The Food Chain

[Marz Reno]

Marz sat behind his wooden desk, pondering.
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Yes, wooden; the luxury of a marble chrome matted desk that’s large enough to dance on with a party of twenty can’t be afforded to the lowly. He’d been deprived of that and many other commodities before. And of course, there was always one person to rake in his blame; one soul that made Marz’ life difficult. His name was Vick Malcrum. The head honcho of honchos of Neuro-Saav Corp, also known as the fairy princess. Because this man existed, there would be no rest for Marz Reno. Vick had routed him again and again on the road to the top. It was in his decision to pre sell units of a new prototype electrobinocular to TaggeCo that won the favor of Gill Raak’ti, the former Omwati president. The dirty little secret was: without Marz the company could and would not function. The only reason industries continued to invest in and buy products from Neuro-Saav was Marz’ established marketing structure. He was responsible for prolonging those relationships. No one would own up to the fact that it was Marz Reno who was responsible for Saav’s “third age of success,” even though Vick blatantly took credit for it.

Ironically, before Gill’s passing there was a restructuring of the hierarchy like some corny equation, outputting Vick as proclaimed king. The whole sequence was laid out like some bad flick. Ever since then, work became an unholy mess. Vick was no straight arrow; he was just as crooked as Marz, if not more. He was sure Vick had toppled a surefire amount of guys to be president, but Marz would outdo him. The situation was as follows: Marz was under constant surveillance, for Vick knew if anyone wanted his insides on a stick it was <st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Reno</st1></st1:city>. The board didn't take too lightly to his ideas like they used to. There was some business with his income too; not that Marz wasn’t making enough money, but screwing with another guy’s paycheck is ballsy. He was no longer able to solo advertising transits, his work had to be divvied among two other individuals whom he despised, followed by a consultation from a team of dweeb analysts. Simply put; the grass could be greener.
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His mind kept going back to all the people he had to trample to get to where he was now. Were they innocent? Maybe. Was it for a good cause? Yeah. Some were stabbed. Some were flogged, gagged, torched. It was all priceless nonetheless. Of course he had no physical hand in any of that business. Marz was clean as far as jobs went. He had Z’blythe to see to such ordeals.

[Marz Reno]

Z’blythe was a Noghri that Marz’ connections in the Outer Rim had pointed him to. Marz had adoration for the professionally savage, and Z’blythes reputation and looks fit the bill. He was short but broad in stature. A dark maroon cloak always draped him, covering his grey reptilian features. Beneath he seemed to be wrapped in some type of bandaged body armor. He was efficient too. Groups of people had been done in by his bare but clawed hands. Where goon after goon failed, Z’blythe had succeeded. He’d been onboard for almost 2 years now. Marz was fond of him. It’d be a sad day to see him killed in action. Marz had him staked outside his office everyday as insurance; people these days were crazy. He accompanied him almost everywhere. As long as he had the funds, he figured Z’blythe would be loyal to the bitter end. It was against company policy to have anything like a personal guard lest you be Vick Malcrum himself. However, when you’re Marz Reno anything can be arranged.

[Marz Reno]

Upon reading his calendar for the day on his holoscreen it struck him; a 24/1 meeting in approximately 20 minutes. They call it the 24/1 because its composed of 24 board members to one fairy princess, a lecture assessment on current standings within the company and in the galactic economy. It’s basically a fill on the progress of all the branches, sectors, and divisions for Vick's fat ears. Marz turned to the slanted mirror on his desk and began to press his hair back against his intensely pale skin. He was balding and he knew it. Maybe he’d spend some of Malcrum’s money on synthetic implants. He mouthed “smite the princess” in the mirror while straightening his checkered tie. His dimples formed a sick grin across his face, the grin Marz was notorious for. Today he was wearing a purple pinstripe suit, which he brushed off as he got up from his trinket of a desk. Next to it was a twisted coat hangar, with an assortment of hats hanging every which way. He grabbed his purple top hat, heading for the door. All the thoughts of sick revenge he kept trying to filter from his mind made him forget something. Then he remembered:
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Mah stick!
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He grabbed his most trusted cane from behind his desk and left the room to meet his fellow hitman outside.
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Z’blythe was standing to the left of the door with his arms crossed looking as mean as ever. Marz jumped slightly at the thick shadow, he always did. It didn’t matter if you were his master or his victim, Z’blythe was intimidating. He passed his key card over the wall sensor to seal the door.
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“Stay here and watch this pal. I’ve got a 24/1 to see to. No one goes in or out till I return.”
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Z’blythe gave a very guttural acknowledgement.
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“We’ve got things to talk about when I get back.”

