Rhijans nodded.  "I'll let him know, when he gets back.  You want to leave a name, or should I just tell him there's a possible charter coming?  And I'd get here soon after he gets back, if I were you...there's a good chance he'll be eager to be on his way."  Rhijans delivered it all in the same matter-of-fact tone, as if he bored with such negotiations through their repetition.

Shard recalls a dark room in the prison area of Oomba's fortress, and its floating, spindly-armed occupant.  She shudders. "Messy examples...yes."  Then her eyes narrow as the poncho-wearing individual begins his walk across the space between them.  "Your prospective employer is heading this way, Jalt...but it's those Ubese that worry me."

It's vaguely possible one of them is the same Ubese who took the freed slaves and sold them.  In which case, there's a recognition issue.  Also the issue, Shard grimly considers, that she might open the Ubese up with the murder-stick.

"Let's see what he wants," she suggests.  Makes no sense to tell everyone to stay on their guard; they know their business.

"Jalt." the newcomer says, with nothing in the way of niceties, "I got a job for you."

Jalt peers into the worn. tired looking face, "Sorry Cordes.  It is Cordes, right?  I can't take any jobs just now.  The Bantha took a battering and she's grounded.  Until she's repaired I can't take anything.  Why don't you talk to Harlon?  He's usually looking for work."

Cordes shakes his head, "You not heard?  Dargo had Harlon killed, a piece at a time.  Seems he missed some loan payments.  Dargo took his ship, and had him tortured to death."

Jalt's face goes deathly pale...

"Not going to happen," Shard mutters.  Facing the man, she looks him up and down.  "If you need a job done, I'm sure Jalt will be happy to do it.  We just need to get the Bantha repaired.  The one follows the other; if your job is important -" it will be, to him "- then I'm betting the Bantha getting repaired is your best game in town."

She glances around the room, letting her mind relax, seeking that place between fury and void.  "Not looking for a handout - doesn't make sense for you to lose money getting a job done - but some support might be a good thing.  Stuff to look out for, who to avoid, that kind of thing.  Maybe even a word in the right ear." 

Rhijans nodded.  "I'll pass the message along, when he gets back.  We'll see, from there...we're kind of in the middle of a job right now, so he may not have an option for another charter at the moment.  I leave that stuff up to him...I just keep the ship safe."  He gave another curt nod.  "Nuq Nec Tchoq, of Nuq Clade," and he gestured in the direction of the building.

"I'll make sure he gets the message."

Haarmon lurked behind Jalt and Shard. He didn't anything constructive to add to their conversation. And he also didn't like the look of those Urbese. So he loosened his own overcoat and let his hand linger along the grip of his blaster pistol.

And he did his best to look as menacing as he could. Which was plenty, actually. Haarmon was pretty good at looking menacing.

Deep booming laughter echoes across the room.  Dargo apparently knows some funny jokes, at least they're funny by Hutt standards, which probably means that somebody is getting badly hurt.

Jalt scowls, and his right hand strays towards the blaster at his hip, not quite reaching it.

Cordes opens his mouth to speak.  Closes it again, giving Shard a shrewd look.  Then says, "Maybe I can help with that.  I do know some people.  I might be able to call in a favour or two."

Jalt, meanwhile is still glaring at the Hutts, Dargo in particular...

Rhijans waited and watched them withdraw, his face impassive as always, before he turned and walked back aboard the ship, pausing to close up the hatch behind him...just in case anyone had any ideas about trying to rush the ship.  Apparently functional transports were in short supply in these parts...

"Anybody know anything about Nuq Clade?  I want to know whether to encourage Jalt to talk to them when he gets back, or let him know they want to see him and that he better run the other direction..."

"Then maybe you can help us and we can help you," Shard replies.  She's not going to ferry slaves off this world -- rather, she will, but they won't get where they're going -- or any pharmaceuticals that might harm their users, but...some flexibility with stolen goods or the like might be a good idea.  She glances nervously toward Dargo as his laughter rings out.  "Otherwise, maybe nobody gets what they want."

