A Slimy Businessman

[Crotalus Viridis]

Admiral Viridis stood - or perhaps reared - hands clasped behind him, his lower half coiled beneath him for support. He could feel the vibrations through the sleek black deck of his Reliance as crewmen and technicians bustled behind him, preparing the battleship's cavernous landing bay to accept the arrival of it's distinguished guests.

The lenses in the Sluissi's eyes shifted, telescoping back and forth in an attempt to focus on the starfield before him, and pick out the shape of the shuttle as it meandered it's way from one ship to the other. He was told that members of other species could discern such things, but he could not: the Sluissi were evolved to see what was important, not to focus on distant objects of little importance or consequence. All he could discern was the bulbous, swollen hull of the vessel that had conveyed the Senators here from Bothawui: the Defiance, an MC90 Cruiser, the newest pride of the Mon Calamari Shipyards.

A forked tongue flitted out between his lips and teeth, tasting scent molecules from the air. If that ugly, graceless hulk was the pride of the Mon Calamari, he mused, their standards must be unforgivably low. Even the stark, unimaginative daggers of the Imperial Fleet bore a closer resemblance to beauty than Dac's latest astrospace monstrosity.

He let his eyes closed, sparing himself the discomfort of having to observe the Defiance any longer, instead letting the soothing chill of space looming beyond the magnetic field wash across the infrared pits on his cheek bones. He could feel the precious heat of the vessel flowing through the hull, and sensed through the rumbling deck the steadfast efforts of the ship to retain some semblance of warmth inside. That battle was far less decisive in the ship's favour than it would have been had this ship been of Sluissi design: but then, the efficiency of Sluissi heat exchangers was born out of necessity; warm blooded species were far less affected by the cold than reptiles like he. The Admiral saw it as a challenge, the creeping fatigue a contant test of his resolve.

His eyes opened as he felt a shift, the heat pattern of the magnetic field disrupted as something new and conductive pierced it. His vision focused on the Senator's shuttle; or rather their personal luxury yacht, as SoroSuub branded it; one of the 3000 series, if he were not mistaken. It said a lot about them - or perhaps merely a lot about the Alliance - that such concessions towards comfort were made for it's political leaders. Everyone was so keen to appear as if the Republic had been restored, lest anyone notice that the Alliance had given up on actually striving for that goal. Crotalus wondered if anyone was actually fooled by such tactics. Such a motley assortment they were: a Sullustan yacht ferrying mismatched Senators from a Mon Calamari cruiser to a Trade Federation battleship; all in the hopes of doing business with a Hutt because they had no other way to turn. This pretence of unity was an illusion; and a translucent one at that.

In the interests of convenience, the yacht rotated upon it's repulsorlift cushion before settling on the deck, a manoeuvre that the Reliance's bay was barely large enough to allow. Admiral Viridis slithered into motion as the aft hatch folded downwards, transforming into the ramp that would allow the Senators to disembark. The first was not one of them however; instead came a familiar face, far more hairless than most of the humans that he had encountered previously; fewer eyes, as well. His posture straightened, a token effort of respect towards what he suspected would be the only occupant of the shuttle who he felt deserved it.

"Admmiral Tyree," he offered in greeting, his Sluissi accent sticking on some of the consonants. "I trusst your trip wass -" His gaze strayed from his counterpart to his mode of transit for the briefest moment. "- not too arduouss?"

[Vansen Tyree]

Hopefully everyone on the shuttle assumed that his expedience to leave first was some archaic, backwards desire of the grizzled old soldier to take point and scout the area to ensure it was safe for his important passengers to disembark. In truth it was nothing nearly so noble; merely a desire to be out of that insufferable craft. The chairs on a starship had no business being so comfortable. The passenger compartment of a shuttle needed seats in nice, organised rows, with secure luggage storage and clear paths of egress; not a cluster of dining tables, irritatingly plush seats, and a scattering of discarded bags, bottles, and decorative items that he couldn't even name that would have transformed into utter chaos if they'd found themselves in a firefight.

Granted, the ride from Bothawui's surface into orbit had not been a brief even with the priority clearance granted to the Senators to expedite their journey, and yes, the new regulations that prevented a ship as large as the Defiance from moving close enough to Bothawui to get swept up in the capital's star traffic were entirely his own doing; but disgruntled hypocrisy was something he had spent several decades earning the right to, and he was damn well going to exploit an opportunity when it presented.

"No more so than the company," he replied, talking hold of the Sluissi's hand in a firm grip. His tone was measured and even, every bit as respectful as an Admiral should be towards the gaggle of politicians he was escorting, but the slight twitch of his eyebrow revealed the barely hidden subtext.

