Populate [Black Sun] Best Served Cold || BSS Populate of Empty Hex

[Khuro Fierfek]

Khuro rolled her golden eyes to the side while still facing forward to look at the Zeltron. They hadn’t met but Khuro knew exactly who the violet eyed Vigo was. One didn’t enter into the service of the Black Sun and did not get the lay of the land at the top. Well, one could, if they wanted their service to be short and lethal. Mauve du Vain , the Vigo of Deceit, as the whispers dubbed her.

It seemed someone far more dangerous had intervened before her patron in Razmir could provide a much more secure and guided introduction. Khuro listened to Mauve serenade her with sardonic witticisms about problems, vengeance, and the violent beauty therein.

“I wouldn’t know about such beauty,” replied Khuro flatly. “I am an assassin, and I am not well connected enough to have problems. I am only given targets,” Khuro said, finally turning her head to meet the Zeltron’s beckoning violet eyes with her deadpan golden ones. “And I usually prefer them to die without even seeing me coming,” she continued.

Another puff from her cigarra-holder and another slim stream of green tabac smoke was exhaled from her pursed, black inked, lips. “Fierfek…Khuro Fierfek,” Khuro introduced herself, bowing her head slightly to Mauve. “At your service, Vigo Du Vain.”

OBJECTIVE 3
​

 

[Deathstick]

FIRST TOYDARIAN GALACTIC BANK
TOYDOR CITY

OBJECTIVE I: Bularian, the Aleenan Banker

The small group of assassins landed silently on the rooftop of the banking building.

"Second floor, we approach from all directions."

Masked and covered faces nodded affirmatively.

Deathstick pushed into a quick crouch as he approached the north side of the building and slipped over the edge. His gloved hands latched onto the smooth surface, biting into the duracrete with sharp climbing claws that extended from the fingertips. He scaled down, a shadow in the night, and found a window on the second floor. A small device was pulled from Deathstick's belt, before it activated and sliced into the reflective surface without effort.

"Relish the kills to come."

The window hole slid inward, and the assassin slipped through, landing in a low run on silent padded shoes. He moved through the offices of the upper floor quickly and quietly, helmet visor scanning and sensors active. Within several minutes, lifeform readings began to appear. A filter of the Aleena biology soon narrowed it down to a specific working station - a larger one, as would be expected.

Over the comms, the Kouhun spoke with short communications, as they shared confirmation of security guards being silenced.

Mercy, delivered in its purist form.

At the work station, Bularian tapped on the keys, scanning reports... and only when the sharp edge of the dagger pressed against his saggy throat, did the alien realize someone was behind him.

"W-what? Who?!"

"Shhh," Deathstick whispered, as he applied a chokehold to the smaller creature. "Your time is passed, now you return to the nothingness where we all began."


SEVERAL MINUTES LATER...

Deathstick stood on the top of the banking building, his visor downward, as he looked at the hanging corpse of Bularian. The dead thing was strung from the upper corners of the building, held in place by lengths of synthrope, attached at the wrists and ankles. The alien's chest was bare, and where the mottled skin had been, there was now the symbol of the Black Sun, etched with a heated blade.

"Our work is done, my Kouhun," Deathstick muttered through the voice receptor of his mask to the assassins around him. "Now we return to the shadows."

The group stepped back from the building edge and receded into the fog that permeated the night...

Exit​

 

[Mauve du Vain]

The dead thing was strung from the upper corners of the building, held in place by lengths of synthrope, attached at the wrists and ankles. The alien's chest was bare, and where the mottled skin had been, there was now the symbol of the Black Sun, etched with a heated blade.

“You see that?” Mauve pointed at the view screen, which displayed the swaying corpse of the Aleenan. She took another sip of her drink, savoring this moment. She couldn’t help it. Mauve had told herself she would not wallow in other’s grief like some Sith hog. Lying to herself again. It just felt so good. Seeing that corpse swaying there, knowing she’d had the one who orchestrated her death executed, in his own headquarters.

“He thought gods owed him money.”

Mauve examined her nail polish. “He learned the truth too late. Credits are just a concept we made up. A figment of imagination. Turns out they don’t do you any good when a Whiphid assassin knocks at your door. They don’t stop the rope around your neck from strangling you. Just make believe.”

The Zeltron’s smile was a cold, hideous thing. “Guess the gods stopped believing.”

