Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Coruscant
Level 1313 - [member="Aryn Teth"] | GA Members

"You know, I don't actually like drugs very much." Matt's voice echoed out in the small, decrepit little shack of a building. He wore his usual get up, a simple vest made of asheran armorweave, a belt with his two blasters, and of course the small blade that he kept on the small of his back.

The Uru stood at the two entrances of the room, two of them for each door and the rest scattered around the room. There were only a dozen or so of them here on Coruscant, but that was more than enough to achieve what it was that he needed. They remained silent of course, their butchery already having been done. Just beyond the room that they were in was another, coated in blood and littered with the bodies of a dozen members of the Broken Skull swoop gang.

Of the two dozen or so Broken Skull that had been in this building only two of them remained alive, both on their knees in front of Matt.

"It's not that I don't understand the appeal." Matt continued on, glancing at the two shaking men. One was a Devaronian and the other was a Nautalon, something he found rather nice. Street gangs here on 1313 tended to be rather diverse, a healthy breath of fresh air compared to the more human centric gangs that one found on the surface. He supposed there was a reason for that, though he wasn't quite sure what it was. "Keep going for longer, run faster, all that."

He gestured with his hand. "It's the addiction I don't like."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders.

"I suppose that doesn't matter to you guys." Slowly the Enforcer leaned forward. "Nor does it to my family."

True enough. The Coratanni Cartel sold it's fair share of drugs, actually probably even more than that. He frowned for a moment, glancing between the two men. Both of them were shaking violently, not looking at Matt but instead letting their eyes bounce between the Uru that guarded the doors. The Enforcer glanced back at them, smiled, then looked at the two gang members. "Which is why we're in this situation. It's a money thing, you understand."

"W-w-we u-understand, Coratanni controls Thirte-"
A blaster shot rang out before the boy could finish, another quickly following it as Matt put down the other boy.

He shook his head, letting the end of his blaster cool before he slowly stood from his chair and turned towards The Uru. This was the third gang outpost that they had eliminated in as many days. The work was gruesome, but i was necessary. There were more members of course, there were always more, but this was about sending a message, nothing less. He glanced at the bodies, then towards the Uru. "String them up like the others."

Consolidation.

That was the message. He just wondered if the simpletons in this place would understand.
 

Kiyron

Guest
K
"What's the reports say?" Kiyron said, leaning forward on the desk as the techie sifted through the screens. He rubbed his temple as he listened. He'd been relocated here with the rise of the Coruscant First movement, with its suspicious links to the now defunct Iron Empire, and convenient emergence with the outbreak of war with the First Order. Highly convenient, in fact. SIS higher-ups suspected First Order interference.

But that was not at all what these new reports were saying. No, they were addressing different things entirely. An uptick in gang deaths that rapidly exceeded the norm. No, this was showing signs of a serious gang war about to break out in the lower city. Off-worlders, according to the rumors that had started circulating through the informant system. A big name gang. Coratanni. He'd heard things about them and where they had started.

Their arm had grown long, if they were exercising such influence here in the Core. It was something quite concerning, in fact. If that was the case, they would need to act fast to try and minimize their influence in Alliance space.

"Two of them in the past two days," the techie said, skimming through a datapad. "All known gang hideouts. Bodies deliberately arranged."

"Definitely a message." Kiyron mused, cybernetic fingers whirring as he clenched them into a fist. "Well." He pushed back from the chair and stood. "May have to send a message of our own." He tapped a message through an encrypted SIS channel, notifying them of the impending operation.

There were big-name gangs on the loose down in 1313. And where there were big name criminals, there would be bounty hunters.


[member="Barr Vexos"] [member="Coratanni Cartel"]
 
Work was never done, was it? Jared shook his head as he paced through the streets. He knew that there was always something to fix on this world. Maybe that was why when the Alliance had picked him up they put him on Coruscant. To start fixing issues there? He wasn’t sure. The Directorate was allowing him to keep to that posting as well, which was nice. The Core was… well, it wasn’t Csillia. And it wasn’t too far a trip to Corellia, his ancestral homeworld. But for now, he was just going to have work on this world until something better came along. Or somewhere that needed him more.

