Heaven Upside Down

[Jacob Crawford]

​

The criminal underworld was not something Jacob thought he’d ever find himself becoming involved with. Years of his childhood had built up a distaste; a hatred, for what it had done to his family. His father turned into a drunk and gambler with debts up to his neck courtesy of the Hutt Cartel.

But that hardly mattered these days after seeing to his father rotting at the bottom of Nar Shaddaa.

That anger had simmered away over time, perspective gained with age. And while Jacob had made a point to never find himself in a similar situation, he would take the lessons he had gleamed from that time. Ones that he hadn’t realized as a child would provide valuable knowledge.

It was why he had decided to visit Point Nadir, his aim to make a purchase, but also to familiarize himself with this side of the galaxy. Early on while he was prepping for his experiments on Maena, Jacob had discovered it was particularly difficult to purchase drugs in bulk, at least not without drawing the attention of certain groups and individuals. So his focus shifted over to the black market, finding a lot more desirable items there than he would through legitimate means.

And it had certainly highlighted how creative the underworld could be when it came to creating new drugs.

Jacob stepped down from his ship’s ramp. For today's purposes he wasn't a Sith, or rather he fully intended on not revealing such and drawing even further attention to himself. He had concealed the corruption; amber shifting back to green. Dressed in casual clothing like any other Joe on the station. His lightsaber was absent, replaced with a blaster and a few knives on his belt.

Now it was just a matter of finding his way to the designated place. Prior to arriving, he had stretched out some feelers to see who was around and willing to sell. But that was the extent of which he reached out, not wanting to keep his hand out there for too long. Otherwise the sharks would come swimming

And at this point, Jacob would much rather not lose another hand.

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

If you wanted to get lots of drugs, fast, Nadir was as good a place as any. The Bazaar was teeming with merchants of all stripes and colors, selling everything a glitterstim heart could ever want. From low-end cut spice to stuff that could knock you out cold for hours if you mismeasured the hit. Shady vendors beckoned from side-alleys; others bellowed right in the open, stalls laden with illicit goods that would be seized on any reputable market.

But not here.

Freedom – true freedom, none of that censored, government-spoonfed bullshet – always came at a price. It meant everyone had the liberty to live as they pleased, and the liberty to die by the same token. No excuses. No exceptions.

It lent the shadowport a particular je ne sais quoi. It wasn’t quite a smell, nor was it a sound. But there was the subtle thrum of a heart below the din of transaction – of goods, of power, of words, of soul.

And, sometimes, drugs.

Erida Teheron wasn’t the sort of woman who ever experienced boredom. Her time was split between work, the necessary meal, and a few hours of sleep. She did not socialize. She did not smile. Her only excursion outside the towering checks and lists and tables was her weekly stroll through the Arcade, where bloody credits paid for slave-made extravagance.

If you were going to peddle death, you could at least do it in style. A well-dressed skeleton to shake your hand when you left the office – richer, perhaps, but forever robbed of human dignity.

[member="Jacob Crawford"]​

 

[Jacob Crawford]

It reminded him of Nar Shaddaa.

Maybe a bit more refined, he wasn't entirely sure. The Smuggler's Moon was the only other example hew knew, of a large, sprawling den of the criminal underworld. He had spent eleven years of his life there, forced into working, into illegal child fighting rings. All the while his father wasted away the credits with gambling and alcohol.

Point Nadir appeared like more of the same, at least to Jacob anyway. Different shades of the same colour, with several licks of paint layered on top of one another.

There was a sense of freedom, no denying that. But he felt as though he was being watched all the same, and that wasn't referring the various pairs of eyes that tracked his path through The Bazaar. Different vendors flapping their lips with mercantile speal, trying to get him to buy their product.

If this place was anything like Nar Shaddaa, then this was just as equally a chess board. It's pieces consisting of goods, power and influence. Players hidden in the shadows keeping an eye on things. One wrong move, and you'd find yourself deep in debt or one of the bodies littering the streets.

