History Repeating

[Ugoto Chivaro]

DENON

"You know what this is, pal? You want to take a good look at this for me," Eugene slapped the folder onto the bureaucrat's desk and leaned back in his seat, arms folded. "Go ahead and take a hard look at those files for me and tell me what it is you pick up with those eyes of your's."

As head of customs on Denon, Rodger Winklesham was used to two things and two things exactly: filling out paperwork and coordinating the inspection of cargo. Nothing about his education at the local university had prepared him for anything else. Nothing about his ten years in the customs department had prepared him for anything else either. And yet here he was, facing down this Atrisian-Mandalorian looking gentleman who had arrived unannounced, waving folders filled with flimsiplast everywhere. Rodger was, understandably, confused.

"I'm not sure I..."

Eugene slammed a hand on the table, directly on top of the folder, and slid it closer to Rodger. "Read it." He said, venomous eyes never parting from Rodger.

After Eugene removed his hand, Rodger tentatively stuck his out, half-afraid that Eugene would somehow chop it off in the three seconds it took to take the folder and crack it open. Immediately, Rodger wished he had not actually looked into the folder. But once he did, he could no longer look away. There were photographs. Dozens of them.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

And these were not lovely, happy, artsy photographs. They were clandestine ones- taken of him and his mistress. Rodger loved his wife more than anything in the world, but he also loved Clemencia. And, upon flipping further into it, he also had to justify his equal love to Candice, Hermoine, and and Fredrick. Okay, Rodger got around. He supposed no one would judge him if they did know, but as it stood he would rather not mess up his current marriage.

They were happy together. Ish. Usually. Several kids. But she'd take everything from him if she pushed for divorce! This couldn't be happening. And yet, it was.

"My boss is willing to make this whole thing go away for you, pal." Eugene explained. "All you's got to do is play ball."

Rodger, zoned out momentarily, snapped back into it and abruptly closed the folder. "Wh- What do you want me to do?"

"Stop inspecting some cargo."

Come to think of it, Rodger should have seen that one coming. What else would someone blackmail him for?

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

RENDILI

It had all started as another normal day in the office. Normal compared to yesterday, at least, when that weird Nikto had shown up and tried to threaten him. But Uel Fin-Urik was no victim, no sir-ee. Like any self-respecting Weequay customs official, he stood his ground in the face of corruption. They thought that just because they could send some spook after him in goofy black armor, he was going to bow to them? Not a chance. Nothing would prevent him from making sure he and his team inspected every single cargo pod that came through this Blackwell Agriworks warehouse. Top to bottom. Fore to aft. Port to starboard. And then some! It was like asking the sun not to shine, the moon not to... Orbit.

Little did Uel realize that if he was not working for the Nikto's so-called "Helix Syndicate," he was working against it. Working against the Helix Syndicate was apparently grounds for getting fired. The area supervisor had intercepted him on the way to his office that morning, which was especially weird considering the area supervisor never came down here. "Uel, uh." He tugged at his collar and fidgeted. "We're having some... Budget cuts. You're out."

Uel, who had worked in this field for some twenty-something years, blinked. His father had been a customs agent. His father's father had been a customs agent. Uel was damn near sure that every Fin-Urik had been a customs agent right from the moment being a customs agent was a thing. Now they were telling him he was fired! Over budget cuts! What budget cuts? There hadn't been budget cuts in years! Rendili loved its customs department!

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

"What're you talking about? I've worked here-"

"And now you don't, Uel. Now get out."

"What about- what about my office?"

The supervisor got a little shifty eyed. "It- uh- someone's cleaning it out for you now."

"Here you go, wrinkles." Said a nasty voice from behind Uel. The Weequay turned to see the same Nikto in strange armor from earlier, holding a box loaded with Uel's personal effects. There were a pair of strange, armed men standing behind him. Red and black target helmets. Very strange. The Nikto dropped the box at Uel's feet. "Now scram. We got an appointment with your replacement."

For some strange reason, Uel had the sinking feeling that this replacement might be someone more amenable to the idea of being negligent in the inspection of certain cargo materials... But that seemed...

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

DENON

Ogedei the Besalisk strolled into the warehouse after kicking the doors open. Enforcers marched past him as harsh sunlight bathed the warehouse's empty interior in unwelcome light. Scores of homeless, drug users, and other miscreants had been squatting in here. No longer. On behalf of Blackwell Agriworks, they were taking control of this warehouse. And part of requisitioning the warehouse, prior to remodeling it, was getting rid of these homeless mooks clogging the interior. All the furniture was ramshackle and disgusting, most people just slept on crumpled bags and paper.

