Carratos
Logan Square District of Cronat City
“So where are we supposed to find this prick?” Gi asked, as he exited the red airspeeder parked. He had a peculiar accent when speaking Basic which wasn’t very common on Carratos.
“In here, I think.” Jeet said displaying the same accent as he exited the airspeeder’s pilot side.
“The Ko’di-han Chao Ristorante?” Gi said, stopping in his tracks; waiting for Jeet to catch up to him.
“Yeh, this is the place.” Jeet said, as he stood right next to Gi.
Ko’di-han Chao Ristorante was a small restaurant with flashing neon signs displaying today’s specials, from outside it was hard to tell what was going on through the many signs and curtains.
“Monkey-Lizard brains? Honestly? Who eats this shit?” Gi asked, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, you haven’t lived until you’ve eaten Monkey brains. They’re delicious.” Jeet replied his brow furrowed feigning sincerity.
Gi didn’t say a word as he looked over at Jeet; disgusted.
“Are you daft? Of course I haven’t eaten Monkey-Lizard-fucking-brains. Are you a twat?” Jeet blurted out with both hands raised.
Gi shook his head, as he sighed.
“Let’s just get in there, shall we? Monkey breath?” Gi said, as he walked up to the entrance.
The door slid open, revealing nearly half a dozen patrons. Some alien, some human or at least <i>near-human</i>. Two of them were in line, and the rest were seated all alone, at one of the 8-or-so tables in the small establishment.
The two men garbed in suits walked up behind the couple that was in line.; a pair of Twi’lek lovers.
“Hey, tail face. Shop’s closed. Why don’t you find somewhere else to eat whatever-the-hell it is that you eat.” Jeet said, tapping the male on the shoulder.
“Well, I…” The female began but Gi interrupted.
“I’m sorry, Miss. What my partner meant to say was, get the fuck out before I grab you by those dangling eels growing out of your head and throw you through the window.”
“That’s what you meant, isn’t it Jeet?” Gi continued, turning to his partner.
“Yeh. I believe it is.” He said, turning to the other patrons. Three of them took the cue and exited hurriedly.
Without hesitation the two Twi’leks scurried out, head-tails twitching in fear.
“Who’s this guy?” Gi said, pointing to the lone customer in the restaurant. He was a human, middle-aged, balding. He just sat there slurping some type of thick green soup, staring out the window oblivious to his surroundings.
“Hey, you. How ‘bout you get the fuck out of here?” Jeet asked, but it was more of an order.
The man sat there, spooning the soup into his mouth; unphased.
“Do you think he’s deaf?” Gi asked.
“Dif?” One of the restaurant employees said, puzzled by the pair’s accent, as he came to the front after the commotion. He appeared to be the chef of this fine cuisine, or at least; that’s what his stained apron would suggest.
“Deaf. He said, deaf.” Jeet said, turning his attention to the human who’d come from the back. The man was still clearly puzzled, not understanding what the pair were saying. “Deaf, as in, if I blow both your ears off with this hand-cannon, you’ll be deaf and won’t be able to hear your own screams when I beat you to death with my left hand.” He said, removing the concealed blaster from behind his back, beneath his suit jacket.
“Your left hand?” Gi questioned.
“Yeh, I do other shit with my right hand y’know? I write with my right hand, I eat. I definitely eat with my right hand, I can’t hold a fork to save me with my left hand. I’d rather not starve to death on account of beating this twat to death with my good hand.” Jeet said, looking at Gi.
“Yeh, I guess that makes sense. I’m right-handed as well but I tend to wank it with my left hand. So it would kind of be a tough decision on that one. I suppose I’d just beat him with the actual pistol itself, y’know?” Gi said, now more concentrated on his side-conversation with Jeet than their business there.
“Yeh, that’s a good idea. You can always use the butt of the pistol. Sometimes I get carried away though, like when I get really pissed I just wanna slug the twat ‘til my knuckles are as bloody as his face.” Jeet replied, not noticing the middle-aged occupant who nonchalantly finished his soup, left a proper tip, and exited the restaurant.