Jacob kept his head down as he moved through the marketplace. He gave a cursory glance here and there. His mind focused on trying to navigate the maze like levels that made up Point Nadir. He knew his destination; The Arcade, but it was matter of finding it.
All the while a lightly armoured figured tailed behind, presently leaning against a wall watching through a helmet's visor as Jacob carried on.

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

Presently, Miss Teheron was filing her nails. The deep blue polish waited for a later application next to the datapad her gaze was glued to.

Most people on Nadir couldn’t afford to be this careless about their situational awareness. In truth, neither was she – though one would be hard-pressed to notice, her black eyes darted around the room every couple of seconds.

Not that it was absolutely necessary. This office, like all the rest scattered about the station, was teeming with security. Force of habit persisted long after she’d risen through the ranks to this prestigious position, however. Used to be she trailed behind that fat Meron cow, glancing over her shoulder every second breath for any unwelcome guests.

They came, eventually, like she’d always known they would. Except instead of putting one through her forehead, they hired her instead.

Couldn’t say she was complaining.

[member="Jacob Crawford"]

 

[Jacob Crawford]

As Jacob moved around yet another corner, he felt that itch at the back of his head return.

He wasn't sure whether that was because his mind was slipping. Or whether it was all the various fumes that were lingering the air.

Either way it was clear that his normal senses had dulled now that he wasn't relying on the Force currently. Especially as a mentalist, one who was use to using the outlying thoughts of those around him to alert him of any potential danger.

Any other time, Jacob would've picked up on the armoured figure following him, watching as he finally found another elevator that would hopefully take him to his destination.

The person in question had stopped after that, remaining silent for a moment before they activated the commlink built into the helmet.

"Yes ma'am, it's him. He's just taken an elevator to the Arcade District...understood. I'll alert the others."

Their job was done now; tailing after the target. Now it was up to the others to take the baton and ambush their boss' target.

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

Nails filed to perfection. Reports filed to perfection, too. (Oh, the joys of Galactic Basic. Such a horrid mishap of a language – Umbarese was clearly superior in every conceivable way.)

Teheron expelled the sigh of the long-suffering and ran her eyes over the holodisplays again. One of those fancy setups that you could only see from one side, too. Why it always looked like her desk was sterile like an operating table.

Come to think of it, this was Nadir – it’d probably been used as such sometime in the past.

Thin lips turned thinner as she considered this distinct possibility. Black eyes scanned the empty white surface, as if she could pick out where someone’s guts had spilled out five years ago. How… unpleasant.

Spindly fingers brushed away an invisible speck as her gaze returned to the flitting screens. Data, numbers, balances. And, right down in the right corner, a clock display.

Five more minutes to the next item on her schedule. Some Maenite, here for drugs. Wasn’t everyone?

Erida stood and left to make herself a cup of caf.


[member="Jacob Crawford"]

 

[Jacob Crawford]

The Arcade District seemed like a completely different place in comparison to the Bazaar, namely it was a lot more quieter. The shouting merchants were replaced with the mechanical racket of the various casinos around.

Chatter from the diners littered about.

And a general buzz amongst the crowds that moved through the streets.

Unfortunately the company wasn't getting any better, at least from what Jacob could see. Each time he moved past a street; an intersection, at least one or two men suddenly peeled out from the shadows and tried blending in with the crowd. Right now, he counted at least five were now following him, and Jacob only reaction was to roll his eyes.

Another ambush, really?

This made it the third time now. One would think they would get a clue and not risk the lives of their men.

But then, Lillian has proven herself to be stubborn...

Jacob pressed on however, shifting through the crowds until he reached the designated building. Somewhere within was a specific office he was suppose to find, and hopefully the would-be ambushers weren't going to follow.

Maybe.

