Ragos Terrek
a.k.a. Ghost
Ragos Terrek with pool cue in hand leaned against a wall of The Mynock’s Den. No, not a literal den of mynocks, though that may have been larger, more comfortable, better furnished, and have superior air quality to the chit hole bar he found himself in tonight…or uh…this morning. The Mynock’s Den that Ragos was busy shooting pool in was older than The Force and as out of the way as out of the way got but on twenty-two-sixty-nine it was hard to find places where you could trust the drinks to not be watered down with used oil or you could trust if you went inside you could reasonably expect to come out again in relatively the same condition. Plus he had found a steady client base inside for his product and it was good business for the boss to show his face every once in a while. Tonight however wasn’t about business but it was about credits and he was raking them in as game after game he was smoking fool after fool on the felt.
“Hey, hey, excuse me.” A man said approaching Ragos and his group of friends as they loitered around the pool table, drinks in hand, and laughing. They were all young Korunai men and they all worked for Ragos who was also Korunai and a rising star and leader in the Killa Korunai street gang. Established on Nar Shaddaa Two-K as the gang was commonly known, ran several levels of the moon with their fingers in many enterprises, speeder jackings, pimping, gambling, assaults, but most profitable of all was spice and they were relentless in their desire to be the top game in town. Beatings, stabbings, shootings, and outright murder and more were all acceptable in pursuit of ruling the spice game and that game had brought Ragos to Coruscant where he and other members of his gang were looking to carve out a new market.
“You looking for a game old man?” Ragos asked the guy who had walked up on them. He was human, clean shaven, dark black hair that had grayed on the temples and was dressed suspiciously nice for a dump like The Den. Ragos clocked him rocking expensive leather shoes.--ronto, if he had to guess– clean well fitting pants and shirt with a suit jacket and a slick mahogany colored trench coat.
“Kark, I look like huh? You’re Ghost right?” The man said strangely confrontationally.
“Kark’s it mean to you?” Ragos said standing up fully and white knuckling the pool cue.
“You want to make some credits, kid?” The guy asked.
“Man, get the feth outta here.” Ragos threatened.
“You’re going to want to listen to me on this.” The old man said.
“Why’s that?”
“Because kid, I was hoping you could help me with some Family trouble. You understand what I’m saying to you?”
Ragos understood all too fething well what he was saying. In native Korunai Ragos dismissed the other gang members from round him so he could talk to this guy alone.
“You’re smart.” The old man said with a laugh waving a finger at Ragos.
“What’s your trouble and why you think I can help you?” Ragos asked
“Well you see, Ghost, you don’t mind me calling you that right or is that just for the homeboys?” The guy asked clearly now, enjoying poking fun at Ragos. Ragos didn’t answer and this guy just sat there silent until he made a face and a gesture with his hands that indicated this conversation was going nowhere until he got his answer.
“Yeah, chit man, Ghost is cool.” Ragos said barely holding onto his patience.
“Beautiful. Now, Ghost, my trouble concerns a friend of mine and a friend of some of your friends, if you catch my meaning. This friend of your friends, well, he was found out to be not such a good friend after all, he’s got a big karking mouth, you understand?”
“Yeah, I karking understand.” The Family had a rat.
“Now, I don’t just think you can help me with this problem. I know you can and I know you can because there is a bucket of credits in it for you, and I know, just like you know, that you need them credits, Am I right?”
“Chit, yeah but—” Ragos started to say when the guy put his hand up gesturing for him to quit speaking
“Say no more. say no more.” He said, pulling out a stack of credits and setting them on the side of the pool table
“No chit.” Ragos said, stunned. He had to be looking at five thousand credits just right there.
“There’s more once you tells me that our mutual acquaintance is take care of, you understand?” The stranger said laying his hand protectively over the stack of credits
“Oh I fething understand.” Ragos said not bothering to sound anything but eager.
“I knew you would, I knew you would.” The guy said with a smile and a friendly punch on the arm.
“Yo this friend of yours got a name, an address, chit like that?” Ragos asked.
“He does, his name is Kasssk…”
“Wait, he’s a fething Dosh?” Ragos interrupted voice filled with disgust.
“Ooohhh.” The old guy said sharply in shock and horror. “You some kind of bigot or somethin’ kid? Yeah, the guy is of the reptilian persuasion but that ain’t the issue. The issue is he is a kriffing junkie and got jammed up by CSF. He can’t be trusted and so here we are you and me having this little talk. Lemme tell you summin kid, don’t go and judge people for their birth huh. Judge ‘em by what you can get out of ‘em.”
Ragos had no love for any Dosh but he had to admit it wasn’t bad advice.
“Now.” The guy continued. “I don’t know where our friend is. If I did well, we wouldn’t be paying so much. There are a few options. On level one thousand there is a like a nest he frequents. It’s a four story building loaded with trandoshan junkies, that is maybe the worst place to look yeah?”
“Or maybe he is hanging around the port hoping to run off world, now I know you’re thinking ‘why not let him?’ well him in the wind, knowing what he knows, it ain’t good.”
