Gangs of Galis

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  canals.’

  

  A joint espionage operation between the Marzios and Galis

  Blades ensued. Nothing like it had ever occurred in Galis City

  before. Business faltered. Many a made-man and associate found

  themselves at the end of Trooper justice due to the lack of informers. But investigation found that the Troopers had not,

  indeed, had anything to do with the killings. They were just as

  surprised as the rest of Galis’ underworld. Rather, a rat stationed

  within the Troopers knew a little too much. The question was,

  whose rat?

  Galis was home to many gangs of varying power, style and creed.

  What the investigation found was that the ones who had spymasters,

  no longer did. It was the same story every time. An individual,

  identity meant to be a secret, was gunned down in one of the many

  alleys. Sometimes, a car was reported speeding away. Other times, a

  cloaked figure. Never anything substantive.

  With the unknown, came uncertainty. With uncertainty, came

  fear. With fear, came violence. The gangs of Galis found themselves

  in a war more brutal than anything they had ever experienced

  before. But this wasn’t over resources, or markets, or turf – it was

  over suspicion. In Galis, very few thought before they acted. The

  Galis Blades and the Marzios were two of the few who did. But the

  rest of the mob were not helping this process, as both gangs had to

  defend their borders with lead, which further heated up the conflict.

  ‘Don,’ Mac gave a nervous bow. Danny waved him in.

  He sat in the back room of the ‘butcher’ – his headquarters. The

  room was cool and classy. Red-velvet. Mozar leather. Artwork.

  Books. It was a room that exuded wealth and culture. Danny,

  despite his profession, was erudite. He wanted people to know it.

  ‘I found one of Michel’s informants…’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Nothing. Dead in a canal.’

  Danny pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes to fight

  off a headache.

  ‘Anything else?’

  Mac shrugged. ‘Was told to tell you that business is getting

  tougher. Troopers aren’t the problem no more. Syliths, the gang,

  not the insect, are encroaching on our turf. We lost an entire block

  a few hours ago. Three made-men dead. Capo got out.’

  ‘I know, Mac. Last thing I want, or wanted, was a war. Didn’t

  even want an empire. Too unwieldy. I just wanted to sell hookers

  and crank. Was that too much to ask?’

  Mac snorted.

  ‘Finding the murderer isn’t even the problem no more. Ain’t it,

  Don? Could just as well blame it on someone else. Just need to get

  them vowls to stop eating each other.’

  Mac turned to leave when Danny jumped up, his rare wooden

  chair falling to the ground.

  ‘Mac! That’s brilliant.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘A scapegoat,’ Danny muttered to himself. ‘That’s what we need.

  Michel is dead. Isn’t coming back, no matter if we catch his killer.

  What matters is stopping this damn war.’

  Mac stood, silent.

  ‘Get a car around, Mac. I need to see Immondo.’

  ‘Right-o boss.’

  

  Danny waited inside the domed hall in the Corporate District of

  Galis City. The glass ceiling let in the natural light of Extos III, the

  star which this planet revolved around, while stopping its heat. This

  was a conference centre for inter-company deals, rentable by any

  party. It was nestled in the shining corporate district, a zone which

  existed long before the refugees came flooding in from Red Sand.

  Here, the Troopers actually held power. And that is why Danny

  chose this location. No gang, no matter how tough, would risk a war

  with the Troopers. There would be peace here, for now.

  The Marzios and Blades had sent out missives and gossip-

  mongers around the city. The message was the same for everyone.

  The Don had found the real culprit of the informant killings. He

  wanted to expose them in front of the entire underworld. It was

  made clear that any gang who didn’t attend would be seen as guilty.

  No matter how drug-fuelled, insane or arrogant, all the

  underworld bosses knew they couldn’t risk not being at this

  meeting. As such, a myriad of vehicles lined the street outside the

  domed conference building. Galis Blades arrived in an armoured

  car, Purgers walked, Syliths in buggies. Tens more of cars arrived,

  bearing leaders of gangs that Danny had never even heard of. The

  entirety of this gargantuan city’s underworld was at his fingertips.

  ‘This going to work?’ Danny heard Zito mutter.

  ‘Come on, Zito,’ Danny grinned. ‘It’s me.’

  Zito snorted. In amusement or doubt, Danny didn’t know.

  The leaders filed in, corporate security scanning them for

  weaponry. Many of them balked at the treatment, but none left

  because of it. After half an hour, the corporate security team had to

  bring in reinforcements to carry the confiscated weapons to safety.

