Having arrived on Hutta, Valajin meets with his crew, consisting of Jory, Braden and Mako. He learns that, in order to earn a sponsorship needed to enter the Great Hunt, their team must win the favor of the crime lord Nem'ro the Hutt. In order to impress Nem'ro enough for a meeting, Valajin now chases down a wanted fugitive named Vexx...

Either the rumors Mako had spread traveled faster than he thought, or he really was that scary-looking. Either way, nobody on the streets tried to stop Valajin or slow him down as he ran for the spaceport. He only came to a stop once he arrived at the entrance hall, and that was to grab one of the Gamorrean guards' attention. "Docking Bay 3?" he asked.

The Gamorrean grunted and crossed their arms without answering. Valajin rolled his eyes and pulled out one of his credit sticks, tossing it to them. That got them to point to the right of where the entrance hall split. He nodded his thanks and started running again. His heavy boots echoed on the metallic floor, and once he hung a right at the fork he was able to see a holographic number 3 hanging over the first hall on his left. 'Hope I'm not too late,' he thought, running straight through the entrance.

That immediately put him in view of five humans and a Zabrak, all of them lounging around on top of various crates. He blinked. Right, Vexx had hired some muscle to guard his safehouse. Of course he'd get some more to cover his escape.

Not that it would help, as the first thing Valajin did was fire another wrist-rocket, aiming for the center of the group. Vexx's crew, clearly not having expected someone to actually be coming for him, didn't realize something was wrong until they heard a sharp hiss. One of the humans turned, saw the rocket, and their eyes nearly popped out of their head.

"Incoming!" he shouted, but it was too late. The rocket exploded in a blinding flash of light and heat, the force of the blast sending crates and bodies in several directions. Two gangsters were immediately engulfed, their screams drowned out by the explosion.

Valajin didn't pause to admire his work, and drew his blasters. The remaining gangsters, dazed and disoriented, scrambled to their feet as they tried to make sense of the sudden chaos. A human, his clothes singed and his face twisted in fear, raised his blaster rifle before Valajin dropped him with a single, precise shot to the chest. The man's body convulsed briefly before crumpling to the ground.

The Zabrak, recovering more quickly than the others, shouted a rallying cry and fired at Valajin. The blaster bolt grazed his shoulder, leaving a scorch mark on the pauldron. Valajin snarled and retaliated with a shot from both pistols. The Zabrak dove behind a crate, the bolts whizzing past him.

Two more humans attempted to flank Valajin, their rifles spitting rapid bursts of energy. He ducked under to the shot and rolled forward, letting the others pass through where he had been. The humans tried to track him and open fire again, but he ended his roll on one knee and with a blaster aimed to either side. He fired back, taking down one human with a headshot. The other one, panic evident in his eyes, tried to retreat but was cut down by a volley of shots as he turned both guns on him.

The Zabrak, still crouched behind the crate, fired over it at him. His shots went wide, however, and Valajin easily dodged them. He could try charging at them or moving around to where their cover wouldn't protect them… He smirked. 'Or I could do this,' he thought, and raised his arm again, his rocket launcher primed and ready.

The Zabrak's eyes widened in realization, but he had nowhere to run. The rocket launched, a streak of small metallic death hurtling straight at him and the crate he was crouched behind. That explosion was just as thunderous as the previous, though this time only one crate was turned into scrap metal. The Zabrak's body went skidding across the floor, lifeless before he even came to a stop.

Valajin looked around, making sure that everyone that could shoot him was definitely dead. Once he was certain, he pressed on. Past that initial room was the actual docking bay, sky open for shuttles to land or leave. To his right was a set of stairs that led to a landing pad with one such shuttle. At the base of the stairs was a bald, heavyset male human with a vibroblade on their back, and in front of the shuttle was a dark-skinned, relatively well-built human in a pilot's jacket and a blaster at his side.

Bingo.

As he arrived, this human proved they were more on guard than the others by actually noticing his entrance. "Vexx, we got company!" he called, drawing his vibroblade.

From the top of the stairs, Vexx didn't look worried at all. "What's this, a lawman?" he said with a scoff. "Never thought the day would come when the dashing Vexx would be cornered by an ugly alien brute."

Valajin let that 'alien' comment slide; he had heard and said much worse on Rattatak. Still… "I'm not sure 'dashing' is the right word," he said, looking him up and down and not seeing anything that impressive. He supposed some people might like the flyaway hair, bright teeth and confident swagger, but all that meant to him was that Vexx cared a lot about his appearance.