"Alright, take a hike, you bunch of moochers." Ogedei boomed. If any of the squatters had thoughts of resisting, they were destroyed at the sight of the giant Besalisk. Four, muscled arms. Four giant blaster pistols clipped to his belt. It was a look that just screamed, "go ahead, make my day."

"You can't do this! We live here!" Someone said, only to be smacked in the mouth by a Guavian stun baton. The electrical charge floored the man, disallowing him the opportunity for further protest. He was dragged outside and left on the curb. Everyone else left on their own accord.

The main mission of Blackwell Agriworks was to deliver much needed food to the ecumenopolis core worlds as quickly an efficiently as possible. Part of doing that meant that Agriworks ships needed their own, personal landing pads and storage facilities. Of course, inspections would still need to be taking place. Token ones, at least. It was the principle of the matter.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

The government officials Vulgrim Blackwell had negotiated with did not take him for a smuggler and found his suggestion to streamline the process of shipping food to be in their best interests. Customs officials would just be stationed on site, rather than have the Agriworks ships and their much-needed cargo be bogged down in port for so long.

After that, all that was needed was to tug the necessary strings to make sure the Helix Syndicate's favored officials were put in charge of customs at each Blackwell Warehouse. Favored, you read, although in reality it would be more apt to say... Compromised. Such as those who have been elevated to their position through Syndicate meddling. Or those blackmailed into being negligent in their customs duties.

Not that Ogedei was aware of any of this intricacy. No, this was just a paid job: scraping homeless people out of a warehouse. Nothing terribly exciting. He did not have a mind for such things.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

DENON

When Helix Syndicate Enforcers showed up somewhere, they tended to attract attention. The distinct Guavian style of their attire and their growing reputation for ruthlessness would attract the notice of all but the densest of the criminal underworld. One of the particularly aware gangs was the Scrapers on Denon. They were a small-time outfit, local. But they had a nice degree of power on the streets they controlled, enjoying moderate prices for the spice they dealt and the racketeering they engaged in. When they heard the Syndicate was in town, those big-time gangsters from the Pentastar Sectors, they decided they wanted in.

Their leader, a Zabrak named Lucius, saw this as his ticket to the big leagues. He could buddy up to these Syndicate fellows. Mooch off their support, then break off and go from there when he was big enough in his own right. He could use them to snuff out rival gangs, cement his own control. Yes, it would all work out so well. The one major flaw in this plan, Lucius realized, was that the Helix Syndicate had absolutely no desire to deal with small timers. People like Lucius were beneath his notice unless he managed to irritate them.

And if Lucius irritated them, then there would be nothing left of Lucius. Just like there was nothing left of those two big companies, Galentro and Dynamic...

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

This didn't really dawn on Lucius until the Besalisk had shown up in his headquarters. "You want to know what a Yuuzhan-Vong would do to a pretty-boy like you? I've seen that chit, son. I've seen it. It's gruesome." Ogedei leaned forward across the desk, two giant fists balling on top of it. "So let me be clear when I say, that if you stick your karkin' pretty-boy twinkletoes nose anywhere near our business again, I'm going to do that to you times ten. You reading me, Lucy? Debra? Whatever the hell your damn girl name is?"

Lucius glanced to his guards, who were too busy staring down the Syndicate Specialists that had escorted Ogedei in. For amateurs such as themselves, the presence of the white-helmed soldiers was like staring death into place.

"I'm... Reading you." Lucius whispered.

Ogedei pounded the desk with one hand, giving it a severe crack and making Lucius flinch. Ogedei smiled, exposing rows of vile, sharpened teeth. "Good. Make sure your pals know we had this talk."

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

RENDILI

Word didn't travel fast between Rendili and Denon. Even if it did, there was no way Mattick the Gills would have paid it any mind. Mattick was a Mon Cal kingpin on Rendili. Not a lot of spice got pushed through the streets without him knowing about it. With the arrival of the Helix Syndicate on his turf, Mattick was not looking to play ball for them. The way he saw it, they should have been playing ball for him. He was here first, he had seniority. If they were not willing to pay his rates, his fees for doing business in his territory, then they were going to need to prepare for a gang war.

And what a gang war it would be.

