A trip to the dark side

[Azula Tindara]

Thrukk had a bit of a love-hate relationship with Nar Shaddaa. He loved the people, he loved the atmosphere, the smells, and the culture. A smelting pot of all those dark elements brought in from every corner of the Galaxy. You could find anything, meet any kind of person, experience near any kind of hedonistic pastime considered legal, and most of those not. He could just sit for hours and watch the city go by. Watch it convulse under the weight of its populace, listen to the noise of a thousand different cultures mixing. The city never slept, there was never a boring day on Nar Shaddaa.

At the same time, space was at a premium. The lower levels each occupied a decent amount of vertical estate, but no one liked to visit those. As the city had grown upwards each level had been built shorter. Then there was the overcrowding issue as well. Being around four hundred kilos of gnarled muscles and standing over eight feet in height, people tended to give Thrukk space. But in the tightly packed crowds, people didn’t have a choice but to jostle him as he walked. The low doorways that sometimes forced him to duck and go through sideways in a distinctly unceremonious manner had no choice in the matter either.

 

[Azula Tindara]

Today, however, Thrukk was here on business. Sat in a bar that he really, shouldn’t have been in, his grimy table was covered in nut shells and empty pitchers. Eyes burned holes in the back of his head, as angry glares were shot his way from multiple directions. The barman had been rude all evening, but he had feigned ignorance and carried on drinking and snacking alone.

It seemed that he had overstayed his welcome.

Two heavily tattooed humans slid into the seats opposite him. The first had that vacant expression of the mentally sub-par, he near enough snarled at Thrukk. The second had a more experienced look to him – he cast a far more appraising eye over him. Unsurprisingly, it was the second the spoke up.

“Bar’s closing up friend. Best drink up,” he growled, before flashing the houk a smile. At least half of the teeth were missing.

“I'll jist be a coupl’a minutes,” Thrukk replied. That seemed enough for the brightest of the pair, who nodded slowly, but kept his chair. The second however, spoke up quickly.

“You’ll be leaving now,” he said. The more intelligent of the pair shot him a warning glance, but it was too late.

 

[Azula Tindara]

“Weel, ‘at was rude!” Thrukk replied. He heard several familiar sounds behind him. The crack of a pool cue being split in two, the dull thud of the cue ball being dropped – probably into a sock. From the corner of his eye, he saw the bar man sidle towards on end – likely where there was a concealed blaster. After all, this was a Red Raven bar. Thrukk’s contacts suggested it was where a large number of distributors arranged meetings, and were their men on the street would come to pick up product.

“Heard of a big houk with a metal claw,” the second said quietly.

“Aye?”

“Working for one of the Hutt,” he continued. The tension was palpable. Thrukk grinned. The fun would come soon.

He laughed a deep laugh. The kind of laugh that came straight from the belly. It rumbled around the room, and even the stupid one smiled at that.

“Dornt believe everythin' ye haur. Ah dunnae kinn onie hutt!” Thrukk said.

“What?”

“Don’t. Believe. Every. Thing. You. Hee-are. I. Do. Not. Know. Any. Hutt.” Thrukk said, drawing out his speech and using his most pretentious accent.

 

[Azula Tindara]

“Oh. Still, time to go. Private bar.”

“Aye,” Thrukk said, taking a few moments to down his last two-pint pitched of ale. He belched loudly, and wiped his chin with the sleeve of his tunic. “Reit noo that's dain where's Dijkstra?” Thrukk asked loudly. There was a moment of silence.

“Ah said dornt believe everythin' ye hear!” Thrukk laughed. Before the pair opposite him could act, he’d stood up with explosive power, flipping the heavy wooden table and slamming it into them. He forced it to the ground and then jumped on top of it. There was a series of cracks as his whole weight came down on the table with a thud, followed by a pair of low moans.

Now the fun could start.

 

[Azula Tindara]

Whilst the human took the door, Thrukk crashed straight through the window onto the narrow street. The glass crunched underfoot as Thrukk took a few steps forward. The human turned and fled, legs pounding hard as he sprinted down a walkway. The myriad of neon lights cast strange lights across the street. Perhaps it was the lighting, or perhaps it was the number of drinks Thrukk had, but as he wound up his energy bola, he had a difficult time focussing on his target.

Fortunately his aim was true. As the energy beam passed through the human’s legs at thigh height, they immediately collapsed under him.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, went Thrukk’s glass-embedded boots as he closed on the human. A great metal claw grabbed him by the scruff of the jacket and hauled him up into the air. Another holdout blaster appeared in the human’s hand, but a swift backhand to the face disavowed him of the notion, and the weapon went flying. It span through the air and went over the side of the walkway, spiralling down into the seemingly endless depths of Nar Shaddaa’s underworld.

