#1313 hunter

[1313-hunter]

GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC

CORUSCANT GUARD – INTELLIGENCE DIVISION

CONFIDENTIAL DOSSIER

[CLASSIFIED - FOR AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY]

NAME: Solus, Ge’tal (Alias: “Red”)

ID NUMBER: 4815162342

LAST SEEN: [REDACTED]

OCCUPATION: Independent Contractor (Bounty Hunter, Mercenary)

AFFILIATION: GAR Intelligence (Temporary Contract)

KNOWN ASSOCIATES: [REDACTED]

THREAT LEVEL: HIGH ⚠️

KEEP READING FOR FURTHER REPORT

(Meiker by @elequinoa, access here.)

PROFILE SUMMARY

• Exiled Mandalorian anarchist.

• Freelance bounty hunter with ties to Republic operations.

• Maintains loose affiliation with Separatist-sympathetic elements, but has worked alongside GAR personnel.

• Unpredictable. Handles jobs efficiently but disregards chain of command.

• Suspected of prior anti-GAR and anti-Republic activity. Under surveillance.

COMMANDER’S NOTES

Marshal Commander Fox - Coruscant Guard:

“Insubordinate, unpredictable, and an active disruption. She will follow the job parameters - mostly - but only on her terms. Too much history with underworld syndicates and insurgent groups to be fully reliable. Would not recommend extended contracts unless absolutely necessary. Keep under watch at all times.”

Captain Rex - 501st Legion:

“Competent, resourceful, but stubborn. Won’t take orders, only ‘suggestions.’ She’s an asset in high-risk missions but a liability in structured operations. Works best when given a target and left alone to do the job. Approach with caution.”

SPECIAL CONSIDERATIONS

⚠️ DO NOT LEAVE UNATTENDED.

⚠️ DO NOT PROVIDE UNRESTRICTED ACCESS TO GAR DATABASES OR ASSETS.

⚠️ HIGHLY ADAPTIVE – UNLIKELY TO STAY LOYAL TO ANY FACTION FOR LONG.

⚠️ NEEDS TECH REPAIRS – PREFERS TO HANDLE OWN MODIFICATIONS.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE

• High levels of independent thinking and defiance towards authority.

• Tendency towards extreme insubordination.

• Highly intelligent; capable of deception and manipulation.

• Displays strong (if inconsistent) personal loyalty to certain individuals (notably, specific clones).

ASSESSMENT:

Valuable as a contracted asset, but dangerous if unchecked. Highly skilled in close-quarters combat, reconnaissance, and target acquisition. Tendency to disappear from surveillance without notice. Approach with professional detachment. Do not engage casually.

CURRENT STATUS:

📍 ACTIVE - LOCATION UNKNOWN

📂 MISSION LOG: ACCESS RESTRICTED, NEEDS AUTHORISATION FROM CAPTAIN REX AND/OR MARSHAL COMMANDER FOX

THIS DOCUMENT IS CLASSIFIED UNDER GAR INTELLIGENCE PROTOCOLS. UNAUTHORISED ACCESS OR DISTRIBUTION IS PUNISHABLE UNDER REPUBLIC CODE 47-B.

END REPORT

[1313-hunter]

Tales from the Underworld [Episode 1: Krobb of 1315]

Hello, Holonet. Welcome to the first episode of Tales from the Underworld!! Because I’m clearly in between jobs, and have nothing better to do than document the ongoing collapse of civilisation, one loser at a time.

Today’s feature: Krobb.

That’s him, right there, taking a nap outside 867 Alley. And by “nap,” I mean he’s either dead, unconscious, or wishing for death after getting too deep into whatever pisswater disguised as moonshine they sell at the nearby cantina.

Krobb is a classic underworld denizen! Bro has no fixed address, no fixed job, but somehow ALWAYS around. And ALWAYS has time to spare! Bro got opinions on everything, and never once been right. Used to run with the Rancor (subdivision of Raptors) before they collapsed (shocking, considering their motto was “steal shit and hope for the best”). Now he’s freelancing, which in underworld terms means always taking bad deals without any gangs or syndicates to back you up.

