Dominion [Black Sun] Big Trouble in Kijimi City || BSS Dominion of Kijimi

[Velzari Tharn]

B I G - T R O U B L E - I N - K I J I M I - C I T Y
A - B L A C K - S U N - S T O R Y

O B J E C T I V E - 1
T H E - Q U E E N ' S - G A M B I T​

Funeral dirges toll through the snowy peaks which surround Kijimi City. Queen Ashiga is dead. Her three daughters each seek to ascend the throne which carries much influence on this lawless world. Violence between once-united Ashiga Clan myrmites is beginning to spill out into the Thieves' Quarter and Thermal District as the hive descends into civil war. Black Sun agents have been contracted by one of the Ashiga Clan princesses to infiltrate the ancient Dai Bendu Monastery which now serves as their main stronghold and steal the Bann Pu'dira, a sacred Melitto artifact which will grant legitimacy to her claim.

Use the unrest as cover and leave no witnesses.

O B J E C T I V E - 2
R H Y D O - T I T H E​

Black Sun enforcers have been hired to take possession of a rhydonium mine as tribute for the Underlord. Only problem is the Ashiga Clan myrmites guarding it are sworn to a rival princess. Clear out the mine of any resistance, but remember: no blasters! Rhydo fumes are extremely volatile. Breath masks and hazard pay will be issued to any volunteers.

Caution: Ashiga Clan warriors are infamous for their martial arts training.

O B J E C T I V E - 3
S H O G U N​

Vigos gather in Black Sun's fortress on Nar Shaddaa to pay fealty before the Aurodium Throne. Here, they discuss Republic expansionism and how the Jedi might jeopardize the Syndicate's credit flow. Sepan 8's recent entrance into the Republic inches their borders ever closer to Black Sun territory, a dangerous threat to the syndicate's operations. Already, the Jedi Order has proven itself a formidable foe. Now is the time for radical solutions.

A new age is dawning for the criminal underworld and the galactic powers must be taught to learn some respect for who reigns over Hutt Space.

O B J E C T I V E - 4
B Y O O​

It's always snowing on Kijimi. Life clings to Mount Izukika in this wretched hive of scum and villainy. Grab a drink and relax at a local bathhouse known as the Wellspring or seek out a good deal on salvage from the markets in Kijimiko Square. Drinks and local delicacies are always on tap at the Domak Refectory. Ashiga Clan infighting has left the city even more lawless than usual, opening many avenues for keen-eyed criminals.

Explore the ancient Dai Bendu city and find a good corner to do business in.

Dominion courtesy of Hakar Scaleback​

 

[Avari II Avaricious]

Velzari Tharn

"The Underlord summons us to Nar Shaddaa for this? One of my mere creations is a cause for concern for the Black Sun Syndicate." Avari's eye twitched in annoyance at having been dragged from his ornate palace on Ruusan, sight of the infamous Galactic Kaggath tournament, to the odious city-moon of Nar Shaddaa.

The ID10 Seeker Droids assigned to his personal retinue hovered around him as they adjusted the angle of the shimmering mirrors they held, allowing him to catch his own perfect reflection even amidst the harsh glow of the Aurodium Throne. He smoothed a small dent in his armored shell, a shell woven from the tears of the Celestials or so he told himself.

The other Vigos were a collection of lesser beings whose very existence were in Avaris mind minor footnotes in the grand cosmic design he had so painstakingly crafted were all gathered here in order to discuss the High Republic's expansion and their Jedi protectors.

Such a trivial little power barely a speck in the underworld influence of the Black Sun but they had proven themselves in taking back the Relics on the hovertrain.

"I believe the matter at hand is quite easy to resolve," He scoffed in a lone tone.

"We must simply show them the perfect visage of Avari the Second, Prince of Ruusan and the entire Ruusan System, Master of Infinite Knowledge, Curator of the Stars and Shaper of the Known Universe. They will be in awe of my power and will summit to our dominion!" He waffled on as usual about himself, not bothering to stay on topic for who could deny that his power was far beyond even the most mightiest of Jedi and Sith Lords.

 

[Velis Arden]

---

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Nar Shaddaa, Hutt Space.
Tags: Avari II Avaricious

---

OBJECTIVE III.

