Gangsters

[Taataani Meorrrei]

A Dantooinian Kimchuk, when in danger, screams. It's not a demure sound. Not nearly as timid as the animal looks with it's floppy ears, big eyes, and petite barrel-shaped body. It's a full-throated elegy of terror. A sound that's easy to personify. The quickest way to kill a Kimchuk is to kill it's means to scream. Crush or sever the throat, and leave the animal's panic-drunk brain deprived of the oxygen to feed the noise or the will to create it.

There are, however, slower means.

The Kimchuk screamed it's voice raw, pinned against the polished ancient-growth heartwood table. It's plush bluish fur was dampening in visceral purple crisis as the animal's red blood wicked into the coat from a dozen puncture wounds. Feeble short paws pumped in futility against the slick table, and as the creature wrenched about, against the grasp of the hand that held it to the spot. Clawed fingers withdrew their grasp, trailing crimson drips as they rhythmically constricted again, delivering incremental agony. The Kimchuk's wails continued, competing to fill the room with sound against a theatre of holoprojected puppets and their voices.

...The Senate Finance committee has narrowly passed the Ethical Good Governance Act. By a vote of six thousand forty two to...

...the bill requires all sitting members of the Senate and Chancellor's cabinet with voting stake or de facto ownership of interstellar corporations to divest ownership...

...aimed at tackling concerns over corruption and influence peddling among the more affluent members of...

The hand atop the Kimchuk tightened, wrenching the creature's renewed scream into a strangled gurgle. Open seams of laceration formed as claws widened the openings into flesh. Blood spilled openly onto the luxuriant tabletop, splashed in flecks by the kicking of tiny feet.

...among the politicians with the most to lose in this populist legislation are Senator Niev Minetii of Sullust, Minister of Transportation Boahas Rondo, and junior Senator of the Cizerack Pride, Taataani Meorrrei...

crack

The protests of the dying Kimchuk ended with stark finality. The blood-slicked hand that held it slowly relaxed it's hold. Fingers trailed blood along the table until they came to rest next to a gilded ash tray, where a lit cigar awaited them.

"Frreeze trranssmjisssjionss."

The holograms halted in unison as Senator Taataani Meorrrei stoked the embers at the head of her cigar with a few measured puffs, holding the last mouthful of smoke at the roof of her mouth as a purple haze rose above to the high ceiling of her Bothawui office.

"Populjisst ssjimpletonss. Rrubess. Ssmall people wjith ssmall mjindss. Thejy thjink thejy can ssteal frrom me?"

The Baroness's jaw tightened as her ears pivoted back. She tensed a bloodied hand into a fist, dragging a red smear on the table.

"What rrjight do thejy have to take what'ss mjine? What jI've bujilt wjith mjy own handss?"

[Kallum Romanoch]

It was not until the wailing ceased that Kallum swapped his view of the moon-soaked gardens for the glistening drinks cabinet. Years of gory banquets had numbed him to the sight of a fresh animal carcass, but, in all that time, he'd never witnessed such a display of senseless cruelty. The sound of a baby crying was enough to make him want to throttle someone, so, it was a small miracle that he found himself reaching for a bottle of brandy instead of Taataani's bloody neck. He poured in silence, allowing the matron to stew in her own juices for a while.

"Are yeh surprised?" he finally asked. It was a rhetorical question. The bill hadn't appeared out of thin air, nor had it crawled its way through the doors of the Senate, either. Someone had been greasing the wheels. The large glass was planted onto the table without ceremony, rocking the auburn liquid within. "Dis is why we 'ave contingencies in place. Shall I summon deh board now?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"No."

The Baroness bit the reply a bit sharply, snatching the tumbler a moment after it was placed. The residual blood on Taataani's hands laced the contours of the crystal, refracting the light of the room into the brandy with a slightly sanguine effect.

"jI need to thjink on thjiss. jIt won't do to call them to orrderr wjithout a plan jin hand."

She drank deeply, leaving barely dregs remaining as she pushed the heavy-bottomed glass back to the table. Her ears eased forward slightly, though still betrayed her perturbed demeanor.