But see, Krobb is a product of a galactic economy that runs on exploitation and treats the underworld like a trash compactor for people it doesn’t want to deal with. A system that was designed to fail people like him. No jobs? No resources? No social mobility? Congratulations, you’re Krobb now.

…Okay, yeah, he’s also an OSIK, but two things can be true at the same time. Anyway, if you see him, toss him a few credits or a cigarra or a deathstick, but do NOT engage in conversation for more than five minutes. He will ask you for a loan or some money. And I will laugh when you regret it.

Until next time, Holonet.

TUNE IN FOR MORE TALES FROM THE UNDERWORLD.

[1313-hunter]

Dear Miss Solus,

I am intrigued in your tale about Marshal Commander Fox "drifting" in the underworld. Although I will ask the gentleman himself later tonight – as a good (former) detective, I'm inclined to perceive the story from both sides. Please – if you would indulge me?

Sincerely,

L. Thrace | @corrie-crime-solver

Do you speak like this everyday irl? I dig i dig. Please call me Red/Tal. Fox calls me Ge’tal, Rex said he does that to have that sense of older brother authority which is insane cause I’m literally older than him ANYWAAAY. You know Car Affa yeah? Dude smuggled lots of Republic weapons in the Underworld (nice hustle if you ask me), and I was under your bf’s supervision for 3 months (that was before you both started dating which is still insane to me because why blink twice if you need help) and he made me track Affa down, locate the auction thingy and all, AND instead of sending shock troopers to back me up he went down himself (because 1. Bored, and 2. He was avoiding senatorial duty ig). AND OFC MY COVER GOT BLOWN UP BECAUSE MY CONTACT DOUBLE CROSSED ME. And Fox was there yeah and these lot were chasing us and we got on top of a building and I was like fam I’ve always wanted to do grand theft auto and grapple hooked my way down there. Nice speeder, it was purple, sports speeder type. FAST. And i got into the driver’s seat yeah and bro fuckin pushed me to the passenger’s seat and started DRIFTING and I was like OI WTF ARE YOU DOING and he just kept doing that. We ended up falling from a fuckin speeder turbolift to 1315 or so idk can’t remember and bro stopped at a noodle bar because he was hungry AS IF HE DID NOTHING

[1313-hunter]

Who the Fuck Asks for a Bio?

Listen, you found this page, so I guess you’re nosy enough to want the details. Fine. Name’s Ge’tal Solus - Red if ya nasty. Bounty hunter, exiled Mando, and general pain in the ass to anyone with authority. I don’t work for free, and I don’t work for fascists.

I’m a 1312 & 1313 local. If you don’t know your way around, you better have someone watching your back, because down here, there’s no safety net. The Underworld cops don’t give a shit about us unless they’re looking for someone to beat on, and the only law that matters is the one you enforce yourself. You’ll usually find me at some shitty bar, a fight ring, or wherever the latest contract takes me. If you want something, get to the point. I don’t do small talk, and I don’t give a fuck about pleasantries. If you waste my time, I’ll waste yours. Figure out which side of that you wanna be on.

(Jk I’m not that serious)

My assistant at the Guild been writing my adventures here, although, I recommend you reading this highlight of my career. Because, yes, bitch, I survived the Southern Underground.

I run a little segment called Tales from the Underworld! It’s essentially a collection of stories that I gathered from around the underbelly of Coruscant. If you want to read it, go ahead and track them under the tag: tales from the underworld.

My ask box is always open. Go ahead and pick a fight (or buy me drinks or give me a bounty to hunt) there.