“Or when the big bastard is desperate for credits, he shows up at this grimey warehouse where they hold these no holds barred fights. Sometimes he fights, sometimes he just bets but those are the three places I can think of kid. Good luck.” Somehow this guy made well wishing sound like a threat.
“Make sure this happens kid or Kasssk ain’t gonna be the only one dealing with hard times.”
And cue music with slick opening credit sequence
Harvey Denson
Vol.1
“Hey, hey, excuse me.” A man said approaching Ragos and his group of friends as they loitered around the pool table, drinks in hand, and laughing. They were all young Korunai men and they all worked for Ragos who was also Korunai and a rising star and leader in the Killa Korunai street gang. Established on Nar Shaddaa Two-K as the gang was commonly known, ran several levels of the moon with their fingers in many enterprises, speeder jackings, pimping, gambling, assaults, but most profitable of all was spice and they were relentless in their desire to be the top game in town. Beatings, stabbings, shootings, and outright murder and more were all acceptable in pursuit of ruling the spice game and that game had brought Ragos to Coruscant where he and other members of his gang were looking to carve out a new market.
“You looking for a game old man?” Ragos asked the guy who had walked up on them. He was human, clean shaven, dark black hair that had grayed on the temples and was dressed suspiciously nice for a dump like The Den. Ragos clocked him rocking expensive leather shoes.--ronto, if he had to guess– clean well fitting pants and shirt with a suit jacket and a slick mahogany colored trench coat.
“Kark, I look like huh? You’re Ghost right?” The man said strangely confrontationally.
“Kark’s it mean to you?” Ragos said standing up fully and white knuckling the pool cue.
“You want to make some credits, kid?” The guy asked.
“Man, get the feth outta here.” Ragos threatened.
“You’re going to want to listen to me on this.” The old man said.
“Why’s that?”
“Because kid, I was hoping you could help me with some Family trouble. You understand what I’m saying to you?”
Ragos understood all too fething well what he was saying. In native Korunai Ragos dismissed the other gang members from round him so he could talk to this guy alone.
“You’re smart.” The old man said with a laugh waving a finger at Ragos.
“What’s your trouble and why you think I can help you?” Ragos asked
“Well you see, Ghost, you don’t mind me calling you that right or is that just for the homeboys?” The guy asked clearly now, enjoying poking fun at Ragos. Ragos didn’t answer and this guy just sat there silent until he made a face and a gesture with his hands that indicated this conversation was going nowhere until he got his answer.
“Yeah, chit man, Ghost is cool.” Ragos said barely holding onto his patience.
“Beautiful. Now, Ghost, my trouble concerns a friend of mine and a friend of some of your friends, if you catch my meaning. This friend of your friends, well, he was found out to be not such a good friend after all, he’s got a big karking mouth, you understand?”
“Yeah, I karking understand.” The Family had a rat.
“Now, I don’t just think you can help me with this problem. I know you can and I know you can because there is a bucket of credits in it for you, and I know, just like you know, that you need them credits, Am I right?”
“Chit, yeah but—” Ragos started to say when the guy put his hand up gesturing for him to quit speaking
“Say no more. say no more.” He said, pulling out a stack of credits and setting them on the side of the pool table
“No chit.” Ragos said, stunned. He had to be looking at five thousand credits just right there.
“There’s more once you tells me that our mutual acquaintance is take care of, you understand?” The stranger said laying his hand protectively over the stack of credits
“Oh I fething understand.” Ragos said not bothering to sound anything but eager.
“I knew you would, I knew you would.” The guy said with a smile and a friendly punch on the arm.
“Yo this friend of yours got a name, an address, chit like that?” Ragos asked.
“He does, his name is Kasssk…”
“Wait, he’s a fething Dosh?” Ragos interrupted voice filled with disgust.
“Ooohhh.” The old guy said sharply in shock and horror. “You some kind of bigot or somethin’ kid? Yeah, the guy is of the reptilian persuasion but that ain’t the issue. The issue is he is a kriffing junkie and got jammed up by CSF. He can’t be trusted and so here we are you and me having this little talk. Lemme tell you summin kid, don’t go and judge people for their birth huh. Judge ‘em by what you can get out of ‘em.”
Ragos had no love for any Dosh but he had to admit it wasn’t bad advice.
“Now.” The guy continued. “I don’t know where our friend is. If I did well, we wouldn’t be paying so much. There are a few options. On level one thousand there is a like a nest he frequents. It’s a four story building loaded with trandoshan junkies, that is maybe the worst place to look yeah?”
“Or maybe he is hanging around the port hoping to run off world, now I know you’re thinking ‘why not let him?’ well him in the wind, knowing what he knows, it ain’t good.”
“Or when the big bastard is desperate for credits, he shows up at this grimey warehouse where they hold these no holds barred fights. Sometimes he fights, sometimes he just bets but those are the three places I can think of kid. Good luck.” Somehow this guy made well wishing sound like a threat.
“Make sure this happens kid or Kasssk ain’t gonna be the only one dealing with hard times.”
And cue music with slick opening credit sequence
Harvey Denson
Vol.1