Khuro Fierfek

 

[Koda Fett]

Razmir Tezhyn

​

He might have been ill-accustomed and ill-dressed, but not ill-prepared. Fett possessed a Black Crown, after all. Imparted upon him by Mauve in New Vertica. The Zeltron might have thought him her dog with that, but the leash was so frayed it snapped at the first pull. He went where the credits were and one man was richer than the rest.

Fett crossed the gala floor, weaving in between the finely dressed criminals that played pretend better than most. His armour stood in stark contrast, what with that ratty sidecloak and the Wookiee braids.

The closest thing to a gala Fett had known was in the dimly lit and smoke filled Hutt palace nestled somewhere tight in between the towers of Nar Chunna. That one ended in a rampaging Kowakian monkey-lizard and the wrong dead Hutt, neither of which was even his fault. Some years ago now.

"Raz," never Razmir, "You were paying for Sith and Imp intel. How about Jedi? Finished up one of Jerec's on Odessen, he paid his share, but... I make my credits where I can."

​

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

Above Toydaria
Aim True, Ye Vengeful

​

Razmir watched the proceedings with hands clasped behind his back. Messy affairs like this one were...unfortunate...he had to admit that much. But the Underworld ran on rules far less forgiving than even the razor shark-infested waters of the business world. It wasn't an eye for an eye. Retaliation needed to be absolute. None could be left to pick up the torch and carry it forward in the name of revenge. Else you risked initiating a cycle of bloodletting. A slow, bloody war of attrition.

Extremely unprofitable affairs.

Deathstick stood on the top of the banking building, his visor downward, as he looked at the hanging corpse of Bularian. The dead thing was strung from the upper corners of the building, held in place by lengths of synthrope, attached at the wrists and ankles. The alien's chest was bare, and where the mottled skin had been, there was now the symbol of the Black Sun, etched with a heated blade.

"Rather gruesome, eh?" Razmir tried to read any reaction from the Bounty Hunter.

As expected, the visor only reflected the frown his own expression wore.

"What use do you have for credits, Hunter? Indulge me, if you would."

Koda Fett

 

[Koda Fett]

Razmir Tezhyn

​

He glanced up to the screen, seeing the scene many in the room recoiled at the sight of. "Just a job," he idly commented, indifference thickly laid in that modulated voice, coming from a man that stacked enough bodies to build strong fortress walls from. He might not have been the best one to ask.

It was a good, honest question - what came next. People sought after credits for a million and more reasons, and whether Fett desired them for any reason beyond merely wanting them, it was left up in the air. Until now, maybe. The would-be Mandalorian gave a shrug of his armoured shoulders with the tilting lean of his helmeted gaze.

"Ever tried eating a reputation?"

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

OBJECTIVE 1a: REEGOR — COMPLETED

Later, Skeevi would look back on this operation with excessive pride. Instrumentation: vibroknives, medpack, fine liquor as disinfectant, half a tube of Iskalloni Large Pink Plant paste, someone's ion blaster retuned as a defibrillator. Principals: one recently deceased Toydarian matron shot through the heart; one prosthetic heart recently removed from somewhere. Operating theatre: the bridge of a Hutt Caravel, still stinking of blaster char. Outcome: survival. That had as much to do with Flapessa's will to live as with Skeevi's expertise. The Toydarian snatched up the liquor bottle upon resuscitation and accepted her commission as a Cataclyst captain with great equanimity. The two spaced men had only been her stepsons.

 

[Velzari Tharn]

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
D A N C E - A S - T H E Y - B U R N​

​

Velzari’s lips were a flat crease on his unblemished skin, unamused and unimpressed even as the princess approached. Only after reciprocating her nod of respect did the corners of his mouth tug into a charming smile. He tilted his head, regarding her well considered the risk she posed. Though he would not divulge his beliefs openly, he considered her relationship with Mauve du Vain to be quite unpredictable, and therefore potentially dangerous for Black Sun. Only his trust in Mauve’s discernment protected his Vigo’s little dance with the princess.

“The pleasure is mine,” Velzari teased with a click of the tongue. He swirled the last of his drink before sipping it down and setting his glass to the side. Swiftly, it was collected by a waitress who seemed to be waiting nearby to cater to the Underlord. As quickly as she emerged from the shadows, she was gone.

“It’s not often I have the… honor of meeting such prominent figures of the Sith-Imperial court,” he said, searching for a moment to find a proper adjective. His smile turned into a wolfish grin.

