Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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It's his money...

Arjant Clevenger

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...and Ezra needed it now. He was desperate to earn credits from any corner of Nar Shaddaa in order to pay off the debts that he currently owes to a cartel that he had been smuggling goods for some time. The cartel ring he was working for paid good money to the jobs and missions that they gave in comparison to the local cartels that lived close to where he lived. The symbiotic relationship between a smuggler and a crime lord was very mutual until the employee, being the smuggler, screwed up and lost the prized items that were meant to be turned into profits because of security inspecting his vessel which caused him to dump all the goods in space to avoid being arrested. Either be thrown in jail and not bring any bacon, or dump the merchandise and try to pay back the crime lord for his losses.

Who wouldn't pick the latter?

But the debts that he owed were due today and he didn't even have half of the money to pay off his debt. Ezra tried to avoid stealing money from other people, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Running with adrenaline pumping in his veins he headed towards the market district. Everyone needed to eat in order to survive and sometimes needed some furniture to make their living space alike to the luxurious life of those living in Republic and Techno Union territrory, and here was a great place to start accumulating stolen credits from entrepreneurs. He could go to the local cantina and rob from the bartender, but he would surely be greeted back with blaster aiming at his chest. Here would be little retaliation from the vendors selling all kinds of merchandise to their customers. All he needed were a few thousand credits and he be off his employer's radar.

[member=Josiah Denko]
 
As the old saying went, Home is Where the Heart is.

But could the Exile honestly say that his heart belonged to Nar Shaddaa?

For most, the answer would be a resounding kark no...but Josiah happened to have a soft spot for the Hutt Moon. This world was literally the first page in the story of his life. It had been where he was born...it had been where his most crucial years were molded by the uncanny combination of paternal love and street logic. So, for the most part, Josiah Denko had feelings of fondness towards the scummy world; but not enough to consider the place home. Honestly, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that there wasn't a place that he truly considered to be home. There was no singular, static place that he could always return to.

Ah well, such was the life of an Exile. Right?

There was not any particular reason that Josiah had decided to venture forth to his place of birth. There was no mission handed down from the Supreme Leader. There was no summons from Ashin or any distant kin. Josiah simply wanted to come to Nar Shaddaa...simply to clear his head. Recent history had given him a plethora of things to mull over; ranging from his decision to join the First Order to the state of the Light Side. So, with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his "Ren Robes", the Exile wandered about the marketplace he had grew up around.

Ah. The smell of puffcakes was in the air. He would definitely have to pick some up.

Oh? And what was this? Another scent...It was the sort that sang far louder than the ambient stench of Nar Shaddaa; one that appealed to the Master's Force Sense. There was a heap of stress reverberating through the Force, rippling forth from a singular source in waves. Normally this was the sort of thing that could be ignored, as it was Nar Shaddaa after all. Stress was just a normal part of residing on the Hutt Moon. Yet today...it was as if the Force were directly telling Josiah to turn his attention away from his thoughts. Hell, it was practically shoving him to do so.

As such, the Exile looked up from one of the merchant's wares and scanned the sparse crowd. There was a young man stalking about...the source of the stress...and he was eyeing one of the adjacent stalls. Josiah knew that look. He knew that walk. It was the sort of sizing up that he and his younger brother did before swiping fruit and sweets from vendors ages prior. Well that's...not...good. he thought, finally succumbing to the Will of the Force. The Exile took a moment to lower his hood, revealing his bearded face to the world, before striding over to the lad.

"You know, if you're going to rob someone, you ought to not make it so obvious." he said, deliberately keeping his voice low.

[member="Ezra Denko"]
 

Arjant Clevenger

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Who would be the first one to be robbed? Every credit counted, but the Smuggler didn't want to waste his time and energy on stealing from vendors that had little than what he anticipated for. Ezra needed to score big if he wanted to pay his debts on time or earlier than what his employer anticipated. His boss was too kind to give him more time to pay off what he owed which was originally due last week, but it was highly doubtful that the Hutt would allow an extra five minutes for Ezra to have the correct total of the merchandise that he lost thanks to Ezra. If Ezra didn't tell him that the pressure of law enforcers caused him to dump all the cargo from his ship he'd most likely be dead, or carbonated for centuries to come.