The former Imperial Knight’s red armor was now painted a black, with gold trim on it. He was an enforcer for the Alliance. What he was hearing now though, was that he was needed in the lower levels. Somewhere down in the 13 block.

Terrific. Word hadn’t really gotten to him what was going on, but he figured he’d take a swing through. Most things here weren’t giving him a real reason to be anywhere, so why not go a bit deeper. And taking an unmarked speeder just gave him that ability to move around a little more quietly.

“Y’know, there was a time I’d have never came down planet side if I could help it.” He muttered to the Duros with him, the other being just shrugging. Moving through traffic, they were shuffling through the various channels, but nothing big was going down.

Lets call it a hunch.

A Force induced hunch.

[member="Kiyron"]
[member="Coratanni Cartel"]
 
Whatever this was, it wasn’t [member="Karsan Calnov"]’s work, nor that of the copycat. From the decrepit streets of 1313, Geller looked upon the strung up corpses with cold indifference. The vigilante had started letting his work make statements, but not like this, this was someone who wanted to stake a claim. Hands shoved into the pockets of his long coat the mercenary puffed on the stimstick between his lips as the crowd of terrified onlookers slowly began to move on with their business, message fully received.

Not him, it took more than a few strung up bodies to shake him these days. The One Sith likes to send messages this way, had him do it for them more than once. They’d blended conventional warfare with sowing absolute terror, just like all the Sith before and after them, but the One Sith, something about them seemed to put them above the rest. Crime families didn’t compare, nothing did.

Taking a drag from the stimstick, he pulled a hand from his pocket and removed it from his lips, puffing out the smoke as his eyes remained coldly affixed to the swaying corpses. He didn’t know what self-righteous streak had possessed Karsan to go up against folks like this. It was all a game with them, and no matter how hard anyone tried there would still be players.

A decade or so of Sith occupation hadn’t made any lasting impact, one man sure as hell wasn’t going to either.

But maybe he’d have had more for that cause if it had been something other than a swoop gang up in the air, bodies hanging on display.

Flicking the used stimstick away he turned and walked away. No sense in waging a war right here, right now, he’d need better equipment, and a better reason to care. A financial one most likely.

[member="Jared Starchaser"] [member="Kiyron"] [member="Coratanni Cartel"]​
 
1313 - Warehouse District
[member="Thane Danson"] | [member="Jared Starchaser"] | [member="Kiyron"]

"You're sure?" He asked, eyes flickering towards the Uru that stood in front of him.

The Tusken remained silent for a moment, then simply responded with a nod.

It was not an uncommon act from them, they didn't like to speak. Tatooine was more than their homeworld, it was the sacred ground that they worshiped. Most Tusken Raiders wouldn't even think of stepping off world, and the fact that The Uru did was a testament to just how loyal they were to him. That being said they had their limits, and while they were off-world The Uru tended to keep as silent as possible. It made them excellent soldiers, but terrible conversationalist.

A pity really. "Good."

Matt said as he leaned back on the crate slightly, scratching the slight stubble that had grown on his chin over the last few days.

The response to their actions had been quicker then Mara had anticipated, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The Cartel hadn't really thought that the authorities would really care all that much about District 1313, it was after all the Underworld, but then again perhaps the Alliance was trying to make an impression on it's new Capitol. He frowned for a moment, looking at The Uru around the room before he finally leaned forward and gave them a nod.

"Alright then." He slowly stood. "Just like we planned."
 
The streets were filled with terror, he could hear the denizens clamoring about the grotesque display put on by the [member="Coratanni Cartel"]. Yet instead of his usual disinterest, he felt something almost alien; guilt. To see the Broken Skull's gone was anything but bad for the locals, the group had been particularly aggressive in 'recruiting' from the adolescents and children in the area, and were fairly violent when it came to getting their protection money.

But seeing them strung up made them wonder if the Coratanni were going to be any better. Something inside him felt worried for them, funny considering how brutal he'd been, but he felt it all the same. Down here they were out of sight and out of mind for most anyone with the power to do a damned thing. Not that any bureaucrat would've anyway, these folks were poorer than poor, and caught in the middle of at least one violent vigilante who seemed more concerned with slaughtering things than protecting people or any other rational goal, stuck with a mostly corrupt police force, and oppressed by violent cartels.

