An Exchange of Trust (PM to join)

[Arage Bao]

Nar Shaddaa​

Jimmy’s​

Afterhours, that special twilight period between busy as feth and no man’s land. The last few locals and patrons were slowly filling outta the bar, giving Khal a nod, a wave of the hand or a shouted thanks for the good drinks. Didn’t matter how far the Exchange had come, how much Khaleel was earning by the daily, as far as he was concerned he’d always have some time to stand behind the bar, wipe off the counter and pour some drinks when ordered. Just a way of life, ya know? Best manner to stay sane in a fecked world.

It was a couple of days after the Ravens had finally settled down on Nar Shaddaa, the rapture had done good - the Republic was gone, Black Suns all but a wisp, ‘Shaddaa had been neutral zone for some time now, meant that Khal had expected them to come. Now it was chaos in the streets, major players taken down, a new order trying to enforce itself.

Khal just kept on cleaning his glasses, [member="Tacitus Zambrano"] was sitting in one corner, cleaning his gun probably. [member="Grozkalla"] had his own, all was peaceful, all was relaxed and quiet. ‘Least until the door went open and a special guest arrived with his own entourage.

The bluesy melody settled back into the background as Khaleel caught a good look of Bane himself. Would have wanted to say he was surprised, would have been a lie.

‘Well… mister president Bane, I have been expecting you for some time now.’​

Khal looked over his drinks and finally settled for a heavy one, suppose that would fit the conversation that would follow.

‘Care for a drink?’​

 

[Cryax Bane]

The atmosphere at Jimmy’s was a far cry from the razzle-dazzle of the neon-lit Dragon Palace Casino, but it epitomized a certain kind of Nar Shaddaa nightlife, dark rooms full of sticky tables, beady-eyed malcontents speaking in hushed tones about some nasty something-or-other going on in a back room somewhere. In that sense, Jimmy’s was no different. It was a dump, but it happened to be one of the nicer dumps in the sector. The perfect place to meet a man like Khaleel Malvern.

It was a fortuitous time for this meeting. Had the two men met when Bane was first thrust into the spotlight, Khaleel would have met a very different Chiss, one with a big shiny chip on his shoulder. These days, Cryax had grown into his role, adopting a world-weariness that stuck to most crime bosses like gum to a shoe. Bane knew that power was a fabrication, a mirage in a thirsty desert. The more you wanted it, the harder it was to grab, and the easier it was for it to fall through your hands. True power couldn't be forced. It came with time, reputation, and tenacity.

The Chiss crime boss stepped into Jimmy’s with an ostentatious display of security that would have been embarrassing had it not been for the high price on his head and a certain Mando Field Marshall that wanted to skin his blue hide. His gait like a laser beam, he shot towards the bar, his henchmen and droids widening the circle as they gave the two men their space.

His glowing red eyes cutting through the dusky bar lighting, Bane shook his head at the drink offer. “I’m good thanks,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. Formality was a luxury he didn’t have being out in public like this, so he cut right to chase.

“What can I do for you Mr. Malvern?”

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Cryax Bane"]

It didn’t look like Malvern had actually heard the crime boss. His movements were relaxed, economical and to the point, no gesture was wasted and his entire posture spoke of simple satisfaction. Glasses appeared, drinks were poured, two to be precise, because that was the entire point, no? Bane said he didn’t want a drink, but everyone wants a drink, some only want a sip, others want a gulp… and then there are those that ain’t even satisfied by an entire ocean.

Point was, Bane might not want a drink right now. But at the very end of this? That would probably change and change quickly. Bottles disappeared again, he finished wiping the counter and finally lifted his nonchalant gaze on Cryax. A shrug was barely noticeable as he lit himself a cigarette, put the box on the counter. Guy might want a cig, might not want it.

Wasn’t Khal’s problem, what was Khaleel’s problem was the entirety of the man in front of him. More specifically that which he brought with him, the Red Ravens. Big problem right there. But not the point right now, maybe not ever. All depends on how the conversation goes.

‘Ya know what I do, mister Bane?’ it wasn’t so much a question, as much as an intro to a further explanation. Khaleel knew Bane knew, he wouldn’t be the leader of the Ravens without proper investigation. But some things needed to be said regardless, it was all about appearances. ‘I am the man who listens.’

Another shrug.

‘They come to me and ask, ‘Mister Malvern, this man has broken his promise to me. What is fair.’ or my personal favorite, ‘Khal. He showed me disrespect. What is a proportional response?’’

He took a drag, puffed out some smoke and let that hang for a moment, before he finally came to the crux of the matter.

‘These days though, there is a new song the birds sing, mister Bane. They come to me and they say. ‘These Ravens, they have no respect for our traditions, what should we do about them?’’

Khaleel leaned against the wall, his head slightly tilted; fascinated perhaps. And he waited for Bane’s response.

 

[Cryax Bane]

Cryax silently listened, glowing red eyes watching as the liquor was splashed into not one, but two glasses. The ceremony was a subtle challenge that seemed to say “my bar, my rules.” The Chiss pulled his drink towards him, eyes on the rim, gaze lost in the heavy liquid within, but he didn’t take a sip. Once Khaleel was finished talking, the young crime boss lifted his head.