[Marz Reno]

Marz pushed the doors to the meeting hall open with his cane. It was 5 till and roughly twenty of the twenty four were present. Vick’s chair was vacant. The crimson table was so long that if you seated yourself at one end, it was impossible to make visual contact with anyone at the opposite end. Marz was never able to quite comprehend it. Most of the members were human or of humanoid descent: Cerean, Teevan, and Sakiyan, except two Sy Mirthians and a Khommite. Then there was Vick. He was as human and vain as they came. Of the entire board only three were female. Shame.

Shaul Nuulbar was the first to greet Marz upon entry. He shook the man’s hand even though he really didn’t feel like it. Marz initiated the standard small talk anyway.
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“Hows the wife and kids?”
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“Hm? Marz..you know I’ve been separated for quite some time!”
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“Yeah you would.”
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Shaul seemed to be offended by his remark as Marz kept walking. These people….they went through the motions as if they didn’t know what was coming. Marz was about to put the big sleep on all of them. Not all, but the majority that constituted to Malcrum's reign. He left Shaul in his stunned state and moved on to the Sy Myrthian, Unthrux. He removed his hat and bowed as always and Unthrux returned the gesture. Two more men entered the room, Don Kalmunth and Shiylth Yuln. They were in deep with Vick. It was usually a sign that the president wasn’t far behind. Next was Kaelyn Amara. He put his lips to her hand and she exerted a look of repulsion as usual. He adored that look, her expression made his day every time. Finally he was able to move on and take his seat between Don and his blue friend Keil Prelner, a rather interesting Sakiyan. Keil was a good guy. He was one of the few that saw the virtues Vick didn’t possess. There was light at the end of the tunnel for this blue man. Keil greeted him.
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“How are you sirs?”
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“Ehhh just swell Keil. Any idea whats on the menu for today?”
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“Yeah the dev departments supposed to have some new product to unveil; should be exciting.”
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“I should hope so for my sake. You know boredom and I don’t get along.”
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Marz sent a nod towards the gentlemen sitting across from him. They all looked like drones; stereotypical fat heads in their black suits. Of course there was Unthrux in his ceremonial Myrthian garb that no one seemed to understand. And then there was Marz in his purple pastel pinstriped suit and matching hat. He could tell that they thought he was trying to make some statement, when in reality he was just adding to his already abnormal persona of being pale. Why not?

[Marz Reno]

Malcrum entered six minutes later, as to be expected. He wasn't exactly a punctual individual. Vick was of average height, but he looked like something out of a fashion ad. It appeared as if he spent five hours preparing his glossy hair for lift-off everytime you came across him. This man was a primper, unlike Marz whose hats usually did all the work for him.

"Gooood morning Neuro Saav," he let out across the room as he sat down in his embroidered leather chair at the head of the table. With him was a new guy, someone Marz couldn't quite place. He filled the last vacant chair on Vick's end.


"How are we doing ladies and gents?"


There was a general mumble amongst the group. Nuulbar turned and spoke loudly to Vick from the other end.

"I'd be doing better if you'd be as so kind to get those tier operations back to me."

"I'm still waiting on an approval for a contract. I know there can't be a rebid until they're accepted. We'll get them soon enough."

The former Tagge employee looked uneasy in his chair. He'd only been on the board for a month now. Marz figured that was why he was so damn imbecile. Keil stood up and presented Vick with the first topic of discussion.

"Everything seems to be fine in our Project Management Offices. The infrastructure is holding up fairly well, with two new hirees to oversee the Enterprise Support Division."

"Qualified I take it?"