Mattick was already making plans to find out the Syndicate's connections in the customs department. He had no leads as of now, but as soon as he did, those guys were as good as dead. Then he'd burn down their karking warehouse and dare them to come after him. They had to know who he was- he was a Kingpin here! One of the most pervasive crime lords on the planet. He wasn't going to be bullied out of business by some off-worlders from millions of lightyears away. They would see reason or they would dash themselves trying to fight a war against him.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

In a sense, Mattick was right. The Syndicate did know who he was and that he would not be willing to work in their favor rather than his own. They had simply elected to ignore it, because they intended to deal with it later. They purchased their warehouse and set up their contacts, and once they caught wind of Mattick's plot, things were set in motion. Knowing Mattick and his outfit necessitated knowing Mattick's second-in-command. The heir to Mattick's empire would be much more open to persuasion. If not, Mattick's death would destabilize his criminal holdings to the point where they were no longer worthy of the Syndicate's consideration.

One day, Mattick got into his speeder and it exploded. Five people died.

Tragic, that this could not be avoided by virtue of reasoning. Mattick's successor agreed to Syndicate terms shortly afterward, but was himself assassinated by another rival shortly afterwards. From there, things devolved as expected...

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

RENDILI

Ogedei should have expected more homeless people. These city-worlds were known for two things: big cities, big homeless populations. He could understand the attraction towards empty warehouses, sort of. Big, spacious structures. Not exactly good for the winter, but it looked like these guys made due. Big 'ol fire pits, burning barrels, that sort of thing. Lots of blankets. Ogedei felt half-bad about kicking them out, half-ambivalent. It was always the ambivalence that got him. So many places to go in this city... They could find another warehouse to squat in.

"Wakey-wakey, bub." Ogedei nudged a sleeping one with his foot. "Hey! I said wake up!"

The Besalisk rolled him over and studied him, then came to a conclusion. "Oh. This one's dead." He looked around and waved over an Enforcer. "Hey! You drag this one. He's dead."

The Enforcer was, internally, upset that he had corpse duty. He dared not express such sentiments out loud, of course. Ogedei was known for his temper when wronged. It was never over anything as small as expressing distaste for an order, but... Well, why chance it?

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

The Enforcer struggled with the corpse, rigor having set in, but managed to start dragging it out by its feet anyway. Policy was, as far as emptying warehouses went, was to leave any corpses on the nearest corner. As long as they were of natural causes, anyway. If a homeless fellow died resisting expulsion, they had to be more careful about that. As in, "incinerate the corpse by shooting at it with disruptors."

Not like anyone was going to miss them. Disposing of them honestly would have been too much paperwork for Ogedei's taste. Plus, they wasted less time that way. Planet-wide cities like this, graves were for the wealthy. Anyone without a hundred thousand credits to spare on a lavish monument got incinerated. Practically a law at this point.

"We got any other stiffs hangin' around in here?" Ogedei called up to an Enforcer on the second-floor walkway.

"Negative, sir."

"Yeah, that's good. Good. Don't like havin' to deal with 'em." Ogedei moved, waddling away.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

DEEP SPACE SHADOWPORT

Someone had a lot of karking gall. Either that or they had no idea who they were stealing from. An un-escorted Agriworks freighter got yanked out of hyperspace and hijacked by pirates. What was supposed to just be a simple raid for the ship itself turned into the mother load of all jackpots for the pirates. Crates upon crates of high quality spice, freshly imported from Remnant-occupied Rishi. The simpletons were too stoked on their haul to really appreciate the gravity of the ring they had just stepped on.

Ogedei had been sent to inform them.

What they failed to notice in all the excitement was that the Syndicate had a tendency to use crates that came with built-in tracking devices. Especially for the crates that were intended to hold their expensive, expensive cargo. Sometimes a stray crew member might be informed of their actual cargo and could otherwise be tempted. The fact that they could be tracked down before they got very far with any of the haul served as a nice way to dissuade them from foolish mistakes. Unfortunately, the knowledge of the tracking devices had not spread to the rest of the criminal underground. Why would it?

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

The Dupre-Class Shuttle entered the landing bay of the shadowport and immediately shot its boarding ramp out. The Besalisk and a platoon of Guavians exited the shuttle. The hangar manager approached them to ask for the docking fee, but was greeted only by the butt of a rifle being smacked into his face. It was fine, they wouldn't be staying long. There was no hesitation or delay in the movements of Ogedei and his men. They knew exactly where they were going, the exact location of the crates already determined. The Enforcers barged into a small market area and one of them established the attention of the crowd by firing a few warning shots into the air.