They were in the heart of misery down here. He wondered if the Alliance had bothered to send as many personnel after him and Ragmar's Raiders down here if things would be as bad. Probably wouldn't be much better, but there was a chance at least. The time was going to come when he needed to leave Coruscant, and he suspected it was soon.

Yet something nagged him to stay. Something stupid.
 

Kiyron

Guest
K
[member="Jared Starchaser"] [member="Thane Danson"] [member="Coratanni Cartel"]

-----------------------

Now geared up and taking a public transit speeder down level 1313, Kiyron studied the information again. Nothing had really changed, but new reports had indicated that a third gang had just been hit. Three in three days. Even as he read, his head was tilted, listening to those around him. None really made mention of it, except for two CSF guys in the corner. They were on their way back home and they had received the reports and were as uneasy as the SIS.

Nobody liked it when a gangland war broke out. People died. Innocent people, usually. Sure, gang members died, but they weren't the only ones. Tensions had been rising in Coruscant as the radicals tried to cement their power. Their rhetoric went against everything that Coruscant had ever stood for, and everyone else knew it. Now this?

After some time, the speeder came to a stop and the passengers filtered off. They gave Kiyron a wide berth in his armor that was strikingly Mandalorian. He strode off and into the streets. Quiet, tense conversations rippled along the edge of the walkway as he made his way deeper into the lair.

The locations of the killings had been triangulated and the intersecting area placed under surveillance from small droids that buzzed along the streets, but they hadn't picked anything up yet.

Crowds surged around him as he wandered through the level. If he were a gang of ruthless criminals, where would he hide? The thought brought a laugh from the man. There was an entire planet to hide on. He could hide anywhere.

Of course, there were other ways to get the information. Analysts had been combing security footage since reports of the first killings had come in and had begun tracing the routes to the best of their ability. But, these criminals were professionals. It was difficult to keep track.
 

Kingsley

intergalactic bird of mystery
The neon lights of the pawn shop cast a fluorescent pallor into the gloom of 1313, its ampersand flickering intermittently.

This far down Coruscant's weather control systems were far less effective, which could lead to occasional showers of acrid rain in certain parts of the underworld, including this particular stretch of the infamous sublevel. For years, the same shop with apparently the same owner had operated in a world where all out gang warfare was commonplace enough to have its own seasons of intensity. Much of that security was through word of mouth, the area's regulars all knew the little boutique catered in part to the mystic arts. Superstition kept most of 1313's denizens in line, for fear of provoking the Force.

Glass shattered on impact as a street operator was tossed back out through the closed shop door and onto the curb. Through the portal's shattered remains, the sounds of scattergun fire could be heard booming out in quick succession over a steady stream of indecipherable shouting.

"And stay out!"

The second enforcer back pedaled through a shredded frame, pausing only to give a quick spray of return blaster fire before dashing off down the bustling thoroughfare. A hulking Hiitian shopkeep followed them both to the store's threshold, firing off a few more scattergun shells between obscenities to hurry them along.

"Gang season is early this year," he mumbled to himself, not yet suspecting this latest demand for protection payments to be anything more than an early start to more turbulent times.

Still, something about their sales pitch had bothered him. It had been the name of the outfit, Coratanni. He had heard stories, but they were more bogeyman tales than hard fact. Only thing Kingsley was certain of was that Galactic City was normally outside their territory. Calmly reloading his scattergun, the hulking avian eyed down anyone in staring distance before receding back into his pawn shop in search of a broom and dustpan to clean up the mess.

[member="Coratanni Cartel"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Jared Starchaser"] | [member="Thane Danson"]​
 
1313 - Warehouse District
[member="Thane Danson"] | [member="Jared Starchaser"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Kingsley"]

Matt scratched his chin slightly, still sitting on the now empty weapons crate as he read a small report that had been given to him by one of the observers. His lips thinned and his head shook from side to side as he let out an exasperated sigh.

Mara had predicted that this would happen.

The Coratanni Cartel was one of the larger, and more organized Criminal outfits in the galaxy. Their reach was far and extended well past the boundaries of many galactic Governments. Of course that made their name well known by most people in the Underworld. His sister had surmised that once they began to act within the underlevels of Coruscant that people would crop up and attempt to utilize their name for benefit. It seemed that some were now doing just that in 1313.