“I’m aware of what people on the sector are saying, but you know how these things go.” His hand lingered on the glass, one finger playing around the rim. “One can only move forwards or backwards. Stagnation is not an option, Mr. Malvern. People get restless, and bad things happen when people are restless.” Whatever Cryax was hinting at here, he didn’t bother to elaborate on. He paused for a moment, a slight crease in his forehead emerging, and then continued, his face an unreadable mask again.

“Traditions are important, I agree. However, a true maverick knows when it’s time to dim the light of tradition, so that innovation can shine.”

A dark smile crossed his face and stayed there, unwavering, a carving on the face of a gravestone.

“Do you want to be a maverick, Mr. Malvern?”

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Cryax Bane"]

Heh. A bemused expression passed Khaleel’s face. Truth was the man had never been much for traditions and the sort, fancy thoughts fleeting as swiftly as anarchy starts to reign on the streets. He understood that, Bane understood that, but the old ringleaders of the Underworld did not, could not.

It was what set them apart, and yet… yet those same old ringleaders considered Khaleel one of them. The reason for this distinction was twofold, but if Bane had done his homework he would have known what he was dealing with already.

He’d also know the current state of Nar Shaddaa, the rapture had made billions vanish overnight, hadn’t been a good thing for business. Then the Ravens came in and made matters even more muddy, not that Khaleel really minded. Chaos was a ladder, and it were the mavericks that truly profited from it.

‘Mister Bane, I like a straightforward approach.’ Khalee finally replied, putting a pin into what he really wanted for now. ‘So here is the situation as I currently see it, the Nar Shaddian underworld is in state of uproar, the peace is fragile and it won’t be long before they decide to go to someone less restrained for their questions.’

A pointed look.

‘Nar Shaddaa needs a strong guiding hand, now more than ever. But they will never accept a Raven, it will mean war and nobody wants war. A lot losers there, no winners whatsoever.’ and now he went to the wants. ‘You asked me what I wanted, well mister Bane. I want stability for Nar Shaddaa, I want progress and I want to avoid any more bloodshed. So if you want me, I will be your Maverick here.’

‘Nar Shaddaa stays autonomous, you do not directly interfere and allow me to bring order to the streets. You will receive a cut out of every action, and when something goes down the banners will be rallied. This is how we achieve progress, while avoiding a feud, an eternal vendetta.’

Again Khaleel tilted his head and awaited a response. Truth to be told, he wasn’t expecting Bane to want this, he had heard the rumors about the nailgun, if those were true than this probably wasn’t a guy who cared about a little blood spilled. But Khal needed to try, it was what he owed to Vaud, to the Order he had tried to serve in the past, to the people he cared about.

At the end of this he could at least say with a clean conscience that he had tried.

 

[Cryax Bane]

Cryax agreed with Khaleel about some of the things in his spiel. Nar Shaddaa was too big a place for the Chiss himself to oversee. Between Antecedent, Makeb, and those other Hutt space dirtballs, he would be spread way too thin, as would Chiasa and some of the other top Raven brass. Cryax also shared Malvern's concern about the Ravens prescence starting a war. Morale was low among the battle-fatigued Ravens, who were still reeling from the event that stole away half the galaxy. The time for fighting had ended. Now it was time to reap the spoils. Overall Khaleel's proposal wasn't bad, but there was one glaring problem it, which was about to be made clear to the rather ballsy man.

Once the other man was finished, Bane laughed, an edgy chuckle that started deep down in his chest and migrated upwards. Then his tone became venomous.

"Khaleel, I sincerely hope you're not taking me for a fool," he growled. "What should I tell the Red Ravens who fought and lost sisters and brothers so that we could gain a foothold on the Smuggler's Moon? That their boss is going to sit on the sidelines and let someone else run the show? You see my dilemma, Mr. Malvern." It wasn't a question.

"Nar Shaddaa does need a guiding hand. On that we can agree, Mr. Malvern. But i'd rather see, both of our 'guiding' hands in this pie. I will take my cut, but I will not be on the sidelines. We can work together on Nar Shaddaa."

Soon a honeyed tone returned. "If that's agreeable to you, Mr. Malvern, of course." The Chiss finally took a long sip of the drink before him, savoring its flavor with a flash of white teeth.

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Cryax Bane"]

Khaleel had been expecting a quick refusal, perhaps some laughter, maybe a threat or two. What he hadn’t been expecting was a reasonable reaction to the proposal, perhaps the Ravens weren’t all that bad and could be reasoned with in the best of days. When he had been younger Khal hadn’t bothered much with the negotiation process, most of the times he knew when he could get more outta a deal - but it hadn’t always been in his best interest to pull out all there is.

Ain’t the case here, because this wasn’t about profit. This was about creating a workable environment for both of them, and it was about keeping up appearances also for the both of them. Because that was the thing, no? Three-fourth of a crime boss’ job was to show how ‘strong’ and ‘tough’ he was.