Most people scattered immediately. The rest ducked into stalls to hide, thinking a massacre was on their hands. Not at all. The only person of interest to the Syndicate was an Arconan merchant whose stalls were lined with crates bearing the Blackwell logo. Ogedei grabbed him by the scruff of his neck as he attempted to flee, yanking him over and setting the merchant down in front of him. "Who," Ogedei growled in a thunderous voice, "Sold you these crates?"

The Arconan blubbered something and Ogedei encouraged him to speak more clearly by punching him in the chest. This, it turned out, was more than enough to get the merchant's memory back in order.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

TATOOINE

Bosco was a reputable pirate here in these parts of the Outer Rim. He took from the rich, like those Blackwell Agriworks scum, and gave to the needy. Mostly himself and fences, but then sometimes poor people if the mood struck him right. The fact that he gave anything at all to poor people instead of killing, robbing, or kidnapping them as well made him a “reputable” pirate when compared to his colleagues.

For the most part, Bosco was fine with this reputation. It meant the common folk were more likely to side with him in… Government disputes. They saw him as a folk hero- rumors of his generosity became more and more exaggerated the farther away from Tatooine you got. It worked in his favor. Civilians liked to tip him off to juicy targets. He even got an anonymous tip about one of those Blackwell frigates carrying something other than food. Easy money. And by now the trail would have gone cold, and Bosco's tidy profit would be spent on wine and women.

That was what he was in this cantina for. "Did I ever tell you the story, sweetness-" Bosco gave a hiccup, jostling the Twi'lek on his lap. "-of a guy named Bingo Two-Cannons?"

She giggled and shook her head. Bosco did not notice the two men with red and black target-shaped helmets enter the cantina.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

"It goes like this. Once, Bingo was a big, big-shot pirate. Had a big ol' star destroyer, crew of like thirty thousand. Crazy stuff. But he lost it all, yeah? Got in a big fight with the Galactic Republic. The old one, not the- not the small one buzzin' around now, you get it?"

The Enforcers were making their way over now, but Bosco still didn't pay any attention. The Twi'lek was running her fingers through his hair, smiling sweetly, giggling where prompted.

"So all's he got left is a broken down Corellian Corvette. Junked up, barely flies. All it got's is two cannons- just two. You believe that? Can hardly myself, but that's just how the story goes. Anyway, Bingo takes this corvette-"

Two figures arrived in front of Bosco. "Move." One of them said to the Twi'lek, who took one look at the Helix Syndicate Enforcer and departed.

Understandably, Bosco was displeased. "Who the kark? What the hell-"

The second Enforcer moved out from behind his accomplice, brandishing a CZ-838 Combat Shotgun. Bosco only had time to widen his eyes before the weapon discharged, acid rounds turning his face and upper torso into pulp. There was a brief upswell of screaming and startled yelling in the cantina, but it quickly died out into silence. Bosco, now unrecognizable, tumbled over to the side. There was a faint sizzling sound after the body thumped into the floor, the acid working its course regardless of the fact that it was overkill.

The Enforcer pumped the shotgun, ejecting the spent shell and allowing it to clatter to the floor. In a feeble attempt to break the earsplitting silence. His accomplice cast his enigmatic gaze over the rest of the club, which quickly resumed their own personal conversations as if nothing had happened. Without another word, the Enforcers exited the bar.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

ON THE TOPIC OF THE GREAT BLACKWELL SPICE RING - PART ONE

You’re probably wondering how, exactly, this whole spice smuggling thing works for the Helix Syndicate. Although the idea was hatched by the Syndicate and the pieces maneuvered into place by the Syndicate, the majority of the show was stolen by others. Namely, Thengil Ri’Shajirr and Tai Fa. But before I can tell you that story, I have to tell you this one.

Back in the day, on a shadowport no one ever heard of, there was an Aqualish named Narbo. Narbo was not a smart man, but he was a strong enough one. Persistent. He could also be easily manipulated as a proxy, which was what inspired the Syndicate to purchase his debt from a Hutt Lord and improve Narbo’s business standing. They cleaned up his enterprise on the shadowport, upgrading his equipment and giving his competition the boot. Before long, Narbo was he primary dealer on the shadowport.

