An End to the Bloodshed

Rogan ran through the hallways of Port Boomer. It was much quieter in the base since all the Rebels had left but there was still quite a degree of activity in the halls. The Corellians had made it their job to look through and explore almost every nook and cranny of the base. They had also found an old cantina and cleaned it out quite thoroughly. They didn't have much but there was enough to have a good time at least. They hadn't given it a name yet and were arguing over which of them earned the right to have the catina named after them, given their theatrics and heroics in battle. Rogan heard voices from down the hall and he ran to the door, putting his head in. He sighed in relief as he saw Bren and Mal drinking at a corner table. He hurried up to them and threw his datapad on the table.
"Bren," he said panting heavily. "You have to see this."
"Woah there old timer," Bren chuckled. "Catch your breath." Rogan nodded in thanks and took a moment to compose himself. After a minute he cleared his throat and started again.
"I was checking some of our old back channels and networks. Looking for some of the fallout of our fight. Just checking to see if there's any heat on us," he began. Mal scoffed.
"We just took out a Raider Class Corvette in the Core Worlds. I'm pretty sure everyone in gunning for us," he said. Rogan rolled his eyes.
"I know that. I'm saying more of the unsavoury people. The ones who actually could suss the location of our base out. The ones that pose a real threat," he countered. Mal nodded pensively.
"Anyways, I found this on one of the back channels. It's making it's way around the net. Take a look," he said and pressed a button on the screen. The image of a Hutt flickered to life. He was wearing a robe and a ceremonial hat of some kind. The Jiramma Kajidic symbol was emblazoned on the shoulder of the cloak. He was an older Hutt, more wrinkled and relatively skinnier than the other's that they had seen.
"Good Day. I am Oredo the Hutt and I am speaking to the Kajidic Hunters who have called a Blood Feud against the Jiramma Kajidic. The mighty Lellel the Hutt commends you on your recent victory against the Kajidic. This attack was well planned and well executed. Although we suffered a defeat we are a Clan of the Ancients and we honour the old ways of the Hutts." he said stoically. "It is for this reason alone that we are offering you this opportunity to end this Blood Feud before it begins to cost you as much as it is costing us. Our terms are simple. First, you will pay reparations of twenty-thousand credits for the families of the people you have killed; a pittance given the damage you have caused us but we can be kind. In exchange, we will terminate all bounties against you and let it be known that our feud has ended. No asset from any Kajidic in the Cartel will hinder you unless provoked. You will stop your destruction against us and we will in turn not take arms up against you. The exchange of fund will be conducted by a third party broker of our choice." he said solemnly.
"Consider this offer. Let if be known that we will not adjust our terms. Lellel the Hutts considers this only at the behest of the Grand Hutt Council and her generosity is not known to extend far." he said and then his eyes grew dark. "Turn down this offer, and let it be known that no stone will lay unturned until the Jiramma Kajidic has wiped every trace of your existence from the galaxy. We have been kind so far and let the individual Clans conduct their own defenses. If you continue this blood feud you will feel the full wrath of the Hutts and learn to fear the power that we possess. These are our terms. Consider them." he said and the image winked out. Rogan looked at Mal and Bren who both appeared to be considering the Hutt's words.
"This is everywhere you said?" Mal asked.
"On the back channels. It'll make its rounds along all of the right circles in a matter of hours," he replied, nodding. Mal finished his drink and motioned for Bren to do the same.
"Let's go there shooter. We have to show this to the others," he said and stood up from the table to leave the cantina.
"Never a day off," Bren murmured, downing his beer.