The Dark Academy on Korriban

Grenda’s room was bare like all the other rooms except there was a box sitting on her bed it was small and metallic. A simple little thing that dominated the space by simply existing.

OOC: Spending a Dark destiny for this.

The Rodian had been striding in with confidence, after having stowed all her survival gear back in it's proper places in her backpack. Seeing the metal box stopped her dead, one hand dropping to her blaster carbine by instinct alone.

"What do we have here?"

She examined the box without touching at first, looking for a logo or any other clue to whom had placed it here.

To the untrained Imperial eye it would look like scribble or alien script but to Grenda it was the unmistakable seal of Dojuro the Hutt, small time smuggler queen with a heart of acid… foul smelling bantha poodoo? Whatever is the opposite of aurum.

"Well isn't that nice. Dojuro sent me a present. Now is it the nice kind or the explode in the face kind?"

She dropped her gear in the corner and carefully poked the box with one suction cup tipped finger.

"Box go boom?"

The box did not go boom, it had a lid that looked to be easily opened.

"Work for a Hutt once, always work for the Hutt."

She laughed to herself and flipped open the box lid.

Inside was a communicator it looks modified but essentially a communicator with an aftermarket piece to piggyback standard lines and create a securish comm signal. There seems to be a stored message on it, due to the blinking light.

"Ah . . . I should have known. I wonder who she wants killed."

Making sure the room door was closed and as secure as it was allowed to be, Grenda picked up the communicator, checked the volume was set to low and keyed the play option for the saved message.

“Greetings sentient Grenda,” a droid voice responded in their usually upbeat tone.

“The immensely powerful Dojuro the Hutt wishes to commend you on a job well done on Dromund Kaas, but it seems there has been a minor issue. The mighty Dojuro requests that you track down a customer who has been late on their fees.”

The droid paused and then added, “Convince them that they should pay post haste and if not termination is acceptable though regrettable. With this Dojuro believes that your debt should be nearly absolved.”

“Your target is Ensign Hines,” an image is brought up on the holo communicator of a freckle faced red haired man in his mid twenties. “Dojuro was dismayed when he was redeployed to Korriban but now with your arrival she can get what she is owed. Thank you and have a nice day.”

The message ends.

"My debt was nearly 'absolved' the last six times . . . "

She stared at the holo of the target.

"Humans are so ugly . . . "

She turned off the communicator and buried it in the bottom of her survival kit. After a moments thought the box joined it there.

"Why do idiots always think they can stiff a Hutt? I guess I'd be out of work if they didn't."

She chortled to herself, a rather distressing sound to anyone not Rodian.