Star Wars - Darth Plagueis

yawning reception area warmed by colorful rugs, tapestries, and a grand fire. Gardulla Besadii the Elder, crime lord and notorious gambler, floated in on a palanquin appropriate to her great size, attended by an entourage that included her Rodian majordomo, bodyguards, and others. Damask’s own guards were quick to usher everyone but the Hutt back into the waiting room. Larsh Hill and the two other dark-cloaked Muuns remained at Damask’s side.
    Curled upright on her powerful tail, Gardulla extended her bare, stubby arms toward the fire. “I’ve been admiring your entertainers, Magister,” she said. “Particularly the Theelin singers. Perhaps you could help me procure some.”
    “We’ve a Twi’lek who supplies the females,” Damask said from his armchair. “You’ll have to speak with her.”
    Gardulla noted the sharp tone in his voice. “On to business then.”
    Damask offered a gesture of apology. “A busy schedule affords me scant time for pleasantries.”
    Unaccustomed to straight talk, the Hutt frowned, then said, “I plan to make a grab for Tatooine, Magister, and I’ve come to solicit your support.”
    “An arid world in the Arkanis sector of the Outer Rim,” Hill supplied quietly from behind the armchair.
    “By support , I presume we are talking about credits,” Damask said.
    Gardulla repositioned herself on the litter. “I’m aware that you disapprove of spice and slavery, but there are profits to be made on Tatooine by other means.”
    “Not moisture farming, then.”
    Gardulla glowered. “You mock me.”
    Damask motioned negligently. “I tease you, Gardulla. I know little about Tatooine, other than that the planet was heir to an ecological catastrophe in the dim past, and that its vast deserts now support a population of ne’er-do-wells, scoundrels, and hapless spacers of all species. I’ve heard it said that nothing pans out on Tatooine, and that beings who reside there age prematurely.”
    Damask knew, too, that the ancient Sith had once had an outpost on Tatooine, but he kept that to himself.
    “Fortunately, longevity comes naturally to my species,” Gardulla said. “But I don’t want for enemies of a different sort, Magister. Enemies who would like nothing more than to see me in an early grave.”
    “The Desilijic clan.”
    “They are precisely the reason I wish to remove myself from Nal Hutta—and from the likes of Jabba Desilijic Tiure and the rest. With your financial assistance I can accomplish that. I know that you have befriended Hutts in your own planetary neighborhood.”
    “It’s true that Drixo and Progga have done well for themselves on Comra,” Damask said, “but their successes came at a high cost. What are you offering in return for our investment?”
    A light came into the Hutt’s dark, oblique eyes. “A Podrace course that will make those on Malastare and on your own Muunilinst seem like amateur runs. In addition, the renaissance of an annual Podrace event that will bring tens of thousands of gamblers to Tatooine and fill my coffers to overflowing.” She paused, then added: “And I’m willing to take you on as a partner.”
    “A silent partner,” Damask amended.
    She nodded. “As you wish.”
    Damask steepled his long fingers and raised his hands to his jutting chin. “In addition to a percentage of the profits, I want you to arrange for Boss Cabra to operate freely on Nar Shaddaa.”
    Gardulla adopted an incredulous look. “The Dug crime boss?”
    “You know the one,” Hill said sharply.
    The Hutt fretted. “I can’t make promises, Magister. Black Sun is deeply entrenched on Nar Shaddaa, and the Vigos are grooming AlexiGaryn to assume control of the organization. They may not appreciate or permit—”
    “Those are our terms, Gardulla,” Damask cut in. “Find some way to allow Cabra to reach an accommodation with Black Sun and we will support your takeover of Tatooine.” He gestured toward the fortress courtyard. “This very night I can arrange for you to meet with officials representing the Bank of Aargau, who will advance whatever amount of credits you need.”
    After a long moment of silence, Gardulla nodded. “I accept your terms, Magister Damask. You will not be disappointed.”
    When the Hutt had steered her antigrav litter from the room, members of the Sun Guard showed in a group of tall reptilian sentients who stood on two thick legs and whose broad snouts curved downward at the tip. Damask’s previous contact with the