Of course what many wouldn't know was that Coratanni didn't actually use any sentient beings as enforcers or thugs. That work was left entirely to the CSE, Human Replica Droids designed by his mother and father. Besides that, the Cartel didn't actually deal in petty extortion. The time, headache, and everything else that came with it simply wasn't worth it for the meager profits one would receive from storefronts and shipping entities down here in 1313.

So, people were imitating the Cartel, using their name for their own profit. It was an annoying, one that would need to be taken care of. "Find them, string them up."

It might have been petty, they probably could have let it go, but it was an important message to send. The Coratanni Cartel wasn't here to endanger the way of life, they weren't here to take protection money, and they certainly weren't here to turn the populace against anyone. No, Coratanni was here for one simple reason; to make money.

For them that meant something entirely different than it did for the little street gangs and thugs that ordinarily roamed the streets of 1313.
 
The time it took for the [member="Coratanni Cartel"] to start snagging impostors was impressive, those foolish enough to impersonate a member of the vicious mob had dug their own graves, and their cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, both Cadmon's and the Coratanni enforcers. Swoop Gangs and two bit con-artists didn't garner any sympathy from the veteran commando. He simply walked on by.

The Coratanni had already gotten themselves a bounty from the Alliance side of things, but Cadmon wasn't on world to chase down bounties, he was here to find a friend, not make money. But the groups resurgent presence could very well attract the copycat vigilante who he so desperately needed to find, the person had to have answers of some kind.

So Geller would wait, when night fell he'd set out and, stake out the area.

Force he was starting to think like a cop.

Turning into the seedy motel room he'd rented for himself, he sat in a worn out chair and pulled a duffel bag from under his bed, unzipping the thing and unveiling a small armory of firearms and equipment. Sure, he may have been thinking like a cop, but he'd still fight like a damned Blackblade when it came to it. Did he want to pick a fight with the Coratanni? No, but when a murderous vigilante went in guns blazing, his only chance at getting him out alive likely meant watching his ass.

Then putting one through his legs of course. Had to make detaining him easy.
@Kingsley @Kiyron @Jared Starchaser​
 
1313 - Warehouse District
[member="Cadmon Geller"] | [member="Jared Starchaser"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Kingsley"]

Crime, Turf wars, that sort of thing was never an exact science.

It was an unfortunate fact that people were rather unpredictable at times, especially when they were backed into a Corner, and what was 1313 but a gigantic corner? Most of the residents of the Coruscant Underworld did not live there by choice. They were stuck, held in place by a system that was arrayed against them. The government didn't much care about societies dregs, the security forces saw them as enemies, and the gangsters saw them as something to exploit.

Matt couldn't claim that he saw them any different, he was after all just a criminal.

The upshot was that the Coratanni Cartel wasn't on Coruscant to exploit the last of the dregs, no, they were just here to perpetuate a culture. The Underworld was a perfect fit for the Cartel, somewhere they could operate with almost limitless upshot, as long as they didn't get out of control anyway.

That was what this was about, control.

Coratanni wanted a tight reign on the crime within 1313, not because of any good will or angelic intent, but because they knew as long as things didn't explode, the Allliance nor the government of Coruscant had any reason to come looking. Crime would continue, the sale of drugs, prostitution, and dozens of others, but under the Cartel it would all be carefully watched. No more street gangs, no more random murders. Everything would be held to a tighter reign.

"They're starting to get the message." Matt mused quietly to himself, glancing at the news that the Blazing Claws had asked for a meeting. "I'll meet with them."

He told his silent companion. "Set up a perimeter, The Clasped Tail."

An old Cantina in the southern part of 1313, dark, dangerous, and mostly to be avoided. Though not by people like him.
 
1313 - Clasped Tail Cantina
[member="Cadmon Geller"] | [member="Jared Starchaser"] | [member="Kiyron"] | [member="Kingsley"]

"I'm happy to come to an arrangement." The words were the first thing that came out of his mouth once he and his guests had settled. Two of the Uru stood behind him, holding fast in their stoic silence. The men that had gathered before them couldn't help but flash quick looks at the Tusken raiders, likely already having heard just what they had done.