The next step of the plan from there was to have Narbo establish spice plantations on Rishi. It was a remote enough planet, there should have been little issue.

Narbo couldn’t transport on his own, however. He lacked the mind for logistics, or even basic math and common etiquette for that matter. To actually transport the product, the Syndicate would find another, innocuous party: Vulgrim Blackwell. The Maelibus rancher had fallen on some hard times on Ukio, thanks to the Fulcrum Cattle Company. Intervention by the Syndicate saw Blackwell’s debts forgiven and Fulcrum’s monopoly not only broken, but shifted in control to Vulgrim.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

ON THE TOPIC OF THE GREAT BLACKWELL SPICE RING - PART TWO

Since foodstuffs were a priority to get to the core, all it took was some finagling with corrupt government officials and corrupt bureaucrats to get the spice flowing. Narbo grew the spice, Vulgrim settled it on his transport freighters. The Syndicate had worked out a deal that allowed Blackwell’s ships an express lane through customs. No small feat, and it made the smuggling process that much easier. Vulgrim was to keep the majority of the profits off his sale of food and a 5% cut of the sales from the spice. Narbo, too, would get a 5% cut and a small portion of spice to keep for his own ends.

The Helix Syndicate was looking at keeping 90% of the profits. A steal. But everything changed when Maleagant’s fellow Sith decided they wanted in. There was no choice in the matter- Tai Fa had manipulated Vulgrim into selling a company he had no legal right to sell. Thengil had seized control of Narbo’s plantations through military force. Fortunately, Fa and Ri’shajirr both needed the Syndicate to operate- otherwise they would have no contacts on the Core Worlds to sell to.

Now the Syndicate was looking at only 33% of the profits, although they did manage to get Tai Fa to part with a 33% stake in his magrail systems on Erilnar. Coupled with other profitable enterprises the Syndicate recently expanded to, this more than made up for the loss in projected profits. Although nothing would ever quite soothe Maleagant’s wounded ego. The plus side was that the micromanagement needed to keep things operational was now no-longer necessary.

So, don’t worry, this still counts as a major project.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

DENON

Stress, stress, stress. That was all Ogedei ever got to deal with. If it wasn't some spook of a pirate trying to grab a hold of Blackwell Agriworks cargo, it was some two-bit criminal nitwit undercutting their prices. The Helix Syndicate was trying to run a spice smuggling operation here and all they ever encountered was obstacle after obstacle. Ogedei would have loved to have seen if this little joint-operation undertaken by the Syndicate and its two seedy allies had actually made any money yet. Ogedei had hardly seen any of it, after all! All in due time, they kept promising. All in due time. Well, while they kept promising, Ogedei just got more and more agitated.

It was this aggitation that he took out on some criminal spook who was trying to undercut the Syndicate's spice prices.

Ogedei knew who his handler was. It was Waylon. Every time something annoying happened- not severely detrimental or even all that damaging; just annoying -it was Waylon behind it. Still, Ogedei had to have actual confirmation first. Holding the dealer by the throat, Ogedei smashed him into the wall. He gasped from the blow, and the Besalisk tightened his grip on the dealer's throat. He coughed and gagged, grasping in utter futility at Ogedei's gargantuan forearms. Behind him, a few Enforcers were keeping watch, just in case Waylon had sent this fellow friends in addition to money.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

"One more time. Who are you working for?"

To facilitate a faster response, Ogedei's grip on the dealer's throat slacked. He sucked in air for a few minutes, then blurted out a response.

"I- I don't-" He was cut off when Ogedei's hand tightened again. Eyes bulged. These guys never learned, did they?

"Some guy from the, the-" The dealer was struggling to squeak the words out, but Ogedei did not lighten up. He believed in the dealer. He could get it all out without help. "-Waylon, urk! Syndicate!"

Ogedei released the man, allowing him to slide to the ground. He coughed for what seemed like an eternity, caressing his bruised neck. "I don't know who they are! They just gave me the difference and told me to sell..."

"I get that, but, you know. Gotta keep up appearances."

"Wh-"

Holding the dealer by the top of the head, Ogedei twisted. Like he was unscrewing the lid off a jar. There was a sickening crack and the dealer went limp. Ogedei allowed him to fall to the floor. All in a day's work. Now most folks in this sector would be wary before accepting any deals that were too good to be true. The Syndicate was now the top dog in the spice trade down here. They'd do well to remember that.