Ask Shadows of Cormond

[Galchelim]

For the rest of the Galaxy, Cormond was the commercial center of Brentaal. With the Trade Hall, the Museum of Arts and buildings that were owned by trade guilds, the city showed opulence to those that arrived at the Freia Kallea Spaceport. However, it was only a nice cover to the dirty that the city hid.

In the shadowy corners of Cormond, figures of dubious morality worked hard to survive. Among them was Galchelim. He had lied to his mother, saying that he was going to work with some mechanics fixing droids. In reality, the young man was leaning at a wall in one of the less crowded areas of the city.

With his blond hair dyed pink, Gal waited for the arrival of his boss’s new partner. He wasn’t sure why he was sent to this mission, even less why he was alone. However, he really didn’t mind. His boss said that he was going to pay him a large sum of crowns if he did. Since the rent of the apartment where he lived with his mother had become more expensive, the young man accepted it without any question.

He was starting to regret it, due to the fact that the guy was late.

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

​

Taking the tram had been a mistake.

In the years he’d spent away from his homeworld, a few things had changed. One of the streets he’d always used to avoid was actually safe to walk through these days, provided you looked intimidating enough. Another he didn’t so much as have to carry a knife in had been crawling with goons that had immediately accosted him. He was reasonably sure that he hadn’t killed any of them, though they’d be lucky if their bones healed back the right way.

Other things he’d just… forgotten about. Navigating through lower Cormond in a timely fashion was an art. It required skill, practice and wit. You had to know which buses were on time, which trams tended to be delayed, how much foot traffic there was and which alleys you could go through for short cuts.

Laeo had learned a lot in the decades he’d spent away from home– and he’d completely forgotten how to travel.

He stumbled from bus stop to bus stop, gave up his seat to some grandma, then wound up wishing he’d killed her after he spent another hour trying to get onto a tram, before finally, mercifully arriving close to the rendezvous.

His accomplice wasn’t hard to find. Gal’s boss– and Laeo’s old partner– had explained everything in detail over a bottle of whiskey.

Just telling him that the boy’s hair would be pink would’ve probably been enough, but Pad’rach really, really liked talking.

Unassumingly, the older man walked onto the street corner the boy in pink was standing by. Reaching into his pocket, Laeo pulled out a small pack of Cigarras– and frowned.

“Ah, shite, forgot mae lighter.” he declared, a little louder than normal. Glancing around nonchalantly, he’d spot the pink haired boy.

“Ayy, got a match?” He asked, uttering the passphrase with a little to much self satisfaction.

@LouJoVi

 

[Galchelim]

Finally. Galchelim thought, when he heard the man say the passphrase that his boss had informed him. “Yeah, I have.” he said, before passing the litter to him. This was simply a gesture to confirm that he was the right delivery boy. After the man gave it back to him, the young man would walk inside the nearby alley, expecting the other to follow him. There they would be able to talk about business without being disturbed.

While they walked, Gal would turn to look at Laeonas, showing to the man all his frustration. “You are two hours late. Two hours!” he said, furious with the lack of professionalism from the other. “Do you know how many creepers stopped by thinking that I was a hooker? If it wasn’t for the money of this job I would have gone away hours ago.”

Now that he liberated some of his rage, Gal went back to his professional posture. “I’m Galchelim, but call me Gal.” he offered a hand for the other to shake. “My boss told me that you are an old partner of his, but he left me in the dark about what we are going to do.” he said, before crossing his arms and staring at the dark-haired man’ s eyes. “So, why do you need help?”

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

​

Laeo quietly exhaled from his nostrils as he felt the cold steel of the lighter in his fingers, tension leaving his body as he brought it to the cigarra at his lips, striking once, twice, thrice, then igniting.

He took a deep drag as he handed the lighter back, blowing out a cloud of smoke, the tension leaving his body. “Much obliged, gaolta.” He replied, slipping in the traditional passphrase amongst gang members. He took another drag of the Cigarra, exhaling slowly as he let himself relax for a moment. Despite the inconveniences and madness that had occurred during his journey, he’d finally arrived at his mission.

Following his benefactor, Laeo relaxed and prepared for a quick, easy debriefing. No one person was usually provided with all the details on an assignment like this. Laeo would share his information, and the boy in pink would share his.

