Log:Hutt Cartel: The Smelly Belly Gang Strikes!

The Smelly Belly Gang Strikes!

OOC Date: January 31, 2017
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Eebua Gnuda as GM, Moergog, Rheisa Dirleel, Blingo, Eilam, Maeve Zavir, Idony, Zhu Yan, The Hutt Cartel

The odd blackouts that had been plaguing the Gearhead District for the last week are still managing to elude all repair technicians sent into the district to solve the problem. Production results from Nar Shaddaa's various factories is down, and quite a few shop keepers are expressing heated displeasure with the complications brought about by frequent power outages. Many citizens find reasons to be elsewhere when the nighttime hours come along, thinking the industrial sector no place to be when power and by extension light drops. As such, the district is seeing little activity at this time of evening, though the lights are still functioning and bathe the district walkways outside of Shug Nix's Spacebarn in a warm orange glow.

Moergog, one of the local technicians in the Gearhead District worked around the clock. When he needed sleep or food, he slept or ate, but the irregular outages had made getting his projects done at his ship repair facility straining at best. So, like everything else on the Smuggler's Moon, things were going to hell in a handbasket and he finally had enough and decided that he was going to break down and buy a portable fusion generator to power his shop during all the outages. It was tiring having to recallibrate all his computer equipment after random power outages or periods of low-voltage. It is what brings the Verpine out of his shop, followed by a rolling white and neon-green BB-model astromech. "I should invest in a Binary Load Lifter," the chitinous alien says to the droid, who beeps a few times in response. "I know I have a big one in the shop, but it's for hoisting engines and doesn't work well for carrying smaller crates down a street."

Not everyone needs the bright eyes of security lights to navigate by. For the first time in a long while, Rheisa's made a pass through her Gearhead hunting grounds - plenty of places in nooks and crannies for duracrete rats to burrow and grow fat on franklyshedoesntwanttoknow. It's been a decent few hours' fruit for her labor and her satchel's reached its comfortable arrying capacity. The Togruta is on her way back to flagging down a hovercab and emerges from the shadows to tread the hazy line of Shug's illumination.

Moving through the warm orange glow of the light that spills onto the walkway outside of Shug Nix's Spacebarn, and accompanied by a protocol droid with which she is in the middle of a rather quietly voiced debate with, Mae has her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket as she moves. The sound of her heels striking the pavement is guided by a careful assessment of the lay of the land and where to avoid stepping, so as to avoid ruining her shoes, as she and Jane continue along.

Eilam even being here at this time of night wasn't even really something that normally happened. The slave had not much reason to ever be in this part of town unless it was business and as it happened tonight, he was tasked with going out and handling business. At the moment, the faintly glowing ghostling was making his way back down the main thoroughfare of the district. With him he had a rather ratty-looking satchel, which was quite contrary to the expensive-looking fabrics he had on his person. Dancing did require looking the part after all, extra tools and accessories did not necessarily need luxury travel though.

With one hand, however, he seemed to be idly messing with a piece of poly-synth pole of sorts, only a couple of feet long at best. Twirling it around idly, back and forth, not even staring at it as he did such.

In the twillight, a Talz progresses in its odd way of walking, like an awkward teenager who had grown up too fast. Soon enough, he meets with a female human that was hanging out underneath a neon sign reading: DRINK ASTRO LIGHT. The Talz tweets, chirps, buzzes. The woman whispers something and the both of them exchange an intricate handshake. The Talz rummages in his sidebag and hands over something small that fits in one's hand. The human nods and the Talz resumes its stroll in the direction of the Spacebarn.

Darkness is often a street rat's friend, and as such, the rolling blackouts didn't worry the blue skinned, black haired wroonian (Idony) as they made their way along the edge of the street. A rancor hide jacket of non-descript color that looks like it was once a bright color and then dyed with a darker color to try and make it blend in has turned into a drab olive-like color that blends in with the background. The youth's black hair was short and spiky, messed around the face that had a strong chin but delicate nose, one of those almost impossible to genderize faces.

