Operation: Slave Ruse, a Star Wars Fanfic

Operation: Slave Ruse Part 1. A Clever Ruse

Planet Location: Nar Shaddaa, small moon in orbit of Hut Homeworld Nal Hutta. Time: 21 hundred hours.

Nar Shaddaa was a world most space travelers steered away from, but to any wayward and weary voyager the small moon which orbited Nal Hutta seemed like an ideal place to rest and resupply. Nicknamed "The Smuggler's Moon", it was a world where anything illegal elsewhere could be bought and sold without regulation which attracted scoundrels that lurked in the shadows of the alleys and lower city levels. A grim and bleak world, a celestial body filled with decaying landscape and congested, polluted cities, the moon lacked what Coruscant possessed. Although a mirrored construct of the central capital of the Galactic Republic, the small moon failed in comparison. Filling its hazy skies; ancient refueling spires and poorly maintained loading docks reached out from deceased soil while other structures were built in the upper atmosphere.

Below the surface, hidden from the view of the towering skyscrapers, a dark underworld of criminal activity thrived and prospered without check. Gangs, thieves, and smugglers alike were hiding within the shadows of the city streets as they sought to prey upon those who sought rest. One organization reigned supreme amongst the others who often squabble for power and territory. Controlled by a single individual, a sly intergalactic gangster who owned and operated most of the entertainment sector of the moon, the criminal mastermind was known by many as "The Lord of 'Shaddaa". From within the heart of New Vertica, the planet's main entertainment district, the head of the Jawuk Crime Family dwelt in lavished comfort and operated from within the moon's top night club "Ja-hutta". Inside the rowdy establishment, a lounge built to cater to those who sought to unwind and partake in simple pleasantries, the fierce tycoon watched as his guests squandered their credits on food, drink, gambling, and slaves.

As he watched the crowd from afar, surrounded by his most loyal associates while seated on a dais throne in the back of the dimly light club, the establishment's owner couldn't help but smirk a cheeky grin while his fiery red eyes gazed out into the lively crowd of aliens and travelers beneath neon lights and glowing tones of color. A monstrous creature, he was a slimy being, as well as foul and corrupt. A powerful and influential member of the Hutt species, a vile and despicable sentient, rumor stated that the Hutt was to be even fouler than Jabba of Tatooine, and twice as cruel. Feared by all throughout the Outer Rim Territories, the intergalactic gangster was a repulsive sight; hideous and grotesque. He had a large mouth capable of swallowing any morsel with ease. Two stubby arms protruded from the space slug's thick, leathery skin, which was wrinkled, and slime covered. Tattooed upon the folds of green, brown, and tan skin of the Hutt; tribal designs covered the being in purple ink. Tribal symbols ran up and down the Hutt's arms, meaty neck, and the back of his head. Around his massive neck the Hutt wore a hefty gold necklace that weighed more than half the weight of an infant Bantha which did nothing to make the creature more appealing, but instead displayed his wealth.

Unlike his distant relative who ruled from a citadel within the Dune Sea of Tatooine, Jawuk the Hutt proclaimed his dominion over the Smuggler Moon. Unchallenged, not even by the might of the Galactic Republic or the Confederacy of Independent Systems, Jawuk sat comfortably as he racked in the revenue and illegal goods that passed through Ja-hutta. Amused by the very thought of the credits he had obtained through his various lucrative dealings he had orchestrated; the Hutt had almost forgotten about his latest acquisition. Slowly he turned his mound of a head and set his gaze upon a silver protocol droid that served him and his organization faithfully.

"Bring me my new slave girl. I wish to make her be my slave-wife." Jawuk spoke in Huttese with a deep chortle in his throat.

The silver protocol droid, a bipedal machine designed to imitate human life, bowed despite its lack of upper body movement. "Of course, your Exaltedness. Right away!"