"More than qualified. They've got extensive training in the field sir."

Bleh don't address him as sir moron, Marz thought to himself.

"Are they prepared to fix that problem we've had with the backed up catalogue?"

"Yes Mr. Malcrum."

"Good, that's all I wana hear."

Velmuth Wagner, the head of the dev department stood up next with a data board in his hand.

"Continuing on last month's 24/1, I would like to bring to your attention the latest device that our friends in BioLab have been rigorously working on to produce something before next quarter."

He pushed something on the data board which brought up an image on the large holoscreen at the end of the room. All heads turned. Rotating slowly on the screen was an image of what seemed to be eyewear that strapped over the head. Possibly another electrobinocular variant. Wagner resumed his segment.

"This is the Stygnis SeeAll. An ever changing, ever evolving solution to previous forms of perscription eyeware designed for the visually impaired. The rails go over the head to nodes behind the ears, which uses acut sensory waves to determine the level of impairment in an individual's optics. From there the Stygnis will auto adjust to the user, allowing them to see as if they had no ocular problem at all. We're projecting it will serve best in a market for the elderly. We thought this would be a great way to give back to the ones that taught us so much."

holy god...

He added that last part in with a smidge of glee. There was some applause and hollering from various members around the table.

..elderly...what do they teach us but how to die..heh

Marz chuckled to himself. He caught a few looks, but he didn't care. It was a useless product, but hey, if it made them money who cared. Raw funds drove this business and nothing else. If only the consumer knew how corrupt this line of work truely was.

[Marz Reno]

When it came Marz' turn to talk, there wasn't much to deliver. All his advertising brackets were old and stale. He hadn't conjured a new contract in quite a while, simply because he didn't want to. In good time, Marz would have no one to answer to. There was always a habitual aversion of Vick's eyes to his too. Those moments were awkward, but sweet vengeance would be his soon. Marz wouldn't have to deal with it. He'd make sure they all knew that only one person had the last laugh in this organization.

His thoughts kept going back to the new guy.

Who is he? Has Vick found out?

The distortion made his head hurt so he let it go for the time being.

The meeting was almost two hours of straight bantering. It was good for these people though; each part of Neuro-Saav needed to know what the other parts were up to. Kaelyn concluded the meeting with a brief summary on our standing and divestments in the Mid Rim.

When dragging congregations like this one ended, they always felt good. Marz took in a sweet breath of air; the kind one takes when he knows victory is just around the corner.

"I'll see ya round Keil."

"Good day Marz."

He gave farewells to several others in the room, for it would be the last time he ever saw them. Marz wanted to feel sad on that notion, but they were all fools deserving of a rather satiated payback. He grabbed his cane resting on his chair and headed back to his office.

[Marz Reno]

This particular Neuro-Saav headquarters was located in none other than infamous Coruscant itself. It was in sector T-06 next to an old droid works facility. There were three other main facilities spread across the galaxy that he had to make routine trips to. This was probably Marz' favorite, however he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was because most of his time was spent here. Each facility was extremely high class. The furnishings weren't cheap, and there was a hefty crew to keep it in shape. Some might think it was a museum instead of an office lot. The view from most of the locations in the building was pretty crumy, unless you were several floors up with Malcrum. He always had it good. Nothing could really be seen out the windows because the facility was surrounded by mirk black walls of other buildings or steel pires that reached towards the sky. There was the occasional speeder but even those were rare.

Marz noticed a nasty looking fauna on one of the massive windows on his way back to the office. Some Neuro-Saav employee would probably report it to auxillary services. They'd call pest control. Pest control would send someone out to terminate it instantly. Hopeless. Meaningless. That's exactly what he wanted Vick to feel when the time was right.

Marz could see Z'blythe at the far end of the hall. It appeared as if he hadn't budged in the slightest. Things looked exactly as they were when he left. Marz wasn't surprised.

"How were the dronezz," he asked in a deep slurr.

"Huh? Oh..they never fail to dissapoint."

He unlocked the the door with his keycard. He motioned for the Noghri to come inside.

"Here, come in Z'blythe lets talk."