"Djivesst majorrjitjy ownerrsshjip jin corrporrate ssharress and sstep down frrom the boarrd. That'ss what the bjill sstatess."

The blood was beginning to dry on her hands. Taataani drew on her cigar once more, feeling the ichor tighten against her skin.

"Even wjith forrtjy-njine perrcent ownerrshjip, jI'd hold a dead man'ss sswjitch. jIf jit came to jit, jI could thrreaten to ssell jit all. Mjy ljife'ss worrk. Mjy motherr'ss ljife'ss worrk. Ssold to the Ssullusstanss orr the Mon Calamarrji at a sslaughterrhousse rrate to bleed the beasst drrjy."

She contemplated the dark option, her tail switching with ill mood.

"Thejy won't darre crrosss me. jIf all that rremajinss of Taataani Meorrrei jin herr boarrd rroom jiss herr sshadow, jit wjill be a long sshadow.

It was then that Taataani finally seemed to notice that she wasn't alone in the room, and that her brandy and rhetorical inputs hadn't simply appeared because they were convenient. She squared to Kallum, blue eyes narrowing.

"Oh don't be ssuch a man about thjiss! jIt'ss onljy blood, jit wjill wassh."

[Kallum Romanoch]

"Deh blood will," he said, an eyebrow climbed as he turned away.

She sounded wounded. Not in the feeble wilting way of a human woman, but like a cornered nexu, bearing its bloodied teeth before a final fight. It was true that the nexu would give its all - indeed, armed with sharp claws and rows of murderous teeth, it would likely emerge victorious - but the wounds sustained would, in due course, mark the end for the proud nexu. So Kallum was content for the matron to rant, and seethe, and drink, and smoke, and mutilate small animals for as long as it took until she was ready to make a sound decision. Fortunately, in that, he and his employer apparently saw eye-to-eye. Still, the cracks were showing.

"I'd 'ave more dan jus' a shadow in da' boardroom." He braced himself, "'Ave yeh considered yer daughters? Aleeha, fer example."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Another draw on the cigar brightened the ember ring from red to orange as Taataani let a dense cloud pass her slackened lips.

"Aleeha jiss a capable managerr. Sshe'ss competent at keepjing bookss balanced and sshe'ss lojyal."

The Senator's crimson-stained hand lowered the cigar to the ashtray, giving a sharp tap with her finger.

"But."

And this is where the Cizeri tradition of keeping business in the family could cause harm. It was still largely a zero sum game.

"Sshe doessn't ssharre mjy jimagjinatjion, and sshe lackss the..."

Taataani closed her eyes. She knew the word she was looking for. Why be so suddenly demure about seeing ruthlessness as a virtue?

"...jinsstjinct."

The Baroness eyed Kallum. Her majordomo. Her spider. He had ruthlessness, but that's why she'd taken him to be an extension of her will.

"Aleeha would keep the companjy sstable enough to sstajy afloat and trread waterr. Whjile that'ss not drrownjing, jit'ss alsso not makjing wavess. And not makjing wavess wjill kjill the enterrprrjisse jusst asss asssurredljy."

Waffling over this decision was as useful as straining to push a boulder up a hill. The only work that mattered was the kind that had results to show for it.

"jIf onljy T'yeellaa djidn't rrefusse herr desstjinjy. What a Rrou'fai sshe could have become."

Again, a useless affectation. She had to make a decision, not simply pine over a lack of one. Taataani clenched her hand into a fist, running her thumb over the digits to break loose the patina of dried blood.

"jI can sspeak to Aleeha. jI have no doubt sshe'll carrrjy out mjy wjisshess. But jI have a sspecjial tassk forr jyou, Kallum."

[Kallum Romanoch]

And there it was.