Behind the scene after writing this bio:

Rex: Baby, you sound so punchable. Tal: No, I sound cool Rex: Really? Tal: Yep. I sound like I could walk into a room and everyone would know I don’t take shit from nobody. Rex: You sound like you’re about to challenge the whole bar to a fight Tal: also the kinda vibe I was going for. Rex: And what happens when some osik actually takes you up on it? Tal: Then I kick their ass and look even cooler. Rex: …Yeah, real cool. Until you break your wrist again. Tal: That was one time Rex: That was last month Rex: “I don’t do small talk, and I don’t give a fuck about pleasantries.” You literally small-talked a bounty into giving up last week Tal: That’s different! That was strategy! Bro was a Zeltron! Rex: You flirted Tal: Whatever

[1313-hunter]

Tales from the Underworld [Episode 3: Ottaz]

HELLO HOLONET. WELCOME BACK TO TALES FROM THE UNDERWORLD.

Tonight’s feature: Ottaz.

This is one of TFTU Specials from Level 5! Why Level 5? Cause I’m literally down here. On a job. With my trustee BD droid. He scomped something and we finally got some services - so here’s an update!

Keep reading to find out more about Ottaz!

(and read my story from Level 5 here)

I met Ottaz on Level 5. That should tell you everything. People like Ottaz didn’t pick this life. They were put here. Sold, dumped, abandoned - whatever story he has, it ain’t a happy one.

When I got to Level 5, I didn’t know where the fuck I was going. It was VERY dark, almost pitch black, and the streets all looked the same. No signs. No lights. No people. Just the sound of leaking pipes and things skittering in the dark. Then, out of nowhere…

“You lost?”

That’s Ottaz. He didn’t look dangerous (but definitely didn’t look safe either). He was very thin. Twitchy. Like someone always waiting for the next bad thing to happen. But he knew where I needed to go since yk there is only one known cantina in Level 5, and at some point Blud and I almost gave up. So I followed him.

We walked through tunnels so dark I couldn’t see my own feet. Passed sealed areas marked with one of those yellow (bio)hazard symbols so old the paint had mostly peeled off, but the meaning was clear: Do not enter. Do not open.

Maybe do not even fucking ask what’s inside.

Open vents lined the walls, yawning black mouths leading to maker-knows-where. The kind of holes you drop or throw something into and never hear it land.

And through it all… the distant wailing. The deeper we went, the worse it got. Sentients? Maybe. Or maybe not. Or maybe used to be sentients but long mutated into those monsters in holobooks.

But Ottaz didn’t fucking flinch! He kept on walking, he didn’t stop to look, or whatever normies would do in such situations, nope. Just kept moving, like the sound didn’t mean anything, or like it was just another day in Level 5. So I didn’t stop either (and didn’t look, didn’t ask).

When we finally reached the cantina, and I turned to thank him. He was already walking away!

Y’know I spent a few minutes inside that hellhole. Shot some people, yadda yadda. Got my info about the object of interest. And left the cantina. And guess what? He was right back in his spot. Same alley. Same makeshift chair. Passed out.

Ottaz doesn’t work for anyone. Not anymore. Doesn’t leave. Doesn’t try to leave. Doesn’t ask for anything. He just sits there. On some kinda spice? Maybe. Drunk? Maybe. Or maybe he just got too tired of being awake. I don’t know what or who Ottaz was before. I don’t know if he even remembers. But I do know one thing, he is never leaving Level 5. Just like the others down here.

Lesson learnt: Some people go missing on Coruscant. Some people go missing on purpose. And people like Ottaz are somewhere in between.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR MORE TALES FROM THE UNDERWORLD.

(Assuming I don’t end up like him.)

[1313-hunter]

TAL’S GUIDE TO 1313

Welcome to Level 1313. You might get stabbed. Here’s how not to!

Congratulations, you’ve made it to the most cursed place in the galaxy. We make Mos Eisley feels like a resort on Scarif! Whether you got lost, chased, or just got a bad result from a fucked up truth or dare game - doesn’t matter. You’re here now! And you better learn how to survive.