[Marz Reno]

Marz closed the door to his office briskly behind them. Z'blythe was ushered to sit at the finely crafted table beside Marz' desk. He took the hood off from his head, revealing his scalesworn face. His eyes were stark black, completely void of any sensory feelings. It was impossible to tell if he was gleeful or turbulent. Marz wished he could play poker with that face.

"There seems to be a stitch in our plans dear friend. I'm not exactly worried, but it's semi troubling. This operation is to be immaculate, we can't have a single flaw as I've stated time and time again."

"Whatz the praablem?"

"Malcrum has a new attendee, one that I've never seen before. I could pull some intel on him but I'm not likely to obtain it until its too late. The worst part is we don't know who he is or what he's capable of."

Marz' face was flustered. He spun his cane like a warped dradle with great agitation. Z'blythe sat like he always did; silent, awaiting an order.

"You know that I wan't more than anything for this to go over smoothly. All the right people have been paid off. All that's left is to cure Malcrum and his diseased disciples. However...I HATE UNKNOWN VARIABLES!"

He mashed his left fist into the desk.

ow...

The Noghri remained still yet.

"I ALSO hate going ahead when the plans not absolutely clear...but we have no other choice. The wheel is in motion. We can't jam the spokes now. I think...we're gonna need another man in on this, to be one hundred percent certain everything is completely smooth. I figure the classifieds are always teaming with mercs for hire these days. An extra frontman will compensate for whatever edge Vick may present to us."

He thought this might evoke a look of offense from the assasin....nope, he was wrong.

"Well...if there's to be no objection you can start searching. I assume you know where to look; you've traveled in those circles before. Find someone with precision that we can trust."

[Nyloh Heat]

Nyloh splashed water into his face as he stared into his eyes in the mirror. He cupped his hands and caught more water and splashed his face again. Job interviews, and ones you have to wear suits to, were not really Nyloh's cup of tea. But Z'blythe had said the money was definitely worth it. The game was cushiony though and Heat was almost turned off by the very notion of that. But the methods had to be complex, Z'blythe said he could even vouch for the hunt.

The thrill of the hunt. Nyloh felt that shiver down his spine, that adrenaline dump at even the thought of it. Fight or flight is what they called it, an instinctive reaction that all living things could relate to, even some plants. Nyloh lived for that simple concept. Tie that in with the hunt itself and one could almost say he was addicted. Blame the nights alone in the Wilds of Iziz, running from and after the Mandalorians, who fought like ghosts and were seemingly no less feral than the other beasts. Nyloh wouldn't lie, he'd been no different there, in the heart of that darkness.

And Z'blythe, a fellow hunter, had come to this playing field? The Noghri had said the hunt was still there, just different rules, but could Heat really believe that. Nyloh had worked for the Imperials, the Inquisitoriate even, but they sent him out to the Outer Rim and then some. And he'd come back without an arm for that as well. Force adepts were quite the choice of game and those two in the forest and that fight... Nyloh wasn't sure if those were dreams or nightmares he still had of that night. More sure than not, it had been the most singly painful experience in the shortest span of time he'd ever survived through.

Heat splashed his face again and looked back into his eyes. One was off color from the other. It was a replacement. Heat hadn't wanted a fake eye, cybernetic or not, and had an organic eye replace what was left of the original. Heat had to have been awake for that. Another unpleasant memory.

"Praablem, Heaatah?"

"No."

Nyloh let the water drip off his face for a moment longer and then he grabbed a towel and checked the chronometer on his wrist. They had plenty of time and then some. Heat dryed his face off and stretched. He tightened the collar and pulled the hooks of the vest together and slipped on his jacket. His sword hung from his hip, resting in the ceremonial scabbard of a Guardsman of Iziz, so it appeared to be more for show than anything else. Heat wanted it that way, but the truth was that he felt like a beast without teeth or fangs without a weapon, much less his sword. The sword in the gaudy scabbard was very real though and Heat's confidence in that was comforting enough.

"Lead the way..."