"Agreement?"
"Ha"

The two men responded almost simultaneously, glancing at one another briefly before returning their attention back to Matt. Both of them came from the Blazing Claws, a pirate gang that had made a small home here on the Galaxy's jewel. They weren't the strongest or biggest gang that could be found in the Underworld, but they had a name that most recognized. That was more important than anything else, and Matt didn't care how he got their...allegiance.

"The simple fact is you've already lost." Simple truth. "You're outgunned, outnumbered, and outclassed."

Indignation crossed their faces, but before they could speak Matt continued. "Don't ignore the future, my friends."

That was all he had to say.

These men were not patriots, they were not loyalists. They went to the highest bidder, or the ones allowing them to lives. In this case both facts counted for Coratanni, and that was exactly how they would gain their control. Each gang would acquiesce, each gang would fall Coratanni's rules, and each gang would fall into place.
 
1313 - Central City, Abandoned Building

"It's time to send The Uru back home, Little brother."

The small blue cloaked little figure spoke from a holo-projector that Matthias held in his hand. She was shrouded in her usual robes, though he could see the outline of her chin even in the projection. There was a slight smile on her face, clearly pleased that things had gone so well. Matt didn't particularly care, he was glad for his sisters success of course but...well Coruscant really wasn't his favorite place in the galaxy. He would have preferred something warm, sunny.

Not dark and Drab like the undercity, especially 1313.

"Alright." He said with a nod. "I'll have them head towards Akkara."

They would be able to get there without being noticed. The Tusken's weren't exactly the smartest when it came to use of technology, but they could move like ghosts when they needed to. He supposed it was all that practice blending into the sands of Tatooine. The skills trasnferred well enough, especially in a place where people forgot about most things unless they were right in front of your face. Another reason Matt didn't like this place.

"You have CSE's?"

Mara asked, another nodding following from Matt a few seconds later. "Felix arranged it. They'll be spreading throughout 1313 to keep an eye on things."

Simple enough, really. Most of the major gangs had now fallen in line, and Coratanni now had a semblance of control.
 
1313 - Central City, Abandoned Building

Things had been going surprisingly well. In truth he had expected more push back, not from the Alliance, but from the criminal gangs that held interest within 1313. The Alliance would undoubtedly come knocking eventually, after all a criminal syndicate in their midst was nothing that could be ignored, but he had been far more concerned with outfits like the Black Sun.

Those larger gangs that held no stake in the Cabal, and those that could openly oppose the Coratanni Cartel.

Yet they had all been silent. Perhaps they realized that fighting back was useless, or perhaps they just thought a strike at a later date would be better time. Whatever it was the Coratanni Cartel was now the largest criminal syndicate operating on Coruscant, meaning they would have to be more careful about how they did things. Often times he and his siblings were blatant, brutal. The staging of the gang murders had been harsh, but necessary. Now they would have to hold to more subtle tactics.

Matt let out a sigh, rolling his neck.

"Alright." The Thawne said with a loud sigh, glancing at one of the odd looking humans standing in the corner of the room.

The Coratanni Synthetic Enforcers were almost life-like. They appeared the same as various humanoid species, Chiss, Twi'leks, and of course the standard fare, but there was something...off about them. Some had a dead in the eye appearance, others didn't exactly move the same way as organic beings. They were Replica Defects, produced for Half-Life but flawed in some way that made them ill-fit for service there.

"Get this place cleaned up." He told the droid. "We're gonna need a home."
 
1313 - Central City, Abandoned Building

It seemed odd to him, that things had moved so quickly. He supposed part of it was the reputation that the Cartel still held. Until recently most of their business had been conducted in the outer rim, they had moved with swift and efficient brutality, but they had always stayed upon the edge. Their swift action here in the core had come in the wake of that, and he thought that some of the gangs had already known exactly what the Coratanni Cartel could bring to bear.

Matt leaned back in his chair, that had to be it.

A shrug rolled over his shoulders. In the end it didn't really matter. The Cartel had it's foothold within 1313 now, the smaller gangs had fallen into line, and the Alliance...well he was sure that eventually they would come calling. The problem was not one for his concern however, and as soon as they finished with this little build up of Security Matt would be leaving Coruscant. Mara could be the one to deal with the Alliance, it was her business after all.

He was sure that if the Cartel kept things quiet it would be some time before any Jedi came knocking.

There were several wars to fight after all.
 

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