Haarmon and Juragga seem to be keeping control; she's tad worried about Jalt.  "Stay frosty, Jalt.  We've been in worse situations --" which doesn't make this one positive "-- and we'll all make it out.  All."  Her eyes narrow.  "Seeing something specific you don't like?"

Cordes nods, "I don't think you'll have any issues with this job.  Problems maybe, which is why I need a good pilot, but issues... not as far as I know."

Jalt turns his head to look at Shard, "Frosty... right."  He looks back at Dargo, and growls, "Yeah... you might say I'm seeing something I don't like.  I'm seeing the Hutt who just killed Harlon Jalt."

Kourene replies to Rhijans, "I don't know this Nuq Clade specifically, but I've heard a bit about the Clades.  As I understand it, they're descendants of the original settlers here, before the mining company moved in.  Each Clade is a sort of extended family, and they don't work well together.  A bit of rivalry, that mostly shows as occasional thefts from each other, and sometimes brawls when their interests clash.  They also have the same sort of relationship with the company colonists."

"A sort of subdued hostility."

Rhijans gave a brief 'hrmph', thinking over the information Kourene had shared.  "Why do you imagine one of them would seek a charter flight?" he asked simply.They didn't sound like the types to get caught up in planet-hopping...

"Good to hear," Shard sends back to Cordes before returning her attention to Jalt.  And she's glad she did, because suddenly things start to click in her head.

Jalt hadn't been suddenly worried he would end in pieces due to debts...

He had known this Harlon...

Known him well...

Been related to him...

"Hot void," she hisses. "Jalt, was Harlon your brother?  Or father?" Void help her if Harlon was his son. Tortured to death.  "I'm sorry, Jalt - I didn't realize..." Shard trails off, then grips his arm. "Listen to me.  We need to get those parts to get off this world.  But I don't care who we get them from, in the end."

Her grip tightens. "I will back any play you make, Jalt.  Understand?  If now, then now.  But if you want to make sure...we're better off planning this carefully."

Overhearing Jalt's conversation with Shard, Juragga narrowed his teal eyes at the Hutt and tensed.  If things went south, he would be ready... he slipped his paw under his poncho to his bowcaster.

Haarmon could have slapped himself in the head.

He muttered, "Yeah. Ditto. But look. Lots of way to make someone pay that isn't shooting them, yeah? We do what we have to do, we get out, we jack the from orbit. But, like Shard says, whatever you say, goes."

"He's going to die.  And I'll be responsible.  He's not going to get away with killing my kid brother."

Jalt shakes hs head, "But for now we need parts for the Bantha, and Dargo is the best source.  So we'll deal with him, and then I'll make him pay for what he did to Harlon."

On the platform, the Hutts seem to be winding up their business...

Kourene frowns, "Could be anything.  He talked about salvage, so maybe they found something in one of the wrecks that they'd be happier if none of the other Clades knew about it.  Or something that they've traded, and they need someone to deliver it."

Rhijans nodded, and shrugged.  "Odds are good it's something totally innocuous.  I just got put on guard because he offered to pay in Imperial credits..."  He shrugged.

"Not that being on a Hutt's base-world and unable to leave, and having a high-value passenger on board didn't already have me wary."  The delivery was deadpan...he could have been making a joke about his own mindset.  Or he could merely have been offering commentary on the situation.  The ghost of a tight-lipped grimace as he said it didn't really offer much assistance in deciding which one it was.

The second Hutt slithers further back on the platform and half closes its eyes.

Dargo looks around the room, and pretends to see Jalt for the first time.

" Reldan Jalt!  Mah yuna ulwan!  Fa baa doth bom bom janse!"

"Dargo... yes, it's been a while."

"Haku woy uba gee che mi?"

Jalt shakes his head, "Got nothing for you this time.  Next time I come by I'll have something special for you.  This time... well, the Bantha has problems, I need to get some parts.  I can pay."

Dargo laughs, "Dobra kouzago-ake bai babau da.  Mah coy mee dikea doth mee, che wa tapkaconha duapa cou."

