High Hopes (Kiber Dorn)

[Cryax Bane]

Location: Dragon Palace Casino, Cryax Bane's office

No matter how many of the blasted things that Cryax Bane took, it seemed like the painkillers weren’t doing the trick. The Red Ravens President had a number of different ailments stemming from a few long days of torture at the hands of a Yuuzhan Vong overlord and even though a month had passed since his hospital stint, the young Chiss still felt like Dredge’s broken toy. Cryax had still-healing scars on his back and chest, cracked ribs that were still resetting, and cybernetic legs that his body was still adjusting to. Basically his everything hurt, which was why he had made some Holocalls and arranged for a drug dealer known as Kiber Dorn to come to his office at the Dragon Palace Casino. His hope? To get his blue-skinned paws on some better product than the scumbags on Antecedent had gotten him.

Cryax's own personal purchases weren't the only order of business he wanted to discuss with Dorn, as Bane wasn't at all pleased with the way his own Antecedent corners were being run. His small-time dealers were too sloppy, and were skimming way too many credits and product off the top. What was worse was that they were all too embroiled in their own petty gang wars, and were simply too busy dying to even push the product. The Ravens needed a professional, and Cryax hoped that Dorn would consider a full time job working for them.

Cryax briefly scanned his glowing red eyes over the information that his team of slicers had gleaned from the Holonet. Dorn sure was good at covering his tracks, and that was a plus, but unfortunately it didn't leave him with much ammo to extort the human into joining his ranks. Human, mid-twenties, pointy-looking, that was really all that Cryax had. Ah well, he’d just have to give the man the hard sell. If worse came to worse, at least he’d get something from Dorn that would ease his pain.

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Well ain't this a step up.

The lower cities of Coruscant was, to put it mildly, a crap hole. Not to diss it too hard, I mean it had it's perks. Little Nar Shaddaa as it was affectionately known was a great place to get lost, probably why the League of Goth Assassins had taken thirteen years to track him down, only flagging him when he took the time to pop up to an orbital station.

The parties were wild, it was the absolute perfect climate to deal spice. Despair and poverty, two large factors that drive people into the arms of their waiting spice dealers.

Free sample?

Nah, it won't hurt. What? That's just media scare stories, ya know?

Bam.

About time something bigger came along. He was at least good at what he did, nah, maybe even great. Longstanding oozer and shmoozer, okay, perhaps less on the shmooze. I mean, okay, sometimes out on the job you get punched in the face but that's standard risk assessment. Better than being shot, or humiliated in McYoda's by the front man for Prakith's forefront Black Metal band, Gutterfrak.

He was escorted through the Dragon Palace Casino with a grin on his face and a skip in his step. Kiber Dorn's punchability had just risen by at least sixty percent. Into the office he had strolled with a nod of the head to those who had shown him to the room, it was a big place, you hear me?

“These are some nice digs, man,” he said with that silver toothed grin, making large flourishes of the hand that accompany such a clichéd line, “I mean real nice.”

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

Kiber Dorn looked like a cocky fellow, thought Cryax as he was escorted into his office by Red Raven goons. The Chiss's office was a pink and cerulean neon lit nightmare of red velvet furniture and dragon motifs, garish decor of which the Chiss wasn't a fan. At all. But it was Lysle Rigger's vision and he respected it. Since the office walls were lined with security droids (paranoid much?), Cryax dismissed the organic goons and gestured to Dorn to have a seat across from him. A serving droid rolled up with a bleep, a glass of whiskey for the Nar Shaddaa drug dealer sitting on its head tray.

The Chiss was dressed in an exquisitely-tailored three piece suit, but although he was well-heeled, these days, Cryax was looking a bit too gaunt, his eyes hollow and his cheeks sunken. Kiber himself had the furtive eyes of a glit-biter and the missing teeth of one as well. Cryax knew the signs. His own brother had that particular monkey on his back. Glitterstim was a helluva drug. Sitting across from each other, the two men made a raggedy pair, thought the Chiss sardonically.

"Thanks, Mr. Dorn." said Cryax grinning widely. "We've put alot of work into the place." The casino was one of the crown jewels of Antecedent and a deep source of pride for the Chiss who had doggedly improved the Red Ravens infamous Cryptnet. "As you know, I'm Cryax Bane, President of the Red Ravens Criminal Syndicate. I've heard youre quite the big time dealer on the pit stain of the galaxy known as Nar Shaddaa. I'll just get right to the point. How would you like to trade up?" He leaned back in his chair, his hands folded behind his head, as he awaited Kiber Dorn's response. Then he hastily added:

"Oh, and I also need a karkload of painkillers."

