Plans and Prizes

Posted on Sun Jul 14th, 2013 @ 8:10am by Zrad Rezer† & Nala Sao & Klav Thurn
Edited on on Wed Feb 28th, 2018 @ 12:50am

2,157 words; about a 11 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: Throne Room, Jericho
Timeline: Shortly after "A Captivated Audience"

OLD

Zrad grinned, an affectation that did not suit his battle-hardened visage. "Your time here will be very short, don't you worry about that, Jetii. We'll just have to see who's more interested in you - the Hutts... or Axion." He patted Bomoor's back heavily with a gloved hand. Then, with long, powerful and confident strides, the large Mandalorian placed his helmet under one arm as he marched with purpose off behind them before his booming voice then called back to them.

"Welcome to Jericho, boys!"

NEW

Zrad Rezer sat upon his self-forged throne of bones and weapons that overlooked the antechamber that served as his throne room within Jericho, the raised dais making clear his dominance and superiority over all that came within his presence. That, alongside his battle-scarred blue Mandalorian armour, itself an amalgamation of Mandalorian design and heavy modifications and upgrades that made clear its combat-ready purpose, further cemented his sure, deserved and just position atop the hierarchy of mortals.

The screams of the Twi'lek slave girl that had attempted to seduce him just days before had finally subsided as the undersized pair of youthful rancors he had released into her cage concluded their session of tug-of-war (in which both had won, claiming separate halves of the foolish green woman), whilst a whimpering figure continued to wallow in his own defecations, no eyes to let him see when the various predators Zrad had would be unleashed upon him.

Not only did they further serve to highlight his power, but such things also kept his men amused in-between battles; it was a just reward for their fine work under his brilliant and deadly rule, and they knew it well. Whilst their thirst might not be as insatiable or as pure as his own, Zrad knew they relished the undeniably necessary unceasing war he provided and increased on a daily basis, and that was enough for him, but they often sought out other vices, as was deserving of warriors in service to him.

Of course, those unworthy often became the entertainment, if he did not simply execute them immediately, unless they deserved a true death, in which they then had the honour of being personally slain by the most mighty of True Mandalorians... himself.

Tearing the last of the flesh away from the bone he was tearing great chunks from, whilst keeping his mouth amazingly clean of grease or mess, Klav Thurn marched towards him, deferential yet uncowed simultaneously. He was a worthy second to Zrad's first, and he acknowledged Klav as he threw the cleaned bone into the bucket by his throne.

"We have made contact with the Cult of Axion, sir," he said with practised military precision, his helmet concealing his ravaged and pockmarked face.

Grinning before grabbing another chunk of meat, Zrad nodded to Klav. "Begin transmission," he ordered before nestling his teeth into the fried flesh. The holoemitters tied in all about the chamber activated, and a lithe holographic blue form shimmered into existence before the Mandalorian.

"My, my." A low, velvet voice spoke, matching the equally svelte figure of Axion's Nautolan apprentice, her dark eyes beautiful and dangerous, "Someone is hungry."

Zrad's intelligent eyes passed over the lithe form of the Dark Jedi for just a moment, but he did not speak until he had torn away all of the meat from the bone and swallowed, and when he did speak, it was the careful yet oddly aggressive voice of a calculating warrior. "I hunger insatiably for something really rather different," he said gruffly, glaring at the woman. "Perhaps, one day, I will gorge upon your master and his followers. That would be a worthy feast of death and blood."

The Mandalorian shifted his weight upon the throne, resting his armoured arms as he leant back, entirely unsmiling and unamused. "But why now do I have to bother myself with you and not Axion? I trust he does not cower behind your skirts?"

In the name of diplomacy, Nala refrained from biting a reply to Zrad's comment about feasting on the death and blood of the Cult, instead smiling prettily at the man. Not showing just how much it angered her that the Mandalorian could even suggest that her beloved Master would cower behind anyone.

"My Master trembles before no one." She clarified smoothly, just a hint of hardness in her voice, "The only reason he is unable to deal with you himself is because he is away." And tilting her head so that her deep, black eyes best reflected the light, Nala's voice was teasing, "You'll just have to trouble yourself with me a while longer, I'm afraid."

Zrad merely watched her for a few moments, before baring his teeth in an animalistic take on a grin. "So be it, dar'jetii, so long as you can be trusted to carry a simple message to your master without incident." And then he shrugged. "Unless, of course, you wish to use what I offer you to unseat Axion and take power from his cold, twitching corpse... Or perhaps he will gut you like a pathetic animal and ensure he position. Strength will prevail, and that is, after all, all that matters. I care not which of you rules your cult - just that you give me what I want in return."

Fixing his eyes on her for just a few seconds, he then turned to one of his men, barking orders in Mando'a. "I rather think you will be quite keen to get your slender green fingers around this particular prize," he growled as the man passed the object to Thurn, who in turn then passed it over to Zrad, who held it up, plain for Nala to see. As the light caught it, the palm-sized jewel shining a deep crimson, although that sight would probably not be translated well through the holocommunication. "It's my understanding that your master is rather keen to get his hands around these little jewels - so much so that he has even upset one of the biggest Hutt clans in the Cartel for them... and the jetii in the process."

