Private Glitters

[Wynter Rackham]

TALES FROM CLOUD CITY
Eldin Daine

TRACK I

You'd think that Cloud City was all pristine beauty and corporate excellence.

High up in the clouds.

And maybe it was up there. In the skies. It was different down below. Among the refineries and choked streets of the industrial zones. There people had to scrap things together to make a living and survive. Wynter loved it. The rust in the air, the grime and dust, at least for brief stints. You had to catch a breath sometimes after all. Couldn't always be breathing in ash, that chit could kill a man.

The fact that most people didn't have that luxury...

Well, that wasn't his problem, was it?

"Yah, yah, look cloud boy, dis be what I got an' I dun' haggle." Wyn drawled lazily. He sat on a crate in the corner of a courtyard. A hover-ball courtyard. At least, once upon a time it had been, when some enterprising souls still thought they could lift this neighborhood up. Around him maybe three or four local lads. Next to him was a smaller bag, currently gleaming with the distinct chitter of eternity crystals. Crimson red the aura coming off of it was dark. They were called eternity crystals, because if you grind them into dust and sniff it all up? The high you got felt eternal, as you moved through time.

It was a wild ride.

Also expensive and very illegal.

"So, what say ya, dime a dozen? Plenty for all." A smirk there, which turned into brows furrowed. Because one of the lads stepped up already. Puffing chest. "...or we can just jack it from ya, man, you only be one and we is three!"

Wynter sighed.

"At least you can count." He muttered softly. Which was probably not the reaction the three hooligans were expecting.

Neither was anyone of the four expecting they were being watched right now.

 

[Eldin Daine]

Watching the scene unfold in front of him, from the shadows of a metal column, Eldin sighed in frustration as he frowned. He had left a warm bar stool, a stiff whiskey and a Zeltron singer in a tight dress with a great set of .. ‘lungs’ for this. He made a mental note self to smack the deputy that sent him down here on information gained from a friend of friend. Some big-time drug deal this turned out to be.

This was just some hustler, trying to hustle a small group of goons that did not appear to have a brain between them. Eldin could see this going two ways, either the goons would kill the dealer and that meant one less petty drug dealer off the streets or the dealer would kill the goons which meant three less goons off the streets. It was a win win, save the taxpayers some credits and not intervene, nature can take it course, survival of the fittest and all that.

He knew there would be no investigation either way, no matter who turned up dead on the street.

The hustler was a cocky SOB, Eldin had to give him that much, those goons were tough by the looks of them. Hmm. The odds weren’t good for the dealer. He rubbed his stubbled chin, Eldin supposed it would be better to have three down rather than one, the streets would be just that little bit cleaner.

Eldin stepped out from behind his position, as casual as you like leaned a shoulder on it and light a thin cigar with a long draw back. He is Bespin Black Suit, so he was in his rather stylish form fitting black suit which hide his twin pistols.

Now the odds were even.



Wynter Rackham

 

[Wynter Rackham]

Eldin Daine

Wynter was the first one to react, while the other three were flabbergasted.

"Oh, my man, didn't realize you'd be this early." The hustler drawled at ease. "Was just wrapping up business 'ere, but these fine folk were having some concerns, weren't they?" The calculation was already shifting. Three lads, one guy sitting? Sure they could probably hustle that. Another guy popping up from the side and having them right in his visors?

That was a more difficult tell.

Maybe they'd win.

Maybe they'd be left bleeding out.

It was that clear calculation in their eyes that made Wynter smirk. "That's what I thought, but see- I like ya gumption. That spirit so I will give ya an extra little implant, makes it easier to ... well, you know. Sweeten the deal, hm?"

Still a chitty offer where Wynter was making far more than he ought to. But. It was a way out with their pride intact. Act like this was exactly what they needed to seal the deal.

"...yeah, now we talkin'..." Nervous eyes glancing to Eldin every couple of seconds, before they started swapping commodities. At least if the Ranger didn't intervene here. He rightly could, of course. If he didn't however? They'd be on their way quickly enough. Every once in a while casting a eye over their shoulder.

"And, what do I call ya, besides mah surprising new guest?"