And the Noghri did. All the way to a reception room where Nyloh took a seat in a sofa that was almost so comfortable that it wasn't. The woman sitting at the desk across the room told them both that Mr. Reno was busy with a conference call and would notify them when he was ready to see them. Nyloh almost began to wonder about his employer, the degrees upon which this might get under Heat's skin, and even then, if Nyloh was even cut out for this corporate dren.

[Marz Reno]

"I told you once before...if you want to retain 82% efficiency and continue to hang with the market balance, YOU'RE GOING TO NEED TO EXECUTE THAT CONTRACT!"

Marz was hunched over the com built into his desk. If it were a person he'd be invading its personal space.

But sir...the Taloum database been compromised by Mr. Malcrum..he

He leaned forward even more.

"I DON'T CARE! AS YOUR PROJECT ORGANIZER I ORDER YOU TO DO IT!"

The whites of his teeth could be seen from a mile away right now. Marz wasn't being very professional and he knew it, but sometimes certain individuals needed incentives to work.

"Look...I need you to bring that layer to function, it'll do the company well and you know it."

..yessir

"Might I add, if I don't see results in one weeks time, I'll have you buried beneath four tons of your coworkers feces."

The link was severed with the push of a button; a mash rather. He fixed his posture, slightly adjusting the black flower in his breast pocket. Two consecutive meetings in the Ops division awaited him in less than an hours time. They'd been pressing on his mind all day, for he had to present rather dissapointing statistics on revenue in open trade with a sister company. Mainly because they were individuals he didn't quite fancy.

Marz noticed the white light blinking on his holo screen from Lilith, a most appreciated secretary. A white light indicated a code between Lilith and himself; one involving his grey skinned friend. Then he remembered: Z'blythe was bringing in a third applicant today. The first two he was most displeased with, and he believed his disgust encouraged the Noghri to not scew up thrice. He once more placed his hat on his head and opened a link with Lilith.

"Lilith dear, would you be as so kind as to buzz in my fellow guests."

[Nyloh Heat]

"Lilith dear, would you be so kind as to buzz in my fellow guests?"

"Right away, Sir."

She had an accent Heat couldn't place, nor did he want to. It was annoying, like the noise a chew toy made when the dog bit down on it. He didn't know what to make of the voice on the other end of the com channel though.

"Go right in boys."

He supposed he would find out soon enough. He stood and followed the cloaked Noghri into the room. Z'blythe moved to the corner of the desk and gave a bow from the chest in respect to his employer and then gestured a hand towards Heat in introduction. His other hand held out a datapad, Heat's resume, for his employer's liberty to review.

The man behind the large obsidian desk was nothing Heat could've been prepared for. The man was... human? A pasty white complexion, blood red lips, and a smile that looked like a slasher's left overs. Aliens didn't bother Heat, he'd seen some of the ugliest, but it was the contortion of appearance and the likeness this being had to a human and then something else that Nyloh couldn't place. He wasn't sure he wanted to. Heat's line of thought concerning what else he could find a likeness to in this man was like standing at the corner, and not looking around it because you know the fiend is standing on the other side, but given the option, one would never take it.

Regardless, Heat made the least amount of movement necessary to bow in accordance to a first acquaintance before resuming his stance.

"Nyloh Heat, a proffesional personnel manager at your service."

[Marz Reno]

Z'blythe ushered in the leather clad applicant.

"Personnel manager eh? I like your style! The name's Marz. I'm the head of a major project management division here at Neuro-Saav. I should hope the little miss outside didn't make you wait too long."

His grin turned crooked with glee. Marz took the holopad from the Noghri and motioned for him to wait outside. He extended his hand naturally to Nyloh and he returned the gesture. However the young mans grip caught his attention. It was a killers brace. There was dead weight in that arm. Many had fallen to it. What else did this lad have to show...

"Lets see here...prior experience, uh huh...check, presentation mhmm, acquired skills uh huh check...well..."

His eyes shifted to the cieling, then back to Nyloh as he tossed the pad over his shoulder. He placed his hands evenly on the desk and leaned forward.

"Lets shred the candy coating shall we? I'll save us some breath and time for I'm on a tight schedule this afternoon. I assume you know why you're here. My assistant only contacts the most..talented invdividuals, so to speak..however disgruntled they may be. Now I need to know good and well right now, how serious at 'managing' personnel are you?"