Vexx snorted, walking down the stairs towards him while his bodyguard moved to the side to let him. "Funny, but Vexx knows something you don't. You see, Vexx is not your average thug. Oh, no, no," he said, giving him a cocky smirk. "Vexx is the greatest quickdraw artist in the galaxy . Vexx can shoot your ears off so fast, you won't hear yourself scream."

There was a brief moment where Valajin just stared at him. They were several things he could have commented on in response. Whether Vexx always talked about himself in third person, how ridiculous the idea of quickdraw artistry was, or how that wasn't how ears worked . Braden had said that this guy would be either a madman or a gloryhound. Guess now he knew which one. And he wasn't interested in entertaining anyone's ego unless they were paying him.

"Show me," was all Valajin said before he drew his right blaster.

Vexx's eyes widened and he reached for his blaster as well. Not fast enough, however, as the Rattataki fired once and winged him in the shoulder, making him cry out in pain. It also prevented him from fully raising his blaster. Vexx's shot went into the dirt instead, and he glared up at Valajin. "Cheater!" he yelled, while his bodyguard gave an enraged shout and charged at him.

"Talker," Valajin replied, before raising his left blaster as well and unleashing a barrage of bolts. While Vexx dove for cover behind the stairs, his bodyguard took the shots with a grunt of pain but continued charging. Before he could back away, the large human swung the vibrosword in an arc aimed at his midsection.

Valajin sidestepped that strike mostly, but not completely. The tip of the blade cut across the surface of his armor, creating a high-pitched shriek and a small spray of sparks.. His next pair of shots were aimed at the thug's legs and both were deflected by the vibrosword, the blade humming as it absorbed the energy. The bodyguard pressed his advantage, making a series of wide, sweeping strikes that forced Valajin to retreat as each swing came perilously close to hitting him.

Vexx, gritting his teeth against the pain, aimed and fired his blaster with his left hand. Compared to the close-range sword, those were easier for him to dodge and weave around. The moment Vexx stopped shooting to let his blaster cool down, Valajin took the opening and fired a rocket at the stairs Vexx was hiding behind. The bodyguard saw it and tried to cut the rocket out of the air, but it was a hair too fast.

As it streaked through the air past him, it hit the metal stairs and nearly blew the lower section of them off. While Vexx was somehow lucky enough to not be hit by any shrapnel, he was not lucky enough to avoid the explosion. Vexx was thrown backward, his blaster skittering out of his hand as he hit the ground hard.

His bodyguard roared in anger again and charged at him even faster, blade raised high. This time, however, Valajin knew what to expect. As the guard came close, Valajin holstered one blaster and stepped into his space. Before the surprised guard could swing down, the Rattataki swung up and buried his metal-plated fist into the man's throat. The guard's eyes went wide and he let out a strangled choke, spittle flying from his mouth. With his free hand, Valajin fired his remaining blaster point-blank into the bodyguard's chest.

The large man grunted in pain but didn't fall, his size and sheer determination keeping him in the fight. He pushed Valajin back with a shove, bringing his sword around for another strike. Valajin twisted away and crouched down. Using his open hand to reach for his left boot, pulled out a small vibrodagger he had tucked in it. More than ever, he was thankful for his mother's first fighting lesson: if you can bring a knife, always do. Even if you had more lethal weapons as well, a knife was always something you'll wish you had when you needed it.

He circled the bodyguard, looking for an opening. As the bodyguard swung the vibrosword in another wide arc, Valajin ducked low and slashed at the man's left leg with his dagger, cutting through the muscle right above his knee. The bodyguard roared in pain and fell to one knee, his balance compromised. Before he could recover, Valajin delivered a powerful kick to the bodyguard's chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. He pointed his blaster at the fallen man's head, a grim look of determination on the human's face. With a final, precise shot, the bodyguard's struggle ended.

Valajin turned his attention to Vexx, who was struggling to get up, his face contorted with pain and fear. He walked over slowly, his blaster trained on the gunslinger. Vexx reached for his fallen blaster, but Valajin stepped on his hand, pinning it to the ground. "I'd say that I'm sorry I need to do this, but…" he said, giving Vexx a shrug.

Vexx looked up at him, his bravado shattered. "Please... don't…!" he begged.

Valajin didn't flinch. He aimed his blaster and pulled the trigger, putting one right between Vexx's eyes.

