Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Ain’t no thing as half-way crooks(Open to The Family)

"No." Grunted the old ugnaught.

"What the frakk you mean, no?" Ragos asked harshly. Ragos stood almost three times taller than the little pig faced alien and outweighed him by well a lot and not to mention had already proved to this particular ugnaught that he was not to be karked around with.

"N.O. It means I will not have it. No. Not in my life time." The ugnaught called Ratu said defiantly.

"That lifetime is about to get a lot shorter. You talk to me like that again." Ragos warned Ratu.

Ragos was tall for his age and young for his lifestyle. Dark skin rippled with thick toned muscles, the body of an athlete. He was Koruni, the son of refugees who escaped from the new summer war that had raged on his parents home world, his homeworld for nearly eight years. He was a child then and had grown into a man on the streets of Nar Shaddaa, making his name in a criminal element through violence and an extreme lack of fear. That name had brought him to Coruscant to try and expand the criminal empire he was a soldier in, to bring new credits, new members and new notoriety to his gang.

Ratu had become a part of Ragos' efforts. The ugnaught ran a little speeder repair shop and had at one time worked for a rival of Ragos' who met a sticky end and now Ragos had moved in to take that rival's place.

"Make your threats! I will not take it!." The little alien snapped again.

The item in question was an incredibly beautiful and expensive sports speeder that looked almost brand new, that had just happened to have been sitting outside some fancy correllian restaurant on one of the levels that actually saw real day light. Ragos just happened to be passing by at the time and had the brilliant plan to take the speeder from up there and bring it down here and exchange it for credits in his pocket but gods damn Ratu was being difficult

"Maybe Esty will pay for this but I will not." Ratu grunted

"Who?" Ragos asked.

Sometime later Ragos in his stolen speeder pulled into Darkstar Repairs and laid on the horn waiting to be helped.

Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar
 
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Darkstar Repairs & Garage
Coruscanti Underworld
Level 3,243




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"Aww feth, not again."


Saraiya stood there, looking at the half-wrecked mini-speederbike, shaking he head gently as she tossed a wrench over her shoulder onto the workbench behind her. Couldn't really even hear it over the music she had playing. Grabbing a slightly greased rag from her back pocket, she wiped her hands, sighing just a little bit. She'd been working on this little bike for about 2 days now, trying to get it cobbled together for an old friend's little brother as a birthday present. Saraiya owed him one, after all. He always kept her in the loop, making sure she was aware of the goings-on around the neighborhood so she could appear to keep her nose clean. So, you know, it was only fair she pay him back somehow. And plus, Dala's little brother was a cute little scamp, had a great sense of humor for a 12 year old. She laughed a little at the thought of him riding the mini-speeder once it was done, slipping the rag into her back pocket once more.


Leaving it for now, she turned around, and squatted down to reach under the workbench. Reaching back, she opened the little cooler-unit, and pulled out a glassteel bottle. She grabbed the lip of the workbench with her free hand, and lifted herself back up with a tiny grunt. Canting her head to the side, a small pop or two came from the vertebrae in her neck, and she let out a relieved sigh as she set the bottle down. Reaching upward now to a shelf above, she pulled a squat metal cup, and set it too on the workbench. Grabbing the bottle once more, she lifted it up, and clenching her teeth onto the cork, she tugged, and with an audible pop, the cork came off, and she spit it out onto the work bench as she tipped the bottle over the cup, pouring the clear liquid from within. One finger, two fingers, three fingers... Aww, kark it, why not? Four fingers worth into the cup went, and the bottle hit the bench top once again as she snagged the cup up. turning to look at the bike once more, she saluted it with the cup with a grin, and then downed the contents in two quick, smooth swallows.



"SARAI!"

Almost instantaneously, she cringed a bit, shoulders rising and she grimaced. "Yes, Aunty Esty!?" she hollered back.


Aunty Esty was a hell of a woman in her own right. She was in her late 50's, and absolutely took NO chit. Sara honestly thought that was the only reason they were still around in this neighborhood, despite all the gang activity and other run of the mill nefariousness that permeated the Underworld. But even so, Sara made sure to come back home every couple of months, to take care of excess projects and help with the bills. After all, nothing was free down here. Even the air you breathed cost you something. Everything did. That was just the way of it. Setting the cup down, she made her way toward the front room of the shop, calling out as she did.