Velis was not sat at the table itself. That was a place for the important people-- the most powerful figures within the Syndicate. Instead, at the back of the room, she stood by herself as an oddity among oddities. One look at the woman by anyone daring and stupid enough would tell you that she was an easy score. A swing of the arm-- no, perhaps merely pointing at her with a pistol-- would be enough to take whatever she had on her.

Looks could be deceiving, however.

A thick layer of smoke which hung in the air did not help Velis and her poor eyesight. It was quickly becoming worse by the day, she feared. Still she would learn how to endure this and it wasn't as if she wasn't used to such places. Narsh had been her home all her life, after all. Folding her arms across her chest, Velis diverted her attention to Avari. He was an eccentric man and boastful. Quietly she disagreed with him. The Jedi... This High Republic... They would not capitulate to his magnificence. But it would be foolish to let him know her opinion. In this life you quickly learn when and where to talk, and this was not it.

In regards to the Republic, Velis only knew this much. There was a lot of buzz surrounding the Five Veils Initiative and the reformation of a hyperlane through their quadrant of space colloquially referred to as the "Southern systems", which, of course, was an oxymoron given that there was no compass when it came to space. There was room there for expansion and setting up shop under the veil of legitimate business if the Tarsai Vigil were a good tool for measurement, and she felt that there was enough time to get in before the bureaucrats on Naboo shut up shop.

But was there something to be gained from talking to these Vigos about it? Or was it a case of pick and choose who she should work with? There was money to be made here today either way, Velis guessed. The Warden Primus would want to know the details of this meeting and Velis was fine with playing snitch if the credits paid well and the people she was telling on didn't find out...

---

 

[Malrok Duskwell]

MALROK DUSKWELL
⟁Tip the Scales⟁

The mask hissed once as the seal locked into place, feeding dry-filtered air into lungs that had long grown indifferent to discomfort. Snow clung to his cloak in chunks, then melted to darken the oiled fabric as he descended into the shaft mouth, boots thudding dully on ancient durasteel struts.

The entrance to the rhydonium mine yawned like a throat choking on soot and ghosts. Somewhere in the deep below, the Ashiga Clan still clung to their claim. Not for long.

Malrok didn’t speak. Other enforcers had already fallen behind; spooked by tales of "martial gods" or the volatile gas that could cook a man from the inside out. He welcomed the silence. Down here, he was the unnatural one.

The phlegmite shortspear in his hand spread indifference into the force directly. It had been a long time since the Anchorborn of the tower, but his affinity was no less potent. As if scenting the rot like a bloodhound, the crystalline shard at the tip of his spear emit a green-gray glow, not quite didn’t casting light as it devoured Imbalance.

If they've mystics with them, they won't feel me coming, at least.

Past a crumbling scaffold and rusted ore tracks, a trio of melitto myrmites emerged like shadows with blades drawn, cilia twitching. Their movements were honed. Patterned. But the pattern fell apart the moment they noticed him.

One stumbled. The others readied the their weapons..

"Flee."

Only one did.

Thus Malrok was upon them.
The spear cracked bone. A second warrior convulsed as the haft struck solar plexus. Malrok stepped over the body without ceremony, flashing the sharp crystalline blade into the head-like structure of their anatomy. He wasn't sure what would kill them, but that would have to serve before dipping lower into the smoke-veiled abyss.

@Open Black Sun Syndicate // Objective II: Rhydo Tithe
​

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

O B J E C T I V E - 1
T H E - Q U E E N ' S - G A M B I T​

Kinley's teeth wouldn't stop chattering. This planet was karking cold. It was her first time on the rock, and she was already sure she wouldn't be coming back, at least not willingly. She could only hope the caverns got warmer the closer they got to the boiler room.

Back during the planning phase, some bright-eyed rookie had pitched this route as a way in. Kinley had to admit, it wasn't a bad idea. Her boss didn't care how she got things done, only that she delivered results. So she hadn't bothered running it past him. His rules were simple: help Black Sun or die. And if she died doing it? Well, nobody would miss her.

It was on her to make sure that didn't happen.

Now she waited at the rendezvous point, having slipped through the chaos outside. The crowd had worked in her favor, if anyone had been tailing her, they weren't anymore. She just hoped her team got there soon.

The sooner she got off this frozen rock, the better.



Thayne Tameron @Open

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Karesh]

THE CYCLOPS OF PANATHA
"Collateral isn't a concern - it's currency."

