#Diollan

[xinambercladx]

I read about their odor while exploring Legends content about Greedo and the aftermath of his demise. Canon doesn't describe this, but they have an oily musk meant to keep their skin moist but also protected from the swamp environments of their home world, and to attract a mate. (Unlike Duros, it's everywhere, all the time). Wookiepedia: <- link Most Humans and Diollans found the scent to be particularly overwhelming and likened it to the "odor of animal droppings on the bottom of your boot."

I remember also reading that bars that hosted Rhodians would invest in good air circulation and pump floral perfumes into the air to mask the Rhodian's odors so their human and other alien customers wouldn't be driven away.

the only good thing in star wars is the fact that rodians have galaxies in their eyes

[mortallyclearwonderland]

Star Wars Alien Species - Diollan

Diollans were a species of sentient, featherless avians, that originated on the planet Dioll. Dioll was a rocky planet located in the Dioll system of the Juvex sector, a part of the Senex-Juvex region in the Western Reaches portion of the Mid Rim. The Kassido Bypass hyperlane linked it to the Kardura and Thermon systems.

Some Diollans served the local aristocratic Juvex House, while others opted to live elsewhere in the galaxy. The Nar Shaddaa-based bounty hunter Spurch "Warhog" Goa was a Diollan.

They were short and stocky, with broad beaks, leathery, mottled brown skin, and small intense eyes. Their sense of smell was sensitive enough to find Rodian pheromones repulsive. They were also masters of unarmed combat.

Examples of Names: Spurch "Warhog" Goa.

Language: The Diollan language was the native language of the Diollans.

Spurch: brave bug-catcher

[badger-writes]

@badthingshappenbingo​

Prompt Fill: Verbal Abuse

Fandom: Star Wars

AO3 Link

Greedo hadn’t thought of it as a big deal, at first. The smuggler said he’d be good for Jabba’s credits, if he had a little more time; he even offered to cut Greedo in on a share of the profits for his trouble. To Greedo, that sounded like a win-win.

But when he told Goa how things went, the old Diollan went off like a detonite charge.

“You LET HIM OFF?!”

Greedo flinched. Goa hadn’t turned from his workbench, but his hands had frozen where they were, cradling his blaster rifle; his beak remained turned down at it, shoulders raised like his hackles. For a moment Greedo wondered if the outburst had even happened at all.

“Not exactly,” he stammered. There’s more, but the words stick and die in his throat.

Goa drops the weapon back onto the tabletop with a clatter. Air rushed in through his nostrils with a hiss as he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “What’d’you mean, ‘not exactly’?”

“I mean— I just gave him an extension.”

“An extension.”

“Yeah. That’s what it’s called, right? When you get more time to pay somebody back?”

There came a grunt that sounded vaguely affirmative, but not at all positive.

“Well… well, he said he’d be good for it and to come back next week, so… no problem, right?”

At that, Goa slapped his palms onto the bench and pushes himself to his feet. His stool tipped and collapsed onto its side as he wheeled around, the accident for the moment going unnoticed.

“No, BIG problem, vac-for-brains,” he said, stomping toward his charge. “It means you just let one of Jabba’s smugglers not pay his tithe - his VERY LATE TITHE - when I told him we’d have his money ready for him, like he ordered us to!”

“Wait, wait— I can explain—!”

“No no no, let me explain, greenie, since you obviously don’t have two braincells to scrape together: Hutt kajidics ain’t like whatever scrum rat street gangs you ran with on Nar Shaddaa. There’s rules to follow, see? And everybody has to respect ‘em. You know what rule number one is? The big one?!”

He pushed Greedo backwards, jabbing his finger into his belly with every step, the mingled stink of Pica Thundercloud and Tatooine Sunburn heavy on his breath. He could barely take half a breath to reply before Goa snagged him by his ear and pulled him down to his level.

“DON’T MESS WITH THEIR SHUKKING CASH FLOW,” the Diollan roars.

“Ngahh! Leggo, Goa…!”

“So since he didn’t pay Jabba, and he didn’t pay us, so we can’t pay Jabba… where’s the cash coming from, squirt? How’s the fat slug gonna get his cut?”

“It’s coming, it’s coming!” Greedo yelped as the Diollan boxed his ear. “I swear!”

“Coming from where , shit-for-brains?! Coming from who ?!”

“He said he’d be good for it—!”

“How’d’ya know he wasn’t good for it when you asked?! What if, and pardon me if I’m going too fast for you to keep up here, what if you got farkin’ played and that lowlife ‘smug is laughing all the way to Wild Space with money that belongs to your blasted boss?!”

Greedo whined as Goa smacked him once more upside the head. “He said he’d cut us in! H-he was about to turn a profit on the Llianic run—!”

“He bribed you with money he didn’t even have ?! You— Shukking— I can’t even—”

Goa balled up his fists under his chin, purpling with rage; for a few seconds, he produced a muffled escalating whine not unlike a Cosian teakettle. When he finally dropped them to his sides, he was suddenly and unnervingly calm. The glint in his eyes was neither that of fury, nor disappointment — just open contempt.

“Let me ask you something. You really think you’re worth a bribe, kid? Some lowlife no-talent loser from the swamp like you? You think you’re worth that kinda money?”

The Rodian’s head twitches from left to right. “No,” he insisted, ��t-that’s not it at all, we were gonna split it— everything I bring in, we— we always split it…"

“Don’t make me laugh,” Goa snarled. “You think that’s what we’re doing here, Greedo? You think when me and Dyyz picked you outta the gutter scum on Nar Shaddaa an’ promised you you’d be a big shot bounty hunter, it was outta the goodness of our hearts? You think anybody worth anything at all was ever gonna waste that kind of time and effort on a fool kid like you?”

It felt like the floor had suddenly dropped out from under Greedo. He stared numbly at the Diollan sneering at him, shocked by such open disdain marring the face of a man he’d implicitly trusted as a mentor and a friend. As family, even.

“Let me clue you in, twerp: you’re not smart. You’re not talented. You’ve got no skills, you’ve got no prospects - hells, you don’t even smell right half the time. You and your kind ain’t good for nothin’, cept filling space and dying, got that? No Rodian has ever made it big as a bounty hunter, ever — and if they do , Chobb forbid, it won’t be some pathetic little grub like you.”

“...Then why am I here?” he asked finally. “Why did— why did you—”

“I took you in because you saved my ass, once , long ago, and since I’m such a nice guy I thought maybe that was worth paying back. But I guess I was wrong about that because you’ve done nothing since but soak up air and piss away your keep since then. So now, instead of worrying about all that big important grown ups’ business you clearly can’t handle, you exist to get me Sunburns.”

Greedo finally wilted under the force of Goa’s glare. The Diollan snorted decisively as he hiked up his belt, turned back to his workbench, and picked his stool back upright.

“Now go get me another Sunburn,” he ordered over his shoulder. “Useless fierfekking moof-milker,” he grumbled, just loud enough to be heard, as he took up his blaster again.

Nodding meekly, the Rodian shrank away through the hatch, head bowed.

[rlanzara]

Fine Art by Diollan

[rlanzara]

Fine Art by Diollan