Private Spice Run

[Sorr Kortu]

Location: Lianna, Lone Star Bar

Sorr had done it now.

The young Smuggler remained rooted in his chair his shaking hands wrapped around the cool glass of water. Just an hour ago, Sorr was close to completing a Smuggling run for a gangster by the name of: Bejo: A racketeerer and a loan shark in Outer Melford. Despite not being popular amongst the people in the slums, Bejo had connections with powerful people in the city. He was able to cut deals with them and they bring in food and medical supplies to the slums. In return, Bejo often did what he wanted and there was nothing the locals could do to stop him. Although Sorr didn't like Bejo, he did have connections to higher paying clients. All Sorr was supposed to deliver a shipment of Spice from Coruscant and give it to Bejo in which he'll distribute it around the City of Melford. However, on his way to Liana, Sorr was ambushed by marauders who entered his ship and stole the cargo. Now Sorr was left without the Spice and Bejo is pissed off,

How could he have done this? How could Sorr be so careless? Bejo said he was on his way to talk to Sorr personally and knowing his nasty reputation, Sorr's head would probably be on stick by the time Bejo was done with him. "Why did I become a Smuggler again?" Sorr moaned taking a sip of water.

Alicia Drey

 

[Alicia Drey]

Tag: Sorr Kortu

Emerging from behind a plume of gas walked the small but indomitable figure of Darth Ayra. She had arrived on Lianna some days ago to meet with the head of Santhe-Sienar to get her affairs in order. As the vents which lined the walls of the mega-structures that made up Lianna city's ecumenopolis continued to contribute to the light fog that line the streets Ayra continued her path along the walkaways towards the Lone Star Bar. Hands hidden within the pockets of the black leggings she wore beneath the tunic that had become her signature look the Sith turned a corner and edged closer to her goal.

Bejo was not a well known commodity in the City. He was small time, and therefore not on many people's radar. The way that Ayra came to understood the man was that he was a native who was born and raised in slums of the megacity. It was a tale as old as the dark side itself. Boy born into poverty lives an absurd, degenerate life in a society that was completely dystopian. Santhe-Sienar, the Empire of the Lost, and their predecessor governments- from their leaders, capitalists, and patsies- all led comfortable lives as the balance of power laid skewed in favour of the rich to the poor. Therefore, in such circumstances, one had to find a way to survive, and criminality was rampant in this city.

Even if the current Imperial occupation thought otherwise. Where urbanisation had settled in and taken roots gave way to the criminal element that was always working. Stirring in the undercurrent of the belly of a beast like a mitigating cancer that had no cure. Bejo was a mere result of consequence. Where others had climbed over the mob to claim their seats of power in the dichotomy between the haves and have nots there would always be those who would try to become the former and never the latter. In this convoluted logic one could come to the conclusion that the people who built up corporations like Santhe-Sienar was just the criminal class who had got away with it.

Unfortunately for Bejo he was a small and big always eats small. As Ayra found her way into the bar and turned to enter the establishment she took the time to survey the scene. Her eyes found the contact the Bejo was set to meet on that fateful night. Unlike him Ayra did not know much about the other who was set to meet the spice dealer. Nevertheless he was of some interest given her reasons for coming here tonight.

Finding a booth at the back of the bar Ayra lowered herself down into it's seating and produced a cigarette from her pocket. As she lit up the laserbrain and admired the plume of smoke that she breathed out into the air a protocol droid made it's approach. "Good evening ma'am. Welcome to the Lone Star Bar. How may we be of service?"

"Gizer Ale. No ice. When my drink is served and paid I do not wish to be disturbed."

"Of course, ma'am. One Gizer Ale for?"

"Drey."

When the droid left to fetch her drink Ayra flicked a finger off the stub of her cigarette to remove the ash and took another toke while she waited for her drink.

 

[Sorr Kortu]

Sorr jumped when he heard a woman order a glass of Nightflower. He almost thought that Bejo's thugs were going to attack him, Sorr was at his wits end trying to think up a reason why he didn't give him the box of spice. Sorr took another gulp hoping that the cool water would soothe his overworked heart. Vletti'azan'uosus always told Sorr that he was a fast draw, and that gunslinger would dare try to shoot him. While Sorr found himself a good shot, in his field of work people play dirty. Bejo could've had assassins ambush Sorr while he was walking to his house, send in a sniper to kill him from a building. Maybe have the innkeep slip in some poison in his water for him to-

"Oh man," Sorr mumbled. "I just gulped down an entire glass of water!"

Sorr nodded rapidly drumming his fingers alongside the edge of the table. "And crying out loud!" the innkeep said. "Wipe your face! You look like you're a like a melting snowman or something."

"I'm just ummmm," Sorr started. "Just waiting for someone!"

"Who?"

"ME!"

Sorr turned around and saw a fist hurling towards his face. Squeaking, the young man ducked barely avoiding the punch which unfortunately collided with the inkeep's nose. The bartender fell on the wooden floor his head banging against the metal sink from behind knocking him out. "Bejo!" Sorr attempted to slip away only to run to two large Trandoshans armed from head to toe. One of the Trandoshans pushed Sorr towards Bejo and the young man cowered in front of him.

"So Sorr!" Bejo yelled. "You have my money right? After the massive frack up you've caused!"

"Look Bejo!" Sorr yelled. "I was going to pay you back plus extra but-"

"Sorry isn't a currency!" Bejo was about to attack Sorr.

Alicia Drey

 

[Alicia Drey]

Tag: Sorr Kortu

Ayra watched as Bejo entered the establishment in the company of a small group. As she watched them close the divide between the entrance of the bar too where Kortu sat Ayra lowered her drink onto the table ahead of her and took the time to flick the ash off the end of her cigarette just as Bejo punched Sorr in the face. Raising her cigarette back to her lips Ayra took the time to take a toke and exhaled the smoke through her nose while it dangled between her pursed lips.

She decided to let the situation play out. Helping others out of charity was not the way of the dark side.