Objective: Rhydo-Tithe
Tag: Malrok Duskwell

Karesh made his way into the cave after hearing the commotion in its depths. His occular implant switching between visions to make sure there were no surprises waiting for him. In his hands he had equipped two large battledaggers sharpened to be able to take out the resisters.

Tucked away, out of reach of others, he had his backup plan. He carried a small holdout blaster that was able to charge a shot. If things got bad enough he knew he was able to take out the whole damn mine.

On his body was light leather armor. His fabric weave armor covered by a tactical jacket with armor inlays. Karesh would be able to keep his speed up while maintaining his protection. "Time to stomp some roachies." He murmured to himself as he got deeper into the cave. Some people might have been uncomfortable without using blasters, not Karesh, he enjoyed the up close and personal kills.

 

[Jared Starchaser]

Sighing, and rolling his eyes, the Underground operative was doing what he could to keep an eye on the goings ons in the worlds between the old OPA and the Levantine Spur. He lived in both regions, and there was always something going on. But the death of a queen? That was enough to get him to show up on Kijimi. Knowing was more than half the battle he had chosen.

Sure, saber for hire, but Jared Starchaser was an agent of the Underground and a Judge of the Outer Rim. He had his lightsaber, sure, but the outside observer would mostly just see his handcannon. The one in the shoulder holster. He was not ever making a secret of being armed. Most times it kept people at bay.

And on a world like this? He could only hope that there were people who wanted the best for it. But for Jared? He wasn’t even part of the solution. He was going to listen to the powder keg, and do what he could to prevent the problems for erupting and hurting innocents.

 

[Caarlyle Rausgeber]

OBJECTIVE II

In the lee of a ridge, a group of 150 gathered, corralled into a tight formation by a group one tenth their number all armed with rifles. The motley lot stood at various degrees of attention. Some slouched due to injury or malnutrition while others maintained the facade of dignity. A defiance that the Black Sun marauders had not yet broken their spirit.

“Get your arses intah gear!” Taskmaster Talguh growled with ferocious venom. He stood before the host, pacing, “Feckless hacks the lot of youse!” The Gamorrean snarled as he inspected the ranks of the slaves before him. “You lucky buggers are gonna be the muscle, so act like it!” The slave master cracked his whip, “And youse ain’t gonna stop, till these shrarcks are all dead!” His gaze was cast upon the cohort of bonded wastrels, “Fletch you’ll, take lead.” They were attired in cheap boiler suits of a dark olive pigmentation. Cheap, chafey and of course smelling of industrial waste. That and the shock collars each man was attired with were the only uniform they held.

Nonetheless, at the behest of the Taskmaster ‘Argus Fletch’ took a stand before the assembled cohort with the same look of disdain he held all Black Sun. Even the ones bonded with him in slavery earned nothing than a glassy scowl from his bloodshot gaze. The large respirator on his face did not obscure the contemptuous scowl he held. They were a poorly group. Most stood with but their fists. The lucky had at least tools and some crude melee weapons fashioned from scrap.

“Gentlemen,” Carlyle Rausgeber’s thundering voice rasped. It was used to the confines of a command deck, or delegating commmands via the holo. This was conversely quite a strange event for Rausgeber as he withered in the snow. “Our sole advantage is surprise and number.” He laid it out straight for them, “Many of you are unarmed. Many will die. But we will break them.” He looked at the group, "But our courage. Our... Determination. We will win this day. And the next. For it is the hardest who fights who wins." His gaze and then landed on Talguh. The Gamorrean’s impertinence was plastered across his swineish features, “Masks on.” The horde began to mask themselves. The tougher, larger brutes among the slaves had already claimed the best gear. Some having salvaged it from discarded or broken stormtrooper helms. While the least lucky made do with either ad hoc and engineered devices. The least lucky were left with naught but their

“You remember the deal, filth.” Talguh snarled, “You run. You die. You fight us, you die.” The Gamorrean sneered, “You screw it and blow up the rhydo? You die. You survive blasting the rhydo? You die.” Slobber and flecks of his last meal were tossed with great force with each and every syllable, “So do us all a favour and die killin’ these Kijimi scum!” He glared over them, and gestured over the ridge.

“Charge!”