Silence fell over the warehouse, broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside. Valajin holstered his weapons and surveyed the scene as he took a moment to catch his breath. On his own, Vexx had been no issue, but both him and his lackeys…

Valajin let out a small smirk. Once word got around that he took down Vexx's entire crew, it would send the message that signing on with his ilk would be a death sentence as long as he was in town. That would go a long way to boosting his reputation.

Taking a moment to pick up Vexx's blaster–it never hurt to have a spare–he then knelt next to his body and began patting it down. He'd be willing to take the head back as proof of the kill, but he'd prefer not to have to deal with that mess. Hopefully, there was something else he could use as proof of the kill.

His search was rewarded with a set of ID tags on a necklace tucked under Vexx's jacket. Once he yanked the tags off, Valajin rose to his feet. With a final, satisfied glance at the bodies of Vexx and his bodyguard, he turned and walked away, whistling a tune as he went.

Valajin was sill whistling that tune as he entered The Poison Pit and began heading for Braden's suite. He was also tossing Vexx's ID tags from one hand to the other, ignoring anyone else in the cantina that might have wanted to ask something of him. He had just completed his first big bounty, he could afford to be a little picky. Besides, once he and his team had won the Great Hunt, they might be able to afford never to work again.

Not that Valajin planned to stop hunting even if he won the thing. What kind of fights would he miss out on if he retired?

Turning a corner and knocking on Braden's door, he waited for a moment for it to open. When it didn't he hummed and tried to open it himself. To his slight surprise, the door slid open, unlocked.

Valajin's brow furrowed, but he let it go in favor of a smile as he stepped inside. "Guess which loudmouth from Corellia I just–" he started.

Then he froze, the ID tags clattering to the ground as he missed catching them. But Valajin barely noticed, looking ahead.

Braden and Jory were both lying on the ground, turned away from him. They weren't moving.

Without a word, Valajin ran over and dropped to one knee next to Braden. Rolling him over, he saw that the old man had three blaster wounds on his front–one over his chestplate, one in the shoulder, and one in his stomach. Doing the same for Jory revealed a similar story. It had taken half a dozen shots to the torso to bring the Nikto down, and whoever had shot him had followed it up with a headshot for good measure.

"Jory! Braden!" he heard someone shout, and he looked up to see Mako standing in the doorway with wide eyes. Blast.

Valajin stood up as she ran inside. "What happened here?! Are they… Is Braden…?" she demanded, looking past him at the two of them.

He nodded gravely. "He looks pretty dead. Jory, too," he confirmed.

Mako reared back as if she had been slapped. "No…" she started. "The old man's… really dead? But-But he… oh…damn it!" she said, before rushing past him to drop to her knees next to Braden. He could already see the tears starting to form as she checked him for a pulse. When she found none, those tears fell in earnest.

For a moment, Valajin simply stood there, unsure of what to do while Mako sobbed over their bodies. He wasn't a forensic expert, he had no way of knowing who did this. And any words of solace he could offer felt hollow. He had known Braden and Jory for a day, what in the stars could he say?

Eventually, he settled on "Someone did this. And they're going to pay."

That got her to look up at him, her eyes magnified by her crying. "I.. I've been with Braden for years. He found me bleeding in a gutter on Nar Shaddaa, and took me in," she told him, before looking down at Braden. "I just… I can't believe he's gone."

His expression softened. "Losing people you care about… It never gets easy," he said. Life on Rattatak was brutal, and death was common even if you stayed out of the pits. That didn't make them numb to it.

Mako shook her head and slowly stood up. "I never imagined… but I can handle this. I can," she said, trying to sound firm and resolute. She didn't quite succeed, but Valajin didn't comment on it. She then walked over to her terminal, turning it on. "Jory and I set up surveillance all over this room when we first reserved it. That'll have recorded whatever happened," she revealed.

Valajin nodded. "Smart thinking," he told her, walking over to stand next to her as she typed.

Then Mako's attempt at a calm expression turned frustrated. "Blast it, someone tampered with the recording. They didn't erase it, though, so I might still be able to…" she said, before trailing off. After a moment, she said "Here we go," and the holoprojector flared to life.

The first thing Valajin saw were the images of Braden and Jory facing the door. Both of them tensed when two men walked into the room. They were human and wearing identical sets of heavy armor, including jetpacks and wrist-mounted flamethrowers. The one on the left had dark blond hair, green eyes and an aristocrat's features, though that was marred by the tribal tattoo on the left side of his face. The other one had black hair in a mohawk, a thin mustache and sideburns, and one green eye while the right one had been replaced with a cybernetic prosthetic.

