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

[CT-312]

//: Scherezade deWinter Eira Dyn Jacen Breska | OPEN //:
//: First Toydarian Galactic Bank, Toydaria //:
//: Attire //:
//: EQUIPMENT: Halcyon Armour| Contact Lenses | Navi/Barca //:
//: WEAPONS: M.I. Model 7 shotgun | LO-22S | M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol //:
//: 1 x Arrow head of Absence | Taozin amulet | LK Spider Slicer Droid //:
//: Objective 1: Kill Them All //:
​

CT-312 watched from across the street. Perched motionless on top of a maintenance platform. Overlooking the First Toydarian Galactic Bank. Her visor tracked Scherezade deWinter and Eira Dyn as they entered. Scherezade strided in like she already owned the bank, and Eira walked like she didn’t care who did.

After a few moments, her HUD pinged. The slicer droid she’d handed Scherezade had linked with BARCA. Connection stable. [Infiltration sequence initiated]. The droid began burrowing through the bank’s firewalls. ‘Perfect.’ CT-312’s HUD lit up with a flow of lines of encrypted data. The list was long: Building schematics, door control, personnel logs, security cameras, and most importantly… client account metadata. Her eyes scanned over each bar as it ticked upward.

[ Progress: 9%... 22%... 47%... ]

Making her way towards the bank, CT-312 activated her active camouflage. Her armor’s outline shimmered. Bent light and vanished into the air. Waiting. Until one of the clients shuffled towards the bank entrance. Ghosting behind. No one noticed.

As she crossed the into the bank's lobby, the heavy security doors hissed closed. Inside the air was… Expensive. Two armed guards flanked the interior. Standing on the opposite end of the doors she just entered. Clearly bored and complacent.

Tssk-chk. The sound was subtle. CT-312 snapped her right vambrace blade out. In a single forward step, the blade impaled the first guard through the sternum. The tip sliding between ribs and puncturing the heart. Eyes widened in confusion as his breath was caught mid-inhale. Hands reaching out. Trying to grasp whatever was in front.

CT-312’s left hand raised automatically, sidearm already drawn.

BANG. The second guard collapsed. The side of his skull became a red smear across the polished tile. Not wasting a second, her right arm twisted. Servos hummed as the armor’s enhanced strength hoisted the impaled guard off his feet like dead weight. Boots scraped against the floor before CT-312 slammed him down. THUD. Echoing through the marble floored lobby. Plunging the blade a second time from the back. Only a breath left the guard’s lungs in a gurgling gasp as his body went still. Pulling her weapon free with a wet, Schlkt.

A cold silence followed. The bank froze. Tellers, clients, and civilians were all staring. Confused and trying to process what happened to the guards. One young man panicked first. Making it for the exit, sprinting.

CT-312 dropped her cloak. The young man stopped dead in his tracks. Her sudden appearance of camouflage armored pattern materialized in front of the doors. Sidearm raised. Steady and unblinking. Aimed squarely at his face. CT-312 hand that gripped the weapon gestured sideways with the barrel. No words. Just an implication. Go back.

The trembling young man obeyed. Hands up. Hunched, turning around slowly. Trying to steadily make his way back to his previous spot.

Standing beside the now-lifeless guards. CT-312's stance was calm. Keeping the pistol raised just enough to remind everyone what happened when you didn’t follow instructions.

A beep rang in her helmet as the HUD flashed green: [Infiltration Complete. Full Access Secured.] Switching to the squad’s encrypted channel. Comms crackled softly, a slow bored exhale with voice low and rough. Muttering. “We’re in.” Mid-yawn, utterly disinterested. CT-312 didn’t bother to stifle it. “Try not to break too much. Bank needs to be intact.”

 

[Liréa Voss]

I keep running around with my bottles of alcohol on my right arm, and with my left hand, I pour and fling the flammable liquid everywhere, making sure it soaks in properly. I pay special attention to the couch too, little by little heading toward the exit while leaving behind a thin trail of liquid.

My last bottle I remove the cap and start drinking it. By the time I'm halfway through, I feel good, serene, and calm. I throw it straight inside the house; the glass explodes and the liquid spreads like a puddle of alcohol.

I light a cigarette with a match, then with a nonchalant gesture I toss the still-burning flame onto the path of liquid I had carefully laid out from the upper floors of the house. Now I watch the fire begin to spread; it climbs up to the second floor, and I hear an explosion from the upper part. Perfect, my plan is unfolding just as intended. I start laughing wickedly, enjoying the show.

Taking out my phone to snap a selfie of the burning house, I admire my work this beautiful, ultra-luxurious mansion has been reduced to a gigantic blaze, even the surrounding vegetation has begun to catch fire.

From a lush and peaceful place, nothing will remain but ashes, charred walls, and me, laughing as I take it all in. I don't know if my servant managed to escape; I hope for her sake she did, otherwise she'll be roasting in a giant barbecue.

Sorry, not sorry. I leave the house by the main gate, my mission accomplished. Now it's time to start aiming for bigger targets than this simple corrupt banker's mansion. I'm already thinking about buying a new ship and I think I know exactly who I'll order it from.

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

 

[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​

​

So the Vigos’ work had preceded him, Velzari noted. Good. This was exactly the sort of agency he expected them to exercise. They were all given a relatively wide margin within which to scheme and make deals, with some enjoying more freedom than others—namely Mauve du Vain and Razmir Tezhyn . Tasks like negotiating a route through the impenetrable Blackwall, the bane of trade and travel for the Outer Rim, were perfectly suited to their wheelhouses.