Kallum had returned to the drinks cabinet. He reached for his favourite bourbon and poured himself a glass. First, he took a sip and allowed it to sit on his tongue a moment, before swallowing. It tasted like smoked wood chip, dried fruit, and spice. In the mirrored glass, he spotted Taataani, sucking on a cigar. Even from here, he could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. She was a dangerous, his old girl. Sometimes he found himself wondering just how big or small a cog was he, Kallum Romanoch, in her grand machinations. He felt like he mattered, but he also knew well enough that that was exactly how Taataani Meorrrei wanted him to feel. And that made him like her even more.

"Special?" He repeated, and turned, tossing her a knowing look, "Colour me surprised."

A flicker of a smile, then. He returned to the table, and disguised a grimace as he took a seat before the dead kimchuk. Another sip of bourbon.

"Deh suspense is killin' me, mam."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The Rrou'fai spent a moment in silence, pivoting the ashen end of her cigar against the rim of the ash tray. Her fingers rolled it, degree by degree along the rim, flaking away the grey.

"jIt'ss tjime that jI brrjing Rai'faani jinto the companjy."

Taataani's eyes rose to meet Kallum's.

"jI want jyou to grroom herr to the tassk."

[Kallum Romanoch]

If the old girl was paying attention, she would have noticed the lines of tension surface on Kallum's face: a clench of the jaw, a tightening of the cheeks, lips pressed thin, all to clamp down on the words, and the mouthful of bourbon, that threatened to come pouring out. Once he was confident he wasn't going to start choking, he swallowed.

"Rai'fanni," he repeated. Even the word felt cumbersome and unwieldy, tripping over his tongue. "Yeh wanna bring Rai'fanni into deh company?"

His gaze crept sideways, as if by repeating her own words, he could draw her attention to their inherent madness. The glass hit the table after another gulp.

"Would da' be dead, or alive?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The Rrou'fai wasn't blind to Kallum's unsubtle signs of protest. She also wasn't wilting from her decision, mashing the glowing edge of her cigar like a gavel into the ash tray, the red glow crunching out with a few sputtering embers.

"jYou thjink jI don't know mjy own daughterr?"

He wouldn't dare go that far, and Taataani knew exactly what he meant. Nevertheless, she didn't lose much edge in her expression.

"All herr fajiljingss and faultss, of courrsse thejy'rre eassjy to ssee. Herr vanjitjy, vjice, and lack of djisscjipljine. jI ssee jit all."

Taataani began to wring her hands, dislodging the crusted layer of blood on her fingers in dark red flakes.

"Therre'ss morre to herr than that, cub. Farr morre that sshe'ss ssjimpljy hjidden awajy becausse jit'ss been eassjy to ljive ssoft and pamperred underr mjy prrotectjion. That endss todajy."

The baroness reached a blood-sullied hand to rest against Kallum's cheek.

"jI would thjink jyou of all people would rrecognjize the brrjilljiance of that prrocesss. Look wherre jyou werre. Now look at jyou."

[Kallum Romanoch]

The compliment was played off with an amused hmph.

"Our circumstances are a bi' different. After all, I 'ad nottin' when I me' you, an' I wanted every'n'. Dere was nottin' I wouldn't do teh ge' a taste o' deh good life." His point was emphasised with a raised glass, "Rai'faani 'as da' already."

Sometimes, it was difficult to recall the person he used to be, all those years ago; slumming it on Nar Shaddaa, then Taatooine, then Corellia. His life had been an unsavoury tapestry of drugs, whores, and petty crime. He recalled how he used to think he was somehow important, when he was running errands for the errand boys of second-rate crime lords. Now look at him, indeed. Deep down, he was really the same person, if a little wiser. All the skills he'd acquired in his service of the matron could be attributed to one simple instinct: survival. It wasn't ambition: the good life came easy to all within the extensive retinue of Taataani Meorrrei. It was the fear of losing it all that got him out of bed every day, that dressed him up like a silver-spooned yuppie, and had him talking with that ridiculous accent. It made him wonder:

"Do yeh intend teh take it all away? 'ow do we tame a wild Meorrrei?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The Senator listened to her hireling set the contrast between himself and Rai'faani. He had the differences exact.

