Open Coruscant Prime Real Estate

[Galen Terco]

Location: Coruscant

There was a near-constant flow of traffic from the speeder stop. Hundreds of people came and went, departing the taxis from the nearby arrivals station and heading about their business. Galen Terco found himself as one of those people. Dressed in a long light green overcoat, he wore a simple set of travellers' robes, a roughspun-looking brown hat, and a set of three empty code cylinders in his top right pocket.

Disembarking a shuttle, Galen being to run down in the credits department to pay for a private cab, he picked up a simple duraplast briefcase filled with moisture vapourator schematics and disembarked.

Unarmed, as a civilian in core space, he walked down the arrivals lobby and toward a droid holding the name 'Mik Luto' on a holoscreen. Then, quickly, he presented his identification card and a business card, the former affirming the latter to be true.

Mik Luto
Regional Salesbeing
UNIVERSAL IMPORTS​

The droid scanned his card as Galan introduced himself, thrusting his hand out awkwardly as the droid did not reciprocate. "Mik Luto, Universal Imports." he said with a slightly jaunty accent, stammering a tad with nerves as he continued "You must be Hask?" Galen asked the young Rodian male standing behind the droid, who nodded and finally shook his hand.

"That's right. Welcome to Coruscant from all of us at DD-2 Real Estate and Rentals." the Rodian replied in a well-practiced line.

Galen nodded and smiled warmly "Thank you, it's quite a maze to get here - we don't have this outside of Etti IV back in CorpSec." he replied, referring to the Corporate Sector in customary regional slang, as his cover required. Should anyone investigate the company he alleged to work for, they would find a firm registered under his cover name, and the names of two other entirely falsified beings, in Corporate Space, the cover, he was assured, would hold up to inspection.

"Has my associate arrived yet?" he asked, to the shake of the head from the Rodian, which answered his question "Alright. Well, let me buy you a caf whilst we wait." he added, as the trio wandered to a nearby stand to place their order.

 

[Beto Lorsoni]

THEME​

<Signal Lost> the datapad's screen went to black as the aging mobster's hand went to rub his forehead. Apparently the Corellian Crime Families had made a deal with someone and sold them Beto's services as part of the package. "We still have that old safehouse in this district?" he asked the bartender referring to his brother's old home, to which he hadn't been in ages. "Yeah, didn't you say it was never bad to keep paying the rent just in case?" She replied with a look of pity he didn't see. Sure, Beto kept paying just in case Tone would return. Stashing what smelled like Imperial spies in it could come to bite him in the ass, personally. Even worse, he had just adopted a kid. What would happen to him?

"I have to go for a bit," Beto rose from his stool at the bar, "sublet the place. He ain't coming back and we're throwing away credits." It was an easy and quick excuse and he hoped he wouldn't have to leave a bigger credit trail on this whole thing.

--- *** ---​

Forty minutes later he arrived at the arrival's lobby of Coruscant's interplanetary spaceport, holding up a hologram of Mik Luto's face and recognizing him standing with a droid and a rodian. "Excuse me," Beto said as he approached them.

The mobster's face was tired, gray hairs becoming dominant in both his two-day beard as the hair on his head. The suit he wore was dated, yet still fit around his frame like it had the first day he wore it. "I'm Beto Lorsoni and I think you must be Mik Luto from Universal Imports?" his eyebrows rose in anticipation. This person didn't look like the kind of man his uncle back on Corellia just told him about on the encrypted transmission. This was a simply dime in a dozen businessman. "I'm from Calamari Seafood," he paused, giving the opportunity for the man to hook in. Universal Imports seemed like the kind of company that could offer a better deal on Seafood, whether it still originated from Mon Cal or not.


@Nor'baal

 

[Galen Terco]

Galen clocked the man approaching but did not respond immediately - after all, he was a civilian, not a trained combat-ready Imperial operative. He stirred his caf, handed one to the Rodian realtor, and then turned as Beto spoke. "Hello -" he smiled at the man, placing his caf down and putting his case on the floor to shake the man's hand; the whole thing was quite awkward "- one more please." he cut across the serving droid, who complied and charged him another credit.

Caf on Coruscant was cheap, horrible muck, but it was warm, which was what mattered.

