Jedi Insurgency 158

As soon as he heard the name Beldorion, Corvus narrowed his eyes. Although it was only a hologram, he could sense that the Force was strong in this one! 

Clad in robes, and bursting with muscles, this Hutt was a Legends survivor of Order 66, and a former Jedi! One of the few Hutts to be accepted by the Order, he had gone into exile decades ago. From what Corvus could recall, this slug should be the ruler of some world that drained one's mental capacity, making him slightly insane. It would appear that the recent, incredibly strong currents in the Force must've awakened him from his stupor. Adept at Force Persuasion, conjuring localized Force Storms, strong mental abilities, and possessing a body rippling with muscle, the slug had a record of no-diffing Jedi Knights with ease, and captured a Master too. Only when Jedi Leia Organa made her appearance, did Beldorion meet his match. 

Needless to say, this was a particularly dangerous Hutt. His inclusion in this meeting was not good news. 

Finishing his analysis, Corvus tuned in, eager to learn what the Hutt Ruling Council was up to. 

“Greetings, Don Beldorion.” 

At the head of the semi-circle of holographic Hutts sat Beldorion. His presence dominated the call. In Hutt culture, size, and lethargy were the most important aspects of an esteemed figure. Beldorion forwent the lethargic state, yet his bulk was no lesser than his contemporaries. Bulging with muscle, the slug was built like a tank! 

“So it is.” Beldorion’s voice was low and unhurried, rolling through the chamber like distant thunder. 

Several other Hutts seemed to find this dismissive sentence unappealing, and Jabba rolled his eyes, yet all remained silent, waiting to see what he had to say. 

Beldorion’s eyes were half-lidded, as though he was uncaring towards the ‘esteemed’ personage that were present for this meeting. 

“My friends, we come together today…because times are changing. A new force has entered the underworld. A Sith once more threatens our hegemony.” Beldorion said in a slow rumble, and flicked his tongue as he spoke. 

“Darth Maul. Shadow Collective. You whisper these names even when you think no one listens.” Beldorion continued, and shifted his gaze around the room, yet none were willing to meet his eye. 

Several Hutts shifted their girth in discomfort. Their eyes avoided his like servants avoiding the gaze of a king.

Beldorion let the silence linger in the air like a swamp discharge from Dagobah. It was foul, stale, and most assuredly uncomfortable. 

“It makes one wonder…perhaps you elected me Supreme of this Council not for my wisdom. Not out of respect for my accomplishments. Not for my lineage or clan. But because you needed…” He paused, letting the word drip like venom. “…a weapon.”

A murmur rippled through the gathered kajidics.

When some of the council members appeared to be ready to sing their denials, Jabba slapped his arm on his armrest, and let out a bellowing scoff. His tail thumped once against the dais, gathering everyone's attention. 

“Ho ho hoooo…” The laugh rolled through the room. His yellow eyes locked onto Beldorion’s crimson. 

Corvus could sense anger from Jabba, but it was there and gone in a flash. Much more, he sensed that the slug was calm, and calculating. It was a shock to see how fast emotions like rage could be put on display, and then discarded. Perhaps this was why the Hutts were such accomplished businessmen? 

“You speak of respect?” Jabba rasped, voice thick with amusement. “This is business. Maul threatens our supply lines. Our revenue. Our territory. If you can counteract the Shadow Collective, then you sit here as leader. If you deter the Sith, you keep your throne. But without that…why should we follow you?” Jabba said with a wide, ugly smile. His words were said almost as a threat, like a man who knew that he was making an offer that the other could not refuse. 

The other Hutts rumbled agreement, emboldened by Jabba’s bluntness.

Beldorion did not flinch, or erupt into some shouting match. Instead, he held out a hand, and a tied up Mandalorian floated over from nearby. 

“So. I am to be the shield between our empire and the Sith? The bulwark against Maul? Very well. But remember…A leash is only as good as the hand that wields it.” Beldorion whispered.

Then with a squeeze of his muscular arms, he crushed the beskar wearing Mandalorian like a hydraulic press. The armored man was mushed into paste, coating the slug with blood. 

A shiver passed through each member of the council. Even Jabba’s smirk thinned, although curiously, Corvus didn’t sense an iota of fear, instead, there was a slight respect, and then that calculating glint again?! Whatever the case may be, Beldorion had demonstrated his power, that much was certain. 

Slowly, Beldorion raised a gore covered hand to his mouth, and suckled on it like a pup on its mothers teat, the faintest smirk touched his lipless mouth.

“I will deal with Darth Maul, and when I do…you will respect me not due to necessity, but because you should have never doubted me.” Beldorion said with finality, and then cut the feed. 

The remaining Hutts glanced at one another, and then their holograms winked out one by one. Lastly, only one other Hutt remained to speak with Jabba. 

“You are playing a dangerous game, cousin.” The remaining Hutt-said. The slug wore a monocle, and top hat, speaking in a refined manner. 

Glancing at the subtitles, Corvus saw that his name was Gorga Desilijic Aarrpo. Connecting the dots, he saw that he was part of the same sub-clan as Jabba, as Jabba's full name was: Jabba Desilijic Tiure. 

“The louder an Anooba barks, the less you need to worry. Oruba's death has made the rest stiffen with fear, like a vertebrate.” Jabba tsked, and reached into a nearby jar, pulled out a living, frog-like creature, and munched on it with big, greedy bites. 