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

There were no windows in the office for obvious sniper-related reasons. So instead of enjoying a beautiful view of the Nadir vista – smog, erratic traffic, the occasional blaster bolt – Teheron was back at her desk. The cuppa was swirling its enticing aroma into the air while thin fingers typed away at the holokeys, noiseless.

:: Miss T? ::

Erida paused, looking up from her screen to engage her comlink. “Yes, Veslan?”

:: Your six o‘clock is here. He’s got a tail though. ::

“Problem?”

:: They don’t look like friendlies, ma’am. ::

The representative frowned at her display, eyes flicking over to the cameras. Five individuals were gaining on [member="Jacob Crawford"], who had already passed the inspection in the lobby.

“If they lack any credentials, divert them at the door. Shoot them if they try anything.”

:: And if they got credentials? ::

“Then send them up to the wrong floor and have Agadin detain them. Let me know if you gain any useful information before you dispose of their bodies.”

:: Noted, Miss T. Incomin’ ::

Wrapping her palms around the warm mug, the umbaran returned to her seat. Then she took a sip, settled her black gaze on the door, and waited.

 

[Jacob Crawford]

Jacob had made it through the inspection without issue, and it thankfully gave him a breather.

He looked back from his place in the lobby, watching as one of the men came running up to near the security only to halt in his tracks. Then another, and another and finally the last two caught up.

Each of them glared at him, and Jacob refrained from returning the gesture. Instead he just smirked, and gave them a mocking salute.

The small group seemed to talk amongst themselves, what about Jacob could only guess and honestly didn't particularly care. He was on one side, they were on the other. As such he turned on his heel and headed further into the building.

Fortunately for the group, they did indeed have valid credentials. Unfortunately however, it would be the end of the road for them.

Jacob eventually found the place he needed to be at, an office where he was told he had been told he'd meet a 'Miss Teheron'.

With a quick straightening of his clothes, Jacob knocked on the door.

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

‘Agadin’ in fact stood for a much longer name that nobody could pronounce if they weren’t drunk or herglic.

“Bjelgor Šimejon Agadinov,” the giant offered with a good-natured smile as the five were brought before him. “Welcome to Nadir.”

The would-be pursuers of one [member="Jacob Crawford"] didn’t fall in either of those categories. But— they didn’t have to. The only words the massive head of security would desire from the captive humanoids were where, who, and why.

And if they answered nice and quick, they’d get the same kind of death.

Fair trade.

Several floors and insulated walls higher, a woman quirked a brow at the knock. The doors slid open a few moments later – the front ones, at least. There was a small intermediary chamber between both blast doors, where the visitor was subjected to a far more rigorous scan. Somewhere, an important light turned green, and the man was allowed entrance.

There was no chair. Miss Teheron believed in the swiftness of the meeting, not the comfort of the guest.

“Mr. Crawford. You’re here to purchase drugs.” Her black eyes settled on his pale face. “Well then. Regale me.”

 

[Jacob Crawford]

It seemed Jacob's previous assumptions had been inaccurate, especially so when the doors had slid open to reveal a small chamber that blocked the way into the room itself. It was apparent that who he was dealing with were quite thorough with their vetting.

Jacob stepped through the doorway and remained silent as he stood in the middle of the chamber.

There was barely any sound, but it was obvious that he was being scanned. And the tension fell over him when it was over, seconds passed until there was a snap-hiss of the second door as it slid open.

He walked in, arms slipping behind his back as he approached Teheron.

Immediately he took note of the chair, or the lack of one anyway. It gave the room a certain air to it, of being immediate and a lack of any comfort or fluff. Straight to business.

Jacob could certainly appreciate that.

"That I am, Miss Teheron." He stopped just before the desk, his green eyes settling on the Umbaran. "While Maena's ecosystem has access to many different drugs, I desire to expand further; specifically with hallucinogens." There were certainly several located on the planet that fit the bill perfectly, but Jacob needed more, he needed to experiment with as many different ones as possible. All to see how a person's mind worked while under their influence. "I've come to you because I wish to buy them in bulk, to experiment with."