[Nyloh Heat]

"I run a very impersonal profession, Sir. In a manner of speaking, they never know they've been terminated until its already over. I'm not one for bureaucracy or wasting company time. All I need is a list of personnel, your preferred method of how it should be handled, and I'll get to work, Sir. If there are any specific details, I'll need those as soon as possible, Sir, so that I can make sure they are heeded in all aspects."

How does one go from a scout in the small army of Iziz on Onderon to a proffesional killer exactly? The datapad lying on the floor behind this killer clown from the Abyss was the manual on it.

[Marz Reno]

Marz tapped his fingers together.

"Hmm...sounds fair enough..."

In truth he was still pondering. Could such an important task be handed to this man? Of course Z'blythe had brought him in which in turn gave Nyloh some respect, but then again his predecessors weren't exactly bright. He was starting to have second thoughts. Maybe merc help wasn't the best idea. A screw up here would cost him everything. He was running out of options.

"They say good things come in threes, or atleast someone I knew said that before he was gutted."

He took a deep breath with a rather nauseated expression.

"Here are the details: There is to be an internal restructing of Neuro-Saav, but this cannot be accomplished without the required termination of one individual. Now, feel free to divulge in any input on the matter. This room is free of surveillance; one of the perks of knowing people who know people that I've put down. However, herein lies the dilemma: the required terminant is also free of survielance, so theres no way I can guaruntee how many individuals he may have posed as security. He may have an army up there waiting for you, I can't say. I also have reason to believe that this individual has been suspecting an act of this nature for quite some time, thus strenghtening the aforementioned point. I can get you blueprints of the floor layout. My associate was to be offered as aid but if you prefer to work alone, I understand. It needs to be clean, no bloodbath. There is to be no trace or correlation between me and the terminant. And as all ways, the pay will be more than you can handle. Those are my requests, if you have any for me please make them now."

He kept thinking that maybe he'd condemned himself. Maybe everything would fall apart. Entrusting everything to this street assassin. Then again, the profit far outweighed the loss. Overlord of the industrial market versus prison? Maybe death? Only the criminally insane could pass that up. He thought to himself.

Hm..I always win...

Marz had traveled this road many times before, he knew what was coming to him. He awaited input from his obedient new friend.

"Well? What say you?"

[Nyloh Heat]

Nyloh didn't even have to think about.

"I only also need to know the degree of technological security, if available, a profile on the individual in question, and a time frame. And I work alone."

The Noghri was a valued warrior but still something Nyloh refused to depend upon in any factor of his job. Other people had failed Nyloh too often, and it was just that much easier to start a job knowing it was going to be rough rather than finding out half way through because something or someone fell through.

[Marz Reno]

Marz' left brow furrowed.

"Security is tight, as you might expect. The primary and only entrance is a level 7 bay, our highest security decree. This entails a retinae scanner, automated defenses, masscomm alert, etc. I suggest you find another means to entry."

The doubts were slowly but surely creeping back in, and so was his agenda. He hitched his arm to reveal a pristine Zodiac watch worth more than several minor planets.

Oh how there's never enough time in the capitalist machine.

"Ill have Z'blythe prep you with the aforementioned information, along with visual identification of the terminant. The task is to be carried out within one week. How you choose to spend that week is entirely up to you. I'm sure you'll find no fault in the procedure. It's been a pleasure."

He extended his hand to Nyloh.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to feed the corporate pigs their sludge"

[Nyloh Heat]

"By all means then."

He met the twisted man's hand with his, shook it, and released, grateful that the arm was a fake. If it had still been the original, he felt he almost would've needed to amputate the limb to get that slick feeling that came with looking at this man's smile. Heat didn't have a problem working for him, that wasn't it at all. It was just that smile and this man who planned out people's deaths from behind a desk and never got to feel the blood run through his fingers. Maybe thats why he was the guy paying the big bucks.

Nyloh turned and walked to the door, and right as it opened he turned on his heel to add his final word.

"Three days, no more."