He took a step to the side, falling into position beside the Admiral rather than before him, watching as his fellow passengers began to file out of the yacht. "Sorry to place such a burden on your hospitality," he added, with a quiet, sidelong glance.

[Crotalus Viridis]

"I am a duutiful sservant of the Alliancce," Crotalus replied, careful practice ensuring that there was no audible hint of irony in those words.

He regarded the Admiral for a contemplative moment, wondering how many of the Senators would be able to shake hands with a Sluissi with the same absence of hesitation that Vansen Tyree had demonstrated. Perhaps it was some evolutionary impulse, inspiring reflexive fear in the minds of the mammals, given how effective the predatory reptiles on other worlds could be. Perhaps it was some latent, residual trace of the institutionalised racism that Emperor Palpatine had worked so hard to instil in every human citizen of his Empire. Perhaps the derogatory words were simply true, and the Sluissi really were the stuff of nightmares.

Whatever it was, and culturally uncomfortable as it might be, it was an advantage if one was so inclined to make it; and Crotalus was far too adept a strategist to let such a resource go to waste.

"Ssenatorss," he greeted, shifting his coiled lower half enough to grant a few extra inches of height, ostensibly to make him more visible, but in truth more to add an extra small degree of intimidation to his stature. "Wellcome aboard the Reliancce. I am Admiral Crotaluss Viridiss. Accomodatiionss havve been made for you on the Hosspitality Deck. Iff you would kindly colllect your belongingss and ffollow me, I will lead you to your conferencce room."

He hesitated for a moment, a brief glance cast towards his fellow Admiral, rather than the politicians.

"Your guesstss havve already arrivved."

[Tell Cho]

Once again, as he tramped from the shuttle to the deck of the former Trade Federation battleship, Tell Cho had to remind himself exactly why he was here. There were far more important things he could be doing elsewhere rather than silently and quite antisocially meditating amongst his many esteemed colleagues in the Senate.

Senator Tell Cho, of Ossus. He wished Ma Jun had learned enough Basic to take the job. But even though he was the most adroit and learned of the Gossam in exile in politics, Cho worried that he would backslide into less than savory dealings and modes of thought. Thus he was left in charge of the Gossam settlement of Mìwu Shanmà. And Cho himself, King of the Gossam (snort), was now King and Senator. At least until he trained up a suitable replacement, which couldn't be soon enough.

The human admiral was speaking to a Sluissi admiral, and both were staid, but also harboring feelings of annoyance and a rather common military feeling of being put upon (especially when dealing with politicians; this would change once the ambitious politicians of the next generation would don their own admiral and general's uniforms). The Sluissi rose and greeted them, which intimidated Cho not at all. He was used to being the smallest member of nearly any group. He spoke a few words in Gossam to his one attendant, a twenty-three year old whose name was Ju Long. The attendant took the Senator's luggage (two travel-sized wheeled bags with a week's worth of clothing and a single datapad) off to the side, and disappeared to find Cho's assigned room.

"When did they arrive?" he asked loudly enough to be heard, but not bothering to push to the front of the group of Senators in front of him.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

As Kirro dispensed with the considerable luggage, Senator Meorrrei filed out of the yacht alongside Senator Cho, her eyes already drawn to the queer creature that was their host. Already the grotesque tails were making themselves known, and promises of other unseemly alien appendages loomed even more grotesque on the horizon. At least the Sluissi were something of an honest and agreeable people, even if they were repulsive. The Hutts? They could live over a thousand years and not a single one of those thousand would be in any decency whatsoever. Disgusting by orders of magnitude both physically and in any valuation of integrity. Still, Taataani was nothing if not capable of playing nice, the feelings of disdain inside hidden deftly by an aloof, almost haughty demeanor. She'd chosen a blonde wig, trussed into an elegant bun with a navy blue dress that held just enough golden accents to match her hair. It was, in her estimation, a shrewd wardrobe that would accentuate her beauty without intimate warmth.

"The moment thejy decjided Alljiance crredjitss werre rreal enough forr thejirr ljikjing, jI'd asssume."

Taataani didn't make eye contact with the smaller Gossam, instead keeping her eyes fixed on the Sluissi Admiral as he glad-handed Vansen in that particular way that the military fraternity tended to handle these matters.

[Ulys Caed]

"You almost make it sound like we are so privileged to share their company."