"jYou developed talent becausse jyou werre hungrrjy. A rressponsse to sstjimulji. Wherreass Rai'faani, herrss jiss a naturral talent that'ss neverr been prresssed. Sshe'ss both brrjilljiant and jimbued wjith jinsstjinct. All that's held herr back hass been the apprroprrjiate sstjimulji."

Kallum yet again had Taataani's intentions exact. The faintest smile appeared and was gone on her face.

"Sshe'ss neverr felt herr place jin the ssun wass thrreatened. jI don't have to conjurr theatrre to prressent that casse, the thrreat jiss rreal. To that end, jI wjill pussh herr. Darrken the sskjy and ssmotherr the ljight, and darre herr to brreach the sskjy; to become what sshe ought to be. Cleverr and rruthlesss and everrjy bjit mjy namessake."

Taataani's right hand had clenched into a fist tight enough to deepen the cracks in the maroon blood along the knuckles.

"jI want jyou to teach herr about hungerr. Gjive herr purrposse. The tjime jiss ssoon comjing wherre mjy hand jin all of thjiss musst be jinvjissjible. jYou underrsstand."

[Kallum Romanoch]

Kallum responded with a solemn nod. If he could choose, on Taataani's behalf, between the life of an entrepreneur and that of a politician, he'd cast the politics aside without so much as a thought. She was drinking from a poisoned well, but power was power, and he knew in his heart that he could not expect her to make a choice. Not when she could have both. Anything else would be less than who she was. The storm clouds were rolling in, and they would face them together.

"When yeh cut 'er off," Just saying it made him smirk with amusement, "Oh, she will 'ave a special kinda 'atred fer you. I can use da'. Compell 'er teh prove she doesn' need mummy's pocke' money."

He paused to take another sip of bourbon, and to read Taataani's expression. They were rarely not on the same wavelength anymore. It made him wonder if there had always been a little Taataani Meorrrei in him all along, or had she merely infected him over the years? Either way, he felt up to the task. Up to any task. In the past, he wore bravado like a mask, now it was his résumé. Still, he had one lingering doubt about the matron's plan.

"Once Rai'faani realises what's 'appened, it's no' a stretch teh imagine da' she will turn 'er frustrations on me. She will work i' out." But that was his concern. "Is she still loiterin' round Jovan Station?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

She'll have a special hatred for you.

There was a lot of wisdom in that insight. It seemed for every pound of love given in the family, three ounces of hatred were added to the scales. It was never simple. Taataani wasn't the sort of nostalgic simpleton to consider that virtues were somehow more innocent and pure when she was Rai'faaani's age. Taataani had grown up idolizing and adoring her mother, but that affection was quickly tempered by restlessness and resentment. The fire in her belly nurtured from a young age had turned into obsessive impatience. When was the next milestone coming? What prestigious undertaking would she be given to set herself apart from her sisters? It was easy to see in her own mother's reluctance a weakness. Soon, Taataani began to see herself as her mother's equal. That equality probably didn't survive a sunset before she considered that she'd surpassed the Rrou'fai of House Meorrrei, and was ready to take what belonged to her.

Taataani cleaned her hands in earnest, opting for the most expedient method via a sachet containing a moist towelette, drawn from a nearby drawer. She fastidiously scrubbed clean before tossing aside the soiled napkin. A quick detour to her desk and she returned to Kallum with a datapad full of images. They were of Rai'faani on Jovan station, and some were very recent.

"Not everrjy motherr keepss a prrjivate detectjive on rretajinerr to watch overr herr chjildrren. Jusst thosse wjith enough monejy and an averrssjion to rreputatjional rrjissk."

Most of the images were at a discrete distance, showing the lithe-featured heiress browsing through the markets, going out to eat, or attending a discotheque - usually with an entourage. Two or three other women, and a half dozen men.

