Ghosts (Neo)

[Poludnica]

He missed Coruscant; its elegant, tidy structure and beautiful gardens. Nar Shaddaa reminded him of the Hutts: shapeless, stinking and ugly. Cassius stared at the bleak landscape below and mulled over how come everything had gone to shit in a span of few years. Only a decade ago he had everything - political influences in the Republic, a firm place in Pius Dea, a goal and a family name that carried power. Cassius still had his company, assets and a powerful crime organization allied with the Hutts but he would always be a foreigner to the fat aliens. The Hutts would never let a human to have any real say in the Cartels future. The worst part was that Cassius understood this sentiment all too well.

The aged man walked away from the tall window and toward the desk. He was alone in the office this late. Most crime lords didn’t move an inch without an army of bodyguards but Cassius thought they would only get in the way. There weren’t many beings that could directly threaten him, especially not on Nar Shaddaa. This didn’t mean he only depended on own skills, that would be foolish. Too many powerful people had died because believed themselves to be invincible. The Livco tower was rigged with automatic defenses, ready to buy Cassius time if worse came to worst.

Not that he was overly worried. Recently his life had been unbearably boring. Cassius spent his life chasing after thrills and now...Now his life circled around the same boring business meetings and training Marcus. The boy would never be a presentable human being but he had an uncanny gift with the force.

With a heavy, tired sigh Cassius sat down and poured himself another glass of whiskey. He placed his long legs on the desk and haphazardly leaned back in the chair. For a moment Cassius admired the exquisite, ridiculously expensive shoes. Over the last seven years, a lot had changed for him but the intrinsic need to hoard everything fashionable and classy stayed the same. At this point, Cassius had no idea how many pairs of shoes he owned. Bored out of his mind, Cassius went through the newest Nar Shaddaa suit catalog, local speeder racing scores, and the top ten vacation spots. Wait...why would Hutts need fashionable suits? They wore what looked like giant socks. The aged human looked down at the emptied glass and decided that thinking about the Hutt fashion sense was a clear sign he had enough for today.

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

Lidah set her sleek silver speeder down on a Livco tower landing pad, glancing up at the building through the tinted glass. For a moment, the suspicion in her eyes went unveiled. Cassius Liviana had ties to the Hutt cartels, after all. His ability to manipulate them had drawn her in all those years ago. It made him a very useful, if very dangerous, ally. Exhaling sharply, she looked away and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Cassius would never have been this sloppy, never in a million years. That didn’t mean as much as it should, however. She had no illusions: they weren’t such good friends that he would give away useful information for free. Just as well. As far as assassination attempts went, she had come away from this morning’s more or less unscathed. There was extensive property damage, of course, but that was almost irrelevant. Lidah climbed out of her car, picking up a bottle of wine out of the passenger seat. Finally, she slung a large leather handbag over one shoulder. After all the long day’s excitement, Lidah had changed into a dark blouse with a cream-and-copper checkered jacket. The security checkpoint relieved her of her weapons, all part of the established ritual. Shown in to Mr. Liviana’s office, Lidah took in the glass, the level of liquid in the decanter. ”So, you’ve been watching the news then?” She set the bottle of emerald wine down on his desk and sank down into a finely upholstered chair. Her bag, with its grisly contents, set on the floor by her feet. ”Someone close to me says Botto the Hutt was behind that clusterfuck of a hit but I’ve never met anyone in the business that brazenly stupid. He’ll still need to die, of course, if only for appearances.” Despite the flippancy in her voice, Lidah studied Cassius for any tells. It was a lovely game that she didn’t get to play very often. Reading someone without any mental defenses was like cheating and Sith weren’t any good at it either if they bought in to the Code. Emotions all out on the sleeve ... There might be freedom in that, she thought, but never power. ”You may want to get your people out in the next few hours. Not that you have any, of course.”

[Poludnica]

There was someone to see him…Cassius senses her before the receptionist made the call. A subtle presence that gave no tells about the thoughts and emotions. This meant she wanted to be recognized by him. „Lidah.” The human sighed. He called the Force and let it increase his metabolism to purge the alcohol. Cassius felt beads of sweat trickling down his temples. The painful pangs of the hangover nestled in the back of his head. The human swallowed bile that threatened to spill as the nausea hit him. The alcohol evaporating rapidly from his body left a faint, sharp smell which mixed with the exquisite cologne Cassius used in generous quantities. He stank like an old brewery. That was when the human realized he had drank much more than initially planned. He lost control, again. ”Fuck.” The aged master muttered, wishing for any kind of healing powers that could rid him of this headache.