"Move and you're dead," Braden warned. "Now, if you know what's good for you, you'll back out that door nice and slow," he told them, hand hovering over his blaster.

The blonde one gave him a smirk. "Oh, I know what's good for me. Winning the Great Hunt won't just be good, but splendid," he replied. "When I win, the entire galaxy will know the name Tarro Blood. And I'll charge the most extravagant fees for my services, won't I, Sedyn?" he continued, looking over at their compatriot.

"The highest in the galaxy," Sedyn agreed. "Only kings, emperors and CEOs will be able to afford you."

Valajin glanced away from the recording when he heard Mako gasp, seeing her expression of surprise. He refocused, however, when Braden said. "Tarro Blood? I've heard of you. You were nearly crippled by the other Mandalorians during the last Great Hunt ten years ago."

Tarro's smirk noticeably dimmed. "Ah, yes… that. A rather unfortunate bit of history. Rest assured, however, that I plan to win this time. Which will be far simpler if my competition doesn't extend beyond my fellow Mandalorians," he said. "The Twi'lek blademaster from Ord Mantell? Gone. The Chiss droid maker with a fondness for explosives? Also gone. That means your protege is next."

Jory stepped forward, glaring at Tarro. "Then your hunt has failed. Valajin is not here, and now you will have no chance to kill him!" he declared.

But that just made Tarro chuckle. "You misunderstand. I'm not here to kill him, and the individuals I mentioned are still very much alive. After all, the Hunt's rules forbid competitors from killing each other unless explicitly told otherwise," he pointed out, before looking over at Sedyn. "So, how does one stop a charging gundark?"

Sedyn gave Braden and Jory a bloodthirsty grin. "You blast their legs out from under them," he answered.

"Precisely," Tarro confirmed with a smile. "While you kill the upstart's crew, I'll be out in the hall, innocently unaware."

As he turned and began to leave the room, Braden yelled "Jory, shoot to kill!" and went for his blaster.

The last thing the recording showed was Sedyn out-drawing both him and Jory, shooting them both in the chest. Braden tried to shoot anyway, but Sedyn called "Too late, old man!" and shot him again in the shoulder. Then it cut out, the rest of it unrecoverable.

Once the recording had finished, Mako clenched her fists and tried to burn a hole through where the holo had been. "That… that scum! He had his lackey kill them. He didn't even have the guts to do it himself!" she said, her voice tight with barely-restrained anger.

Although not as intense, there was anger in Valajin's gaze as well. "He's a coward," he agreed. Even if he didn't like someone, if he wanted them dead, he did it with his own hands. Remembering that look from before, he said "Does that name ring any bells? Tarro Blood?"

Mako nodded. "Yeah. Tarro's a big shot, even for a Mandalorian. Son of an Alderaanian noble, trained by a previous Hunt Champion, earned a lot of successful bounties early in his career. He was the favorite to win the last Great Hunt, which rubbed a lot of other Mandalorians the wrong way," she told him. "They worked together to make sure he not only lost, but barely survived. Left him disgraced and out on his back for years."

"So now he's stacking the deck in his favor to make sure it doesn't happen again," Valajin concluded. Even if he understood it, that didn't change the fact that Tarro had his crew killed. "I'll find him, even if I have to chase him to the other end of the galaxy."

Mako sent him a look of gratitude. "Thanks for saying that. Braden didn't deserve this, and neither did Jory," she said, before frowning. "There's a problem with that, though. Between getting us here, getting you off Rattatak, and then buying your armor, Braden spent all our credits. Which means we need to get Nem'ro the Hutt to sponsor you now more than ever, or we'll be stuck on this stupid planet while Tarro gets away," she revealed.

Valajin hummed, crossing his arms. "Braden was the one setting that up. You think we can still get this Hutt to meet me without him?" he asked.

"Well, no one knows Braden is… gone, right? Not yet," Mako replied. "It'll take every favor I have, but I should be able to get you in to see Nem'ro. After that, you'll have to make a big enough impression to convince him to sponsor you."

"That I can do," he said. "Making an impression is what I do best."

"Right," Mako replied, before she looked down. "And… I'll need the proof you collected for Vexx's bounty. It should be enough to pay for two burials," she said.

Valajin barely hesitated before walking over to pick up the ID tags from where he had dropped them. As he handed them to her, he said "I'd like to be there. I don't know them very well, but I still want to pay my respects."