Senator Caed of Naboo was possibly even less enthused by the prospects of this meeting than the Senator of Keppaa Brens. Normally a rival of Meorrrei, the elder statesman now found a strange bedfellow as they prepared to negotiate a most unsavory arrangement.

"Good enough for a Hutt. What a creative mindset. I'm sure our constituencies will be very pleased to know they have ascended to such a nation of prestige."

[Niev Minetii]

"It's prostitution. That's what it is."

Pushing through the Senatorial scrum in a decidedly polite and Senatorial way, Senator Niev Minetii didn't bother hiding his displeasure with Senator Meorrrei's aloofness or Senator Caed's polite disdain. His brow and jowls took gravity's sway to full effect, casting a dour countenance as he looked to Senator Cho.

"Prostitution with our government's blessing. We should all be ashamed we're even here giving this our precious time."

While the notion of joining forces with Taataani Meorrrei of all people was unsavory, Niev would much prefer the ruthless Cizerack as competition to the devious Hutts. An enemy you could rely on. An enemy who operated on rules.

Niev craned his squat neck to get a glimpse of Admiral Viridis and Admiral Tyree.

"We've invested so much in blood and iron to the Alliance, and now look at them. You can almost see them salivating for the chance to embrace the whore of Rothana."

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

"Be mindful of your tone, and your company," the Senator from Bothawui uttered as a low snarl, "When you speak about bloodshed and sacrifice in the name of the Alliance, Sullustan."

Torrsk Oruo'rel uttered the name of Minetii's species as if it were an insult, and it was. While the rhetoric that many Bothans died was a sentiment uttered by his people ad nauseum, Oruo'rel was no mere Bothan; no mere Senator. When the Galactic Civil War had raged, he had stood on it's front lines, a General of SpecForce, ordering good men and brave souls to their end on countless missions, in countless battles. The politicians and bureaucrats squabbled about what price should be paid for war: what cost of credits, discomfort, or morals the Alliance should be willing to expend in the pursuit of victory. They made such decisions without so much as having fought a battle, without so much as having spilt a drop to secure the status that the Alliance of Free Planets had gained. They were deluded, divorced from reality. Had they forgotten that even the mighty Galactic Republic - the Republic they had fought so long to restore - had made an ally of the Hutts during the Clone Wars? Had they forgotten that for all their legal and moral suspension, the Hutts endured, constant and nigh unchanging for thousands of years, while Republics and Sith Empires and Jedi Orders had been built and destroyed countless times? Who were they, Allies to Restore the Republic, to condemn a civilization that history had proven was far less fallible than their own?

"While you were off cowering in your warrens, and your Clusters, and your desks, all the while profiting from your military contracts with the Empire, some of us fought to build the high ground upon which you so unworthily stand."

His eyes narrowed, voice rumbling in his throat.

"And do not hide behind false sentiment. You know as well as I that it is your profit margins, and not your morals, that you are more concerned about compromising."

[Thada Adel]

"Now now Gentleman. Let us at least wait to hear the proposal before we fight among ourselves." Thada's voice was smooth and calm as she glided through the space between the Sullustan and Bothan Senators, looking each in the face as she passed. The blue and white dress she wore was made flow in water but even in absence it had a wavy beauty to it. Her moist skin glistened in the artificial lighting and caught the jewelry that adorned her neck and tentacles. Her single, more modest dressed attendant followed behind her carrying a bag and spray bottle. These starships were notoriously dry inside, and Thada had spent most of her entire life underwater in the dark depths of Dac. Her Mon Calamari companion seemed much more at ease in the air, but she tried to mask her discomfort. Thankfully the trip had been most accommodating. Mon Calamari cruisers hosted the necessary baths and moisture controls to keep one's skin from drying out, and the luxury cruiser had been a joy. Much different than what she was accustomed to back on Dac.

"We can't judge everyone at face value." She knew a thing or two about racial mistrust, and while the Hutts had a reputation for being sneaky, back handed, manipulative, and greedy slugs, similar things have been said about her own people. Sometimes you have to jump in and get wet before you judge the ocean. She was willing to give this... Ambassador Wrath the benefit of the doubt, although she much doubted the other senators would do the same. That is why she came to this meeting, not just because she represented a large interest group with Hoersch-Kessel Drive or because she wanted to make sure Tukphen did not swing something to his own people's advantage that left out the Quarren, but because she felt that was in a unique position to mediate this meeting. Her assumptions were already playing out with how little the other Senators felt about the Hutts already on display. It also made her self conscious about how they must feel about her and her people; the one time enemies of the Republic.

