Yorvi the Hutt and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
Yorvi the Hutt didn't have many pleasures in life. He had set up shop so many years ago based on one thing only, which planets in Hutt space were not already occupied by a Hutt. By searching for his domain in such a way, a young Yorvi had hoped to establish a monopoly, becoming feared and respected as the only local representation of the Hutts. Using the respect such a position would get him, Yorvi would live in a great palace, attended by beautiful slaves, and dine only on the finest Ubuuga caviar. And so, full of hopes and dreams, he had set off for the planet of Riileb.
Unfortunately for Yorvi, there was a very good reason that there were no other Hutts on Riileb. As it turned out, the natives had put up a fight when the Hutts first found Riileb, and Yorvi's ancestors had passed them over for easier prey. As a result, Riileb had never actually been conquered, and was only a part of Hutt Space because everything
around Riileb was Hutt Space. Meaning all the gravitas Yorvi was meant to have a Hutt had no weight whatsoever.
To make matters worse, the climate of Riileb was miserable. Hot and muggy, Yorvi often doubted he'd be comfortable even if he did have a luxurious palace. Which he didn't, because making money was downright impossible on Riileb. The planet had plenty of rare commodities to be shipped offworld, but nobody gave a rat's ass about Riileb, so nobody knew that they wanted these rare commodities.
Still, Yorvi had managed to keep something approximating trade alive out of sheer force of will. Calling in traders to deliver offworld goods was simple, since even if no one in the galaxy had ever heard of "Yorvi", the title of "the Hutt" got people flocking to serve him. As it should. And once they got to the backwater nowhere that was Riileb, they needed something to put on their ships for the trip back. And many were surprised to find Yorvi the Hutt with an abundance of heklu, whose meat went for a pretty penny in the Core Worlds.
So while Yorvi was a below average crime lord, he was an average businessman. Perhaps his biggest stroke of luck had come when the CIS had raided one of his shipments of general foodstuffs. It was honestly too cheap for Yorvi to ever bother with, but offworld foods were adored by the locals. It was a stupidly cheap way to acquire more heklu than he knew what to do with to be honest.
But when a ship came in damaged so heavily it couldn't take off again and with all its cargo having been confiscated by Separatists who had thought it food for humanitarian purposes, the result was one Twilek trader who was stranded on Riileb and up to her eyeballs in debt with both Yorvi, who had paid in advance, and the company she had purchased the food from in the first place. Yorvi had been blessed with the good fortune of overhearing her shouting match with that very same company on the matter of her debts.
Acting quickly, Yorvi had contacted the company and bought her debt. The company had been glad to wash their hands of the situation, and Yorvi could check one item off his bucket list. Because debt to a Hutt could only mean one of two things: the invention of a new form of execution or enslavement. Since Yorvi was short on exotic death machines, he had to settle for the acquisition of a beautiful Twilek woman.
Of course, the reality of owning a slave was far less glamorous than Yorvi had imagined it in his youth. Because the Riileb thought him a joke and a minority of his business transactions occurred in his home, there was never an appropriate occasion to show off his sexy Twilek slave, and she wound up functioning more as an unpaid secretary. An unpaid secretary in a distractingly sexy outfit, but still.
Then Yorvi got the missive. Directly from the Hutt Council.
Lady Ciaran is sending an envoy. Expect him within the week. Be prepared. It was short and foreboding, but Yorvi's imagination ran wild and blinded him to any potential dangers. Even a heklu merchant in the middle of bumfuck nowhere knew of Lady Ciaran. Every endeavor she touched turned to gold. If she were interested in Riileb, this could be the chance he needed to make the other aspects of his dream come true. If all went well he'd be in the lap of luxury by the end of the year!
With only a week left, Yorvi frantically went about preparing. Fancy foods were ordered on rush delivery. His humble office received a complete remodel, and while his coffers wept, he now had something approaching an audience chamber. He dipped into his ever shrinking funds to hire some of the Riilebs who didn't think him a joke as mercenary guards for the occasion. His unpaid secretary would finally have a chance to actually serve the primary purpose of a slave, and so Yorvi purchased an extra sexy outfit, and took to carrying her chains in his hands so as not to look awkward with them when it mattered.
When the ship emblazoned with the insignia of the Abyss Watchers landed on Riileb, Yorvi the Hutt practically squealed with excitement from behind the security monitor. The old human who emerged walked forward confidently, barely slowing as two Riilebs made to lead him to Yorvi. If the Hutt had been paying attention, he'd have noticed the Riilebs' ability to sense emotions guiding them to give the visitor a wide berth. It would have also helped to be aware of this ability the natives possessed.
Stowing the security monitor, Yorvi posed importantly and waited. After a minute or two, the door opened, and in strode the old human. If Yorvi had to guess he'd put the man at around 70 years old, which likely meant he was skilled in the art of diplomacy. Lady Ciaran must be serious about wanting some heklu.
At the sight of the man however, his slave started to talk. Yorvi almost panicked, but kept a calm façade as he jerked on the chain around her neck to shut her up and prevent any embarrassment as a result of her speaking out of line. Slaves were meant to be seen, not heard. Unless they were singers, but Yorvi's slave didn't have any skills outside of being a trader it would seem, so that was a moot point.
Yorvi's daydreams about his imminent deal with Lady Ciaran bringing him the wealth needed to acquire some decent slaves were interrupted by the blaster bolt that shot his left hand, causing him to drop the chains to his slave.
"OW!" shout Yorvi, waving his hand in a futile attempt to numb the pain. Pain only compounded by the blaster handle that impacted his face moments later. Yorvi whimpered as the blaster was flipped back around and pointed menacingly between his eyes.
"Ciaran only let me do this personally on the condition that I not jeopardize our standing with the Hutts by killing you. Personally I don't think the Hutts would care." growled the terrifying human only inches from Yorvi's face. "I'm taking my granddaughter. If you have any sense of self preservation, you'll stay on this backwater planet and keep selling heklu until you die."
With that, the old human turned, shot off the chain around his slave's neck, and then left with her. Tears welling in his eyes, Yorvi used his uninjured hand to open a file in his system labelled "Goals", hesitated a moment, then unchecked the second of three boxes.
AN: I felt inspired, and thus created Yorvi, a Hutt whose terrible decisions are eclipsed only by his rotten luck. The kind of Hutt Silas can shoot without anyone caring overmuch. Probably non-canon, since I imagine rescuing Larana will be its own action in the future, and million other reasons, but I had fun writing about Yorvi.