Private The Get Back.

[Ragos Terrek]

The sound of leather striking leather filled the room with the shuffling of feet, shouts of instruction, and the occasional cry of pain. The smell of blood, sweat, floor polish, and desperation was thick in the air. It stank like progress. The tempering of men made into steel. This was the way it was in Kidd's gym. A warehouse refurbished and refurnished to become the new training ground for the future of Coruscant's top shockboxers…or that was the dream Ragos was selling. It was in fact an old warehouse and it was refitted with two shockboxing rings, both were decades old and just barely older than the training equipment that filled the rest of the space. Chit, weren't state of the art but technology didn't mean chit when stacked up against proper training and real talent…or that was the dream Ragos was selling.

Ragos was in one of those decades-old rings now, a pair of training pads on his hands and a boy of maybe ten years, standing in front of him punching away at the pads, the way Ragos had instructed.

Bap
Bap
Bap
Crack!

"Yo, chit that was good, youth," Ragos told the boy. The kid was Korunai just like Ragos but unlike Ragos who had been born on Harun Kal and raised on Nar Shaddaa before coming to Coruscant, the kid had lived his whole life on the capital, and he had some real damn juice in his left hook.

"But what do I be telling you?" Ragos asked.

The boy did not answer, he only bit down on his mouthpiece and furrowed his brow.

"Nah, youth, I asked you a question, that means I want an answer," Ragos said.

The kid looked away and mumbled something.

"What?" Ragos asked sharply.

"Don't drop me hand." The boy sighed as if he had answered this question a dozen times already.

"You got damn right," Ragos said. "Don't drop the right when you throw that left hook, little homie. Everytime that hand comes down you leave yourself open to eat chit and go to sleep man. You do that and the wrong guy hits you, man, it could mean dying or worse losing."

Ragos showed the kid how to do it the right way.

"Now go practice on the bag for twenty"

With a groan the kid got out of the ring and began putting work in on the cracked sweat-stained heavy bag.

A loud whistle rang out from someone in the gym,

"White man in the building" someone shouted.

Ragos' head turned and he found himself looking at a dude who he swore he had seen before.

Where do I know this mutha sucka from?

Then he noticed the droid.

Chit, I definitely know that thing.

Ragos had no doubt they were here for him. These people were always here for him. He waited in the ring, dropping the pads to the yellowing cracked mat at his feet.

"You lookin' for a trainer, my guy?" Ragos asked the swaggering stranger.

Kardek Alpha

 

[Kardek Alpha]

It had been a long night, the man had entertained some very lovely ladies from the Coruscanti orchestra after their exquisite performance, having continued the festivities at a local club and then continuing on in his own penthouse. Time had gotten away from the rogue, but as the sun shown through his window, a certain intensity resurfaced, a remembrance of how much money he had actually lost due to the shady schemes of others. And he would not allow it. One did not simply swindle Kardek and live to talk about it.

And so he had bid the good ladies farewell, dressing in his sophisticated fabrics, taking one more shot of top-shelf tequila, and making his way with Alpha out onto the outdoor patio and into his speeder.

"Do you think it's wise to take another shot of the inhibiting liquid before flying?" Alpha probed,

"Inhibiting? Nonsense! It helps me focus." Kardek offered back with a smirk as they shot away quickly from the penthouse.

Alpha stared at him for a moment, then looked back out the front window, "I do not believe you. I witnessed how it affected you last night. You were not… focused."

Kardek looked over at him with a raised brow, "No? I felt pretty focused." Alpha processed the statement, ultimately acknowledging that there did seem to be s certain level of attention drawn to certain things.

They landed outside of Ragos' rustic shock boxing facility, Kardek confirming that this was the location with his cybernetics. "Looks like this is it, buddy." Alpha studied the facility, "I will join you." He stated. Kardek nodded, "That works for me." Exiting the vehicle, they both approached the facility, Kardke's eyes studying the surrounding buildings and looking for anyone who might be watching them a little too closely.

He swung open the doors, the sound of fists hitting flesh and sharp exhales of oxygen filling the air. Kardek walked past the various looks he received, approaching Ragos and stopping with a spread and confident stance.

"You lookin' for a trainer, my guy?"

He smirked, "As a matter of fact I am." Kardek motioned subtly towards the office, "Mind if we speak in private, Ragos?" He knew the man and of his connection to the Family as an associate, and so he had sought him out in order to track down this other shockbox trainer who had been rigging fights in order to make profit off of him.

 

[Ragos Terrek]

"Mind if we speak in private, Ragos?" Dude with the droid asked as Ragos feet hit the floor after hopping out of the ring.

“Follow me,” Ragos said, voice full of resignation as he led them toward the offices. “By the way man, nobody calls me Ragos.”

They shouldn’t even know my name. Why does this guy know my name?