Kitted out in his identity-concealing CNG S3 armor, and lacking the Bryar that served as a visible identifier, Zhu Yan looked like any other thug slash bounty hunter slash mercenary slash overall miscreant on this drab spitball of a planet. A job was a job, and sometimes when you're cutting the line a bit too fine you take what you could get. And one must always preserve their identity if not their integrity. "Alright ladies and gents, it's a simple smash and grab. We get in, take what we can, and get out. Comprende?" he asked the assembled team in front of him, also covered in various identity-concealing garments. It was time for some chaos.

Zhu Yan's team of miscreants are four strong, not counting Zhu Yan himself. Presently they are unseen on the rooftop of Shug's Spacebarn, crowded around a small and quite narrow sky light. Consisting of a few different species, desperate enough for the credit offered by whoever their unknown backer might be, they are all of average and unassuming appearance. Most are thin, save for one pudgy Bothan that looks as though he might have quite a bit of trouble squeezing through that tiny sky light. The thugs all grunt and nod their heads to their team leader, and the entry specialist of the team crouches to create their entrance.... in the inadvisable form of a heavy wrench. The Abyssan draws back and swings, the wrench smashing the duraglass and sending a shower of shards raining down inside the spacebarn. He promptly secures a rope and tosses it through the hole even as alarms begin to split the otherwise quiet nighttime air. "There you go, Captain," he grunts. "Time to go."

Out in the street, the alarms split shrilly through the darkness, angry red lights spinning in alert while the door of Shug's flies open and a human woman in her mid-twenties, recognizable by some as Spira Nix, comes running out at a sprint screaming, "Help! Thieves! Someone help!" and off she goes, running toward the offices of security personnel across the District.

Delightfully oblivious, and determined to get his pieces and parts to keep his shop running during all these outages, Moe had no clue what was going on overhead as he waled in front of the Spacebarn, his biggest competitor, not by quality but by volume. He didn't even give the spacebarn anything more than a cursory look. "I do hope..." he seems to be about to say as the alarms begins shrilling in the building net to him. If the Verpine had lips, he might even smile, but having a chitinous exoskeleton didn't leave much room for facial emotions. "Well..." Moe says as he makes it a point to venture across the street back towards his own shop, making sure he's in range before pulling a small remote from his pocket and clicking a few buttons. Soon, the personel door leading into Moe's Ship Repairs is filled by the form of a large security droid wielding a pair of G8 Stun Rifles and on full alert. "That should keep my shop safe," he mutters, glancing towards the trailing BB-unit. "Too bad about Shug Ninx's though, huh?" he asks, and even in his flat tone, there's a hint of sarcasm in the Verpine's speech before he clitters his mandibles together in what might pass for a laugh.

The sound of a familiar voice floats through the air to tickle at Rheisa's warily attuned senses. It's Maeve! The wash of streetlights confirm /where/ as the human strolls through it ahead of her. Rheisa quickens her shoeless step, slinking up alongside the flank not guarded by the protocol droid before falling into pace with Maeve. Rather than issuing a greeting of some sort to alert/forewarn the woman to her sudden presence, the 'gruta remains silent. It'd be rude to interrupt the conversation held with 'Jane', after all.

And then the sound of shattered glass and fragile nerves joins forces with the deafeningly pitched wail of a siren and ruins her politeness. To say it catches her offguard would be an understatement. Waves of piercingly hot white echo through her montrals, stabbing at her brain, and Rheisa responds in turn with a shouted somethingeranother, head tucking to shelter between curling arms.

Startled out of the conversation that she's having with Jane (really, protocol droids DO make the best verbal sparring partners!), Mae pivots toward the sound of distress that she hears and does two things at the same time. She pulls Jane aside and carefully edging herself and her protocol droid a step off the path and deeper into the shadows of what ever it is that they're nearest, Mae hushes Jane with a gesture and reaches out a worried hand to Rheisa. "Hush," she murmurs as she edges a half step out so that she's in a protective stance between the edge of the sidewalk than Rheisa and Jane are. The droid gives that mutely eloquent expression but doesn't voice any suggestion as yet, give it time. On any other world? Maybe people would pour out of their shops or homes to help. On Nar Shaddaa? That's just asking for it.