“Tell me, Princess Varanin… what brings you to our little hive of scum and villainy?”

Tags: Quinn Varanin
​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Dance As They Burn //:
//: Velzari Tharn //:

The benefits of being Echani and trained in their ways since before she could stand helped her in situations such as this. Her eyes easily picked up on the strain in the small muscles of his face, the twitch behind his eyes as he looked at her. He wasn't fond of the Princess, but enough context of her interactions was enough to know that.

But Velzari was smart. It was one of the reasons she was still able to breathe — something she'd have to thank Mauve for later. It was all assumption, but Quinn wouldn't be surprised if the Zeltron potentially had a hand in things.

She was very good at that.

Quinn's smile remained unchanged for the man before her.

"There aren't many of us," She mused, "Not many worth meeting, either, besides the Empress and Emperor and of course myself."

Any other time, she would have referred to them as her parents, but Velzari was, at the end of the day, a stranger for now. Showing any sign of weakness could sign her death warrant. Quinn paused and listened to his question about her curiosities in Black Sun.

Her smile widened, remaining soft as it should be for a Princess.

"To be honest, it started as a general curiosity. I've been behind the Blackwall for some time now, and the rest of the galaxy continues with or without us." She mused, her hands finding their way behind her back as she continued.

"Rumors of the strength of the Syndicate had filtered their way into the Empire. The quickness of your expansion and your reputation preceded you. Having spent some time now in your hive, as you put it — I've found myself enthralled."

Quinn brushed back strands of white and blonde hair from her face. She continued, her gaze still locked to his — hoping to see any flicker of an emotion.

"I had wished for us to meet sooner, but I commend your Vigos. They've been quite hospitable. Purely an extension of your power and reach. I will say, I admire it, but I'm also quite jealous. It's an inspiration for when I become Empress of the Sith."

She paused; her own personal endeavors weren't something she would indulge the man. This was business, not a revealing of the heart.

"I hope my answer has sated your curiosities, Your Grace." Once more, the woman nodded her head, giving the respect of his station in his Empire.

"I'm curious to know your thoughts on the matter of our agreements and alliances."

 

[Enric Hask]

The Minister led him up the broad staircase, wings straining under his weight as they climbed toward the more secluded upper chambers. The air grew cooler here, filtered and perfumed with sweet herbs. He ushered him into a polished reception hall lined with tall windows. Beyond a carved double door on the far wall, Hask caught the faint glimmer of durasteel and the telltale shadow of a heavy blast door. The palace's secure wing. Exactly where he'd planned to be.

The Minister drifted to the center of the room, motioning for Hask to set the crate on a low marble table. "You must understand," the Toydarian began, his voice sliding into the silken cadence of a salesman, "my government has limited appetite for risk. If what you're carrying is truly as unique as you say, there will be scrutiny. And scrutiny is inconvenient."

Hask unlatched the crate with deliberate slowness, letting the hinges creak. "That's the beauty of it, Minister. No one looks twice at a children's toy."

The Toydarian's eyes narrowed. "I will, of course, need to verify your claim. And adjust my offer accordingly. Say…two hundred thousand credits."

Hask gave a low, almost pitying laugh. "Two hundred thousand? Minister, I brought this across three sectors, past two blockades, and through your own customs web without a whisper of detection. Three, two, one. I have a law degree, I can do math. That is at least six hundred thousand for my troubles, alone. Two hundred wouldn't even pay for my fuel."

The Minister's wings twitched irritably. "Three-fifty, then. And that is a generous offer, considering the speculative nature of your claim."

"Speculative?" Hask stepped closer, voice softening but carrying a faint edge. "The only speculation here is whether you're trying to insult me or you think I'm desperate enough to take whatever crumbs you offer."

The Minister puffed up, feigning indignation. "I am offering you a fair deal."

Hask let a long pause settle between them, then exhaled through his nose as though beaten down by the unfairness of the galaxy. "Fine. Three-fifty. You drive a hard bargain." He slid the crate across the table toward the Minister, the plush toy's stitched smile bobbing in the dim light. A soft ding indicted the transfer of credits.

Turning for the door, Hask didn't glance back. Halfway down the adjoining corridor, he pressed the stud on the small remote in his palm. "Greedy little bastard," he muttered, shaking his head with amusement. The explosion tore through the reception hall, shattering windows and sending dust and papers swirling into the air. The Trade Minister had practically handed over the palace for the promise of a payday. Hask had been looking for excitement, and yet it was almost cartoonish how perfectly everything had fallen into place.