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

Black nails clicked as she tapped her fingers. Once, twice. Miss Teheron steepled her fingers and tilted her head, like a bird of prey might consider its next meal from its perch on high.

“You must understand we should like to see our business interests secured,” the pale woman spoke, unblinking. “To what end will you be experimenting, Mr. Crawford?”

Her face didn’t move at all as she leaned forward. “And what is our gain in this… substantial investment?”

[member="Jacob Crawford"]​

 

[Jacob Crawford]

Jacob remained unflinching in both stance and emotion as he returned Teheron's stare. His face a neutral mask as he listened to what she had to say.

"Of course," he began nodding his head ever slightly. "My experiments range from observations of subjects under controlled doses, in controlled environments. But the main intention; the goal, is to see what makes the drugs tick in someone's mind, then take that specific component and blend it into a cocktail." It would be a slow process, and Jacob imagined it would never be perfected, but he had a set goal in mind to reach - where he'd be satisfied with the result.

"And what to gain?" He paused for a moment, more for effect rather than needing to think about it. "On a base level, a frequent customer. Should the provided drugs prove to have something I require, than you can be certain I will be purchasing more in time. And even when I have my desired result, I will still be manufacturing it and as such I'll need more drugs to deconstruct."

If this were anyone else; or maybe just someone with a chair to sit in, Jacob would've probably taken the moment to lean back in it with a smile on his face. Instead he remained stoic, but there was a particular glint in his eyes.

"Long term, well I'm going to need an avenue in which to distribute and sell."

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

Long digits untangled to key something in on the holodisplay. Her eyes never left the stock-still man.

“And which opiates would you like to purchase, Mr. Crawford? In what quantities?” This time, she did look away, if only briefly. With a keen gaze, Miss Teheron took in the tabulated information arranged all over her screens. Some from CFFC, some from Korribean Caf, some from the shady lot from Rishi – Coratanni. There were plenty of other, smaller names, all coded for her convenience.

Anyone else would just see columns of numbers and gibberish.

“Long term, we look to clients who do not bring ill-disposed, armed men to meetings,” Erida spoke. “Are you embroiled in some sort of conflict, Mr. Crawford? We should like to see it resolved before we enter any serious business relations. I’m sure you understand.”


[member="Jacob Crawford"]

 

[Jacob Crawford]

He watched quietly as Teheron looked away for a moment, keeping eyes ever on him despite whatever she was doing.

"Hmm, well it will depend on what exactly you have available. But I'm solely looking for ones that will addle the user's mind, ranging from short to long term effects." Jacob paused to think for a moment. "The quantities will depend on how much is available and the cost, but generally I'm looking to buy at least a crate or two." After all he still needed to test the drugs, see if any of them had something he was looking for. If they did, then the quantity would certainly increase.

Jacob raised an eyebrow ever slightly, giving away a moment of surprise. Then he grinned, a trace of malicious intent lingering in the expression.
"They got caught then? Good." There was no denying that he was pleased by this development, though obviously Erida and the company she represented weren't exactly keen. "It's a minor thing, a nuisance that's been trying to nip at my heels for a while now."

Not exactly something Miss Teheron probably wanted to hear from a prospective client, but it was then that an idea came to Jacob.

"I presume the captured men are being presently interrogated?"

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

A single black eyebrow rose at [member="Jacob Crawford"], perfectly trimmed. “Two crates?” At this point in the conversation, a lesser negotiator (or a more human one, at any rate) would’ve allowed a smile.

“Mr. Crawford. That is a substantial investment.” Drugs paid by weight, after all, not quantity. And drugs were light.

“Where would you like your purchase shipped to?”

"I presume the captured men are being presently interrogated?"

Miss Teheron glanced at the clock. Ten minutes and change since their unwanted guests had arrived into Agadin’s lap.

“Those men are dead.”

