The taxi droid brought the craft to a halt at the requested stop, repulsorlifts humming loudly enough to be heard over the rest of the Undercity but gently enough as to not be overbearing. The taxi droid turned and requested payment, speaking quickly as if trying to hurry back to the relative safety of the surface. "Oh, me?" started Celtar as he stepped out of the taxi and onto the duracrete that made up everything around them. "I don't have any money. Bill it to the Supreme Chancellor. Republic business, you understand." And with that, Celtar turned and was gone, cane falling into step with him and helping him support his weight even as his dingy, worn robes swished behind him.
The walk to the landing pad wasn't far, mostly due to the fact that Celtar had ordered the taxi driver to exit the designated travel lanes and bring them as close as possible. They were close enough to make the walk easy but far enough that the taxi wouldn't be able to be seen by the prey that Celtar had scouted earlier. Nobody here was innocent, no being spared by the effects of the war, of starvation, and of poverty. Those down here were the truly forgotten of the Republic and, more importantly, Coruscant. While billions of credits were being spent to give people like Celtar a job, next to nothing was being funneled down into social programs designed to aid those stuck in the Undercity. While plenty of resources were available to the beings on the 'surface' city, very little made its way down here. Everyone down in the Undercity, at least in Sector J-27, had to fight for every meal. Criminal enterprises ran the streets and it was extremely easy to disappear in the Undercity, though it was far from the safest place one could choose to disappear. You were just as likely to disappear as you were to be disappeared as a result of a robbery, drug deal, or kidnapping gone wrong.
As a result, few beings actively walked the streets. The artificial lights kept the same amount of ambient light regardless of the time of day, though it was little more than perpetual darkness this far away from the surface access ports that dotted the planet. Those walking, huddling, or hustling on the street didn't dare mess with Celtar despite his cane. He walked with purpose and he stared at everyone that he saw, a quiet message intended to intimidate people into leaving them alone. Luckily for him, it worked.
After roughly ten quiet minutes, Celtar came to a halt near a railing. Beneath him sat the landing pad that he had scouted earlier and, on the landing pad sat a ship. If all went well, it would soon be there ship. Turning to the Ubese, Celtar began walking towards the nearby turbolift. "These guys are up-and-coming spice smugglers. They're unaffiliated and lack the resources to be a real threat. We're going to take their ship from them. If possible, I don't want to kill them. Coruscant Security doesn't really care but killing them is boring and they won't be able to chase us for a while, if ever." Celtar stepped into the turbolift, passing a Rodian on the way in. He waited for the Ubese to board before thumbing the button that would bring them to the landing pad. "They just finished modifying this puppy and they sank every credit into it. It's a small crew. The dockmaster gave me his datapad in exchange for a hundred credits and he forgot to disconnect it from his system before he handed it over."
As the turbolift came to a halt, Celtar handed her the datapad. "I think he might be affiliated with someone but he only knows me as Darul so, y'know, we don't have to worry about him. Do whatever you want with it, just don't break it and don't sell it for spice. I brought you along because I figured you'd like the chance for a free stash." The last sentence might be true, though it was true that Celtar was looking forward to a free re-up of his particular type of spice. It was funny how far credits went when you bent the right ear and a few hours of surveillance about the sector's newest, prettiest addition was certainly worth it.
Celtar stepped off the turbolift and walked towards a Twi'lek who was overseeing a few cargo droids as they loaded unlabeled cargo into the hold. The Twi'lek reached a hand to his blaster and Celtar held his hands outstretched in an obvious bid to appear nonthreatening. The only thing he was holding was his cane and his blaster was safely out of sight, obscured by his robes. "I'm Darul and this is my associate. We need passage offworld, preferably to Nar Shaddaa. We hear you're the best smugglers in the sector and haven't yet drawn the attention of Coruscant Police. We'll pay two thousand now and three thousand on arrival on Nar Shaddaa."
As he spoke, Celtar found himself reaching for an energy that he hadn't reached for in some time. Better yet, it was an energy that he had actively hid from. It was an energy that, last time he felt it, did nothing but break him. Even now, his mind struggled to reach out, a result of years of actively suppressing the need or desire to do so. The tendrils of his mind finally fell upon the elusive thread of energy that was the Force and Celtar called upon it to make his words more enticing. To make his deal too appealing to pass up. To trick the opponents into letting them into the ship.