For his part the sudden sound of something shattering, and alarms, had the slave dancer pause and quickly trot towards the closest place at a wall to stand against such. It was less he seemed scared at the moment and more he just seemed to be /getting out of the way/, though really it was hard not to stand out, given his glowing look and just in general standing out. The sound of the alarm made the most sense to try and figure out where it was coming from, Eilam eventually looking towards the spacebarn and those who were running out shouting of thieves.

There was no attempt at heroics on Eilams part, deciding it was more prudent to simply stay out of the way and try to avoid giving any would-be thieves a chance to think he's a potential risk. He continued to fidget with the piece of the poly-synth staff, idly hoping the power didn't suddenly drop.

The Talz, briefly seized by the fracas, turns 180 degrees and hastens his walk toward the closest cover he could find: an overflowing garbage bin sitting by the edge of the street. There he kneels, peeking over the junk. "Wrrrooo?" asks his sidebag, which flaps flaps briefly. "Come back in here, you will get killed!" warns a muffled droid voice coming form the same bag, sounding worried. A wave of fur makes its way up Blingo's back, until a third pair of eyes peeks over Blingo's head, a black cat's eyes. Blingo whirrs, unslinging his rifle.

Skipping out of the way of the fleeing shop owner, Idony ended up against the wall of the barn with red lights washing over the blue face and hands for a moment. The youth's head tilts, considering how long it will take the owner to get to the security and how long it will take the thieves to get what they want and leave. As this consideration is going on, eyes light on an empty cargo sack hanging on a nail. Taking a few strides forward, the youth tugs it down, then looks down to the ground, and finds some rubbish to stuff into the sack. Moving fast, eyes on the door, the wroonian doesn't stray far.

"Oh come on," the Captain groaned. There was the simple solution, and then the stupid one. His teammate had opted for stupid. The masked man cursed himself before remembering he was the one who put the team together at the lowest bidder. Oh well, it just meant more reward for him. As befitting the bravest, most noble, and the biggest scumbag, the Captain was the first down the rope. "Alright chaps, grab what you can, then hit the streets. NSec never comes out this way," he lied, "so feel free to take as much as you can carry." As befitting a good Captain (hah), the disguised man headed towards the entrance, ready to throw open the gates and allow his team to escape into the night.

The thugs atop the roof are quick to the rope as soon as Zhu Yan begins his descent. The last to hop onto the rope is the poor pudgy Bothan, whose gut hangs on the metal frame of the broken skylight. His feet run in mid air and kick a few times to force a few more inches of his pudge through the frame as he grunts and curses, "No one told me that we'd have to squeeze through a tight little hole or I would have worn my damn girdle." Finally he manages to kick his way through the too-tight space and his hands are hardly ready to catch the rope. He descends much too fast, the rope sliding quickly with enough velocity to burn his palms. It isn't a break neck speed, but he does collide with the poor Rodian beneath him who gets a surprised face full of Bothan butt. Both of them fall free of the rope and plummet the last five or six feet to thud on the ground.

There is only a brief moment while the not-so-bright thugs compose themselves, and then it is a mad dash, stuffing random parts into the canvas sacks hung around their shoulders. Four bags are filled, and then the sound of heavy running feet reach the Captain's ears and he only has just so long to push the door back open leading out into the street and hop out of the way.

Those in the street can hear the sound of the door bang open over the warbling sirens, moments before the thug squad comes charging out. Whooping and yelling in true thief fashion(stupid thieves anyways), they charge out of the shop. One pulls a blaster free and pops off a shot across the street which glances off of Moe's guardian droid's plating, while the Rodian squeals loudly, "You'll never catch the Smelly Belly Gang!"