Mako finally smiled a bit, but she shook her head. "I appreciate the thought, I really do, but there's no time. We have to get Nem'ro to sponsor you before he finds out what happened here. Braden would understand, and Jory would insist," she told him.

Valajin grimaced, but slowly nodded. "If you're sure…" he said, and when she nodded as well he said "Then I'll talk to you later," before hurrying out of the room.

Getting to Nem'ro's palace wasn't that hard. You simply had to look for the largest, most brightly lit building in Jiguuna. Given how important the cantina was to the spaceport–and how important the spaceport was to Nem'ro's business–his street gang kept the streets that lead directly between the three buildings free of anyone from Fa'athra's gang.

As he reached the front entrance, the palace towered overhead, a rounded cone flanked by two cylindrical towers. The entire thing appeared to be heavily fortified with thick metal walls–Valajjin wouldn't be surprised if some parts of those walls were concealing blaster turrets and/or shield generators. On the ground level, he saw that the entryway was actually wide open, allowing anyone to walk in or out of the place. However, three Gamreans guards stood on either side, each of them carrying a heavy blaster in addition to a handaxe or club, while a faint blue haze filled the air just inside the entryway. A force-field, probably a lethal one if Nem'ro needed to not let anyone in or out.

The Gamorreans didn't stop him as he walked through; apparently, he was expected. As he passed through the forcefield, he immediately became aware of another purpose it served: to keep the smell of Hutta out.

Valajin immediately took in a great lungful of air. Heavens above, it felt good to breathe in air that was clean. Not only that, but a look around showed that the surfaces of the palace were clean as well. No grime, dirt, blaster marks or bloodstains on the floor or any of the walls. The message was clear: the entire rest of the planet could be polluted into a hellscape, but those with Nem'ro's favor could spend their time here, in comfort.

He was already starting to not like this guy.

Inside the entrance, the hall split into two sloped paths that wrapped around a large pillar bearing the emblem of the Hutt Cartel. The walls on either side had several cameras, and where the paths rejoined was another force field with two more guards. But past that, the place finally opened into a large cantina.

The bar was located at the center and was being run by a human woman. Against the back all stage with a band made up of a Weequay strummer, some singing green-skinned humanoid woman he didn't know the species of, a tiny blue alien he had never seen with beady eyes and a trunk playing the keyboard, and three kloo players. They were currently playing a catchy tune that had half a dozen patrons and even one of the Gamorreans dancing on the floor in front of them.

Around the edge of the room were over a dozen different tables where people of all manner of species and dress were talking and drinking, as well as two nestled alcoves on either side for additional privacy. Several holorecordings of dancing Twi'leks hovered in the air, and two of the tables out on the floor were even hosting card games with protocol droids as the dealers. Everywhere Valajin looked, there everyone was wrapped up in some manner of either business or hedonism.

A Hutt's palace, indeed.

On the right of the band was a hallway that looked like it led further in, so Valajin ignored the bar in favor of that. A guard there held up their hand, and he stopped with a raised eyebrow. "There a problem?" he asked.

The guard, a tall Weequay with a datapad, said "No one gets further in unless they got business with Nem'ro or one of his lieutenants. Your name?"

He grunted. "Valajin, here to see Nem'ro personally," he answered.

The Weequay grunted and checked their pad. After a moment, they nodded. "Yep, I see you on the list. Go on through," he said, waving behind him.

Valajin resumed walking, and eventually the hall opened into what appeared to be a waiting area. A few chairs were scattered along the wall, and near the back was a desk. Seated at it and typing a way at a terminal was a green Twi'lek woman in a gold shirt. As he came closer, she looked up at him with a smile. "Hello there, handsome. Looking for something?" she said politely.

Handsome, huh? Although he was tempted to return the compliment–she was rather pretty herself–that wasn't what he was here for. "Who might you be?" he asked.

"I'm Juda, Nem'ro paymaster. You do any jobs for him, I'm the one that gives you payment," she told him. "If you're here to see him, it's through that door," she said, pointing to a door to his left that was thick, made of metal, and closed. "Just knock first."

Valajin looked at the door, then back to her. Mako had mentioned that they were strapped for cash, and if she had access to Nem'ro's money… "Can you give me a tour of Nem'ro's vault?" he asked innocently.

Juda giggled. "Nice try, but I don't actually access the money. I just sign and authorize the payment vouchers," she said. When Valajin snapped his fingers, she giggled again and added "I'd love to talk more, but I have to finish crunching these numbers. See you around."