"Aunty Esty, honestly, how many times have I asked you NOT to call me that?"

"Get over yourself, Sarai. Now, go see what's going on out back. Someone's been laying on the horn for a few minutes now, and you'd have heard if it wasn't for all that crazy music you insist on listening to at levels loud enough to defen Tuskan Raiders."


With a roll of her steel grey eyes, Sara let out a bit of a giggle, and just smiled. "Sorry Aunty Esty. I'll go see what's up."

Heading back down into the repair bay proper, she tapped on the control to her music player, nearly killing the volume. As she reached the smaller door, she unlocked the padlock, moved the chain, and un-did the ceiling and floor dead bolts. As the door creaked open, the Fuchsia haired girl quirked a brow at the speeder parked in the alleyway near the roll-up door. Sighing first, she called out, in simple terms. "Yeah? Help you?" she said with just a hint of sarcasm under her breath. She didn't like being interrupted when she was working. And this was exactly that. An interruption.

Strike One.



Ragos Terrek Ragos Terrek | The Family​
 
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"Yeah? Help you?" a pink haired young woman in coveralls called over to him, in a tone that didn’t strike him as overly eager to help.

“That how you talk to somebody tryna do bidness wit you?” Ragos asked leaning over the driver side door around the speeder’s viewport.

The girl was cute, sorta, or she might be if she wore something more feminine and washed the dirt and grease off but that chit was hardly here or there. He didn’t come around here, leaving the safety of his block because he was looking for a date. No, he was trying to get paid, get one step closer to being whole again and stop looking over his shoulder every time he left his apartment. He wanted to be able to call home and tell Marko chit was right, that Marko had been right, that Ragos was the right mutha sucka to do the job man.

He himself had to look a little out of place sitting in a speeder that must of cost fifty-thousand credits easy. You would probably expect to see someone in an expensive suit or chit but Ragos was dressed to beat the heat of the underlevel. A black tank that bared his muscular and tattooed arms, steel blue shorts that only went half way down his equally muscular thighs, knee high black socks and a pair of black slide sandals. He looked more like he was dressed for a day of sitting around on the couch and doing nothing, not like he would be pulling up in a wildly expensive speeder claiming to be about business.

“You Esty?”

Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar
 


Leaning on the door jamb, Sara pushed her self back, and took a couple steps out in the alley, keeping her distance from the sleek looking speeder. A little bit of water and whatever other liquids might be floating about on the permacrete splashed a bit with each step of her worn-out, yet still functional, neon pink combat boots with the black laces. Sizing up the speeder instantly, her face took on a knowing and appreciative look at what she was seeing. Very slick, and quite expensive.


“That how you talk to somebody tryna do bidness wit you?” Ragos asked leaning over the driver side door around the speeder’s viewport.


She snapped out of her almost trance-like state as soon as he began to speak, and her head popped up as she gave the guy in the speeder a once-over. Muscular, foul mouthed, and full of 'tude. Even the way he dressed gave her the impression he wasn't exactly one of the more refined types that would pilot such a speeder. ~Great, another muscle-head rich boy slumming it down here with us dregs~ she thought to herself, a smirk forming on her lips as she watched him lean out of the view-port slightly.


Just one problem, here.


See, Sara might not always be around home as much as her Aunty Esty might like, but something around these parts of Coruscant do not change. No one dressed like he was, in a speeder that cost that much, would be down around this neighborhood except for two reasons. Either one; he really was the rich boy type and was looking to fix something on his daddy's speeder without anyone knowing, or two; the speeder was hotter than Mustafar in the summertime. She'd been around the galaxy a fair bit by this point in her life, and some things always remained constant. That much she knew without question. And the way this guy was talking, she was leaning toward the latter of the two possibilities. Still, he was interrupting her, and so for that, she decided to have a little fun at his expense.


She took a few more steps toward the speeder, almost sauntering toward him. As she came to stand about a meter and a half away from him, she let a hand rest on her hip, as she motioned toward the speeder. Looking him right in the eyes, she almost grinned, but not quite as she spoke.



"What's a matter? Rich kid broke his daddy's speeder and need a quick fix on the low?"


She had to laugh just a bit at that. She could be a real smartarse herself when she felt like it. "And no, Esty is my Auntie, for your information. What 'bidness' you got with her?" she said, with just a touch of venom hidden in her voice.


Batter Up.