While guards swarmed toward the blast, he slipped down a side passage aiming straight toward the blast door he'd glimpsed before. Somewhere outside, his teams were already moving, cutting through the palace perimeter and locking down their approach.

By the time anyone thought to wonder where he'd gone, he would be standing in the vault with the King's wealth at his feet.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: First Toydarian Galactic Bank
Objective: Now that everything is done, it's time for some chaos
Tags: CT-312 + Open

---

Scherezade's smile was all teeth as she descended the marble steps toward the bank. The Death Drop crew had proven to be every deliciously bad idea she'd hoped for when she'd joined them. Last job, she'd gotten one of the best massages in galactic history. This one? Less spa day, more slaughter. In other words, fun.

She glided through the doors like she owned the place, silk and shadow wrapped in the illusion of old money. The air conditioning kissed her skin, the sort of small, decadent luxury she remembered longing for back when her idea of wealth was a full meal and boots without holes. That had been fifteen years and a few dozen "creative" ventures ago, like the Whimsy Products' Uncommon Means of Mass Destruction line, which had ensured she'd never starve again.

The funny thing? People thought they knew what rich looked like. They didn't. The ones who claimed they could spot it were always wrong. But today wasn't about education. Today was about opportunity.

Sliding into a chair across from a banker whose tie screamed "safe investments," she let her purse fall open just enough to slip out a sleek little calling card and a dime-sized droid that had been gifted to her by CT-312 for the purpose of doing this mission, palmed perfectly so it kissed the back of his monitor without him noticing.

"Yes," she purred, folding her hands on the desk, her eyes sparkling like knives in champagne. "I have a once-in-a-lifetime business opportunity. It's going to make a lot of people a lot of money."

Her smile widened, slow and predatory.

"Starting with me."

 

[Rin Aikawa]

Objective I: Kill them All
Location: Banks
Tags: Mercy | Drakon Teague | William Ames

The Toydarian Bankers were flying about and scrambling as many others were trying to gather what they could and flee. Many of the others who worked under them were doing the same. Each hunting down what they could before trying to escape whoever was attacking. Blaster fire broke through the door and slammed into one of them. Sending him flying down into the ground with a smoking hole in his side. Groaning from pain and dying. Moving to be behind the counter, I was unsure what to do. Yes escaping was necessary for me right now, but I really did not feel like trying to run out into blaster fire.

This was the worst job I have had in a while. Always trying to look for a job. This time, just a front desk secretary that was trying to make ends meet. As it so happened to be my third day on the job that all of this was going down. Why was it at the worst times possible that stuff like this happened? I really was cursed at this point. Trouble always following me.

That was when I found someone grabbing my wrist. Pulling me out from under the desk and into the open. A Toydarian was trying to grab me and use me as a shield to get wherever he wanted to go.

"No you don't!"

My hand wrenched free from his grip. Stepping forward, I threw an open palm strike to his nose. A solid hit sending him reeling back with his wings and dipping low. Trying to recover from the strike. Yelling through his busted nose-trunk that was bleeding.

"GET HER! SHE'S ONE OF THEM!"
"Chit."

Vaulting over the desk and trying to get away from them, two more came over and grabbed my arms. Trying to lift me into the air. My arms phased through their grip. Dropping me back down to the ground. In the haste of dropping, my hands phased through the ground and held me there for a moment. Giving them time to try and grab me. Yanking my arms free, they solidified once more. My grip reaching to grab the Nose-trunk of the first one and yanking hard down. A squeal of pain erupted from him, but muffled with his nose clenched.

The second one grabbed my arm. Trying to yank me back. My hand gripped his arm in return. Jumping up, I used the momentum to twist over his arms. binding them on one another before landing, My free hand came over his to lock them into a hold, before using my forearms to press and apply pressure. Breaking his hold before my hands threw themselves forward. A blast of a Telekinetic wave erupted from my hands sending him flying. Slamming into the desk I had vaulted over a moment before.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Yelling out as I turned around and didn't care about blaster bolts anymore. At least I might have a chance with that. Racing to the door, to try and leave.