  The gangs sorted themselves by alliance, forming a mish-mash

  of different colours and uniforms. Immondo sat next to Danny.

  Corporate security guarded the entrances with sub-machine guns.

  As the final leader sat down, Danny left his seat and stood at the

  podium in the centre of the gallery.

  He smiled, took in a deep breath and spoke.

  ‘Friends, enemies, gangsters – I’ve gathered you all here today to

  solve our mutual problem.’

  ‘Get a move on!’ a gangster from one of the south-side gangs

  shouted.

  Danny ignored him, and continued.

  ‘These past weeks, our city and our enterprises have been burnt

  to the ground, by one another. With our informants dead, we have

  lost our eyes and ears. Troopers pick us off. We kill what’s left. Al

  this accomplishes is the death of our mutual interests.’

  ‘Mutual?’ a man in the front row spat. ‘Galis ain’t big enough for

  all of us. Can’t be mutual. We not gonna share.’

  Danny gave a fake smile.

  ‘Au contraire, dear Sylith. We can. Business is not a zero-sum

  game. We can all do business in this city. None of us is big enough

  to control it all. There is no reason to fight over it. If we stick to our

  borders, we all profit.’

  ‘Easy for you to say,’ the same man interrupted. ‘You got an

  entire district…’

  ‘Which means nothing while we fight. None of us can conduct

  business as long as we’re bombing each other. With this war, Sylith,

  none of us profit.’

  ‘What do you propose?’ Immondo asked, on cue.

  ‘I propose that we form a Board.’

  ‘Like those suits down in Titan City? We ain’t corporates!’ a voice

  came from the backrow.

  ‘Not a government. A Board to ensure negotiation, peaceful

  allocation of turf and aid us all in this industry we call crime. We rob

  blindly. We step on each other’s toes. We intrude because we don’t

  know who owns what. With this formal body, we can ensure that

  we all maximise our potential profit. None
of us are going to be

  empires if we keep destroying one another. What we all can be,

  however, are businesses. Together, with the Galisian Racketeering

  Board, we can ensure the future of crime in Galis City.’

  The room erupted in shouts. Some of the gangs who were in

  agreement started arguing with those who were not. Danny put his

  hand up to halt the agitated corporate guards.

  Then the Sylith in front boomed.

  ‘But that is not why we are here!’

  The room silenced.

  ‘Yes, observant Sylith. And thank you for getting us back on

  point. We are here to discuss our mutual enemy. An enemy which

  investigation has shown to be in this room.

  Muttering. Danny raised his hand to silence the crowd.

  ‘Fancy that you’d encourage this topic, Sylith.’

  Danny stared the man in the eyes. He didn’t flinch.

  ‘Marzio turf is right by your headquarters, is it not?’

  ‘What of it?’

  ‘It was always a shame you couldn’t expand. A shame that a gang

  with dreams of empire had to live next to such a colossus. A shame

  that could easily be rectified with a bullet in the right man’s head.

  But why stop there? Galis needs an emperor, doesn’t it? And all

  these pesky gangs in your way. And bullets are so cheap on Zona

  Nox…’

  ‘What are you getting at?’ The Sylith still wasn’t catching on.

  ‘Syliths didn’t lose their spymaster. The rest of us did. That is a

  little bit suspicious. With only you able to dodge patrols, the rest of

  us would be dead by a Trooper carbon round. Why do the dirty

  work when the tin-men can do it for you?’

  The Sylith and his cronies jumped. ‘This is an outrage! Syliths do

  our own fighting.’

  ‘Tell that to the gallery.’

  The Sylith leader turned, sweating. Some of his neighbours began

  advancing towards him. He reached for his jacket, and as Danny

  had planned, pulled out a gun that he had managed to ‘sneak’ past

  the security.

  Corporate guards opened fire. The bullets rended the Sylith

  leader and his cronies. Danny didn’t flinch as blood splattered on

  his face and clean shirt.

  As the bullets stopped, Danny continued.

  ‘With our enemy gone, we can have peace. I now convene the

  first meeting of the Galis Racketeering Board.’

  There were no objections.

  

  No one dared to oppose the Marzio Mafia as they left the dome.

  Most of the gangs who noticed the Corporate guards take off their

  armour to reveal Marzio colours didn’t raise a ruckus. But some

  gangs did resist their annexation. Danny eliminated them. The rest

  filed in. No Trooper patrol happened by. Danny had their blessing.