“Most people call me Ghost, or Rag. You’re…Dexter, right? From Moonveil?” Ragos asked as he swung open the office door, shocking an older Korunai man awake. Ragos was pretty sure that dude would understand the reference to Moonveil for what it was, a clever way to say: ‘I know who you really work for.’

“How’s Kris doing?” The old man asked Ragos, seemingly not noticing Kardek or the droid.

“He still drops his lead on the hook.” Ragos said.

The old man cleared his throat. “How’s his footwork?”

“Fething great. Haven’t seen chit that good since…”

Since his little brother. His little brother, who was no longer in the fight game but a fething Jedi apprentice now.

“…in a long time”

“Since when?” The old man laughed. “You're practically as young as he is.”

“Alright, Bean, man get the feth outta here” Ragos said, shaking his head. “Go do your job man.”

“You taking off, Ghost?” Bean asked.

“For a while probably.”

“You gonna come back? The kids like having you around."

“I’ll get back when I can, this place don’t pay for itself.” Ragos said. “Just go out there and learn that grandson of yours how to keep his hands up.”

“Alright, alright, alright.” It was at this moment when he went to leave that Bean actually noticed Kardek.
“You a promoter or something? Dressed slick enough.” The old man asked Kardek.

“Bean! Go on man.”

“Okay, okay, okay.”

Finally been left and it was just the three of them in the office.

“Drink?” Ragos asked pulling a distinct bottle of brown liquor from a cabinet. There was no mistaking it for anything else. Mogano Bourbon. Could you believe the chit just fell off a truck? Ragos grabbed a pair of paper cups and poured a drink for each of the biological beings in the office.

“Ain’t every day we get you types down in twenty-two-sixty-nine.”

He left the questions unsaid.

Feth do you want?

Why is it always me?

Why the feth did I leave my heater in the whip?

Kardek Alpha

 

[Kardek Alpha]

Kardek scoffed in amusement at the mistaken name, "Ah, Nah. Kardek. He's Alpha." He motioned with a thumb over his shoulder at where Alpha was suppose to be, but then he noticed that the droid was gone. Kardek turned, "Alpha?"

PSSSSSSSSsssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhh

At that moment, the droid's hand penetrated completely through one of the gym's punching bags. Alpha froze, his balled fist still poking out the other side of the bag as sand continued to pour out onto the floor all around it. Alpha, slowly looked at all the faces around him, feeling more than a bit embarrassed at his disastrous attempt at shockboxing.

"Well." He stated finally, pulling his arm from the remains of the bag, "It appears less force would be preferable." He patted the limp outer casing gently, as if apologizing to the bag for the inconvenience, then walked briskly over to Kardek who was giving him a bit of a death glare.

"I'll pay for it." Alpha whispered to him, to which the Demone Superiore shook his head, running his hand through his hair with a bit of irritation.

"Ya." He scoffed, turning back to Ragos Terrek with a sigh, scrounging in his pocket as he procured some credits to cover his friends blunder. "For the bag. Sorry mate."

He had picked up on the subtle mention of what was implied behind the Moonveil corporation, giving Ghost a wink, "And yeah. Moonveil. You got it Ghost."

The two listened quietly to the conversation between Ragos and the older man, and at the question posed to him, he shook his head, "Nah. I'm an investor." He nodded as the man left, closing the door behind him to give the three a bit of privacy.

"Drink?"

"Always" Kardek accepted the cup, looking it over for a second before taking a sip. He was unused to drinking liquor in a paper cup, usually accustomed to glass, metal…

"Ain't every day we get you types down in twenty-two-sixty-nine."

He smirked, walking over to the desk and leaning against it. "Just happened to be in the neighborhood." He joked, quickly downing the rest of the drink before setting it down beside him. "I know you've worked with us in the past. Seen you on a couple of occasions. I was wondering if you could do me a favor…" With that Kardek flipped a Favour Chip into the air, catching it again in his hand. "In return, I'll give you one of these." He flicked it over to Ragos to catch, letting him take a look at the unique and valuable coin.

"Let's just say, we would owe you one."

 

[Ragos Terrek]

"My bad." Ragos said when he was informed that Kardek Alpha name was not in fact Dexter.

He would make sure not to forget again. Just like the rest of these Moonveil mutha suckas, Kardek made Ragos uneasy. Didn't matter how many times he got involved in they chit, which was becoming way too many times, Ragos never got the sense that he could relax around them mutha suckas. Maybe his dealings with Marcus tainted his view of chit but Ragos never felt like these people were ever actually asking for his help, it never felt like 'No' was an actual option when one of these people showed up.

Ragos ran the baddest new gang on the lower levels, had his hand in all sorts of chit from gambling spots, to street races, extortion, jackings, to simple B&E's but spice was where the real credits were and he owned full stop two dozen full levels where the only junk sold put credits back into his pocket.