 

[Liréa Voss]

Upon entering my target's bedroom, I see that he's indeed there. I had personally taken care of Gerrena's mansion this banker, businessman the Black Sun Syndicate wants dead. I walk up to him; he's surprised to see me. I understand his reaction it's never pleasant to have someone barge in while you're sleeping in your bed. As a warning, I point my blaster at him and speak in Huttese to threaten him with death.

"Wamma wanga yo koona, tuta jee-jee koona."

Speaking in Huttese is no coincidence he understands I'm not here for show. Before he has time to reach for his phone or call security which, in any case, is nonexistent I pull the trigger on my blaster and execute the target cleanly. The shot rings out, the banker collapses to the floor in a pool of blood. I look at him. It means nothing to me. I take out my own phone and snap a picture of him as proof the contract has been carried out.

I then activate the Black Sun Syndicate's communications in my directory to inform them someone has taken out the target.

"Your target has been executed. The banker is dead."

They must be wondering who I am, but for now, I send them a photo of the man's corpse to prove the target is indeed dead always best to back up your word in the criminal world.

Of course, I don't stop at killing the man. I head for his personal safe to steal all his most precious treasures some gemstones and cartel credits, which will be much better off in my pocket. I pack everything into my satchel and all that's left is to destroy the mansion.

I now leave the bedroom, destination: the bar. Alcohol will serve to start a giant bonfire, killing everything in my path in a methodical, cold carnage. I don't meet much resistance between droids and servants, it's not really fun. The only one left alive is the woman I tied up and gagged in the closet. Maybe I'll go see her for some fun later.

But first, I head to the bar, spot a bottle of whiskey, and take a few with me. They clink as I carry them, but that's fine. I start running through the house, pouring the contents everywhere the alcohol makes an excellent accelerant. Time to burn this place to the ground.

Objective One : the Merchant District of Toydor City Manor Gerrona . Tag : Open

 

[Mercy]

Objective I: Kill them All & Steal Their Things
Location: Toydarian Silver District
Tags: Rin Aikawa | Drakon Teague | William Ames | Kloe Weo | Oleander

The Toydarians had it good for a long time.

Apparently they crossed the wrong faction when a cabal of them put in a bounty against Mauve du Vain and Razmir Tezhyn . Mercy didn't really understand what the issue was. Bounties were great, she wished they put higher ones on her, in fact. But the Black Sun seemed to take it personally and Mercy enjoyed taking the opportunity for personal gain.

While the others breached their banks and dragged their nobles out of their palaces, Mercy's eye was caught by a different location entirely. The Silver District where some of their most wealthy bankers lived.

Those who are rich were notorious to keep their most valuable stuff on them or near them. Not in a bank vault they couldn't access twenty-four-seven, but perhaps under a mattress. It was only confirmed to Mercy when her Graspborn encountered the opulent wealthy merchants in a state of uproar, dragging things out of their homes, fighting one another.

Mercy whistled.

Her people got to work and Mercy waded into the situation along with them.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Yelling out as I turned around and didn't care about blaster bolts anymore. At least I might have a chance with that. Racing to the door, to try and leave.

Rin would walk straight into the living wall that was Mercy. Not a Toydarian in the slightest. "Tsk, tsk. What do we have here? You don't look like a slimy flying bug with a snout." Her hand would settle on the girl's shoulder like iron as she looked over her head to the scene within. "Mm, were these bugs bugging you, dear, should I help?"

She'd pull Rin away from the door and towards some of her people. Perhaps Ames, Teague, Ole or Kloe.

Moving inside herself... the blaster fire erupted promptly.

 

[Velzari Tharn]

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
D A N C E - A S - T H E Y - B U R N​

​

A wry smile and slow nod from Underlord were good signs.

“The rumors are true,” Velzari confirmed. “No map will show it, but Black Sun’s influence is felt on hundreds of worlds. Though I admit… behind your Blackwall, that influence is felt far less than I would like.” He left the hint of interest float for a moment before drifting to the topic of his Vigos.

Velzari was pleased that Princess Varanin saw the value of his dark council. Despite his expectations and proclivity for harsh punishment, the worth of competent, loyal, hungry Vigos was not lost on Velzari.

He tilted his head with regard. “‘Vigo’ is Falleen for ‘cousin,’” he explained.

“For better or worse, we are nothing without our families. Family makes us strong. Unless, of course, they are weak links—Black Sun’s family is quite similar to a pack in that regard.”

His smile darkened.