"Be seeing you," he agreed, before stepping up to the door and hitting it with his fist three times. The moment he did, a section of the wall slid open and a small surveillance droid popped out, scanning him. After about half a minute, it retracted and the door parted in the middle, sliding open with a metallic groan. On the other side was the deepest room in the palace, Nem'ro's throne room.

Even in this room, clients with Nero's greatest favor were being entertained. Two humans sat at a table while a green-skinned woman in a skimpy dress danced in front of them–Valajin also noticed the shock collar on the back of her neck–while a human and a droid were engaged in a hushed conversation to his left. The center of the room was clear of tables, however, offering plenty of space to grovel before the Hutt himself.

Although this was the first Hutt that Valajin had seen, he nonetheless could see why they had the reputation that they did. Nem'ro was larger than a three-person speeder, almost large enough to not fit on the seat that appeared specially made for a slug like him. His yellow scaled skin appeared almost green in the room's light, and one of his reptilian eyes was red while the other was white with a scar running over it.

Two more girls in tiny dresses and shock collars, a human and a Twi'lek, were lounging in front of Nem'ro and boredly looked up as he came close. Standing to Nem'ro's right was some alien species with small eyes in a thick-ridged skull, massive forearms and muscle on top of muscle. Once he was a dozen paces away from Nem'ro, that one held up a hand for him to stop. "Look, boss. Tiny man comes to beg for your attention," he said smugly.

Valajin shot him an annoyed look. Whatever this guy was, he might have more pounds on him, but that hardly meant anything.

Nem'ro shook his head. "Be polite, Carnus. This is the fighter that has been sweeping the filth from my town's streets," he admonished in Huttese, before looking directly at Valajin. "Excuse his lack of manners. You stand in the court of Suudaa Nem'ro, ruler of all Jiguuna. Welcome, Bounty Hunter Valajin."

Although it grated on his pride, Valajin kept his expression neutral as he slowly bowed at the waist. Reminding himself that he needed to make a good impression, he added "I'm honored to be in your presence, great Nem'ro."

Nem'ro nodded. "Of course you are," he agreed. "Now, lovely little Mako already explained your situation, so I'll cut to the chase. You want to be sponsored for the Great Hunt. I can provide that… but why should I?"

That was a test, and an easy one. "Because I'm worth it. I'm the best hunter on this planet, and your best shot at sponsoring a winner," he proclaimed.

"So I'm told, yes. Mako says that you are a fearsome and renowned hunter, that veteran mercenaries run and hide the moment that they hear your name. But Mako says many things," Nem'ro replied.

Valajin raised an eyebrow. "Mako also said that you're a mighty Hutt. Was that a lie?" he asked.

Nem'ro snorted. "A good liar always sprinkles some truths amidst the fabrications," he countered, before rubbing his chin in thought. "But I also heard from one of my street captains about the assistance you gave in dealing with a traitor against me…" he thought aloud.

The Rattataki sent a mental thank you to Rex.

After a moment, Nem'ro came to a decision and nodded. "If you wish to prove that you truly are a hunter worthy of my sponsorship, I will give you a chance. There are three targets I have on this lovely planet, all of whom need to be eliminated. For one with your supposed skills, none of them should be an issue."

Valajin held back a smirk. Kill three people and he was in the Hutt's good books? It sounded almost too easy… so maybe it was. Either way, he could play ball for now. "They won't be," he said confidently. "Who's up first?"

"Your first target is an Evocii–the useless, sniveling natives of this planet. Long ago, they sold this world to us Hutts for trinkets, but now they take up arms against us. Disgusting," he said, shaking his head before giving Valajin a curious look. "I trust that the idea of dealing with primitive tribespeople doesn't bother you?"

He shrugged. "Even if it did, do you care?" he asked.

Nem'ro chuckled, smiling for the first time that meeting. "No, I don't. If you want into the Great Hunt, you'll do everything I say," he confirmed. "One particular Evocii has become a thorn in my side. He raids my holdings, hides among the other natives in the swamps, and even dares to call himself 'Huttsbane'. You will bring me his head and place it on my floor."

Well, it was a good thing he still had his knife, then. "Just his head, or the rest of him too?" he asked.

"His head only. Kill any of his followers as well, but leave their bodies in their village. It will serve as a message to any that might seek to follow in his footsteps," Nem'ro told him.

Then he waved a stubby hand towards the door. "Now go, and do not return until you have a head for me."