 

[Malrok Duskwell]

MALROK DUSKWELL
⟁Tip the Scales⟁

They came like an avalanche—bare fists, rusted tools, and salvaged helms clattering against the mine walls as the slave cohort charged. Their shouts echoed with desperation and smoke. Somewhere behind them, the Gamorrean Taskmaster was still bellowing threats and deals no one would live long enough to collect on.

Malrok didn’t join the chorus.
He moved along the forward edge of the push, embedded with the 'rabble'.

The air was already thick with vibration-clicks—melitto scouts barking out formations as they prepared to repel the surge. Some clung to the cave ceiling like armored bats. Others emerged in curved ranks between the collapsed ore carts and the narrowed tunnels.

Their phalanx was tight. Rhythmic. Practiced.

You've been through worse. Repelling the Cholerkin at Wibryeg you had even less armament with the mob.

Malrok struck with precise cruelty. The butt of his spear cracked a chitin covered jaw. Another blade hissed toward his spine and was parried—redirected into a slave's shoulder.

He caught the dying man before he fell.

"Still breathing. Keep him upright."
He shouted for the other slaves to advance past the wounded. He shoved the injured back into two more bodies—using motion as cover to lunge again, this time forward, spiking a melitto low through the abdomen. A hiss. He channelled the Force into the crystal, erupting the melitto from within by superheated ichor, but not a moment longer for risk of ignition of the mine.

Around him, the disorganized riot began to flow. Just slightly. Not into a proper charge—but toward something like coordination.
He wasn’t saving them. At least, not for purely the sake of it. He was leveraging them for more value.

The longer they fight, the fewer replaced. Fewer credits bled.

Another slave screamed as her weapon arm shattered under a Melitto’s blow. Malrok grabbed her by the collar, dragged her behind a rusted support beam, then launched himself back into the fray.

He fought efficiently, covered in dust and blood, but the corpses were stacking around him.

Karesh Caarlyle Rausgeber // Objective II: Rhydo Tithe​

 

[Isar]

Objective 1

A tattooed Zeltron man in plainclothes who looked more at home in a space port bar than in a holy place walked up the back steps of the temple. A temple guard started toward him.

"Temple's closed."

"Oh. Is it now? See I've just come to pay my respects to Dai Bendu. Would be a shame if I came all this way for nothin', guv."

The guard's head cocked. A clicking sound came from the sightless insect. The guard twitched slightly.

"Yes. A shame. A shame. Welcome to the temple."

The Zeltron - Isar - smiled coldly beneath his waxed mustache. "Forget I was ever here."

He waved a hand.

The guard clicked. "I'll forget you were ever here."

Isar walked through the front doors of the temple. His form rippled as he did, fading into nothing. As if he had simply evaporated from existence.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Vigos gather in Black Sun's fortress on Nar Shaddaa to pay fealty before the Aurodium Throne. Here, they discuss Republic expansionism and how the Jedi might jeopardize the Syndicate's credit flow. Sepan 8's recent entrance into the Republic inches their borders ever closer to Black Sun territory, a dangerous threat to the syndicate's operations. Already, the Jedi Order has proven itself a formidable foe. Now is the time for radical solutions.

A new age is dawning for the criminal underworld and the galactic powers must be taught to learn some respect for who reigns over Hutt Space.

"I believe the matter at hand is quite easy to resolve," He scoffed in a lone tone.

"We must simply show them the perfect visage of Avari the Second, Prince of Ruusan and the entire Ruusan System, Master of Infinite Knowledge, Curator of the Stars and Shaper of the Known Universe. They will be in awe of my power and will summit to our dominion!"

But was there something to be gained from talking to these Vigos about it? Or was it a case of pick and choose who she should work with? There was money to be made here today either way, Velis guessed. The Warden Primus would want to know the details of this meeting and Velis was fine with playing snitch if the credits paid well and the people she was telling on didn't find out...

OBJECTIVE III

"Wise words, Your Highness," said Jerec with no discernible insincerity. "Your visage and presence are powerful weapons. In truth I can imagine few examples of bait more likely to attract Alliance attention. There's just something about Jedi that makes them want to knock down any pride but their own. If there are any resources that would make your efforts-" He did not say 'easier.' "-more glorious, such things can be discussed."

Big words and smoky air made him cough out both sides of his neck.