He finally chose his target as he saw a shady merchant selling spice minerals to a crowd full of patrons wanting for the addictive drug that is an important economic resource for crime lords and syndicates. It was one of the merchandise that Ezra dumped off in the vacuum of space since it was what every smuggler transported for their employer. Weapons and spice was every cartel ring's bread and butter along with other items like armor and ship parts.

As Ezra made his way to his target a man with a scruffy face was at his side and made a comment to what Ezra was about to do. It amazed Ezra of how this man knew what he was bout to do, but he had to keep up a straight face that didn't gave it away that he was about to rob the spice vendor. He stopped in his tracks and looked at the man and said, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Was this stranger law enforcement or was he some sort of professional street rat that could pickpocket anyone under their noses? He wasn't in trouble yet, but he had to get attention off of him if he was to gain profit that he was desperate for.

[member="Josiah Denko"]
 
The boy kept a straight face and lied through his teeth.

Josiah could tell, and it wasn't due to any sort of visible error in the thief's expression. To an untrained passerby, this would seem like an earnest response. One laced with just a hint of innocence and a dash of confusion. It was a recipe that any thief had to memorize if they wanted to last longer than a week on the street. Ah, the memories. Simply talking to this boy was taking the Exile back to...simpler days...mischievous days.

But then the Force itself nudged him. If demanded that his attention be placed upon the lad all the more. It was one hell of a feeling.

"I'm sure you don't." Josiah began, again keeping his voice low as to avoid revealing the lad's intent. "But as a friendly piece of advice, you might want to a different stall. Some of these buyers aren't buyers at all. They are henchmen, hired to boost sales by feigning interest. Don't believe me? Look at who's armed in the crowd and who isn't."

Josiah and Abel had learned that one the hard way. Damn near lost an ear in that firefight.

Now came the time for some logic. As the Exile studied the lad, he pieced together a few things. One, he was sizing up a Spice stall. This meant that either he had an addiction to feed...or, he owed someone a heap of cash. Folks who were hungry did not steal from drug stalls. They went straight to the source. Likewise, drug addicts...well, they wouldn't have the mental clarity required to prowl a marketplace with any sort of competency. So, that left debt. Debt enough that the lad would consider robbery over working it off.

"How bad is the debt?"

[member="Ezra Denko"]
 

Arjant Clevenger

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Ezra thought he could get away with the white lie he gave to the bearded man and if it succeeded he could go back to the robbery he was scheming. All he had to do was keep up the straight, sincere face he was showing to the stranger and he'd be off, but if he broke his concentration then he would either have to deal with more questions from the mysterious man or deal with local Techno Union authorities which would cause him to plan more to his strategy and have unwanted supervision from the police, that is if the man snitched on him.

As the man opened his mouth Ezra hoped that he would bid him a good day and pardon him for the misunderstanding; but he was wrong. The words that came out from the man's mouth were categorized as advice tips. Tips that could help a street rat or a thief living on Nar Shaddaa or the Underworld of Corusant. Heeding the words he looked, with a close and careful eye, at the buyers that were at the stall. Sure enough, the man was right; some armed humanoids were persuading their customers on buying their spice with deals and some were guarding the merchandise, ready to fire at some thief that could cost them credits of stolen goods. This broke his straight face for a few seconds until it went back to his poker face.

"Well, can't say you're wrong at all. Anyways, thanks for the advice. I might need it sometime," and that sometime was today. Ezra was about move along with his business until the man spoke again from his silence. This stopped Ezra right in his steps and looked at the man with an astounding face. "Okay, are you some kind of Jedi mind reader or what? Cause I ain't gonna buy an excuse of you just guessing of what's on my mind," he said with a volume that was low enough for people around them to hear the dialogue, but not loud enough for everyone turn their attention at the two.

[member="Josiah Denko"]
 

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