Appearances could be deceiving, and the herglic was nothing so crude as a torturer. He was a master of his craft, and though much more subtle, it was just as brutal.

Bjelgor Šimejon Agadinov was a mentalist.

 

[Jacob Crawford]

"Oh, I'm very much aware of that Miss Teheron. You'd be surprised at how quickly we churn through supplies." It had been a lesson Jacob had learned quite quickly during the initial batch of tests with a different supply of drugs. "So many variables to test and experiment on, that and once one of them is used it's effectively useless." Efficiency was something Jacob and his people were going to need to learn real quick, otherwise things were going to get very expensive, very quickly.

"Maena, past the Wastelands." Jacob reached into his back pocket and pulled out a datachip, placing it on the desk and sliding it over to Erida. It would contain the specific coordinates to the Asylum's hangar.

“Those men are dead.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes also lingering over at the clock realizing how much time had already passed. He wasn't sure whether he should be impressed or not. Either the men had squealed easily, or hadn't budge and were simply killed after a time.

Something told Jacob that the latter wasn't the case. Meaning there was little point not saying anything, especially if they were already in the know of who exactly they were.

"Good, maybe it will finally teach her a lesson to not keep coming after me." He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, knowing it probably won't be the last. "Lillian Crawford; my half-sister's goons. From what I've gathered as of late, is she's a low-time crime boss who had been riding on our father's coattails for years. Now in the wake of his death, she's been after me."

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

Her lips pinched, but her sharp digits continued to click silently against the holokeyboard. “I doubt that, Mr. Crawford. We’ve been in this business for a long time.” She paused, looking up to meet his green gaze. “Surprise is the one thing no-one can afford. Not if they wish to thrive.”

With a few decisive strokes, Teheron finalized the order. “Your desired supplies will be delivered… between eleven and twelve hundred hours tomorrow.” They had facilities and a strong presence on Maena. A short trip across the Wasteland was all it would take.

“You understand we cannot clean up your problems for you, Mr. Crawford.” She steepled her fingers, leaning forward across the desk. “Unless you hire us, of course.”

[member="Jacob Crawford"]​

 

[Jacob Crawford]

Jacob remained silent for awhile, eyes focused on Teheron but his thoughts were elsewhere.

Their original dealing was finished, the drugs had been brought and would be delivered. But it seemed his time here was not yet over. A choice laid before him, either end it now and walk away or take up the offer that was being put in the table.

He hadn't the time to fully pursue chasing down his half-sister, and more often resigned to capturing the odd mercenary to interrogate, searching through their mind for any new information he could find.

"If I were to hire you, I'd presume you'll be wanting a cut of what's taken in the end?" Jacob had no qualms with splitting the loot, he was certainly one who believed in a fair payment for services given. That, and it would ultimately be to get Lillian off his back rather than scooping up whatever credits and assets she had built up.

That was if they could even find the woman. So far amongst all of Jacob's efforts, he had only learned that Lillian never spoke to her men directly, rather through encrypted channels. Maybe if all her stuff she had worked towards was suddenly being pulled up from the roots, perhaps that would finally get her to surface.

​

[member="Aver Brand"]​

 

[Aver Brand]

Could it be? Did her lips twitch, but for the briefest of instants?

Probably just a trick of light.

Or the spice in the air, addling the mind.

Certainly, Miss Teheron can’t have smiled.

That would be absurd.

“You presume correctly. Liquidating assets of that sort requires an operation of a certain… size. Leaving them to rot would certainly be a shame. We would simply make sure no good criminal foundation goes to waste.”

Her black eyes moved from the man back to the screen, pausing there for a moment. She consulted a particular schedule. If she were a shade more human, she might’ve allowed for a cold grin at this point.

“What will it be, Mr. Crawford? Will you avail yourself of the best mercenaries the galaxy has to offer? Or do you prefer to be worn out and hunted down in a war of attrition?”

[member="Jacob Crawford"]​