Completely content to allow the Spacebarn to get robbed, and the security droid on high alert in his own shop, Moe starts heading back towards the electronics shop to pick up a fusion generator. With the alarms blaring, shop doors along the street started locking up. The glowing lamps in the windows reading 'OPEN' were quickly dispersed. Much to Moergog's dismay, the shop he was heading to was one of those that closed rapidly. "Sithspit," Moe curses in his flat tone before looking back to his BB unit. "I guess we should get back home," he says, turning to head back to his own shop, still content with not getting involved in the alleged robbery of his competition. Who knows, maybe the culprits will steal something good and he can pick it up for a discount.

Of course, that's when a blaster bolt flies across the street to impact into the security droid's armor. The modified LE-VO droid twitches with the impact of the burning plasma. Soon, a flashing red light on the droid's shoulder comes on. **ALERT....ALERT....THIS FACILITY IS UNDER PROTECTION OF THE HONORABLE LORD EEBUA....ALERT....ALERT** the droid bellows from it's built-in loudspeaker. This of course gets Moergog's attention and he stops his forward momentum. "Maybe we should find a place to hide," he tells his droid, and moves towards some cover. The security droid was programmed not to act unless someone pushed towards Moe's shop, the loose agreements he had with the local Hutt was hopefully security enough without having his shop shot to hell. Re-calibrating all his equipment after a firefight would cost him days of hassle.

"Make stop!" Rheisa mewls plaintively at Maeve, like she's got the remote or something. If only. Her chest rumbles with all sorts of unhappy notes and she takes a woozily lurching step to push around the good doctor to try and go IN the doors that employee just fled from. Its an alarm - the flashing lights say so. Noddrek's place lit up like this at least once a week, till someone finally put the bulbs out of their misery. HOW one goes about deactivating the alarm, however, she hasnt a clue, but she looks like shes bent on finding out. WHY it went off in the first place, well, thats not her problem. It's Shug's. A flash of the perturbing Rodians face ripples through the pain cloud fuzzing her brain and she finds a new surge of motivation to get this thing to shut u---

The Togruta hits the deck for a second time as the doors burst open and she's suddenly in danger of being trampled by a rowdy bad-men brigade. Theres perceived movement everywhere, so she ducks into the smallest ball possible and minimize collision risk until it passes. Hopefully.

"What in the name of - - " bursts from Mae as she hears the sudden bellow from a loudspeaker accompanied by, of all things, a flashing RED light. On Nar Shaddaa? "Of all the. ." she sounds appalled as much by the loud noise as by the attention it could bring and takes a knee beside Rheisa. "We have got to get out of here," she says in a low - urgent - tone of voice. "Please, Tazi," she implores and sends a worried/wary look around and back to the 'gruta ducked into a ball.

"Vvvrrroooeee!" Blingo the Talz whirrs loudly, showing himself briefly to wave at those who do not have a whole shop to hide at. "Blingo says to... hide and seek... I think?" the unseen droid translates at the top of its vococorder, muffled by Blingo's bag. Blingo points once at the spot behind his trash heap before going back in cover, the black cat just hanging on to the back of Blingo's head, its tail whipping nervously.

Idony, watching the doors, and the street, and brows draw together interested, as the togruta is striding towards the shop. The doors burst open, and Rheisa drops into a ball, and the youth springs into action. "Oy!" is called out as the little one plants themselves in front of the togruta, just in time to protect her from the fat bothan stumbling out behind the rest. The blue arms shove at the thief and his sack, almost tumbling the rescuer over the rescuee, but then the wroonian has their balance back, and gives a final shove to the bothan. One hand goes to sling the sack back onto the thin back from where it had slipped down one slim arm. Turning, the wroonian looks down to the ball of togruta, and offers a hand. "Hey, wanna get up 'fer anythin' else comes tramplin' through. Let's get ya outta here."