  Uppity, honourable, just – the Troopers were still subservient to

  credits.

  For the gangs of Galis, they knew that it was too late to resist.

  This city would be under Marzio control – for better or worse.

  Danny had never wanted this type of empire, but it was a means

  to an end. The gangs would comply. Soon, they would even come

  to accept the rule of the Board. Even now, many a smaller gang had

  joined the Marzios, solidifying his control over the entire slum district.

  ‘This was a good day,’ Danny smiled, sincerely, as his driver

  drove in a convoy of black cars back to the butcher. Along the

  highway, previously alight with open warfare, Danny was pleased to

  see no smoke on the horizon.

  The sun was sinking as they took an off-ramp into the Poor

  District. Much of the convoy had arrived much earlier to ensure that

  the district would be defended against reprisals. Danny had arrived

  at a much more leisurely pace. This was his city now. He wanted to

  admire it. It would be changing soon. Might as well take in a last

  look. This war that had lasted so long, the pointless conflict, was

  over. There would be empire now. Danny’s empire. It wasn’t exactly

  what he wanted, but Danny was an optimist. You compromised.

  This was a comfortable compromise for him. So what if he was an

  emperor? It didn’t matter as long as he was also a businessman.

  Danny imagined red lights flickering. They seemed so real.

  It was getting dark as they turned into the butchery’s street.

  Danny jolted in his seat as the driver hastily braked. Black cars were

  arranged around the street haphazardly.

  ‘Skite,’ Danny swore, a rare feat.

  He unbuckled and left his seat. A crowd was assembled around

  the building. Most were fellow gang members. Many had been at

  the dome. He was able to pass through, easily. He almost gagged at

  the sight on the other side.

  Zito Gorlea, who had been sent out to secure the turf hours

  before, was impaled on the butchery sign. Where once a sign of a

  spitted pig was hung, the enforcer was dripping his guts onto the

  sandy street below.

  The steel door behind him was wide open. Danny entered, side-

  stepping the dripping blood and entrails.

  The butcher who manned the counter had met a similar fate. He

  was nailed to the wall, hand-length nails splaying him like an

  artwork. In his chest, written in his blood, was a rising sun.

  Danny choked down some bile, holding his mouth for good

  measure.

  He left the noxious room and surveyed the crowd. Black-suits.

  Wide eyes. Sweat. Not mere perspiration, like Zito. Nervous sweat.

  His empire. His business. The red lights began to fade.

  ‘M-men,’ Danny stuttered, quietly, and then spoke clearly.

  ‘Reinforce the turf. We’re going to war.’

  

  In the days afterwards, Danny gave up on the red lights. The Rising Sun, a warlord from the bandit town of Red City, had

  sabotaged the Galisian underworld. In their fear and suspicion of

  one another, they had allowed themselves to fall. The south-side fell

  in days. The gangs who didn’t join the Zenites, found themselves

  hanging by their entrails.

  Danny realised that the war that had blighted Galis for so long

  before, was not really war. It was business. With the Zenites, things

  changed. The Zenites didn’t care about credits. They made enough

  taxing the entire south-side. The Rising Sun wanted an empire. Not

  a glitzy, casino and vice filled enterprise, but a blood-soaked nation

  to dominate. Danny could not compete with that.

  The Galisian Racketeering Board still functioned. It established

  organised black markets for thieves, unions for whores, and even a

  court of territorial disputes. The latter became irrelevant, however,

  as all the gangs that survived the Zenites joined with the Marzios,

  excluding the Purgers of Filth, who decided to fight their own

  crusade. The Galisian Blades changed sides, depending on the bid.

  Nobody could accuse them of treachery. They were the best, and

  you paid for the best.

  Galis was a divided city. Marzios in the north, Purgers in the east,

  and Zenites controlling the south. The Troopers could do nothing

  as alien invaders, once again, began harassing their borders. It was up to the gangs of Galis to protect the city, from thugs, from<
br />
  psychos, from themselves.

  Danny gave up on the red lights. He had to settle for barred,

  tinted windows. He could ignore this from his armoured office

  inside the butchery, but whenever he left, and examined the dusty,

  decrepit street of his home, he was reminded of how much he hated

  this city.

  Dear reader,

  I hope you enjoyed Gangs of Galis.

  Don’t stop now! Danny Marzio, Galis City and Zona Nox await in

  Shadow, book 1 of the Warpmancer Series.

  You can check it out here.

  If you love your sci-fi epic, then you’ll love Warpmancer.