"jI gjive Rai'faani an allowance of thjirrtjy thoussand du'arri a week, and jI asssurre jyou sshe sspendss everrjy lasst one of them. Huntjing trrjipss, fasst sspeederrss, prrettjy clothess forr thesse chjisseled-up sslutss sshe takess a passsjing jinterresst jin. Occassjionalljy sshe ussess the monejy to jinvesst jin ssomethjing, but sshe lossess jinterresst the moment sshe fjindss a parrtjy bjig enough to pjisss jit awajy. Sshe knowss sshe'ss ssmarrt enough, but sshe'ss arrrogant to the pojint of thjinkjing sshe can ssummon ssuccesss bjy sstampjing a foot."

The Senator's attention flitted momentarily to the Kimchuk's mangled body that still sullied the table at the center of the room.

"Sshe majy hate me forr jit, but daughterrss often nurrturre ssmall hatrredss to learrn harrd lesssonss. One of the fjirrsst lesssonss a motherr teachess herr daughterr jiss how to kjill."

She considered her audience, giving Kallum a somewhat deferential nod.

"jI ssupposse that jissn't the casse forr humanss, though a few do sseem to fjind the knack forr that ssorrt of thjing."

[Kallum Romanoch]

"Deh closest thing I 'ad to a mother was a Black Sun Vigo," Kallum gave a shrug, "Yer mileage may vary."

Of course, that wasn't entirely true. Kallum had a family, once, but he'd been abandoned so young he could scarcely remember who they were - not that he cared much for nostalgia. Growing up surrounded by the Black Sun's roughest and toughest, he'd been oblivious to the danger all around, but then, that was Sorsha's doing - under her protection, had he ever been in any real danger, at all? So, he couldn't relate to Taataani's tale of tough love, in quite the same way. Although he had heard of a guy called Rench, from Tattooine, whose father had once made him drown a litter of kusak pups, because their mother had died. As Kallum understood it, he developed a morbid fear of water, and became known as Rench the Stench, the smelliest hired muscle on the planet. He hovered over his bourbon long enough to consider relating the anecdote to the matron, but the idea was dismissed with a grin.

"Dese err... little groupies she collects," he resumed, flicking idly through the extensive library of candid images, "I don' reckon dey will 'ang around fer long, once deh well 'as run dry. Yer little kitten is gonna need a shoulder teh cry on. Yeh know, once deh all-consumin' blood lust 'as died down."

With that minor amendment made, Kallum cleared his throat and took a long drink.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

What an interesting little comment.

Taataani diverted her anger, giving herself license to scheme. A sidelong glance at her majordomo elicited a raised eyebrow. Then a slow smile.

"Sseductjion bejing the ssauce forr the goosse of a compelljing arrgument? Whjy Kallum, jI had almosst forrgotten to notjice how handssome jyou arre."

The Baroness glanced to the adjacent window.

"jIt musst be the afterrnoon ssun."

She faced him fully, gently taking the drink from his hands to set aside on the mini bar. With his hands empty, she filled them with her own, tracing the creases of his palms with curious thumbs.

"jI musst be a Devjil, ssendjing a man ssuch asss jyou to enssnarre mjy own flessh and blood."

Taataani wet her lips, looking up at her creature.

"But who elsse could do what jI assk?"

[Kallum Romanoch]

"I must confess," Kallum began, turning his wholesome gaze to the ceiling, "Der is a part o' me da' balks a' deh thought o' such sleazy, morally-dubious tactics. Der are times when i' feels like der aren't enough sonic showers in deh galaxy to scrub clean deh dirt..."

He sighed, then, and met Taataani's gaze. The theatre continued, as his fingers closed around hew own, reciprocating the hold.

"I will do wha' I must. Fer you."

In truth, it hadn't occurred to him to take advantage of Taataani's daughter, while she was down on her luck. At least, not in that way. Years of service had made him ballsy, and wholly aware of what he could and couldn't get away with in the matron's presence. Seducing her daughter, though? Sure, he'd be all over Rai'faani like a rash, but it's not something he'd have ever thought of presenting before his boss - it was the crusty wank sock of bad ideas. Leave it to Taataani to surprise him with one of her own. The last dregs of the pantomime played out, and his demure objections warped into a grin.

"When yer man on Jovan starts takin' snaps o' me, make sure 'e captures me best side."