“Well, that’s true. But then you walk out of here lookin’ like a psychopath with blood all over your clean suit. Then you catch a patrol out on the parkway, they get tipped off by your white shirt which is now stained with this twat’s blood, and have a shootout with the whole Cronat City Security Force.” Gi said, as he removed his blaster pistol from the beneath his suit. “Me? I’d rather just put a bolt in the twat’s head and save the hassle. Maybe pour myself a bowl of that yellow soup they got brewin’ over there, you know… enjoy myself for a moment. Work at my own pace.”
“Yeh, good point. That soup does smell awfully good. I thought they only served that stinky alien shit here, but I bet that soup’s delicious.” Jeet replied, looking over to the pot of soup on the other side of the counter.
“What kind of soup is that?” Gi asked, turning his attention to the employee on the other side of the counter.
The man stood there for a moment clearly in shock, before speaking.
“Um.. that… uh… Risillian Lilat Soup.” The man replied, hardly able to put a sentence together.
“Risillian Lilat, ya that does sound good.” Gi interjected.
“Hey, where’s Cromartie?” Jeet asked, turning his attention to the employee.
The employee stood there for a moment, still in shock. “Oh… uh.. Cromartie… ya.. he’s in back.”
“Yeh, that makes sense. They’re usually in back.” Jeet replied.
“Yeah, they are aren’t they? Funny coincidence, that.” Gi said, as he glanced at Jeet before turning back to the employee. “Is anyone else back there with him?”
The human employee shook his head, he was probably telling the truth. He seemed too scared to lie.
“You sure about that? Because I don’t like to be lied too.” Jeet countered.
He shook his head furiously, “No… nobody but Cromartie. All alone.”
“Good, then get the fuck out of here.” Gi said.
The man stood there for a moment, stunned.
“Well, what the fuck are you waiting for? Get the fuck out of here.” Jeet said, as the man immediately started towards the back.
“Hey, numb skull.” Gi said, as the wide-eyed employee turned around. “Go out the front door, eh?” He said, pointing to the entrance behind him.
The frazzled man turned and ran out the front door.
The two men made their way around the counter and through the narrow hall which led to the small kitchen. With their blasters drawn, they came across Cromartie’s office.
Tronian Cromartie was a small-time associate of the Pezzino Family lead by Vitorrioni Callalegroso. The word on the streets was that Cromartie had been the perpetuator of some nasty rumors about <i>Capofamiglia</i> Vingo Stahl, Boss of the Vizzini Family. What the rumor was exactly, was hard to say; as it had no doubt grown substantially since its inception. The gist of the rumors implied that Vingo was on the receiving end of a homo-erotic relationship.
Gi nudged the door open with his blaster which he held in his left hand. Cromartie sat there at his desk, no doubt surprised by the intrusion of the pair both wielding blasters.
He was an older man, with an overly hairy chest and a taste for gold jewelry. His thick bushy gray eyebrows rose as he began to speak. “What’s the meaning of this eh?”
“Hello, Cromartie. My name is Gi Jemaine and this is my partner; Jeet Naz.”
Jeet nodded in agreement, “Pleasure’s ours Cromartie.”
“I’ll get straight to the point if you don’t mind? No reason to beat around the bush.” Gi said.
Cromartie nodded, unable to manage a response.
“There’s a small matter of some rumors floating around about our boss. Maybe you’ve heard of him, Vingo Stahl? Ring a bell?” Gi questioned.
“Vingo… I… I didn’t start those rumors… I never said nothin’ about Vingo...” Cromartie shot back quickly, gesturing with his arms in the air.
“A little late for denial, don’t ya think?” Jeet said. “Besides… we already know it was you.”
“Well, actually we don’t know for sure.” Gi replied.
“No? Well then what the hell did I get all dressed up for and fly all the way down to Logan for?” Jeet said, genuinely upset.
“Well, we don’t know for sure if Cromartie actually started the rumors himself. But that’s what the word is.” Gi explained.
“That’s what <i>the word</i> is?” Jeet replied.
“Yeh, you know… the word on the street. It’s what people are sayin’.” Gi clarified.
“Oh, well don’t you think we should have gotten that squared away before we came all the way down here?” Jeet asked, seeming more and more frustrated.
“Well it doesn’t really matter whether Cromartie himself started the rumors or not. What matters is that that’s what the public perception is. And if the perception is that Cromartie called Vingo half a fag, then that’s the reality.” Gi said, reasoning with Jeet.