That ain't mean chit when these guys came knocking. He was small-time compared to Moonveil or the people really running it from the shadows and you know that chit was alright with him when they weren't around. Everybody starts somewhere but to be the biggest dog in the yard until these mutha suckas came around with a leash was hard chit to take.

Chit, if he needed to be around these people and made to feel like a punk, he would much rather it be with that Fiora woman.

Ragos didn't bother paying too much attention to the droid until the thing destroyed one the few ancient punching bags hung up in the gym.

Fething droids.

That was all he could think. The bag wasn't worth much other than the fact that they had a limited amount of them. They were all in terrible condition as was everything in this karking spot, so Ragos was happy to take the credits Kardek offered. Ragos didn't bother to count the creds, the weight of them felt good and felt like more than enough to cover a new bag or whatever Ragos needed to use them for.

"Just happened to be in the neighborhood." Kaedek joked, quickly downing the rest of the drink before setting it down beside him. "I know you've worked with us in the past. Seen you on a couple of occasions. I was wondering if you could do me a favor…" Kardek said playing with a credit chip or some chit, tossing it in the aor and catching it over and over.

Ragos face turned inscrutable. A hard look he reserved for street dealings. He'd learned making yourself hard to read was beneficial but on the inside he was laughing thinking about the few times he had "worked with" Kardek's people in the past.

"In the neighborhood dressed like that huh?" Ragos asked. "You'nt worry bout much do you Kardek?"

Kardek tossed the chop toward Ragos who caught it deftly. Once it was in his hand Ragos was able to tell this was no ordinary credit chip or at least he had never seen anything like it before.

"Let's just say, we would owe you one." Kardek said.

Ragos first instinct was to tell the guy to get karked. Ragos ain't do chit fo free but he remembered being told once that a favor was the most valuable thing someone could owe someone else.

Joran Del-Finn had told him that. Smuggler, bounty Hunter, Mandalorian, and the man that taught Ragos and his little brother how to fight, Joran was like a second dad to Dagos—Ragos didn't need his first father he sure as chit didn't need a second one—but Joran had been all over the galaxy. He'd fought against Jedi and with them and even slept with one. He had a suit of beskar armor and a ship wanted in a dozen systems for smuggling or gun running. He had been given medals of service on one world and spent time in prison on another, so Ragos thought maybe taking his advice wasn't maybe the worst idea.

"What'chu need fam?"

 

[Kardek Alpha]

"In the neighborhood dressed like that huh?" Ragos asked. "You'nt worry bout much do you Kardek?"

Kardek paused for a moment, finding a bit of amusement in the question. He then shook his head briefly, "Nope." He spoke bluntly. It was true. A man with his skillset did not need to worry terribly about getting jumped in a dangerous part of town. It would surely be bad news for the aggressor.

"What'chu need fam?"

Kardek seemed pleased at Rago's willingness to help him. He pulled out a holodisk and activated it, causing a holographic image of a shock boxer to appear before him.

"I'm sure you know of Bodi Laart. AKA "Mr. Spooky". Well known shock boxer within the circuit. Promising talent. At least I believed so. Enough to wager heavily in his favor during a handful of his fights. As you know, he has been on a notable winning streak up until about a month ago." Kardek pressed a button, switching the projection to the image of a broker, "I switched brokers around that time, when my contact mysteriously broke off all communication. Mr. Lerian became my new broker, and I had moved forward rather successfully for a few rounds. But then…" Kardek tilted his head to the side, "80 percent of my bets began to fail. Like clockwork. Mr. Spooky began to loose consistently whenever I would wager significant funds in his direction. Before this, my success ratio was 8 of 10. Consistently. I'm very informed on my bets. But as of two months ago, my ratio is 2 of 10. It doesn't take much insight to see that someone is rigging the fights in order to profit from my bets."

Kardek scratched his chin, irritation and annoyance apparent, "Someone is stealing from me, Ghost. And I'm not going to let them get away with it, not to mention soil a good kids chances at a career."

Ragos Terrek

 

[Ragos Terrek]

Ragos sipped his liquor as Kardek Alpha explained his situation. Ragos wasn't shocked at what he was hearing but the idea that Spook was taking dives did come as a bit of a surprise. The kid was good. He had unbelievable movement for a fighter his size and a bomb of a right hand—that he relied on a little too much in Ragos' opinion.

"You're a few hunnit levels too low, my man," Ragos said. "Spook don't train here, and we don't throw fights. You wanna talk to Karlo Ebon, that's who manages Spook, and probably the guy getting a cut of your credits."

Ragos wanted to make sure that this friendly chat wasn't actually Kardek coming into his home and making accusations. Ragos would hate to have to do the kind of things that started wars, so it was best to let the man know which Worshyr to be barking up.

Before Ragos was even born Karlo had trained under Bean and had the making of a sector champion until allegations of fixing fights came too loud to ignore. It seemed Karlo wasn't content with ruining his own career and was going to drag Mr. Spooky down with him.

"You want me to get you a meeting?"