“Black Sun supports many lucrative trade guilds. Some of them are even legal.” A small chuckle, then back to business. “We can certainly arrange for the supplies you need to make it through the Blackwall. And even some supplies you want. Our partners can supply both necessities and… vices. Of course, the more we know about your needs, the better Black Sun can be of service.”

He smiled, eager to sink his teeth in but careful not to reveal how truly pleased he was to be in the preliminary stages of such an arrangement with the Sith; it was the infancy of this partnership that made him cautious, after all. Everything he knew of Princess Quinn was hearsay or the desperate intel from a Vigo fearful of the branding iron. This was uncharted territory, and Velzari would not be easily seduced by the charming smile and youthful exuberance of Quinn Varanin.

Back to the discussion at hand…

“You seem to work quite well with Mauve du Vain,” Velzari remarked. “She’ll be overseeing this arrangement on my behalf. Consider her your handler, if you will. I only hope that Black Sun is not rewarded for its efforts with another Wielu.” The Underlord’s brows furrowed grimly.

“I will not be so kind a second time.”

Tags: Quinn Varanin
​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Velzari Tharn //: Mauve du Vain //:
//: Dance As They Burn //:

Her mask never cracked; Quinn stayed as regal and poised as ever while she listened. A flicker of attention lingered when he spoke of goods Black Sun could funnel into the Empire. She knew too well the starving worlds that needed not only food, but medical supplies.

This could help her people more than she had ever dreamed.

Her thoughts snagged on the last item. The Zeltron — her first contact with the Syndicate — was to be her Handler. From her understanding, Mauve would serve as both contact and representative of the Underlord, but also as a way to keep an eye on the princess.

And then there was the reminder: it had been his kindness that spared her life, and perhaps Mauve's too.

Quinn kept her composure. She would not let his words cut too deeply. She knew what had happened on Weilu, how her actions had endangered everyone and cost Black Sun the territory. In truth, this was the best possible outcome.

For once, she was thankful for the Blackwall. It had become a bargaining chip — one that may have saved her life.

"I thank you again for your kindness, Your Grace." She bowed her head respectfully to the Falleen Prince.

She mused on his mention of the Zeltron before speaking again.

"Ms. du Vain has been most helpful during my time here. She was my first contact, through her art gallery, and I would agree — we work well together."

Quietly, she reflected on how often Mauve's presence had colored her time in Black Sun territory. She stopped herself before letting her mind wander too far and continued.

"I look forward to working with her, and with you, to strengthen this alliance."

Her weight shifted subtly as she tilted her head.

"You spoke of goods Black Sun could provide. I'm curious — what are these vices you mentioned?"

 

[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​

​

Most apologies that were laid down before the Underlord were thin and full of holes. Barely worth the time spent speaking them aloud, and certainly not worth the effort it took to hear them. As he always does, Velzari searched for clues in the princess’s body language and expressions. As she spoke, he heard her words but also listened to her eyes, to the way her mouth moved as she spoke, the subtle tension in her neck and back.

It was the weight of the circumstances, not of deception, Velzari ascertained.

The Underlord smiled. He was pleased to learn that she wasn’t shy about Black Sun’s less-than-legal services.

“The list of vices we don’t offer is much shorter, my dear.” He chuckled deep and warm. “What do the Sith desire? Weapons, armor, ships? Spice? Artifacts? Slaves?” The last word was appended carefully, pronounced with a suggestive tone.

“If not contraband, perhaps, our services instead—bounty hunters, assassins, pirates, or slicers?”

A buffet of suggestions were laid before the princess, with innumerable options still unspoken.

Black Sun could rig elections, run shockboxing tournaments and podraces, or modify soldiers with cybernetics. It could make targets disappear or bring them back across the Blackwall. It could inspire an industrial revolution on a backwater planet, or crumble fortress worlds with economic collapse. It could be a blessing to the masses, or a curse.

It all depended on the machinations of the client.

Tags: Quinn Varanin
​

 

[Rin Aikawa]

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

As I was about to head out of the door, A woman stepped right in front of me. Her hand came to my person. I looked to her for a moment. She tisked about the situation and asked if I needed help. Then without warning, grabbed my shoulder and pushed me off to the side. Instead of moving into someone else, the others with her moved passed. All rushing into combat the situation. I looked around for a moment before realizing that they were part of some kind of group that was attacking the Toyardians.

This... angered me to a degree. Like some helpless little girl. They didn't just see me fight back two of them. Facing too many all at once was not what I was built for. I can handle myself but it was mostly street fights I had taken part in. Unless you count that one time at a Casino where some kind of monster showed up and I helped throw chit at it. My chest heaved a moment before I spoke back.

"Feck you and all you stand for."

I pushed back into the bank. Drawing out Petars from underneath my clothing. Their edged lit up in a glow of red plasma as I activated them. My eyes scanned to one who was trying to leave out of a side door. A hand reaching out into a fist. Held the door closed directly upon his face. He tried to get it to open again from the panel. By that time, I closed the distance. Bringing the Petar in my right hand slashing across his back. Clipping one of the wings. Cutting clean through before I used the knuckles of the left hand to to bash him into the back of the head as he went down.

I was ruthless. Icepick slamming down the blades into his body a few times before turning my head to look at another who was trying to hide. All I could think, feel, was anger for tossing me aside. I wasn't helpless. Yet here I was being treated as such. The moment you try to back up to get some distance, and possibly reengage, you are weak. Bullchit.

I yanked out with the force. Drawing myself directly to the person and flying through the air. Altering my inerta to gain momentum with very little effort. Closing the gap in a second to slam a right cross into his head. Tumbling over one another so when we stopped, I landed on top. Bringing both blades down into his chest, before one lifted and slit across his throat. Letting him die slowly.

"Feck this!"