“Well that’s not fair.” Jeet said, turning his attention to the ruffled old man.
“No, I suppose it isn’t. But that’s the reality of the situation. What we do isn’t always fair. Vingo’s got an image to protect and he can’t have just any twat spoutin’ off rumors about him. Real, imaginary, or perceived, it doesn’t matter on the streets.”
“Yeh, you’ve got a point there.” Jeet answered, then turned back to Cromartie. “Well then let’s get this over with, that soup made me hungry. I need to grab a bite.”
“Wait… please… don’t. I never said ANYTHING about Vingo!!!” Cromartie pleaded.
“Apologies for that, I suppose. That’s the rub, isn’t it? If the stiffs on the street think you did, then you might as well have. And Vingo can’t have those stiffs perceivin’ him for weakness, can he?” Jeet asked rhetorically as he leveled his blaster at the man’s forehead.
“No.” Gi said, placing his hand on Jeet’s blaster, lowering it.
“Wot now?” Jeet said, clearly pissed.
For a moment Cromartie clung to the minute possibility that he might live.
“Not in the head… remember? The other thing we have to do?” Gi explained.
“Oh… yeh. That would have been a bloody mess.” Jeet said as he raised his blaster, aiming it at the man’s chest.
In that moment, Cromartie realized that all hope was lost.
Gi Jemaine raised his blaster and the two men shot Cromartie half a dozen times collectively, before he slumped forward onto his desk. <i>Dead</i>.
* * *
Later That Evening – Channel 7 News Cronat City
“This just in. Sconk Kaplin here with Channel 7 News Cronat City. Tronian Cromartie, owner and sole-proprietor of the Ko’di-han Chao Ristorante in Logan Square was found dead today, the victim of a gruesome murder. CCSF Detectives say they found Mr. Cromartie dead in his office today, shot several times in the chest at point blank range with his mouth sewn shut. According to detectives there were no witnesses, and the investigation is ongoing. Tronian Cromartie was survived by his wife, and three kids.”
“Now back to Champ Steele with your latest Sports news and Shockball scores…”
* * *
Gi Jemaine
Jeet Naz
Logan Square District of Cronat City
“So where are we supposed to find this prick?” Gi asked, as he exited the red airspeeder parked. He had a peculiar accent when speaking Basic which wasn’t very common on Carratos.
“In here, I think.” Jeet said displaying the same accent as he exited the airspeeder’s pilot side.
“The Ko’di-han Chao Ristorante?” Gi said, stopping in his tracks; waiting for Jeet to catch up to him.
“Yeh, this is the place.” Jeet said, as he stood right next to Gi.
Ko’di-han Chao Ristorante was a small restaurant with flashing neon signs displaying today’s specials, from outside it was hard to tell what was going on through the many signs and curtains.
“Monkey-Lizard brains? Honestly? Who eats this shit?” Gi asked, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, you haven’t lived until you’ve eaten Monkey brains. They’re delicious.” Jeet replied his brow furrowed feigning sincerity.
Gi didn’t say a word as he looked over at Jeet; disgusted.
“Are you daft? Of course I haven’t eaten Monkey-Lizard-fucking-brains. Are you a twat?” Jeet blurted out with both hands raised.
Gi shook his head, as he sighed.
“Let’s just get in there, shall we? Monkey breath?” Gi said, as he walked up to the entrance.
The door slid open, revealing nearly half a dozen patrons. Some alien, some human or at least <i>near-human</i>. Two of them were in line, and the rest were seated all alone, at one of the 8-or-so tables in the small establishment.
The two men garbed in suits walked up behind the couple that was in line.; a pair of Twi’lek lovers.
“Hey, tail face. Shop’s closed. Why don’t you find somewhere else to eat whatever-the-hell it is that you eat.” Jeet said, tapping the male on the shoulder.
“Well, I…” The female began but Gi interrupted.
“I’m sorry, Miss. What my partner meant to say was, get the fuck out before I grab you by those dangling eels growing out of your head and throw you through the window.”
“That’s what you meant, isn’t it Jeet?” Gi continued, turning to his partner.
“Yeh. I believe it is.” He said, turning to the other patrons. Three of them took the cue and exited hurriedly.