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

See, there was a nice touch.

Kiber grinned as the small droid came-a-rollin up to him, drink on hand (well, on tray). It was never not time for a drink, and he imagined that the Red Ravens weren't going to skimp on the whisky. It won't be some twelve year old pish that some well meaning girlfriend bought her boyfriend for valentines day, nah, son.

It was probably bottled the day he was born, a fine vintage to be, you know.

Kiber stuck his overly-pointed nose into the glass, finding that one could smell the flavours of a whisky a lot more than taste. Hey, I won't lie, it's a quite hard to catch those amber notes when your mouth is on fire.

“Just call me Kiber, pal,” he said, swirling the glass around in the palm of his hand like a right pillock, “Mr. Dorn is my aunt. She's transitioning, we don't really talk about it."

Because the line, Mr. Dorn is my father was just far too easy.

Green eyes practically glimmered at the mention of trading up. This is what every small-time drug dealer dreamt of. It was a career path like any other, you started at the bottom as a scrub and climbed each increasingly illicit rung. He took a sip of the amber liquid, indeed noting the qualities of fire but actually managing to detect a touch of the shuura fruit too.

Nice.

“Well, naturally, trading up is the dream, but we'll talk painkillers first if you're needin', 'Ryax,” he smirked, showcasing his habit of using nicknames rather than formal titles. Kiber's dictionary lacked the word respect. “You wantin' hospital grade, or would you rather be flyin' your kite*?”

*Flyin' your kite of course was a Kiber Dorn-used term that denoted being very very very very bloody high.

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

"Kiber it is," said the Chiss with a wide smile. He could see that the drug dealer was enjoying the fine whiskey that Cryax offered, as well as the proposition that was being dangled. So far things were going so well, It didn't seem like Dorn would even need the hard sell. Could he trust the man? Probably not, but trust was a luxury among criminals. Cryax didn't need someone to keep his secrets, he needed someone to push the product.

When Kiber asked him which strength painkillers the Chiss wanted, he figured why not just go all in. "Let's just say, I'd like my kite to be flown," he chuckled.

Then the Chiss crime boss leaned forward in his Correllian leather desk chair and folded his hands in front of him. Cryax helped himself to the occasional hit of spice here and there, but didn't have as addictive a personality as some. Plus, he was way too busy running the Red Ravens to keep up with the spice market as closely as he would have liked. This is why a drug lord like Kiber would be so valuable. Even if he didn't end up hiring the man, he was always looking for free advice about the drug trade. So as Kiber retrieved his pain medication, he thought he'd pick the man's brain, or whatever cells he had left.

"So what kind of new drugs are all the kids taking these days? And how can we get them to buy it from our street corners?"

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Order received. First one's always free.

Hand snaked below the table, looking rather suspect in several ways but in all honesty he was simply getting some product from his stash. The unique belt-buckle with the surfing jawa on it could be flipped up to reveal a small treasure trove of illicit substances. From within he retrieved a small green pill, holding it out for Cyrax in the middle of his palm.

“One kite, due to be flown,” he said, grinning with that chequered chessboard smile.

The chiss inquired about the current state of drugs on the street. Given that the demographic he sold to were the demographic he took the aforementioned drugs with he was very up on the scene.

“Music,” Kiber stated simply.

“Trance is huge at the minute, mate,” the dealer continued, speaking about his craft with due confidence, “all the boys and girls just want to sit down and get psychedelic. Nobody wants drum and bass or jungle right now, so forget uppers. You want downers, or hallucinogens, that's a certified factarooni, sir."

He took a long, deep drink from the fine whisky, pausing to savour the flavour again. Tasted even better on the second drink. He'd have to get the name of this stuff, with the delusion of being able to buy it for himself one day.

“Millaflower is making a comeback. Neutron pixie is doin' alright. Thruster head, that's big. Yarrock, yeah, everybody loves a bit of yarrock.”

He leaned forwards, eyes flashing with mischief and insight…

“But that's not the biggest mover right now...”

[member="Cryax Bane"]