"Schuttas," said the Captain in a tone bordering on endearing. The Smelly Belly Gang had done their job well, and like a good gang member the Captain had been shooting out cameras with a tiny little 411 blaster he kept handy for specialized electronics work. Now it was time to do what he needed to do. Instead of making his idiotic escape, he fired the holdout into the door lock circuitry. He was greeted with a quiet whine and the stink of ozone. This door wasn't going to seal until it was fixed. Finally, he shot the alarm panel.

The wooooOOOOOOoooooOOOOOO of alarms and the blinking red light faded into nothingness. Silence. Phew. Alright. He progressed further into the shop, slapping little red stickers on a few key crates in unobtrusive places. Markers for something. The disguised Captain hadn't asked what the purpose was when he took this job, but it wasn't a hard thing to guess. Now all he needed to do was wait for a good time to slip out.

The pudgy Bothan's eyes widen as he sees the tiny Wroonian suddenly appear before him. "Oh, nooooo!" yells Smelly Belly himself, the Bothan apparently having been the namesake of the gang before they were hired on by the Captain. The cause of the gang's name is evident enough to Idony as the Bothan collides with her and his pudgy belly which sticks out from beneath his shirt is rubbing sweat all over her. He tangles for a moment before being shoved aside, not even noticing the subtle switch the Wroonian had performed with his bag. "Come on Thmelly Belly!" the Rodian squeaks out in the now silent night from where he peeks through the alleyway the rest of the gang had disappeared down. An angry glare is sent back at Idony before Smelly Belly waddles off as fast as he can, his pants slipping down and showing a bit of fuzzy crack as he runs and soon the gang is sprinting for all they're worth out into the darkness, soon to be lost if not followed.

Moe's droid didn't open fire, and it didn't seem like he was taking any more fire, so hopefully Moe's Ship Repairs was safe from the gang of thieves. "I should go check on my shop," Moe says to the BB unit before heading back towards his shop, making haste while the rolling ball droid follows along behind him beeping his concerns about being shot like the security droid was.

Relief. Relief sags Rheisa's clenched arms and she relaxes shakingly back into Maeve's urging self while she looks the Wroonian over. "Thank," she utters softly with a little bow of her chin. You are not hurt?" Gradually, she starts to rise, eyes closed. "What happen? Steal things? Or murderrrr."

"You're ok, just stay here," Mae says as she hastily has Jane stay on station as well and looks down at her shoes - seriously good shoes - then pats Tazi on the shoulder and takes off after the retreating gang. Whether or not she can run faster, in heels, than that pudgy Bothan is up for debate. But she takes off anyway, following the sound of retreating footsteps, "Should have bought a blaster," she mutters as she takes the stun baton from her side.

Blingo has another long peek, this time around the side of the container, to scan how events are unfolding, keeping his weapon pointing at the ground. He disapears again, squating carefuly. Once in cover, he tries to grab his cat, who lets Blingo scoop it and return it to the sidebag. "Shvvee," Blingo says. "You chose this place, master. There is no point in complaining to me," the droid answers. Blingo shakes the bag once, the cat and the droid emitting a short complaint.

"It was a smash an' grab, looks like. No murder," Idony assures Rheisa, the forearm of the shoulder that holds the bag rising up to wipe at the side of the face that was squished against the sweaty Smelly Belly. Black eyes follow Mae as she starts to follow the ones running down a side alley, but the feet make no move to follow. "I'll be fine... once I've spent an hour in tha refresher. If yer alright, I'll just be on ma way, then." The youth gives a nod and begins walking towards another alley.

Now was probably a good time to exfiltrate. With the Smelly Belly gang on the run and things starting to wind down, the disguised Captain took this time to slip out into the streets, cleverly heading in the opposite direction to the crazy lunatics that had just smashed and grabbed their way into Shug Nix's. Loonies. He had a few streets to weave through until he made it to where he wanted to go. The fun thing about the Gearhead district was that it was a terrible place, and even NSec rarely came down here.