“Weak links weaken the chain. And chains, Princess, are what holds everything together.“

Was he speaking generally of his organization, or was it a veiled threat against Mauve for the outcome of her mission on Wielu? Perhaps both were true. And perhaps Velzari wanted Quinn to know that if he was willing to hold one of his top lieutenants mortally accountable, a hitherto unacquainted Sith would face the same—if not worse.

Tags: Quinn Varanin
​

 

[Drakon Teague]

Objective I: Kill them All & Steal Their Things
Location: Toydarian Silver District
TAG: Oleander | Kloe Weo | William Ames | Rin Aikawa | Mercy

Drakon was getting bored. These Toydorians were pathetic, barely even put up a fight. Drakon lived for fighting, he lived for the challenge of outmatching a worthy opponent. The victory was hollow when it was too easily won. Drakon hadn't even bothered to bring his pirate crew along with him. He knew that the team that had been suggested he go along with was more than enough to handle these buzzing little ugly mozquitos.

Two Sith, A beserker, an assassin and a pirate. More than enough of a squad to handle anything that these grotesque little flying probocis slugs. Drakon usually was accompanied by a squad of his own pirates of course, but this was a simple mission not one requiring he bring along a frigate or a squad of his own troops.

Still Drakon found he missed the camaraderie and the banter of his crew, they were a lively bunch and might make this farce of a fight a little more interesting. Drakon was lost in thought wondering if he should sign up for podracing when a Toydorian came out of nowhere, screaming he came charging through the air firing his pistol blindly. Drakon snorted with contempt drew one of his pistol scatterguns, from his chest holsters and blasted him from the air. Drakon holstered his blaster still steaming to let it cool down. He held one sword in his hand.

Drakon rolled his eyes as Mercy found a new pet. Rin Aikawa

Sith always wanting to play with their pets and their food. Drakon thought exasperated.

"Leave her she's as pathetic as the rest of these shuta insects" Drakon sniffed contemptuously.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Dance As They Burn //:
//: Velzari Tharn //:

The Prince's words were not lost on the Princess. She understood in detail the courtesies he had granted her. As he explained the Vigo, Quinn listened, fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder. It was the first time she felt as if she had entered a den of wolves, and she was the lamb for slaughter.

Trying to push back the mild unease in her gut, she focused on the rest of his words, letting them sink in. Chains and Family, two things that the Sith weren't known for having. While there were noble families of Sith, it didn't mean there was love. Quite often, Sith killed their own to get ahead and broke their chains for freedom.

Here, chains symbolized unity and strength. Family represented belonging. Both are hand in hand. A curious shift in perception, one that Quinn found herself liking more.

"Chains, to a Sith — they're meant to be broken. They are seen as weak, but again, a Sith usually functions on their own." A hand rested gently on her chin as she thought.

"I had always found the concept counterproductive. To break one's chains ensures freedom, but also you have to be able to stand on your own." She mused with her gentle smile.

"Maybe that is how we rid ourselves of our weakest, but I find myself drawn to your concepts of chains and family." Her voice trailed slightly as Quinn let her gaze drift past the Falleen prince for just a moment.

Family for her was always a point of contention. She never felt as if she belonged with her birth family or her adoptive Family. The Princess had always felt like an outsider. Their concepts here were what drew her in.

"The Blackwall, as much as I've supported it in the past, my own journey has shown me its hindrance to my people. While it protects, there are holes in it, there are flaws in its concept — it's not perfect."

The Blackwall had hindered her own growth, she felt it, even now.

"As I've talked with three of your Vigo, you'll have a way through the Blackwall. With it, I hope that goods that my people don't have access to will flourish with the influence of Black Sun."

It was a dangerous deal, she knew that. But the Alliance was a bleeding, dying animal; the Republic was too busy bickering over its nobility; the Mandalorians and Diarchy were in their own worlds.

The waves of change were within Black Sun.

"You get a new market, one that can strengthen both of our interests."

 

[Oleander]

//: Obj 1 //:
//: Mercy //: Rin Aikawa //: William Ames //: Drakon Teague //: Kloe Weo //:
//: Attire //:

Oleander wasn't much of a fighter, but she found herself having to follow the fire-headed woman into this mess. When hearing about it, she assumed things would be simple and straightforward, but not in a kill-everything way. Oleander followed close behind Mercy the best she could, not wanting to do anything beyond what she had to.

Fighting wasn't her thing, but she could defend herself well enough. As they moved, she easily fell behind and found herself playing catch-up.