“You’ll be Dijkstra then?” Thrukk rumbled. An air speeder pulled up beside the walkway. A sliding door, with blacked out windows slid open, and Thrukk tossed the sorry Raven in, before hopping in himself. “Lets hae a wee chat,” he grunted.

 

[Azula Tindara]

There was a dull thud, followed by a long bout of coughing. Thrukk withdrew his fist from the Raven’s stomach and took a step back. Djikstra stopped coughing, before spitting blood across the floor. The warehouse was in almost complete darkness. Chains and racks dangled from the ceiling, casting strange shadows across the walls in the lamplight. It was just the kind of location someone could use for horror film, Thrukk thought. He could imagine the heroine being chased through the darkness by some kind of monster. She’d brush some chains, making enough noise to draw the attention of the beast, and it was dart after her.

Thrukk knew all about real monsters. The magic was lost when you were paid to fight them in broad daylight, in front of crowds of thousands for a decade.

“I won’t talk!” Djikstra shouted defiantly. A dark blue welt covered most of his face, and blood streamed from his nose. A couple of his bloody teeth lay on the concrete flow beside him.

“Ah we're jist gettin' warmed up. I want ye tae ken, Ah dornt enjoy thes. Nae sport in thes. The bar, noo 'at was fun. Thes...thes is jist wark,” Thrukk replied. “Ah miss mah auld hain sometimes,” he said, holding up his durasteel claw and waving it before the Raven’s eyes. “Thes silly hin' was supposed tae gang oan minin' droids. Fur crushin' rocks an' stuff. Sham th' pressure sensur has ne'er quite worked reit. Sometimes Ah jist squeeze tay hard!”

Thrukk then very delicately grasped the base of Djikstra’s little finger, between two of the massive claws.

“Noo hoo diz 'at auld poem go? Thes wee piggy went tae markit, thes wee piggy went tae...ah sod it, I cannae remember! Thes is gonnae hurt,”

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Thrukk Gulpdar"]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]In a lot of ways Djikstra was a relic from the past.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]A lot had changed since Chiasa’s disappearance. The Underlord had formally taken control over the Red Ravens operations and immediately set out to change it in every way possible, he made it into a business, combining the operations of the Exchange with the Ravens’ influence to spread the new crime syndicate across the Galaxy.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Nar Shaddaa was simply their home, the place that kept coming back to them. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]Which was to say that few people these days really called themselves ‘Red Ravens’ anymore, that was a thing of the past, a relic - and Djikstra was part of it. With a huge sprawling organization like the Underlord’s… it was hard to keep notice of every little dime though.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]So the little Raven was assigned one of the drug operations on Nar Shaddaa, but it was [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px]his[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6666666666667px] and Rudolf Djikstra would be damned if he lost it to some second-rate muscle job that decided to threaten him sideways.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]“Feth off.” he spit some blood, and then grinned up to the… whatever the alien was. “Ya dontknow whatcha messin’ with, pally. Ya think the Ravens were bad? Hehehhhhehe.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]The chuckle turned into a loud, harking cough as air tried to force itself into his lungs. That had been one nasty punch. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6666666666667px]“Yare’ll be fethed, dead men.”[/SIZE]

 

[Azula Tindara]

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]

“Weel if yoore gonnae be rude abit it 'en we're gonnae gang straecht tae th' nasty stuff,” Thrukk replied with a wide grin. Each tooth was an inch wide slab of ivory. He gave a gentle pinch with the claw, before stepping away. The houk walked over to the chair he’d thrown his jacket across. Reaching into one side, he pulled out a cigarra and a box of matches. He ran the cigarra under his own nose, breathing deeply. What a waste, he thought, for a jumped up little street dealer with delusions of grandeur. Cartels came and cartels went, but there was always work for old Thrukk.

He proceeded to stride up to the beaten drug dealer, holding his head back by the hair roughly with one hand and wafting the cigarra under his nose. “This is a twintie credit cigarra. Sae Ah jist want ye tae kin, 'at thes is gonnae hurt ye as much as it hurts me. “Yoo're gonnae ruin th' flavour!” he said.

Grimacing, he brought the cigarra up to his mouth. He lit the roll, taking several quick puffs. “Got tae gie it braw an' hot, ur else yoo're jist gonnae bleed aw ower th' place!” he exclaimed. Cigarra between his teeth, he placed his organic hand down on the dealers forearm, clamping down with a vicelike grip. His metallic claw grasped the little finger at the base again.

“Got tae gie it a quick twist an' pull together, ur else thes creates an awful mess. Lest chance, where's th' production?”