The Admiral - Bryce and Vaigo

Captain (retired) Hendon Brycemoor wasn't a superstitious man and he didn't believe in Destiny at all. Still it was hard not to take a cynical approach to his current predicament.
What were the odds of being hijacked by, what appeared to be thugs working for a Hutt, right on the same day he found himself the new proprietor of a lucrative gambling palace. Wasn't that what they'd called it? It was a 200 megaton remodelled personnel carrier, of sorts. No point-defense, only minimal shielding remained but much in the way of garish paint and lighting. Even on the outside of the hull itself. He ran a hand over the bald dome that used to be thick, black hair 20 something years ago. Before the war with the Sith. Proprietor was probably going a bit far anyway. It's not like he intended to run the flying cesspool. But he and his crew held the Pink Parlor, that was the name.
Bryce glanced out the tiny viewport next to him. The garishly painted carrier was dwindling fast as the fleet little transport made its way planet side with its unwilling passenger.
He looked to his captors, 3 Trandoshans and either the pilot was a human with a disastrously bad combination of looks and scars or he was some off-shoot species Bryce hadn't heard of.
"I don't suppose you would tell me where we're going or when we'll get there?" He addressed the question to the nearest Trandoshan who just looked right through him. Bryce pressed his lips together and leaned back in the seat. "Well" he thought. "Things could be worse, after all. They may not want to talk to you but they haven't tied you up. There's a message in that". He made himself comfortable, determined to not show these low-lives an inch less than the professional Navy Captain's face he'd carried for the past 12 years. Yeah his crew held the Pink Parlor alright, but apparently this planet held the ships future owner. And that was why the Parlor had been heading here with a skeleton crew and 3 outdated gunships as an escort to begin with. He wouldn't even have spared the lot of them a second glance if the trigger happy bumpkins hadn't mistaken the Pike for a threat. Unfortunate for said bumpkins the Pike may look old but her teeth are sharp and she's bristling with old Republic Navy veterans. Army veterans, Bryce mentally corrected himself. I'm the only Navy lad there. So they'd whipped about to face the threat of the gunships and followed through with a boarding mission once they were down – you don't leave an enemy behind you. They'd been discussing whether to just scuttle the old tincan or try to sell it when a small transport hailed them with a polite but insistent invitation to the commander of the Pink Parlor. He was to invited to meet with Vaigo the Hutt to discuss the terms for handing over the Parlor. The message hadn't ended with "or else" but Bryce sensed it was there anyway. And what else could he do? He'd led his men into this mess now he had to figure a way out of it, hopefully without any of them venting air. He folded his arms in front of his wiry frame and waited for the trip to be over.

Two hours later he was being led into a spacious office with an astounding view through a wrap-around window. The office jutted out from the top of the cliff face the complex was built on and offered the visitor a vista of lights and colours from the sprawling city of Tenn-Reyes. They were on the planet of Deysum not far out of Hutt Space and from what he could remember, Tenn-Reyes (Literally At-The-Wall) was a mining and trading town. Though from this height it seemed to have done quite well for itself in spite of its hard-scrabbled origins. Bryce didn't have much time to enjoy the view as his attention was naturally fixed on his host. A protocol droid had politely introduced the Hutt as Vaigo, obliquely stressing the male pronoun. Bryce had never heard of him but as a Captain in the Republic Navy one didn't have to stay abreast of who was who in Hutt Space. All he could say was that this was a sleek almost lean looking Hutt even though the creature probably weighed close to a ton. It sported a cyan and brown mottled skin in undulating colour swathes giving it an almost maritime appearance. But the eyes that fastened on Bryce's stony countenance carried the most shrewd and calculating gaze he'd ever faced.

"I wish to make a trade with you, Brycemoor No-Longer-Captain of the Republic." Bryce understood and spoke Huttese. It was something all his siblings had been taught. Title or no title every man and woman needed to have the tools of communication first before deciding how to make his living. Those were words his Father had often spoken and Huttese was the second most spoken language in the Galaxy. But this Hutt's dialect was strange. Slurred and warbling it took him a few heartbeats to grasp the full sentence. The creature knew he'd was retired from the Navy. Did he know it wasn't voluntary? Before Bryce could chase down that thought the creature continued:
"Your Pazaak Palace for an asteroid mining and refuelling station located in the Hebine Ring of the Beheboth system." Bryce's eyebrows shot up in surprise, he couldn't help it. "You are proposing to trade me and Asteroid station for a pot-bellied gambling ship?". Vaigo studied him for a moment. Yellow eyes very still in the wide florid face. He appeared to reach a decision then and for a fleeting moment Bryce wondered if he'd just signed his own doom. Instead he watched as Vaigo flipped open a panel inlaid in the edge of the desk. He made no effort to hide his movements and from that angle Bryce could easily make out the labels on the wide buttons. Vaigo was engaging anti-surveillance systems effectively rendering the office un-buggable. "And he is making sure I see him doing it: A ruse maybe?" Bryce knew he was out of his depth here. Give him a space battle any time not these smoky rooms and under handed dealings. He was getting a headache.
  