[Tell Cho]

Normally, Tell Cho would have agreed with Senator Adel, but instead he only snorted slightly, and stepped forward and faced the Admirals.

"I would like to see them before the talks begin," he said. "And not face to face. I trust the sensor packages you have within their and our accommodations are sufficiently layered?"

If they were really smart, they'd have layered their listening and viewing equipment. If all of them were extremely hard to find, it would be all right, but the Hutt would be suspicious there might have been one missed. Therefore, making some easily found would grant them an immediate reward and make them feel very clever next to their hosts, and the few more difficult ones would allay their suspicions about being listened in on. Then they would act more naturally while they were being listened to and watched. If he was to be denied the chance to see them make their entrance, then he would watch them in their rooms. Going in blind to a negotiation table would only draw things out most annoyingly.

[Ulys Caed]

Senator Caed was visibly disturbed by the assumptions made by the Ossus senator.

"Is that truly necessary?"

He looked from the Gossam to the Admirals, his frown deepening.

"Simply because we are negotiating with the Hutts, must we dispense with all pretense of ethics?"

Petty tradecraft was not his forte, and Ulys held the belief that fairness was not simply a feel-good platitude. It was an underpinning of democratic virtue. Spying might give an edge, but the costs to be paid for such a leverage disturbed him.

[Niev Minetii]

"Sentimental hogwash!"

Again, Minetii bullied forward, standing alongside the Gossam in a physical display of solidarity with the notion.

"This is a matter of state security. What we do here will have direct results on our ability to defend our borders."

The Sullustan cast his black glossy eyes at Torrsk Oruo'rel.

"I may not have been such a distinguished soldier as some in this room, but my planet has buried it's share of the dead, so why not employ Bothan diplomacy as it were?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"jI beljieve that home-fjield advantage jiss a concept jin Hutt-ball, ne?"

Senator Meorrrei canted her head towards the Gossam, agreeing with his approach to the matter.

"We not onljy losse jinforrmatjion that majy be usseful to uss jif we don't monjitorr them, but alsso jI doubt the Huttss would rresspect uss jif we decljined to do exactljy that."

It was a creative justification, but one that delighted Taataani to twist to her advantage. Not that she needed to justify it. She preferred to stack the deck in any negotiation before it ever began. Still, this conversation's constructiveness was fast becoming dubious, and the Cizerack Senator stepped towards the admirals.

"jI have fajith that Admjirral Vjirrjidjiss..."

She paused, a near-frown at how graceless the alien name sounded on the tongue.

"...hass taken everrjy prrudent prrecautjion well jin advance."

[Tukphen]

It was like herding catfish, or whatever it was that the land dwellers said. The import of this meeting was impossible to overstate: it was that fact alone that provided the strength to tolerate his fellow Senators and their repetitive bickering. He shared the Bothan's pain to some degree: while Tukphen had been far less a warrior than the former General had, his days with Support Services and Ordnance & Supply were a far cry from the experience he now endured. Yes, he was still responsible for sourcing the supplies that the Alliance vitally needed, but while the Galactic Civil War had made that an act of strategy, subterfuge, and resourcefulness, his hands were now bound by the shackles of legality and due process. Gone were the days when the Alliance's need for new starships could be satisfied via a strategic assault on a sufficiently vulnerable shipyard: now it meant corporations, copyrights, and other such obstacles. Worse was the company he was forced to keep: the war had surrounded him with Admirals and Generals, and while he had represented his people on the Advisory Council, politics had been a grim necessity. These Senators turned it into a bickering, bureaucratic burden. It was no wonder that nerves and patience so frequently wore thin.

He had found a strange ally however, in his counterpart from amongst the Quarren. The twin species of Dac had so often been at odds, but the Alliance of Free Worlds had provided them with common purpose. The Quarren strove only to be respected equals; and while equality would be a slow evolution, the Senator and her conduct had already made great strides in earning respect from at least one of the Mon Calamari. A formidable woman, that Thada Adel, the Senator silently mused.

"Rest assured," Tukphen said aloud, echoing the Sullustan's body language by stepping forward to stand alongside Adel, "I reviewed and approved the security measures myself, and they are more than sufficient to satisfy our needs."

His barbs continued to quiver as his jaw stopped moving for a silent moment. When he spoke again, there was a new force behind his words: less angry, and more the irresistible roar of the ocean, a demand to be listened to and heeded. "In fact, the Admiral has been nothing but accommodating, and deserves far more respect and gratitude than this infantile display shows. Perhaps you should be grateful that his security measures do not extend as far as here, so there is no way for your constituents to witness this unbecoming behaviour."