in case of whatever disaster might befall the two brothers.

"The Sozzenel has low profile. Perfect to lay low, if the times demand it. And..." he slithered forth. His arm pointing to the Kuat Star, as his mouth stretched to a wide smile. "You know they have good food, when you see them KRS stars on the label!"

Malaga waited for his brother by the entrance. He observed, in silence, should Valoo chose to express whichever feelings he had, visible to Malaga, by the uncertainty clouding Valoo's face.

 

[wraithslayer101]

Valoo was, obviously apprehensive about the establishment, but when mentioning this as a meeting place, he cocks his head “Are we… going to be staying in town for a long time?” He was unsure if they were staying around. However, the longer they stay and the more he gets to eat, the closer to one of his goals he can get. Valoo goes to his brother at the doorway. “Guessing we have to meet Dad’s friend first though?” Valoo was… unsure what a fellow Hutt would say about what his dad wanted to do with a human, but still, he was determined to prove other Hutts wrong and become one just as well as any other Hutt