She ran with a dagger thorn in her hand, figuring that if there was any notion that she was helping, now would be the time. Seeing the corpse of a Toydarian, she threw her dagger at it and nodded.

Okay, she's done something; now she can do what she would rather do.

She walked up to the rest of the group, the Toydarians were finished off — thank the Queen Mother. Ole didn't have to make any more killing. But seeing the poor girl who ran into Mercy, the Hapan cringed slightly, glad it wasn't her in that situation again.

Her eye carefully scanned the area and then wandered towards the pile of rubble to see if there was anything of interest.

Oleander had one goal in mind, and the only reason she let Mercy talk her into this mess was that she was desperate.

"Um, let me know if you guys hear anything weird or see some patches of algae…"

The algae was nicknamed "talking algae," which could only mean so many things for the little alchemist. Wandering, she knelt down and started to scramble under some of the heavier bits of debris. From her knowledge of plants, it had to be something that grew in dark, damp areas.

What better than a pile of mess?

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: First Toydarian Galactic Bank
Objective: 1
Attire: Bank Heist
Equipment: Vibro-daggers (hidden), blaster pistol (strapped to her thigh)
Tag: CT-312 | Scherezade deWinter

Having worked with the DeathDrop previously, Eira was curious about the way they operated more and certain members were names that she was recognising as people outside of the group. They were curious people and getting a lot of missions, work that allowed Eira to gain more experience.

Robbing a bank. It was an interesting mission assigned to the group, but it was one that could be profitable and give Eira some insight in how things operated more as a unit than an individual assassin. Eira walked up to the building, her raven hair blowing in the breeze as she stuffed her hands into the red and black leather jacket.

Interesting looking bank but Eira didn't think much on the banking industry or banking clans. Money was something Eira was not that aware of, there wasn't much use for it where she was raised as a child. Then as part of the Sith Order, Eira has been fortunate that she had more allowances than she knew what to do with. It was a curiosity for Eira to see how others allowed a company to hoard money, to hold debt and outrageous charges over the heads of others. The concept seemed a little too foreign and conflicting, the idea of doing it to others amused her, but having it done to her would bring the wrath of the feral Sith onto others.

Entering the bank, she carried herself with no wealth or prestige instead, she shifted her gaze around as she assessed the location. Figuring out interesting blind spots, the cameras and the number of guards. There was a queue forming to interact with a teller, Eira spent a few moments looking around getting a good idea of what to expect from being here. Where the focus needed to be when the chaos ensued since the people she was operating with were chaotic. Once her mind had a good look around, Eira found herself at the end of the queue. Waiting for when the action would begin. Waiting for the signal that the mission was going ahead.

Tapping her leg patiently, tapping in rhythm of the guards' footsteps.

 

[William Ames]

Objective 1: Kill Them All, Steal Everything
Location: Silver District
Tags: Rin Aikawa | Mercy | Drakon Teague | Kloe Weo | Oleander​

Another day, another job.

Only this time it seemed to be in response to bounties being placed against two Vigos. It hadn’t taken much to track down who was funding them, and well…you can’t say the Black Sun did things in half measures.

Some Syndicate members had gone after specific targets, others had focused on the palace to rob the vaults there. But Mercy had her eyes set upon a different location entirely. The ‘Silver District’, where apparently a number of Toydarian families had settled themselves. There was a level of arrogance on display, a group of people that dared not be parted with their wealth. Despite the fact it wouldn’t be nearly as secure if it were in a vault.

Not like it matters now anyway.

As the group stepped into the district, they found chaos already erupting. It seemed some families had started verbal and physical spats with one another. Maybe it was over something simple and pathetic, or perhaps a few saw an opportunity.

There were some that were even throwing their valuables outside, perhaps in hope to appease the Black Sun?

Unfortunately for them, they weren’t there just for their riches.

Ames found his focus trained on one of the rare few houses that were actually secured. Doors and windows were concealed by some type of metal barricade. The K’paur didn’t need to check to know there were people within, he could feel it.

Cracking his knuckles, William walked towards the house. He focused on the rage, on the pain that circulated through his body like blood. Blue eyes bleeding into red as he paused some feet away from the door.

“Knock knock!” He called, charging at the barricaded door with the full weight of his body. The dull impact echoed out onto the street, followed by the whining of bent metal, and the cracking of wood. A momentary pause followed, before reality seemed to finally catch up and the doorway exploded open.