According to the sign above the vendor, this was the "Best Caf in the Core". Galen doubted the authenticity of that statement. "Mik Lutos the name," he flashed Beto a smile "- seafood and agritech is the game. We at Universal Imports have been sending nothing but the best in ocean-going produce for the past ten years, and a fair few vapourators to boot!" he lied, realising he may need to have the ISB purchase large amounts of sea food to cover this operation should it go ahead.

"Shall we get going?" the realtor, Hask, urged. Galen nodded, passing the new Caf to Beto and collecting his case from the floor. "So Beto, tell me a bit more about your lot - what are working with?" he asked innocently, as they headed off down the large causeway and off to a nearby public shuttle dock.

 

[Beto Lorsoni]

STILL THE THEME​

Beto listened to the man with faked interest. Almost all known worlds had fish and after cooking them almost no one could separated polluted Corellian fish from a Mon Cal Striped Bluefin. Still, he understood he had a role to play here while in the company of civilians. Neither mobsters nor soldiers saw themselves as such, after all. Beto took the caf, but didn't take a sip and simply held it in his hand as they made their way towards the shuttle. He didn't drink sewer-processed muck like this. Calamari Seafood had proper caf from good Agamarian beans and fresh mountain water from New Alderaan. At least, that's what the import salesman had told him.

"I know of this one property-" it had been empty ever since the underworld police seized it over debt, but it had recently returned to the market at a lowball price because the level administrator needed the credit flow to stave off personnel shortcoming in wartime. "-need to transport goods to and from by speeder van," on level 1313 you couldn't just park a freighter everywhere. Traffic went to the local dock authorities, who were extremely corrupt on the lower levels, and you took speeders and mag-trains to your destination from there on out. "but I do have this apartment," he smiled at the rodian, who made his indignation clear the second he realized that the human wanted to sublet his own property directly without interference from DD-2 Real Estate and Rentals. "Right smack in the middle of the entertainment district," his little brother had wanted to be where the action, meaning restaurants, clubs and cathouses, were. "Put up a 'Universal Imports' sign and convert it into an office," with bed- and bathroom for overnight visits. "Can't think of a better place on the entire level."


@Nor'baal

 

[Galen Terco]

An apartment and a business property would be quite useful Galen thought as they approached the transport. He paid in credits, harder to trace than an electronic transfer, and boarded the shuttle. Level 1313 was a good place to do business if you wanted things done affordably, but it was not without risk. Fortunately the local risks could be mitigated with good security, or with paying the local gangs their expected fees - Galen was confident the ISB could manage that.

"An office, as well as storage, would be handy," he began, looking through the plans on a datapad, offered to him by the Rodian - clearly trying to keep his fingers in the business deal. Both locations were reasonably close to one another, and importantly, the old factory property has something he could make considerable use of.

A garbage compressor.

Looking at the plans he saw that the compressor was quite some distance underneath the factory, accessed by a service elevator and then a fire-escape tunnel. The compressor dominated one part of the floorspace, with a service and utility room attached. It was the sort of place you didn't go to unless there was a repair that needed to be made.

It was the sort of place you ignored.

"Let's look at the factory first, next stop." he asked, a subconscious clipped tone of a man used to giving orders sneaking into his phraseology. Galen moved on quickly, exiting the shuttle as he handed the datapad back to the Rodian. He reckoned they could remove the garbage compressor, and make use of the space as a listening post, plugged into the local holonet traffic with ease.

The factory itself was quite large, and quite empty.

"We can strip this out yes, put in freezer units for the merch - we've got access for transports from the docks yeah?" he asked Beto, who knew more about this property than him "What's the local scene like, anything we need to insure against?"

 

[Beto Lorsoni]

THEME SHIFT​

The rodian had weaseled in a datapad with crunched numbers and his fingers kept doing 'pop pop' as he kept nervously fidgeting. Beto was a bit more comfortable and ignored the 'no smoking' rule inside the shuttle to lit up one of his vanilla-scented cigarettes. "Used to grow synthetic fish and distributed across the level," Beto answered the fake businessman, "You'll need speeder vans for the transport from the shuttle docks and up to the spaceport, but-" he paused suddenly and looked at the rodian. Real estate agents were real rats and Beto slowly exhaled, blowing the smoke from his vanilla-scented cigarette towards the alien's antennae. "-you'll be fine on this level." 'Mik Luto' would know what that meant, for he or his superiors had made a deal with the Corellian Crime Families. Beto would have to make some deal with the local gangs, but he knew that the credits he'd need for it would come from the imperials.