Lucky for you, I’ve compiled THE 1313 SURVIVAL KIT. Read this, commit it to memory, and try not to get yourself killed.

RULE #1: DON’T LOOK LOST.

1313 eats lost people for breakfast. You look around like a tourist? Someone will notice. Best way to blend in is to ALWAYS walk like you know where you’re going, even if you don’t.

Pro tip: If you do get lost, don’t ask anyone in a clean outfit. That’s either a con artist, an underworld cop, or a trafficker. Instead, ask someone who looks tired but not overly excited. That’s a local. They might charge you, but hey we all need money down here.

RULE #2: CREDITS FIRST, QUESTIONS NEVER.

On that note, want to buy something? Want directions? Pay first. We don’t do free information, and we sure as hell don’t do refunds!

Pro tip: If a deal seems too good to be true, it is. If someone’s too friendly, they want something. If someone says “Trust me,” you should absolutely not.

RULE #3: EAT SMART.

Not everything down here will kill you, but enough of it will. The safest bets:

☠ Bug’s Fry-Up Joint (Krezzi Quarter)

> Get the fried rice & nerf meatball soup.

> Don’t ask why it’s so cheap. It’s good, it’s hot, and it’s not laced.

> If Bug likes you, he might give you extra. If he doesn’t, he’ll serve you anyway because credits are credits.

☠ The Wharf (Market & Food Court, Dockside 1313)

> Street food heaven. You want skewers? Soup? Weird shit you can’t pronounce? It’s all here.

> Be careful around the water (there are baby dianogas in it. They’re cute now. They won’t be later).

> Vendors will try to hustle you. Haggle like your life depends on it especially if you look clean and rich.

☠ Desi’s Noodles (Near the Warehouse District 7)

> Best noodles on 1313. Hands down. I mean it’s a popular chain in the Underworld!

> No menus. You get what you get. Desi doesn’t do substitutions.

> If you’re in a hurry, don’t bother. The one in 1313 serves when they feel like it! Operational hour: whenever they like.

RULE #4: KNOW WHO RUNS WHAT.

1313 is not completely lawless. It just has different laws. These are the people who actually run things:

> The Pykes: Spice trade. If you’re buying, you’re funding them. If you’re selling, you better cut them in or disappear.

> Crimson Dawn: Other syndicates have issues with them, but if you work for them (or at least have a good rep) you could enjoy nice facilities in their district.

> Blood Nebula: The closest thing 1313 has to a local government. Horrible at it.

> The Raptors: Not what they used to be, but still looking for dumbasses to recruit. Mostly street kids, lots of pickpockets and petty thieves.

> Hutt Cartel: You’re still asking who they are? Are you even from this galaxy?

Pro tip: If you don’t know who controls a place, assume someone does. Look for signets and symbols. Act accordingly.

RULE #5: NEVER TRUST THE COPS.

The Coruscant Guard doesn’t come down here unless they have to. The local security forces are all bought. If a cop helps you, it’s because:

1. They’re setting you up.

2. They want lunch money.

3. They’re bored.

RULE #6: WHERE TO GO (AND WHERE TO AVOID).

✔ SAFE-ISH PLACES:

(“Safe” meaning you might not get stabbed today)

> Moshi Bar: Moshi Bar. Tiggs Leo, the Volpai bartender who run the place, is an info broker who operated on a strict need-to-know basis. He doesn’t tolerate violence in his space, and he made sure the regulars knew it.

> The Wharf: Safest for non-local, see point above.

> Sleeeeeemo Pit: Fight club. Enter at your own risk.

> Krezzi Quarter: Markets, cheap food, good for blending in.

✖ AVOID AT ALL COSTS:

> The Old Turbolifts: Half of them don’t work. The other half are death traps.

> Side entrance to Level 1312: This is where cleaners dispose bodies. If someone tells you to meet them there, they’re planning to kill you.

> Pipelines 31: Used to be a transport line. Now it’s home to corridor ghouls.