Without hesitation the two Twi’leks scurried out, head-tails twitching in fear.
“Who’s this guy?” Gi said, pointing to the lone customer in the restaurant. He was a human, middle-aged, balding. He just sat there slurping some type of thick green soup, staring out the window oblivious to his surroundings.
“Hey, you. How ‘bout you get the fuck out of here?” Jeet asked, but it was more of an order.
The man sat there, spooning the soup into his mouth; unphased.
“Do you think he’s deaf?” Gi asked.
“Dif?” One of the restaurant employees said, puzzled by the pair’s accent, as he came to the front after the commotion. He appeared to be the chef of this fine cuisine, or at least; that’s what his stained apron would suggest.
“Deaf. He said, deaf.” Jeet said, turning his attention to the human who’d come from the back. The man was still clearly puzzled, not understanding what the pair were saying. “Deaf, as in, if I blow both your ears off with this hand-cannon, you’ll be deaf and won’t be able to hear your own screams when I beat you to death with my left hand.” He said, removing the concealed blaster from behind his back, beneath his suit jacket.
“Your left hand?” Gi questioned.
“Yeh, I do other shit with my right hand y’know? I write with my right hand, I eat. I definitely eat with my right hand, I can’t hold a fork to save me with my left hand. I’d rather not starve to death on account of beating this twat to death with my good hand.” Jeet said, looking at Gi.
“Yeh, I guess that makes sense. I’m right-handed as well but I tend to wank it with my left hand. So it would kind of be a tough decision on that one. I suppose I’d just beat him with the actual pistol itself, y’know?” Gi said, now more concentrated on his side-conversation with Jeet than their business there.
“Yeh, that’s a good idea. You can always use the butt of the pistol. Sometimes I get carried away though, like when I get really pissed I just wanna slug the twat ‘til my knuckles are as bloody as his face.” Jeet replied, not noticing the middle-aged occupant who nonchalantly finished his soup, left a proper tip, and exited the restaurant.
“Well, that’s true. But then you walk out of here lookin’ like a psychopath with blood all over your clean suit. Then you catch a patrol out on the parkway, they get tipped off by your white shirt which is now stained with this twat’s blood, and have a shootout with the whole Cronat City Security Force.” Gi said, as he removed his blaster pistol from the beneath his suit. “Me? I’d rather just put a bolt in the twat’s head and save the hassle. Maybe pour myself a bowl of that yellow soup they got brewin’ over there, you know… enjoy myself for a moment. Work at my own pace.”
“Yeh, good point. That soup does smell awfully good. I thought they only served that stinky alien shit here, but I bet that soup’s delicious.” Jeet replied, looking over to the pot of soup on the other side of the counter.
“What kind of soup is that?” Gi asked, turning his attention to the employee on the other side of the counter.
The man stood there for a moment clearly in shock, before speaking.
“Um.. that… uh… Risillian Lilat Soup.” The man replied, hardly able to put a sentence together.
“Risillian Lilat, ya that does sound good.” Gi interjected.
“Hey, where’s Cromartie?” Jeet asked, turning his attention to the employee.
The employee stood there for a moment, still in shock. “Oh… uh.. Cromartie… ya.. he’s in back.”
“Yeh, that makes sense. They’re usually in back.” Jeet replied.
“Yeah, they are aren’t they? Funny coincidence, that.” Gi said, as he glanced at Jeet before turning back to the employee. “Is anyone else back there with him?”
The human employee shook his head, he was probably telling the truth. He seemed too scared to lie.
“You sure about that? Because I don’t like to be lied too.” Jeet countered.
He shook his head furiously, “No… nobody but Cromartie. All alone.”
“Good, then get the fuck out of here.” Gi said.
The man stood there for a moment, stunned.
“Well, what the fuck are you waiting for? Get the fuck out of here.” Jeet said, as the man immediately started towards the back.
“Hey, numb skull.” Gi said, as the wide-eyed employee turned around. “Go out the front door, eh?” He said, pointing to the entrance behind him.
The frazzled man turned and ran out the front door.
The two men made their way around the counter and through the narrow hall which led to the small kitchen. With their blasters drawn, they came across Cromartie’s office.