Of course, they did when an anonymous tipoff of four aliens looking suspicious on a rooftop had been placed about twenty minutes prior. The Captain whistled to himself, most pleased, and presumably a whole lot richer.

As if on cue with the disappearance of the Smelly Belly gang, one of the blackouts that had been annoyingly plaguing the Gearhead District chose just that time to strike. All at once, all light in the immediate area is snuffed out as if a candle flame had simply been extinguished, plunging the industrial area that has been the victim of Nar Shaddaa's most recent theft into complete and utter darkness. There is only a moment before NSec officials come flying into the area driving a speeder with flashing blue lights. Uniformed officials begin to pile from the landed crafts and voices cut through the night as a light torch is flicked on and the illuminating beam shined around rapidly at those present, "Alright, alright! This is the scene of an investigation. Everyone clear out immediately!"

Across the way, Maeve has hardly had time to make the alley when the blackout strikes, and she can still see the swirling emergency lights of the NSec speeders from where she stands.

Yep, time to get back to the shop. Using the flashing red light on his security droid, Moergog gets to his shop's door and pushes his way inside, followed quickly by the rolling BB-droid. "We'll go get a generator tomorrow," he tells the droid. "Stay on patrol," he tells the LE-VO as he goes into the shop, to the safety of the YT-600 in his hangar, which served as his home.

Stay? No stay. Stay bad. Rheisa watches Maeve sprint off to make a citizen's arrest (or beatdown) and decides that this fellow sack-wielding person (Idony) has got the better plan. The sense of vertigo has lessened, though a tiny echo of the alarm still rings around between her 'ears'. She's fully on her feet and offers Idony a second nod. "Ghe vee tah," she offers in blessing and hugs her bag'o'rats to her. She turns to look at Jane and taps her lips with 1 finger. A curious peek around over the shoulder casts a quizzical look to the white, furry face peeping out from 'round the dumpster, but she's made up her mind.

The sudden onset of /dark/ confirms this choice to gtfo. She squints against any passing glares of the torch and 'clears out' like they say, in search of a hovercab.

The black out does not seem to phase Blingo much. The coming of militia on speeders does it for him: he calmly slings his rifles and stands up, to walk away nonchalantly, not even looking over his shoulder. At the first alley, he turns and is gone.

Rocking to a halt as soon as the blackout hits the area like a blanket, Mae holds very - very - still for a moment until her eyes adjust a little and with a sigh of annoyance she carefully backtracks to retrieve Jane. "Lost them, slippery bastards," she mutters and flicks on a handheld flashlight and checks over her shoes carefully, "Time to depart. Really. Before everyone still here gets blamed."

The wroonian is already melting down the alleyway, with the sudden dousing of the lights making it even easier to disappear. Not even a last glance is cast backwards towards the shug as the thief of thieves makes away with a bag of something that needs to be inspected, not wanting to be anywhere near Smelly Belly when he realizes he's carrying a sack of rubbish.

NSec officials mill about the area outside of Shug Nix's Spacebarn for a while, poking around and occasionally stooping to examine the odd footprint in the muck of the industrial goop that fills the dirty street. The blackout seems to persist longer than is the norm, and the only light that can be seen in the street is that of the flashing blue emergency lights on the NSec speeders and the occasional flash of image rendering technology to admit into evidence.

With all of the personnel milling about the area, few would notice the two NSec officials that slip inside of Shug's and turn on flashlights as they walk into the pitch black warehouse to examine the odd stickers upon a few separate crates. Looking upward, they note the hanging rope utilized by the Smelly Belly Gang, and casually reach out and grab the rope before pulling it across to the conveniently marked crates. They are secured one at a time, before being hauled upward toward the open skylight far above and then shoved into the open bay of a waiting airspeed landed on the roof, all running lights killed so as to render it almost invisible in the darkness. Once all crates are removed, the "NSec" guards reappear and call out, "Alright, we have all of the evidence we can get. Let's get out of here." Fifteen minutes later, the hum of power lines can be heard once more and the lights begin to blink back on, one after the other.