RULE #7: IF YOU FUCK UP, OWN IT.

No one respects cowards and liars. If you owe money, pay it. If you start a fight, finish it. The underworld runs on reputation, and yours is the only currency that matters (well, credits too, but you get the point).

If you can’t handle that, you don’t belong here.

FINAL NOTE: 1313 doesn’t care about you. The best you can do is learn the rules, play smart, and stay ahead.

Good luck. You’ll need it.

—TAL.

[1313-hunter]

Tales from the Underworld

[Episode 5: The Crystal Jewel, Southern Underground]

NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH TALES OF THE UNDERWORLD. I WAS HERE FIRST!

HELLO HOLONET. WELCOME BACK TO TALES FROM THE UNDERWORLD.

Now broadcasting live from somewhere I absolutely do not want to be. Guess where I am?

I SAID GUESS.

Okay nobody got it right. Losers. All of ya. I’m currently holed up in the Southern Underground. Why? Because I need ammo. Specifically, one kriffing silver bullet for my slugthrower. Yep, that one, the one you possibly heard from horror tales to kill werewolves. Guess what? These babies are good enough to kill corridor ghouls (which had been roaming around my neighbourhood. Thus, my lot and I been hunting em down one by one.)

ALSO, the only place that sells it doesn’t do catalogs, doesn’t do shipping, doesn’t even have a kriffing name on the door. You gotta know someone, then know a guy that that guy owes a favour to, then show up with rhythmic knocks or whatever.

But first stop? The bar. No, no. Not just another bar. THE CRYSTAL JEWEL. The infamous bar with the edgy tagline definitely written by some teen edgelord long before the clones were decanted, “If the customers don’t kill you, the drinks will.”

Fokkin edgy mate. Before we continue, remember this: Always keep one hand on your credits and the other on your blaster. I learnt the hard way when I first came to this part of the underworld. Unless, of course, you were one of those lucky species with more than two hands - then you could punch and shoot at the same time.

Anyway, enough pleasantries. KEEP READING FOR MY VERY OWN SURVIVAL KIT!

WELCOME TO THE CRYSTAL JEWEL.

The bar sits in the heart of the Southern Underground. And no, this isn’t like Level 1313, which still has rules (and people Underworld Cops pretending to enforce them). This is the other side of the underworld. Quite literally. Cause the other hemisphere, you know?

No one gives a shit who you are. Or what you’re carrying. Smugglers. Bounty hunters. Mercs. Freelancers who’ve lost their crews. Burnouts. This place is where the galaxy’s trash comes to ferment.

Pro tip: Don’t look like easy prey.

Holster a blaster. Even if it’s fake. And if you’re not willing to fight? Pretend you are. One thing to keep in mind before entering the facility:

THE INVITE-ONLY LIE

Here’s the thing: The Crystal Jewel’s “invite only.”

What that really means is “we’ll act like you need a name, but if you show up with a gun and enough proven connection, we’ll let you in.” But if don’t have those? You’ll break in the fun way. Like me.

So, here’s how you break in to The Crystal Jewel:

STEP 1: FIND THE RIGHT ALLEY.

There’s a narrow alley tucked between a defunct data kiosk and a churro stand that definitely doesn’t use fabric colouring for the dips. Look for the brick wall with graffiti that says “DOWN WITH THE REPUBLIC” in four different languages.

STEP 2: CLIMB THE STAIRS.

There are two sets of stairs. One is kind of clean and leading towards the market, the other one is the sketchy one - go through this one. You’ll know it from the uneven stairs, barely lit, plastered with old posters of underground fights, Twi’lek burlesque shows, live sex shows (yep), missing persons. (Spoiler: not coming back.)

STEP 3: FIND THE GARAGE DOOR.

Top of the stairs, take the right corner past the crate stack and a broken speederbike that seems to take a residency in that spot. You’ll see a busted garage door. There’s a small gap beside it, just enough to squeeze through.