“But why confront him? We have coexisted with the Sith before. Why not let them kill themselves as usual? What is the price of a few million credits, and some ships when longevity is more important?” Gora rubbed his hands together, and fretted in a wheedily tone. 

“Bah, you do not understand, my cousin. Of course, the Sith will implode after killing one another, this is what Sith do. However, Beldorion is not a Sith. Furthermore, he is one of us! Although hailing from an insignificant clan, this e chu ta, has the gall to demand we look to him for protection! It is one thing to pretend for the so-called Shadow Collective, it is something entirely different to be extorted by some Dark Jedi pretender!” Jabba exclaimed, spittle and frog guts flapped out of his gums, and covered his chin in a thick wad of saliva. 

“You know he can sense things ahead of time. That Mandalorian was part of a 12 man squad, each one a disciple of the old ways. Armed with beskar, they were piecemeal before his might. I heard Cad Bane was on Tatooine, have you invited him to take care of our problem?” Gora said in a panicked tone, and rushed to mention Bane. 

“I've received word that Bane is dead.” Jabba rumbled with a deep laugh, and held up a dataslate. “His killer seems to be quite adept.” 

“Then hire him!” Gora was quick to add. 

“That is a given, cousin, but do not presume to order me!” 

“Acting so tough, tsk, tsk. When you were but a Huttling still in swadling, I was robbing Rodia blind!” Gora flared up. 

“Bah hah hah, Beldorion has you scared, good! Once I remove him, and Maul, I hope your good will remains!” Jabba deeply belly laughed in amusement, yet his narrowed eyes were anything but amused. 

“Very well…I shall notify my contact in the Shadow Collective. Maul will be lured to Nar'Shadaa, and the two will have their meeting. I just hope your contingency plan works out.” Gora slowly responded, looking like he was going to cut the call any moment. 

“Why go through all that? Maul is an animal, he only understands direct commands. I will contact himself, let him understand that the Cartel & the Shadow Collective are due for a renegotiation!” 

“You’re a bold one, cousin.” 

During this interplay, Corvus-who was watching this go down from the side-began to plot against Jabba. To fan the flames of mistrust between Maul & Beldorion, it would be best if he eliminated Jabba during this call! Framing Beldorion seemed rather silly, as Gora appeared to be rather fearful of the Dark Jedi. Rather, if he pretended to be an agent of Maul, perhaps he could convince the slug on the other end to act irrationally. Personally, he wasn't fully convinced that Gora was entirely fearful of Beldorion. Although he could barely sense the emotions of someone through a hologram, he noticed a distinct lack of anxiety, or concern from him. In fact, he suspected that Gora was playing Jabba from the start. And when such a deep player acts irrational…chaos was bound to follow! 

Honestly, he was quite curious to see what Gora's reaction would be to Jabba's assasination. Now that Jabba was cut off from his lackey's, and hangers-on, it was the perfect opportunity to take him out! Realizing that there wasn't much time left before the call was canceled, Corvus got to work. 

Within his inventory, he couldn't store anything larger than a cuirass, and was limited largely to: credits. weapons, armor, ammo, droid parts, fuel, explosives, & stimulants. But most importantly, he could also store food! Having nabbed some salt from the cantina before departing, he [Shadow Hopped] to a column that overlooked Jabba. 

Gripping onto a tiny ledge like a main character from a videogame, he held a hand out. Seconds later, a steady stream of white powder poured down, like sand through a sleuth. 

The result was spectacular. 

Jabba's flesh bubbled, and roiled like a kettle full of boiling water. His green-skinned back fizzed with yellow pus, and Jabba rolled forward, off his dais, and to the floor. A trail of slime-which had once been his bodily fluids, something akin to blood for a mammal-propelled him forward, like a slip'n slide. 

With a wave of his hand, Corvus telekinetically activated the switch opening the trapdoor to the Rancor pit…however, the slug was too fat! 

“What-what!?” Gora exclaimed in surprise at the sudden turn of events. 

Jabba's eyes were wide, his tongue lolled forward, as he tried to pull himself out, yet his short stubby hands continued to slip on the fluid that had been excreted, he was stuck! 

Corvus took this moment to decloak himself, and dropped from the ceiling with a thud. Landing next to the dais-so as to avoid the slime trail-he slowly walked up to Jabba. Pulling out a can of M-Fuel from his cloak, (unique energy from Malastare), he squirted it all over the Hutt like a man going crazy at a campfire. 

Holding out a hand, lightning sparked forth, cooking Jabba alive. The alien was tough, and his bellows shook the throne room, as he struggled well over 10 minutes before slumping forward, never to move again. 

Whilst he had considered using [Revitalize] to make a point, ultimately, he decided to maintain this ‘Sith’ persona. At the moment, the Hutts had no clue that it was actually a Je'daii enacting justice on their genocidal ass's. 

“Gora Desilijic Aarrpo, the Hutt. My master, Lord Maul, foresaw this betrayal..” Corvus darkly chuckled, and with a wave of his hand, [Force Pushed] Jabba down the hole. 

Before Gora could respond, the roar of a hungry Rancor interrupted the call.

Holding out a handful of salt, Corvus blew it towards the projection, eliciting a shudder from the hologram. 

“You're next.”