"Captain Brycemoor, please relax. I assure you if you were more valuable to me dead you would no longer be breathing." Bryce realized the Hutt had been watching him and all but reading every thought he was having. How did a Hutt get so well-versed in human facial expressions and body language anyway? The Hutt tilted its great head to the side in what appeared to pass for a crooked smile. "Help yourself to a drink." A languid digit flipped to a long row of cupboards behind the massive chaiselongue supporting the Hutts weight. "If you don't mind serving yourself that is. I would prefer to have this talk with you in private." Bryce realized that Vaigo had dropped the heavy slurred accent and was speaking a very clear and easily comprehensible Huttese. It was important to the Hutt then that he, Bryce, understood it's meaning. So this wasn't just a strange form of shakedown or ripoff. And what was up with giving him a station? He shook himself. If a Hutt could be polite then he, a son of the house of Brycemoor could do no less. He presented the Hutt with a small perfunctory bow and a smile. "I don't mind if I do. It has been quite a long few days". Vaigo rumbled with good willed humor and Bryce threw a quizzical look at his glass. "Dunai Double. I take it with crushed ice" Bryce nodded and poured his host the anise flavoured liquor and himself a generous glass of Old Glenwhinney. "I take it," he said as he returned with the drinks, "that there is more to this deal than a simply tit for tat?". Vaigo sniffed his drink appreciatively and set it down on the coaster in front of him. It struck Bryce how organized and tidy this office was, for a Hutts place of work. Maybe he didn't know all there was to know about this species but he'd never heard any of them described as fastidious or neat. And judging by the screens and communications outlets embedded in Vaigo's end of the desk this was definitely a place of work for someone who could afford the latest generation of holo transmitters. Bryce decided to keep his glass in hand rather than risk a condensation ring. He knew he was rattled then if he was worrying about mussing up the nice Hutts office decor. He took a swig of the amber liquid to cover his dismay. The Hutt seemed to take a long time in answering but finally rumbled an affirmative.

"I want you to run that station, Captain. You, not the Republic, not the Hutts and not the Sith." Another silence followed as Vaigo's rumbling voice dissipated from the room. Bryce gave up trying to think his way ahead of this bizarre conversation. "Why is that? You must know I'd never agree to work for you."The Hutt nodded, his face serious. Or at least Bryce thought it was. "My information tells me that you would never work for the Hutts or for any other organization you perceive as criminal or underhanded, is that correct?" Bryce nodded brusquely once. "I am also convinced that you would rather die than be forced under the yoke of the Sith". He made that a statement but Bryce opened his mouth to answer. Vaigo wave an arm to cut him off. "Dramatically put perhaps but true none the less. What I'm counting and what I would need your assurances on is whether you would re-enter the service of the Republic after your dismissal following the battle of Utapau?" Bryce stiffened. It had not been made a part of the official aftermath which was why the Navy had been able to offer him forced retirement rather than a dishonorable discharge. So how did this petty little crime lordling know. Bryce felt his nostrils flare in fury and had to fight his temper down.
"You refused to scuttle the Teagynn facility before it had been evacuated. You disobeyed a direct order that led to the loss and capture of a minor and insignificant shipyard when you wouldn't fire into 28.000 unprotected civilians because of an emergency plan that hadn't been updated in years." Bryce's face went rigid as the Hutt laid out the worst day of his life before him with brutal simplicity. "And then they fired you because your CO was better connected than your esteemed father and they needed someone to pin the whole mess on. Tell me, Captain Brycemoor." Vaigo intentionally emphasized the title making it sound like a whip crack across Bryce's soul. "If I were to offer you your old job in the Navy back would you take it over a space station of your own on the Outer Rim?". Bryce stared at the Hutt who leaned back and cocked his head. "Yes I could do that. It would even cost me less than setting you up in the Hebine Ring." Vaigos allowed a smirk to cross his features. Bryce was reeling. He could go back. Be a Captain again maybe even on the Thunderhawk, as if nothing had ever happened as if Utapau hadn't been. He turned to the window and even from up here he could pick out the many different garbs of a mixed trading city. Twi'lek's in fluttering bright clothes, miners with heavy protective headgear, spice merchants with rounded red hats. It had been like that on Teagynn. More soldiers and army brats than spice merchants. Lots of booze vendors and women of all sizes, colours and races. Yard dogs, greasy cooks, street gamblers. Utapau had happened and he knew, given the same situation he'd make the same choice. Hearing that the Hutts could buy this information from what had been HIS Navy just underscored how betrayed he felt. No he wasn't going back. He didn't want to go back.
He turned back to Vaigos. "Tell me about this station.".