His mind sharp and clear again, Cassius had a moment to ponder on the reasons Lidah could have to invade the Livco headquarters. She was in a pickle from what he knew, with her home blowing up but Cassius assumed it had been about the Exchange inner struggle more than anything else. The Cartels didn’t sanction this attack, unless someone went rogue. The two organizations were rivals but relied on a tense truce, at least on Nar Shaddaa. With small gangs growing in strength, they couldn’t risk another turf war.

The female briskly entered his office. Just in case, Cassius raised his mental defenses. Lidah was a skilled telepath, equal in power or so the human suspected. That wasn’t the only thing that made him wary - he owed her. The information Lidah had provided about Nieraan’s and Danica Korriban hideout were crucial in taking Marcus away from them. Cassius didn’t like debts, especially with someone who had Exchange connections but so far their strenuous cooperation brought…mutual gains.

Straight to the point. This was one trait he liked about the alien female. She didn’t stand for vapid bullshit. He followed her gaze to the bottle and cleared his throat, trying to mask embarrassment. „Good evening to you too.” Cassius said with a tired sigh. Lidah was…problematic. She was an alien and the aged master was pretty sure someone grew her kind in jars. She was also dealt with Exchange and reeked of the dark side. Not too much but enough to make his nose wrinkle disapprovingly. On the other hand, the female was also smart, strong-willed skilled telepath - everything Cassius respected in others.

Lidah didn’t look angry nor agitated. On the contrary, she seemed almost frivolous. Something was up. „Huh?” Cassius looked genuinely surprised when the female mentioned Botto. There was no need to hide something like this, giving he had no business in offing Lidah. One of the very few allies on the other side of crime the wall. „Oh, that stupid fuck.” Cassius sighed. „If it’s true, the attack was unsanctioned. He will be dealt with before your people will get to him.” He offered. „But I doubt even that sorry sack of shit would pull something like this, are you sure it’s him?” Cassius asked, while sifting through a drawer to find some painkillers. The pounding headache increased - that was a bad news if the Exchange believed the assassination attempt was the Cartel’s doing. Very bad news.

”Thank you, but I don’t have anyone near Botto nor I associate with him.”









 

[Neology]

He smelled. What a peculiar lapse in manners. Still, Lidah couldn’t blame him for not wanting to have this conversation drunk. It was even a bit complimentary, in a way. The Exchange controlled a vast empire of galactic crime, but the secrecy at the highest levels was intense. Idiots forgot respect, forgot fear. They took their shot and missed. This morning’s attack had been illuminating in that regard, a stark reminder of her past life as Dark Lady of the Sith. Some member of the Order was always losing their temper, breaking their toys with no attention to where they came from. Out here, you had to pay for what you broke. ”I’m sure they were Botto’s men – and I mean past tense in every sense – but the attack was notably disorganized. Wasteful.” Lidah shook her head, less intense as she pondered the eternal question: Who profits? They had to have some kind of access to the Exchange as well, whether genuine or not, to identify Lidah Faine as a target worth all that expense. Well. Perhaps. If it wasn’t their money to spend, that may not matter. And in that case, she was uncomfortably exposed by the efforts that her terribly competent friends had made today in saving her life. A mandalorian gunship setting down in the street in front of the Blind Eye made a hell of a statement. Maybe she could get a picture of that framed for her office. ”Well. I wont complain if you want to save me the trouble of dealing with Botto the Hutt myself. We need access to his files. If someone was playing him, there should be signs.”

[Poludnica]

"Sounds like Botto," Cassius commented dryly. He never liked Botto. The dumb slug was always obtrusive and uncooperative. If anyone had planned to turn his back on the Cartels it would have been Botto. Botto the Slow as many called him. Cassius dislike toward Botto notwithstanding, he couldn't order a hit just because his Exchange contact wanted to. Lidah was a reasonable creature, fortunately. Unlike some of her background Cassius knew. Still, despite the female's superficially laid-back attitude he sensed upset. Not because he was a telepath but simply a good observer and analytical thinker.

"Give me two days," Cassius said after a moment of thoughtful silence. He rubbed his cleanly shaved chin as his brain fervently worked on a plan. "I can't give you access to anything just yet, we will need to investigate," It wasn't what Lidah wanted to hear but he couldn't do better. "If it was Botto, I promise you, I will kill him myself." He offered, exhaling slowly. This shitstorm happened at the worst time possible - just when he was about to take Marcus for longer training away from Nar Shaddaa. Botto always knew how to piss on everyone's parade.

An annoying headache didn't want to go away. As of late the migraine's became more frequent and painful. Stress-induced, according to the doctors. 'Rest.' They said. 'Change the job.' Some added. How could he rest when this kind of crap was going on? "If he was in cahoots with the third party I will show you the proof," Cassius tried to pry his thoughts away from a raging migraine. "We don't want war, Lidah. No one wants it...Maybe Botto does but he is a...special needs Hutt." The disturbing fact Cassius discovered during this conversation was the use of 'we'. We...Not the Republic nobility, nor Pius Dea. Fucking Cartels. His forehead became to pound even more.

