Late Night Thoughts

[Caran Malo]

Caran Malo

"Sir..Sir...Sir.."

Caran's eyes snapped forward to see a young officer standing before him, his hands deep into his pockets. "You were spaced out there for a second..everything alright?"

The police officer nodded as he tapped against the smooth durasteel desk, "Ah yes..I was afraid my mind was stuck on other matters." His crisp blue eyes glanced up to the man, as he gave a bit of a short nod. He hadn't been himself for the past few days, he was caught up in his emotions and stuck--contemplating his next move.

"Well sir..I just wanted to wish you a happy Life-Day," the man responded with a soft smile towards Caran, "I'm heading on R&R for two weeks, figured my wife and I would go see somewhere with some water."

"Well..I hope you enjoy yourself," Caran responded dryly, giving a bit of a wave as the man walked out of the office. As the door to the office hissed shut, the officer would slump into his seat, his fingers tapping against the durasteel desk--his eyes focused on a blank holoscreen.

Through the reflection he could see his face, he looked like kriff, his hair was unruly, and a few dark bags hung heavily underneath his face. I need a drink, he thought to himself as he jumped up from his desk, grabbing his jacket as he made his way out onto the Coruscant platform.

The air was cool and crisp on the top levels, as a stream of elegant lights lit up the night sky. Popping his hand into his jacket he would remove a cigarra, hanging it loosely from his lips as he walked towards the nearest bar.

 

[Larun Durante]

“Drago…” Larun insisted softly, his right hand resting on the silvery hilt of his lightsaber as he gestured toward the skeevy Bothan in front of him with his left. “You’ve been told before how this works. We overlook your minor transgressions, you donate to the Bureau’s retirement and disability fund, handled by me, because you’re such an upstanding citizen. Twenty percent of your earnings, if I am correct.”


He took another step forward, forcing the Bothan to take another precarious step closer to a rather painful, though not fatal, fall from the top of the two story bar.


“Listen...business ain’t been so good as of late...you know how things have been...more difficult to get supplies since the Emperor and Empress…” The Bothan said, both his hands raised up with their palms outward in a submissive stance.


“And that’s what you have been doing, up on this nice, refined level where you can see the stars, for the past two weeks, getting supplies?” Larun quipped “Because all of these young, wealthy fools having a good time are the type to carry the precursors to what you make?”


“I…”


Larun glared at him.


“...may have been trying to expand my clientele.”


“And you thought maybe since you were up here, the rules had changed. That you didn’t need your old pals from Level 1331?” He said in mocking disbelief.


“No...that...listen...it’s been harder to get down there…my legs...they’re not as good as they used to be...and not all the elevators work…”


“They seemed to work just fine trying to slip away from me, coming up here."

“I wasn’t...I come up here to think.”

Larun just scoffed.


“Forty percent this month. Delivered, on time. This is your final warning.” Larun cautioned.


The Bothan breathed a sigh of relief.


“As for your legs...maybe a trip to the hospital will reveal what has been so wrong with them. You shouldn’t neglect your health so much, Drago.”


“Wh-”

Reaching out with the Force, Larun flung the Bothan ever-so-casually off the edge of the roof, with just enough power to ensure he landed on his legs, and not his head.


“Aiyeeeeeeeeeeee!” The furball screamed as he fell, and Larun both felt through the Force and heard as the deadbeat broke his fall against the one of the parked speeders directly outside of the bar, its alarm blaring out across the streets in a high-pitched wail. It would do no good to peak over the edge and reveal himself to survey the exact amount of damage, however. As far as anyone was concerned, and the story Drago would repeat if he wanted to live, the Bothan had survived a misguided suicide attempt.

I try not to be too harsh, but you let even one of them think they can try and cheat me out of my cut…I need a drink.

Wrapping his cloak around him, he quickly descended the fire escape and entered the bar. Just another night for your poor Sith police attache.

@TWD26

 

[Caran Malo]

Caran Malo

"Ayyyyyyye!"

The police officer glanced up into the sky, watching as an alien came crashing from the sky, a cluster of speeders breaking his fall. The sound of his bones crunching against the broken metal, followed by the sound of the speeder's alarms, were enough to make the man wonder what exactly happened. Was it a suicide or an attempt at murder? Regardless of the outcome, Caran wasn't on duty and he had more important matters to contemplate, ones that would change the course of his life. I suppose someone had to do it, he thought to himself as he chewed against the bottom of his unlit cigarra--a habit he had picked up during his days in the police academy.

Stepping into the bar, the man was greeted by a decently packed venue--full of mostly young officers and Imperial Upper Class. His uniform would stick out like a sore thumb as one of the more least respected divisions in Imperial Society. Many within his departments had gained a bad reputation for their sleezy behavior, but Caran respected the job for what it was worth--his duty was to protect the Drast family no matter the cost.

"Correllian Brandy," he responded in a dry tone, his hands sliding over a credit chit. It was just going to be one drink, a simple in and out--he had some important people to meet.

tag: @Dawyn