"That we did." Nala replied, pride in her voice as she leaned forward to better inspect Zrad's treasure. Black eyes washing over the red gem, almost hungrily, she nevertheless managed to tear her eyes off it, back to the Mandalorian, "Yet the jewels that my Master seeks are no ordinary gems. What proof do you have that this rock you hold is what my Master wants?" She asked, her brow ridge rising, as if to challenge.

Zrad gave a small ugly huff of a brief laugh before casually throwing the crystal over to Thurn, who instinctively and easily caught it. "Clever girl," Rezer rumbled, "to be sure of your target before engaging. It meant nothing to me before one of the careless lackwits in my employ knocked over an obsidian statue we had... procured from one of those pretentious pleasure yacht cruises they enjoy in the Inner Rim. It was some Hapan piece, almost a millennium old, some sculpture crafted in honour of one of their Queen Mothers. I simply saw it as something to make some easy credits out of, but after it went crashing down, that came tumbling out of it."

Opening a panel on his left wrist, Zrad entered some commands into the small device encased there, and a bleeping was immediately heard from Nala's end. "That's all the research I had my warriors do on the piece, as well as samples taken from the statue's remains. If you're interested, I can have one of the broken pieces shipped to a destination of your choosing... but the crystal stays here." He gave another apathetic shrug. "If you want it though, you must come here to get it."

Nala gave a passing glance at the research just sent to her. It seemed that the statue had once been of the Jedi Tenel Ka, the Hapan princess turned Queen Mother. Nala only knew this because Tenel had been lover to Jacen Solo, also known as Darth Caedus. The data sent by Zrad seemed convincing enough. Internally, Nala rejoiced that it would be her who would deliver promising news to her Master, not that cocksure brat, Trey.

Eyes flitting back up from the display to Zrad, Nala smirked as she placed one hand on her hip, "Why so adamant that I come to your territory? Is a trap laid there, waiting for me?"

For while Nala was confident she had nothing to fear from this non-Force sensitive Mandalorian warrior, she would rather not be ambushed. A half-way point for a trade always suited her better. That is, until she had grown as powerful as her Master, Axion. Then she would be strong enough to meet anyone on their ground, any day. But until that day came, it was wise to be careful.

Zrad had already grown tired of this, shifting uncomfortably on his throne as at this verbal dallying. "The crystal stays here, woman," he half-growled, half-sighed. "Whether you have it or I sell it to some other upstart sorcerer's cult makes no difference to me, so long as I get what I want - a war, and the means to wage it in glory. If you want this crystal, come with credits or weapons or something else of worth to me, and I'm sure we can make a trade. Oh, and this might be of interest to you as well."

Opening the palm of his left hand, he once again pressed one of the switches on the wrist device, and a small holographic image of two figures in adjoining cells appeared - the two Jedi he had captured after they attacked Jericho. Honestly, he would love to make a spectacle of them by having a fierce battle that he could watch, but he ultimately wanted nothing more than enhancing his reputation and warrior's glory. Even the tale he now told Axion's apprentice was a lie, for he had no interest in credits.

As he had told the Caanan, Zrad Rezer deals in something entirely different. She would be lured here with the promise of the crystal and the Jedi, whilst the Hutts would be lured here with the promise of both and the cultist. The ensuing battle would be glorious, word spreading quickly and bringing more of the True Mandalorians to his banner. As well as the prestige, he could keep whatever tokens either side brought for whatever particular favour they were seeking under false pretences, all for his glory and the war he sought.

The restoration of the Mandalorian way.

Although his mental blocks were well-honed and almost impervious to simple Force tricks, Zrad was now pleased the ysalamiri all about him and Jericho would keep the Nautolan from reading any of these thoughts or feelings, shifting once more in his throne as he looked to see her reply to his extra false offer.

At the sight of the two Jedi, recognizing them instantly, it took all of her discipline not to flinch, gazing at the Jedi scum in their filthy cells with such unbridled anger, Nala could feel some of the room’s decorations tremble around her. Stamping down on her power, Nala’s dark eyes snapped to Zrad’s cold, blue ones—made a more intense hue from the holoprojector. These Jedi had been a thorn in her Master’s side for some time. To know that she could end them both for Axion brought Nala great satisfaction.

“Your price?” She slithered out.

At that, Zrad did grin. A nasty thing, unattractive and dangerous-looking. "Surprise me, Nautolan, but so long as I can use whatever you bring to bring me glory and smash the skulls of my foes and you are the one to come, the trade will be more than fair. As they are, they are just wasting rations and space, and as fun as it would be to pit them against my rancors, I get the feeling whatever you want to do to them will be far more... rewarding."

After a few seconds, he let the grin drop and moved to grab another chunk of meat, using it to point directly at the image of Nala. "You've been sent our coordinates and a pass phrase to get through the system safely. Whether or not you let Axion know about my offer is up to you... I think you'll make a worthy warrior." Not waiting to get Nala's reply, he nodded for the transmission to be ended, and the Dark Jedi blinked out of visible existence.

Sitting back in his throne as he bit down hard but cleanly into the meat, Zrad felt his pulse building and the excitement within him growing. The coming battle would be one worthy of song.

Jericho will run red.

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