Ragos Terrek Ragos Terrek | Ivory Stroud Ivory Stroud | The Family​
 
"What's a matter? Rich kid broke his daddy's speeder and need a quick fix on the low?" She said, looking him right in the eyes, she almost grinned, but not quite as she spoke.

“Chit, maybe” He said leaning further over the side of the car toward her. He absentmindedly bit the corner of his lip, a habit he’d had since he was little, he’d been told more than once that it was cute, not that he did it on purpose. “There’s lots of chit you and me could do on the low.”

"And no, Esty is my Auntie, for your information. What 'bidness' you got with her?" she said, with just a touch of venom hidden in her voice.

“Chit. My bidness wit her is…say it wit me…wit her.” Ragos said, sitting roughly back behind the steering column. He had no krffing patience for her disrespectful tone. Who the frakk did she think she was to make fun of how he spoke, stuck up schutta. “She here or what?”

Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar
 



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First shooting up a warehouse, now stealing one of their speeders. If he didn't know any better Aurelius might've started to suspect Ragos Terrek Ragos Terrek was intentionally trying to make enemies of The Family, one petty crime at a time. Of course, the Family had trackers on its vehicles, but Aurelius thought it might be better to let the line go a bit slack before reeling it in. As his Fiora Oracle made its way through the Underworld, the Devaronian kingpin sipped a glass of Mogano bourbon while reading over the information his Seneschal Subject 6: Cassander Solimar Subject 6: Cassander Solimar had collected on the Korunnai and his associates. Damn, that's some good bourbon.

The black Oracle soon pulled up outside Darkstar Repairs, and he put away the datapad. For today, he decided to forgo the furs for his Jkiti Greatcoat and Zhinu Suit. Aurelius opened the door, stepping out using his "cane" (in actuality a disguised force pike) and turned his head to the driver. "Keep her running." The driver nodded, and so the Devaronian lit an Ebony cigarra and approached the garage. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," Aurelius said, flashing that trademark devilish grin he was known for, glancing between Ragos and Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar .
 


She had to laugh a little as he bit his lip, after all, this would be about the hundredth time a potential customer had given her the 'look'. She seemed to attract all the wrong types, and her Aunty had told her more than once that the way she shot her mouth off would get her in trouble. And so what if she was right? She always managed a way out of it, even if it did take 3 or 4 years that one time. Stupid speederbike.

“Chit. My bidness wit her is…say it wit me…wit her.” Ragos said, sitting roughly back behind the steering column. He had no krffing patience for her disrespectful tone. Who the frakk did she think she was to make fun of how he spoke, stuck up schutta. “She here or what?”

She rolled her eyes at him, a pronounced sigh as she imagined all the nasty names he was most likely calling her in his head. Eh, she was used to it. Being a bit of a wisearse wasn't just something she did absentmindedly; it was a survival trait down here. Still, before she got a chance to speak, something caught her eye. Holy sithspit, an A/V?! she thought as the long, sleek limousine touched down in the alleyway near the garage and Ragos' speeder. You damn sure didn't see that down in this neighborhood every day. Her eyes went wide as she watched the slick-dressed Devaronian stepped out from it's confines, and lit a cigarra. He strolled up to them all nonchalant like, and Sara couldn't help but lean backward just a bit, never taking her eyes off of the man in the suit worth more than the entire garage and whatever chit was inside it's walls.

As he offered a rather curious greeting, she spoke to Ragos out of the corner of her mouth, almost whispering.
"Friend of yours, rich kid?"





 
"Friend of yours, rich kid?"

"That ugly mutha sucka? Hell naw." He told her. Ragos did not like this chit for one kriffing second. For one he was now boxed in to the chit reeking alley and for another that force forsaken alien was giving off the vibes of someone looking for trouble. You didn't come down in this part of the undercity dressed like that and riding around in a kriffing stretch limo unless you kriffing loved trouble. Either catching it or causing it and Ragos kriffing hated trouble.

Ragos had tucked a blaster behind the passenger seat but when the dev started making his way over he pulled that chit out and put it directly in the passenger side seat, he now tucked it in his lap, not hidden but also not able to really be seen from either angle of the two people he was interacting with.

"Wait your turn." Ragos told the well-dressed alien.

Saraiya Darkstar Saraiya Darkstar Aurelius Baldor Aurelius Baldor
 

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