 

[Eldin Daine]

He flicked the butt of his cigar toward the goons as they walked off. Part of him a little disappointed they did not try and take the pair on, but at least no blood was spilled and there would not be awkward questions back at HQ. What was worse was there had been nothing to gain from all this, the cocky SOB appeared to be just a petty criminal, nothing that was worth his while cuffing and taking up down. The paperwork would take an hour and that was valuable drinking time.

“Sheriff Eldin Daine, OPA Judge”, sometimes it best not to ask questions you might not like the answer to, the guy was either going to leg it, or soil his breeches. By now he was standing in front of the dealer. “Ya gotta name?”.

Eldin was a jittery type, he liked to pace. It was always good to keep on the move just in case the goons had a change of heart.

“Ya done for the night cause I wanna get outter here and back to drink. And a word of advice, this courtyard is been monitored”. If he hadn’t guessed already. Another lap around the yard and Eldin was satisfied the goons were long gone.

He started toward the way he came, and beyond that to the lifts that would take him back to his bar stool, and hangover in progress.

“Ya comin’?”.


Wynter Rackham

 

[Wynter Rackham]

"Be a pleasure, mistah Sheriff Eldin Daine..." Wyn murmured with a smile. For some reason that admission didn't seem to worry him. "Captain Wynter Rackham, at ya service."

If Daine was around for the Bespin crisis he might know of the name.

It was Rackham who had been recruited by Jacquetta Janvrin briefly. Deputized, even. To serve as an assistant for ORION while they were tracking down the bombs in the tunnels of Cloud City. It had been a mess and a half. After that Wynter had stayed on for a few more days. Helped keeping order, getting things into shape. Some in ORION had tried to recruit him for reals after that.

Declined it.

Of course.

Wynter was a free birb and would never lock himself down like that. Not anymore. "Oh, monitored, really?" Eyes wide, blinking, as if he was surprised but the tone suggested otherwise. "Must'a picked da wrong spot then, thank ya, won't make the same mistake next time." He light up a cigarette, offering one to Eldin as well, if he was done with his.

Then a laugh there.

"Course, Sheriff, I ain't the one to decline a drink." Following along as he picked up his little bag. Making it disappear into the folds of his suit. Of course, this entire thing was sketch from the start.

What was a man like Wynter Rackham doing here? Peddling chit drugs to ruffians without any back-up? In the middle of a monitored zone.

Nothing of it was adding up.

They settled into the lifts, Wyn leaning into the corner, watching with hole they would be coming out of. "Ooh, Jacky's be ya usual drinking haunt? Good place, nice drinks. I dig it." Wynter shot him a disarming smile while taking another puff from his cigarette.

 

[Eldin Daine]

“Wouldn’t be seen dead down here, Captain”, Jacky’s, he had never heard of it. But something new was worth a try, surely there was not some bar worse than anything he had visited on Nar Shaddaa before. But he followed the guy. Wynter Rackham, that was a name familiar to him. “We met before?”.

Well he was wrong, walking into Jacky’s confirmed the worse bar in the galaxy. “Nah my regular is top side. Solace Vine, ya heard of it? Run by the Perls”. He should have insisted.

This was a depressing place, not one person lifted their heads up from the drinks as they entered. There was a heavy scent of drugs and despair and lost hope swirling in the bottom of their empty glasses. The bar keep was actually pleased to see them, someone new had entered and hopefully these new people had actual credits on them.

After ordering and leaning casually against the bar, “What ya doin’ sellin’ that crap down here?”. He didn’t look hard up for cash. A slight tinkle of a bell in the back of his mind insisted this guy was connected with ORION. They didn’t pay badly, so what was this guy’s story?

Eldin took a sip of whiskey, and almost choked on the stuff, “Tastes like it came outta the back of a bantha”.


Wynter Rackham

 

[Wynter Rackham]

Eldin Daine

"Doubt it, Sheriff, I am great with faces an'..." Sitting down, before flashing Eldin a smirk. "Someone as dapper as ya I'd definitely remember." A tease, flirtation, mock? All of it combined?

Difficult to gauge in this situation.

He ordered himself an ale and laughed there. "Oh, yah, that's muuuch more fancy than Jacky's, but..." A wink to the barkeep who grinned. Barely had any teeth left in Jacky's mouth. Black and gaping. "-ask for da special, it will knock ya off ya boots for sure." It would probably also burn clean his throat, but that was a different question altogether.