Every one of ‘em had a different way of doing that, some would lobotomize a man in front of his crew with a nailgun, others would have their enemies disappear without a trace or digit to the name. Different kinds of strength, that right there.

‘A silent partner in private.’ Khaleel finally replied, after some pondering. ‘You get your cut and your support. In public we're equal partners. In private I will rely on your guidance, but the final decisions would be mine.’

He raised his hand, before Bane could argue against it.

‘This will ensure that you can tell your brothers and sisters that their sacrifice was not in vain. That you are in control. And it will ensure that I can tell my people that we haven’t lost our freedom, that we still have a home.’ Khal shrugged. ‘It’s logistics, I can’t call you every time we need to make a swift judgement and trust me… there will be many of those in the day to come.’

It was a fair deal, because what it would do was allow both of them to retain face in public. Partners and all. But Khaleel had grown up here, he knew these people, knew the streets and the action, he knew how to best handle all of them without creating twenty new feuds in a day.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Grozkalla left suddenly and inexplicably, walking out the door and straight off the walkway. He fell into oncoming traffic, but managed to survive somehow, probably that Wookiee resilience. He was put into a coma and hospitalized. The doctors are unsure how long the coma will continue. Of course, Pauul Farrlo sitting at the bar only witnessed Grozkalla fall.

"Stupid engineers," he muttered, "building walkways without pedestrian rails. It's not like it could be less aesthetically pleasing somehow. Frickin' neon jungle."

He went back to nursing his drink.

 

[Cryax Bane]

Lowering his drink, Cryax frowned, his red alien orbs studying the rim of the glass. The deal was fair, but not ideal. The Chiss crime boss had become a bit of a control freak in recent months, and he still aimed to retain a vice-like grip on all of the Red Ravens interests, especially the newest or the biggest holdings. Nar Shaddaa fit both of those bills.

Bane raised his head and looked the bartender squarely in his unshaven face. "Khaleel, a year ago I lived here on Nar Shaddaa. In a flophouse of an apartment near the Entertainment District. I paid my rent by siphoning credits from Corelllian Engineering business accounts. Not enough to raise any alarms, but enough to buy a daily meal and pay my bills. To make matters worse, I had a bounty on my head. I was so desperate at one point I almost joined the military." he stopped, studied the glass again, and then spread his hands.

"Look at me now" Cryax said with a smirk. "I'm rich. I run one of the largest Criminal Syndicates in the Outer Rim. Frell, half the time I don't even know how I got here."

"But I do know how I got here. I got here by refusing to settle. I can't take your deal yet, Mr. Malvern. It still feels like settling to me. I need to be involved in all steps of the decision-making. All of them." He slammed his hand down on the bar for emphasis, his red eyes like tiny fires in his skull.

Finally, his tone became more concillatory. "I understand that there will be some decisions you make on your own. For logistics." Air quotes framed his face. "That is fine, Mr. Malvern. I just hope that for your sake, the decision you make will be the right one."

He stuck out his blue-skinned hand for the other man to shake. "Do we have a deal then, Mr. Bartender?"

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Cryax Bane"]

A last puff of smoke was exhaled, the butt crushed on the ashtray. As the smoke curled around them and Bane tried to make the last deal between them a portion of the Bartender told him to deny the agreement, it was the cruel part of him that wished to see the Ravens descend into a feud that would span years and bring the neatly made apparition crash all around them.

It was a passing fancy, a daydream that flashed in and out, most people had them and it was perfectly sane.

Finally then, as Bane stopped talking Khal reached into his pocket, slowly and steadily, making sure that nobody got all to nervous about his intentions.

Out of it he got a ring, it looked ancient, engraved and all. If Cryax had really lived on Nar Shaddaa before, or if he had done his homework really extensively, he would realize the origin of the object. It was the signet ring of the Underlord, the leader of the Black Sun, without hurrying himself too much the bartender casually slipped the ring onto his finger and gave Bane a raised eyebrow, followed by an easy grin.

‘Deal made, mister Slicer.’

Hand gripped hand, and Cryax would feel the iron caressing his skin. A reminder of who he had been talking to for the duration of the conversation.

 

[Cryax Bane]

Cryax held his breath as he watched the shaggy-haired bartender finish his smoke, then reach into his pocket and pull out a ring. The insignia on its face sparked a wave of seething hatred. A black sun carved in iron. The Black Sun were as dead as a doornail, yet here was that blasted ring on the finger of a man whose whole performance today could be simply a prelude to a back-stabbing.

As the Chiss vigorously shook hands with Malvern, he searched the other man’s eyes for ill will, but came up empty. He made no mention of the ring, and returned Malvern’s grin. Bane’s smile was a bit too wide to be considered easy.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Malvern. You should come to Antecedent sometime soon. Meet me on my turf and spend the night gambling with me at the casino. I insist.” He put marked emphasis on the last statement, a not-so-subtle hint that the offer wasn’t negotiable.

Finally, Cryax gulped down the rest of his drink, turned on his heel and left, his exit as bereft of formality as his entrance. The Red Ravens President’s droids dutifully followed behind him, their footfalls drumming like a funeral march.

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]