Jalt bows, and as he straightens he mutters, "I have a bad feeling about this.  Dargo never offered anything at a low price before."

Kourene considers Rhijans comment about the Imperial Credits, then, "Unfortunately Credits are the most commonly accepted currency in the Galaxy.  If you want to trade with somebody from another planet, then Credits are the most likely medium of exchange.  These people probably scrape together as many Credits as they can to hire offworld pilots."

"I say we let Jalt deal with the situation.  He knows what's acceptable, and what isn't."

"Works for me, Jalt." Shard has yet to meet a Hutt she has respected, and met far too many that the galaxy could do without.  Dargo seems no different from the latter group.  There's no chance she's going to try to stop Jalt; no, he's team, and they'll work out a way to relieve the bloated, murdering sack of his life.

Sometimes one needs to make justice by slapping its label atop 'revenge'.

There's a parlay back and forth between Dargo and Jalt, ending with a whispered warning. "Hutts never do, no, not any of them," Shard quietly agrees.  "Not unless they feel they'll get more out of it than they're 'losing' by not gouging someone with the price."

Her gut rolls.  The one thing worse than bargaining with a Hutt focused on credits is bargaining with a Hutt focused on something it feels more important than credits.

"I thank you for your generosity Dargo.  I will be sure to repay it, in full, once the Bantha is repaired."

"Fa doth wa dosokai che mah yuna ceuah." and the Hutt starts laughing, generating ripples across his corpulent body.

"Well... we need to get going.  The sooner I can see about those parts, the sooner I'll be flying again." the smuggler starts to turn away.

The laughter stops.  "Bo kacanka... "  Jalt freezes...

Oh, fantastic.

Shard can't really jump in here; she can't follow the language, and doesn't want to create a (worse) problem.  All the woman can do for the moment is watch and wait, and try to see what's coming before it materializes.

Her eyes flick left and right, gauging the reactions of any strongarm types the Hutt has in the room.

Dargo slithers forward on the platform...

"Uba nagey vehpobaee wa jakola.  Gee uba vee nan hhont wa Yih naa Jabba?  Haku woy uba bla vehpobaee jen?"

The second Hutt immediately perks up and stares at Jalt, but the smuggler actually looks quite relieved.

"No, I never heard of him.  I don't think he's as famous as the great and mighty Dargo."

Dargo roars with laughter.  "Pacmuecanka doth fa?  Bolla, yoieu doptkee see wata.  Bolla wepta mee pankpa."

Jalt bows and backs away from the platform, muttering, "Everybody just walk.  We're leaving.  And smile."

Tail measuring contest?  "Really?" Shard mutters through thin lips.  Still, better that than something worse...and she doesn't need to be a judge.  Taking Jalt at his word, she offers a short bow of her own with a small smile -- no show of teeth -- and shuffles backward with their pilot until he turns.  Then she, herself, follows suit, resisting the urge to wipe the sheen from her forehead.

Back out in the corridor, Jalt's smile slips, cracks, and settles into a scowl as he makes his way back towards the entrance to the building.

"We'll head back to the Bantha, I want to run another check.  See if there's anything else it might be worth grabbing while Dargo's feeling generous, apart from the stuff we really need."

"Then, when we lift off, I think I'll open fire on his palace before we leave the area."

Shard cocks an eyebrow at Jalt as they stride away.  When she speaks, she keeps her voice low, but avoids whispering.  "This place is probably armored, and has its own defences.  You want to give him a reason for a new paint job?  Or you want him gone?"

Her lips press together, hard enough to push out what little colour remains.  "Because if you want him gone, I'm good for helping you with that.  It'll take planning, and time, but it's not impossible, Jalt."  One hand rises to touch his shoulder, no more than that.  "You're a good friend and part of the team.  You tell me what you want here, and I'll back it."

Harrmon lurked behind Jalt and Shard. He kept his eyes on the rest of the room, watching for anything dangerous.

Or, you know, more dangerous. More pressingly dangerous.