A shrug.

"It does taste like da, yeah, but... is cheap and gets ya buzzin', ya?" Wyn's time in the army had burned his taste buds clear. Or so he hoped anyway. The One Sith had never been about proper rationing after all.

"As for what I was doin'... look at it like setting a lure, hm?" Tapping the bar absently before accepting his drink. Taking a sip and shuddering slightly. Okay, yeah, even after all this time it still wasn't getting any better. "That area ya found me in is controlled by a specific lil' chit. Dapper Johnny Delta. I was hoping to lure him out by peddlin' obviously in his territory."

Sniffing there at the smoke from the guy near them.

Wyn coughed.

"So, what were ya doing there, dear Sheriff? Ain't exactly near ya usual lawful grounds." Smirk.

 

[Eldin Daine]

Eldin attempted another sip at the swill. Brow raised toward Wynnie over the rim of the dirty glass at being called dapper. First time for everything he supposed. “I’ll stick to this”, nosed wrinkled at the burn, certainly was not cause of the taste, there wasn’t any.

A lure? Now Eldin was not buy this story. Not of any sense of justice or law enforcement, after all this guy was not a judge. Not regular anyway. “Bigger fish huh?”. Maybe there had been some clout in the information from the deputy’s source after all.

“Why ya want him?”, what was in it for him. “What ya gettin’ outta this”. Dapper Johnny Delta? Now the initial ‘compliment’ sounded like an insult. Intended or not. Eldin reached for his packet of thin cigars and lit up adding the to heady mix in the place. Took no notice of Wynnie coughing.

“Want one?”.

Eldin sighed, what was he doing here, a good question, by now he would have been having a nice Zeltron heady mix of pheromones and legs. “Workin’ a lead, gotchya instead”. And he was the only judge the deputy could track down.

"Come on Wynnie, whatcha really doin' down here". Turning to the keep, Eldin pointed to the glasses for a refill.


Wynter Rackham

 

[Wynter Rackham]

Eldin Daine

"Nah, tryin' to quit, thankya very much tho." Taking a deeper sip before turning around in the chair. Back to the counter, leaning a bit. The smoke was still trailing around him but he managed to ignore it.

For now.

"Mmm, well," A smirk cast Eldin's way. "That be a lot of question, mistah Sheriff, but let's jus' say that Dapper John is a threat to mah own business. Sadly he dun' come out much these days." Which was often how it happened. You had your little wee lad. Full of braveness and piss. Then when they get older and softer they start hunkering down.

Private estates, chit like that, relying on their reputation.

But what happens when you piss on said reputation? Start wrecking your hard-hitting reputation?

Exactly.

Accepting the refill with a grin. Oh, he liked Eldin already, which was amusing since they hadn't chatted for more than 10 minutes at this point. But it was just an easy chat. Which was dangerous in its own way.

"Think ya might be reading too many detectives... detective." Playfully poking Eldin in the shoulder. "But sure, why dontcha help me, eh? Let's finish this ale together an' find some problems, hm? Can probably take out a gang leader at the same time."

 

[Eldin Daine]

Too many questions, “Comes with the territory”, Eldin spoke into his drink, and eyed the man sitting next to him. He let the man spills the beans, about his own business, which depending on what that was as to whether Eldin snapped the cuffs on him. Let the man talk.

Eldin looked at the finger poking his shoulder and put down his glass. “What. Exactly. Is ya line of business?”. He didn’t mind getting into a little business sideline to swell the coffers, cheating at card games, rigging a fight, smuggling here and there, running guns to the right people, mostly ‘harmless’ stuff.

The idea of helping was appealing, especially if he had something to show for this ‘night out’. At least it would not be a complete waste of time and lack of pretty company. “Alright, I’ll help”, he threw back the last of his whiskey.

“But if ya running drugs, I pop a cap in ya ass”, he slammed the glass on the bar and hiss with pain of the burn.

“Damn that is shit”. The bar keep seemed to take it as a compliment.

Eldin slide off his bar stool, checked his twin pistols as was his habit and headed for the door. "I take it, ya have a plan".

Let's see where this leads, at the end of the night Eldin might have two perps to bring in. Or dead, either or.


Wynter Rackham