[Neology]

”Two days.” Lidah echoed, brow creased. She had been prepared to go tonight with a handpicked team, swift and vicious least anyone else mistake her caution for indolence. And then, the Blind Auction was set to take place so soon. Delayed or missing invitations as a result of this spectacle would be entirely unacceptable. Yet for the time being, Memento could not afford to offend her – at least not until the clone changed hands. Even just a little war was expensive, and that was if you valued the human resources involved not at all. Some members of that proposed strike team … Well, the first rule of her business was to never risk anything she couldn’t afford to lose. Even against a target like Botto, previously shunned and soon to be beggared by that ill-fated morning. Cassius was entirely right. Assuming he could be trusted not to doctor the books – or, at least, the parts that mattered. ”Very well. But you understand that if it takes much longer than quoted, I will have to make a noisy mess of things in reply.” She tapped the bag by her feet with the pointed toe of her flats. The severed head within wobbled, sticky blood on silk lining. A soft but distinctive sound, a bit like a paint roller. ”One of them made it into the Eye with a handful of bombs hidden on his person. He tried to go for the structure instead of the people, overly optimistic in my opinion. But I must be seen to answer it. Or seem to, at any rate.” As long as the practical results were the same, subtle was even the preferred approach. Reality seldom lived up to wild imaginations. ”I’ll see myself out.” Lidah shrugged, climbing smoothly to her feet. Whatever was going on with Cassius, it was starting to seem worse than a simple self-inflicted hangover. Unforgivably rude to acknowledge that in his presence, though.

[Poludnica]

Lidah didn't look happy with his offer but she agreed to it. Cassius let out a soft, tired sigh. It was a difficult position the female put him in. He owed her, but that could be a dangerous alliance. It had taken Cassius decades to build his position among the Hutts and as a human, he could lose it in a matter of moments. Would Exchange take him and his money then? Would Lidah's sympathy go this far?

"Yes, you made your point," Cassius admitted with a sour smirk. He was by no means squeamish but prided himself in being an aesthete who disliked mess of any kind. "Albeit, ruining my exotic carpet won't make the matters to move quicker." He added and leaned back in the chair. Lidah's description of the events was short but poignant. What if they had attacked him? Would he wait two days? "A suicide bombing?" Cassius asked, alarmed slightly. It worried him. Freelancers didn't make such hits. They wanted to make credits and live to enjoy them. That...that suggested fanatics or lunatics. Maybe both. Silently, he counted how many ideological cults lurked on Nar Shaddaa. Too many. And Botto? Botto setting up a suicide attack?

"That's all very strange." Cassius summed up musingly. Lidah wasn't interested in continuing the conversation and neither was he. The human man's head still pounded. He dreamed about the quiet embrace of his bed. "Always good to see you." Cassius just said after the female but without much conviction. "Don't forget your friend." Cassius pointed at the wet bag. He didn't need telepathy to guess what was inside.

"I would hate for a lady to walk home alone at this hour."

--------------------------

Exactly 36 hours later Lidah received an encrypted file which detailed Botto's affairs and connections. He sent this on behalf of the Cartels as a sign of goodwill. The results of the investigation disturbed everyone. Botto had been marked and Cassius tasked with his execution. The grey master could have sent his people to snuff out Botto but this kind of treachery required Cassius personal touch.

The message attached to the documents contained a date and an hour of a meeting along with an offer:

I will be taking out the trash and I could use a hand. It is pretty bulky.
PS You owe me a carpet.
C.

[Neology]

Lidah sat staring at her comconsole for a long time that morning, Botto the Hutt’s web of data spread out before her in shimmering lines. It was too much, too dense for one person to parse – but quite mesmerizing just the same. Part of her desperately envied the Hutts their centuries, the complexities of strategy that they were capable of. And Botto was something of an idiot child among them, merely a couple hundred years old. What would a real master’s data stream look like? She’d probably never get to see such a thing, which rose an excellent question. How much of this had been tampered with, exactly? That required a technical expertise far, far beyond her own. With a regretful sigh, Lidah sent Botto’s files off to be duplicated and analyzed by her hired slicer team, tacking on a couple short notes. Initial filters that they might try. She knew for a fact that the work would be slow and mind numbing. And Cassius had sent such a lovely invitation, so she really had to be going. Mr. Liviana’s club reminded her much of the owner: tidy and overly discerning for her tastes. It was also nearly empty at this hour of the morning, like her own Blind Eye. Security insisted on keeping her equipment crate and the rolled up Evocii reed mat that Lidah tried to carry in under her arm. ”Handle that with care, if you please.” She grumbled, a blanket statement for both. ”It’s more valuable than it looks. Promise.”