Tronian Cromartie was a small-time associate of the Pezzino Family lead by Vitorrioni Callalegroso. The word on the streets was that Cromartie had been the perpetuator of some nasty rumors about <i>Capofamiglia</i> Vingo Stahl, Boss of the Vizzini Family. What the rumor was exactly, was hard to say; as it had no doubt grown substantially since its inception. The gist of the rumors implied that Vingo was on the receiving end of a homo-erotic relationship.
Gi nudged the door open with his blaster which he held in his left hand. Cromartie sat there at his desk, no doubt surprised by the intrusion of the pair both wielding blasters.
He was an older man, with an overly hairy chest and a taste for gold jewelry. His thick bushy gray eyebrows rose as he began to speak. “What’s the meaning of this eh?”
“Hello, Cromartie. My name is Gi Jemaine and this is my partner; Jeet Naz.”
Jeet nodded in agreement, “Pleasure’s ours Cromartie.”
“I’ll get straight to the point if you don’t mind? No reason to beat around the bush.” Gi said.
Cromartie nodded, unable to manage a response.
“There’s a small matter of some rumors floating around about our boss. Maybe you’ve heard of him, Vingo Stahl? Ring a bell?” Gi questioned.
“Vingo… I… I didn’t start those rumors… I never said nothin’ about Vingo...” Cromartie shot back quickly, gesturing with his arms in the air.
“A little late for denial, don’t ya think?” Jeet said. “Besides… we already know it was you.”
“Well, actually we don’t know for sure.” Gi replied.
“No? Well then what the hell did I get all dressed up for and fly all the way down to Logan for?” Jeet said, genuinely upset.
“Well, we don’t know for sure if Cromartie actually started the rumors himself. But that’s what the word is.” Gi explained.
“That’s what <i>the word</i> is?” Jeet replied.
“Yeh, you know… the word on the street. It’s what people are sayin’.” Gi clarified.
“Oh, well don’t you think we should have gotten that squared away before we came all the way down here?” Jeet asked, seeming more and more frustrated.
“Well it doesn’t really matter whether Cromartie himself started the rumors or not. What matters is that that’s what the public perception is. And if the perception is that Cromartie called Vingo half a fag, then that’s the reality.” Gi said, reasoning with Jeet.
“Well that’s not fair.” Jeet said, turning his attention to the ruffled old man.
“No, I suppose it isn’t. But that’s the reality of the situation. What we do isn’t always fair. Vingo’s got an image to protect and he can’t have just any twat spoutin’ off rumors about him. Real, imaginary, or perceived, it doesn’t matter on the streets.”
“Yeh, you’ve got a point there.” Jeet answered, then turned back to Cromartie. “Well then let’s get this over with, that soup made me hungry. I need to grab a bite.”
“Wait… please… don’t. I never said ANYTHING about Vingo!!!” Cromartie pleaded.
“Apologies for that, I suppose. That’s the rub, isn’t it? If the stiffs on the street think you did, then you might as well have. And Vingo can’t have those stiffs perceivin’ him for weakness, can he?” Jeet asked rhetorically as he leveled his blaster at the man’s forehead.
“No.” Gi said, placing his hand on Jeet’s blaster, lowering it.
“Wot now?” Jeet said, clearly pissed.
For a moment Cromartie clung to the minute possibility that he might live.
“Not in the head… remember? The other thing we have to do?” Gi explained.
“Oh… yeh. That would have been a bloody mess.” Jeet said as he raised his blaster, aiming it at the man’s chest.
In that moment, Cromartie realized that all hope was lost.
Gi Jemaine raised his blaster and the two men shot Cromartie half a dozen times collectively, before he slumped forward onto his desk. <i>Dead</i>.
* * *
Later That Evening – Channel 7 News Cronat City
“This just in. Sconk Kaplin here with Channel 7 News Cronat City. Tronian Cromartie, owner and sole-proprietor of the Ko’di-han Chao Ristorante in Logan Square was found dead today, the victim of a gruesome murder. CCSF Detectives say they found Mr. Cromartie dead in his office today, shot several times in the chest at point blank range with his mouth sewn shut. According to detectives there were no witnesses, and the investigation is ongoing. Tronian Cromartie was survived by his wife, and three kids.”
“Now back to Champ Steele with your latest Sports news and Shockball scores…”
* * *
Gi Jemaine
Jeet Naz