STEP 4: OVERRIDE THAT SHIT.

Duck through the gap and find a burnt umbre metal door. It’s locked. Of course. Again, do not come unprepared. I always carry my data/security spike. Not that expensive. It’s 1,500 credits worth of beautiful tech. Pop it into the door’s side knob. Work your magic.

STEP 5: GET IN!

Once you got it opened, get in! Make sure to close the door and remember your steps. Do not act suspicious.

What to do here? You’re probably wondering.

When you’re in a club like this, always look for the bar. That’s where you find intel. Unless you’re invited to sit on the couch. In spots like this, the bartenders are the unofficial gatekeepers. They see it all! Every dirty deal, every backroom bargain, and they knew better than to ask questions. Like the lady in the picture, she KNOWS EVERYTHING. They’re all knowing gods. Love and TIP YOUR BARTENDER. And if you play your cards right, you might just end up on the couch.

What does it mean to be invited on the couch? Listen. Black Sun owns most of the area here. So if you’re invited, there are two possibilities:

ONE: THEY WANT TO HIRE YOU.

They know your rep. They’ve seen what you’ve done. You made noise, and they’re curious. Maybe they want to cut a deal. Maybe they want you to run something. If this is you, sit down. Listen. Don’t talk unless spoken to.

And definitely don’t ask for a drink unless they offer.

TWO: YOU FUCKED UP.

Which is highly unlikely. Because if you really fucked up you’d never make it through this part of the Underworld. You’d get a body bag the moment your janky ship landed and docked.

BEFORE WE END THIS TRANSMISSION. One more thing!

TAL’S SURVIVAL TIP FOR THE SOUTHERN UNDERGROUND:

Don’t come here unless you know what you’re looking for.

Because if you don’t this place will hand you a drink, a blatant lie you wouldn’t even be able to decipher, and a blaster to the brain, and you won’t know which will end you first.

Anyway. I’m only here for the ammo. And maybe one of those fried fungus skewers if the vendor near the stairwell isn’t dead today.

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR MORE TALES FROM THE UNDERWORLD. REMEMBER, NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH TALES OF THE UNDERWORLD!

[1313-hunter]

Tales from the Underworld [Episode 4: S.T.R.A.V.A]

HELLO HOLONET. WELCOME BACK TO TALES FROM THE UNDERWORLD.

(except I don’t wanna be here. I REALLY don’t wanna be here.)

Signal’s shit. Don’t know how long I have! BL-4D managed to hack into some old medbay system, which means I’m sitting next to what used to be a bacta tank and definitely still has something floating in it. No time for details. Just—

DO NOT COME TO LEVEL 5. DO NOT—

krssktt—

S.T.R.A.V.A.

Suppressed Territory for Reprocessing of Aberrant Variants.

That’s what the logs call it. Facility’s long dead. Shut down. Ruined. BUT IT’S NOT EMPTY.

They were doing things down here. Experiments. There are signs. Claw marks on the walls. Restraints snapped. Something about neurological reprogramming??? I don’t know, it’s all rotted files and something is moving outside.

AGAIN. CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEFS LEVEL 5 IS NOT ABANDONED.

The Cthons are here. They’ve been watching since I got here. Killed some of them along the way. I tried backtracking but there was something in the vent I came through. Not sure it was a person. Not sure if it was sentient.

THERE ARE STILL PEOPLE DOWN HERE. You can find them at the cantina (there’s only one cantina down here). Some in a slum area on the way to S.T.R.A.V.A - they don’t like topsiders (yes, us 1313 and 1312 dwellers included).

IF THIS UPLOAD REACHES YOU— mrkskkssksst

I don’t know if I’m getting out. Maybe I’ll make it to the maintenance lift. Maybe I won’t.

Maybe the Cthons will… Wait. The creaking sound and footsteps outside stopped.

I think they’re listening.

TUNE IN NEVER. I’M NEVER COMING BACK.