When they arrived at the factory the mobster pointed out the large vats that had once hosted synthetic fish and that could now be removed to make room for freezers from offworld fish. "Used to be some scavengers lived here," he smiled and swung his hand to denote the area where his brother had beat some of the addicts nearly to death, "Used to be the Pink Panther Swoops and the Barabel Jet Empire fought their little swoop war near here," the disdain towards the 'rabble gangs' that weren't as sophisticated as the proper crime families like those in Corellia or indeed the ones that had become so big that they formed their own intergalactic syndicate, the Crymorah Syndicate, was clearly noticeable. "Barabels chased off the Panthers and the rangers took care of the Barabels. So all peace and quiet here now."

@Nor'baal

 

[Galen Terco]

Galen pretended to be non-plussed by the explanation from Beto. In truth, he was well-versed in the disputes between the criminal gangs in the lower-levels; the ISB would not have sent him here, lacking the information to make the mission worthwhile. "Well, we can import the fresh stuff now!" he replied, with the affected optimism of a man whose life revolved around the import of fish.

He had done his homework.

The shuttle stopped, and the group disembarked. They arrived at the factory soon after, for it was only a short walk from the shuttle bay "With good access to transport as well." he smiled. The ISB would ensure the correct groups were paid or intimidated enough to play along, and most would have no idea with whom they dealt - all of it would be done through enough layers of obscurity to ensure those who they could not control would know nothing.

Beto, the ISB was sure they could keep on side. Credits would do the trick; if he deviated from the line offered to him by the Empire, more strict measures could be deployed.

"Let's hope the other gangs keep themselves to their usual business and not the fish industry." he chuckled, walking into the factory with Beto, and gently indicating that Rodian should wait outside. Once indoors, the entrance firmly shut behind them, out of earshot of those outside the venue, he turned to face Beto.

A stern look dropped across his face, gone was Mik - in stepped the ISB. "You can keep the locals off our backs, yes?" he asked directly "Which specific gangs and groups do we need to be aware of? And which ones do we need to move on now, as opposed to paying off?"

 

[Beto Lorsoni]

The sudden shift of tone and demeanor surprised Beto and he wasn't afraid -or skilled enough- not to let it show. "You don't move on anyone," he replied as he regained his composure and straightened his suit, "I'll do what you pay me for."

There was this thing about soldiers and mobsters. They both adhered to a very strict hierarchy and when it was assaulted they lacked the 'flight' reflex. Beto didn't back down despite the ISB agent's stern look and instead casually dropped his cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. "You don't ask me about the details and I won't ask what you're doing here, either." It was basic mobster 101: If you don't know, then you can't rat it out to the rangers. Beto figured neither of them wanted anyone to know about their deal.

But, he did want to give the man some sliver of intel. "Neither of us wants to attract the attention of the Crymorah Syndicate, you understand what I'm getting at?"

@Nor'baal

 

[Galen Terco]

A risk was being taken in doing business with the galactic underworld. However, the ISB knew how to mitigate risks, it was their business to do so effectively. The Lorsoni family was not the biggest player on Coruscant, and this served the Bureau's interests considerably. An ambitious family looking to make its way in a hostile environment was exactly what they needed.

Their interests aligned far more easily.

"Very good." Galen replied cooly. No questions were asked, and none could be answered. The Bureau had already authorised the required payments to be made and then kept it simple. There would be no fancy shadow organisations, no shell companies - instead 'Universal Imports' would move from paper to reality. It would import fish, and vast quantities of the stuff, and it would pay the local gangs for protection like everyone else did on this level.

If it got to much to handle, or if one of the gangs started sniffing around a little to much - the Bureau would send in a team and massacre the whole lot of them.

Galen smirked. Ideally, that would not need to happen. "Understood. Now," he gestured to the Rodian beyond the door "Let's settle this deal with a witness, sign the contract with a legal party and send them on their way." he smiled, his stern demeanour melting away to be replaced with Mik, the happy-go-lucky sales being with a spring in his step.