Far from a calm, reasonable exchange of intel and commands however, the younger boy decided to have a tantrum. Laeo’s eyes widened slightly at the younger man’s heated frustration, stopping in his tracks. He listened, unflinching as the younger man complained, taking in all he said.

He stood like that for awhile, aquamarines blankly staring at the younger boy, the flickering lamppost above periodically casting him in a fluorescent glow before shrowding him in darkness again. His chest didn’t rise, his nostrils didn’t flush, the cigarra in his lip burned, the rich odor flooding both their nostrils. His face resembled a bust more fortunate families might carve of an ancestor; smooth, even features, a stoic expression, a long crack tearing across the face after having been dropped once a few centuries ago.

Gal would have a split second to react when the statue’s fist slammed into his stomach. The force flowed through his fist and into the connecting tissue of the younger gangster, the speed and power of his attack magnified far beyond what any normal person could avoid.

Whether or not he doubled over retching or managed to remain standing, Laeo would grab him by the jaw and turn his face up to look at him, an icy coldness in the gaze of his aquamarines.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, and assume you’re very, very new to this life.” The Brentaalan whispered coolly, the strength of his accent melting away as his grip on Gal’s jaw tightened. “Because either you haven’t seen what happens when a snot nosed gobshite talks back to his superiors, or you’re to stupid to realize I’m your fucking boss.” He hissed, before dropping the boy and stepping back.

“You have a right to complain, or question, or criticize– but you do NOT raise your voice to your superiors like that, ever.” He declared, staring down at the younger man.

Truth be told, the gangster hadn’t even offended him. He’d received worse verbal lashings before by people whose opinions he actually cared about; the complaints of a stranger meant nothing to him.

He just knew that if Gal didn’t learn how this game worked soon, he’d be a dead man.

“...you’re right to be angry though.” He conceded after a few more seconds. “I’ve got no right making you wait that long and I jeopardized the mission. I’ll put in a word to see you get a bonus for this job.” He declared, offering a hand to the younger man, offering to pull him up off the ground and shake it when he stood.

“Laeonas.” He answered simply, before he raised an eyebrow at Gal’s apparent lack of… any knowledge of the mission.

“Geeze, you are new.” He muttered, before letting out a sigh. “Alright, alright. I guess there’s nothing else to this job, so it’s fairly simple.” He began, walking further into the alley.

“We’re going to kill a woman.” He began. “Another raak; Bea’trix. She’s recently taken charge of the territories between the An’Hadrioi public housing units 4B-5G, and a stretch of old warehousing and industrial real estate.” Laeonas elaborated.

“If you’re confused, I don’t blame you. That territory is almost worthless. The raak isn’t interested in a hostile takeover for it’s own sake; Bea’trix is operating in the slave trade.” The man followed, his voice almost dropping an octave as he explained. “The public housing units she’s taken control over were condemned up until a few months ago, when Governor Lassiter signed an order to reopen them for the housing of coreward refugees fleeing from the catastrophe on Coruscant.” Laeo went on.

“Like everything the government does, the resettlement was underfunded and exploited by corrupt officials to line their own pockets. None of the refugees are being catalogued properly and the projects are overcrowded and miserable. Bea’trix initially wanted to try extorting the refugees, or sell some drugs, but the refugees can’t pay for either. So, she decided to start kidnapping them and selling them offworld.” He explained.

Pad’rach had laid out the situation in gruesome detail when they’d met. The gang had promised refugee families protection, only for them to be drugged, separated and shipped off out of an old landing platform in the industrial sector to syndicate and hutt buyers operating in orbit around the planet. When Laeo had asked how he’d gotten the information, Pad’rach had simply presented him a box with the fingers of 3 gang members who’d been tortured into confession. All had corroborated the same story.

“Slavery has been anathema on this planet for thousands of years. People in our line of work swear to never engage in it." Green as Gal might be, he would've remembered that of the oaths he'd taken, one of them would have specified that he was never to engage in the buying and selling of his fellow sentients-- and he'd know the exact punishment he'd face if he did. "This woman and her gang have spat in the face of our traditions, so we’re going to find her, kill her, and then crucify her body somewhere everyone can see it. Understand?”

@LouJoVi