"In the realm of lesser distractions, I've deployed a slate of formal bounties for licensed hunters - 25,000 for a Jedi Knight or Master's personal ship, 25,000 for the hand or eye of a Jedi Master, 100,000 for a Jedi Council chair, and 7,500 for Jedi surveillance. I've also made it clear that I'll pay out token sums in quantity for Jedi accessories and addenda - to licensed hunters or to whoever."

Cough, cough.

"I want to pay out that money. I want the Jedi hounded in ways that are much more feasible than bog-standard capture-or-kill."

 

[5-WCH (Switchblade)]

Edit - Moved to here

 

[Zahran Khaldun]

O B J E C T I V E - 3
S H O G U N

Zahran Khaldun arrived like he always did. Fashionably late. His ivory color command coat and matching uniform were spotless. He was flanked by two officers of noble birth and matching uniforms. He moved with a certain degree of grace and pomp as he walked up to his chair at the table. Surreal in appearance, he looked like a guilded age gentleman who just stepped out of a film of some forgotten ancient empire.

"Gentlemen, I give you His Lordship Zahran Khaldun, Scion of House Khaldun, Blood of the Chandaar Kings, Corsair Lord of Argai, Master of the Dark Crescent, Sovereign of the Outer Tributaries, and rightful bearer of the title Kara Hilal." One of the officers announced and gestured formally to Zahran.

"You may call me Lord Khaldun," the corsair said, taking a seat. His eyes quickly scanned the table at the Vigos and other individuals of note. He listened to Jerec Asyr speak of the bounties placed on the Jedi.

"Then perhaps we do more than just place bounties on their heads. Word is the Dark Empire has returned, and the Alliance already has its hands full with the Sith Empire. Imagine if we could strike deep into the Colonies or Core worlds. The spoils of said endeavor will fill are pockets for years, and help deligitimize the Jedi's so-called peace."

Velis Arden | Avari II Avaricious ​

 

[Bodan]

OBJ IV | Criminal Dealings

The Domak Refectory | Arcadian ​

The aging man sat alone at the booth.

In reality though, he was not alone. A small number of troopers were scattered within the building, surveying the area. He was not fearful of any Black Sun members in the vicinity. Quite the opposite. The Underworld was shifting constantly, and Bodan wanted to capitalize on every opportunity that presented itself. That is why he was here on this snowy, rock-covered planet.

The man sipped on a small cup of fine wine. A bottle that was at least pre-Gulag, but he was unsure how old it truly was. The taste was pleasant. He waited patiently for the Vigo to arrive.

Recently, the man had met with Sularen. where they discussed about establishing a working relationship between the Black Sun and the Imperial Confederation. The old man's former connections lied with The Exchange, another criminal organization that operated out of Wild Space. Their leader, Pyrrah Tae , was a powerful man. Yet he was wild and overambitious. The two used to be business partners, but it was time for Bodan to move on and ensure the security of the Empire by any means necessary.

Even if that meant betrayal.

 

[Nolan Nond]

O B J E C T I V E - 1
T H E - Q U E E N ' S - G A M B I T​

A relic? Sounds a bit to easy. The Princess was very convincing to him, saying how the relic was needed to lead the next generation to greatness. Personally, he was just happy to get some kind of job. Unknown to him was that competition existed, that of the Black Sun, something he was not introduced to just yet in the month he had gotten around in the area. With staffs clashing onto the streets, all he knew was to get the Bann Pu'dira and secure the potential future for the Princess. There was a small stretch with both arms as he leaned back onto a nearby wall before giving a nod, going towards the Thieves District, intending to get to the Monastery by any means necessary. With a blade coming towards him, nearly three and a half feet long, he would sidestep as the strange bladed weapon clashed into the wall and both hands of Nolan Nond grabbing onto the Chitin Helmet, ramming it directly into the wall with a hiss shriek of gas escaping as some of the fighting stopped to see what just happened as they all stared at the human.

Looking upon them, he glanced to the side and grabbed onto what appeared to be a whip for animal taming, long and braided as if it was made to push away larger creatures like Nexus. Looking back up at the group, he noticed potentially the grave error to grandstanding as blasters were pointed and people charged with blades, staffs and other undesirable weapons. This...was going to be a fight.

​

Flicking the whip to the left, he grabbed onto the nearest Ashiga Warrior and flicked harshly pull the blaster into another Warrior, breaking another helmet. A staff nearly strikes into the left side of the Human, responding with a small shoulder tackle to push down the Ashiga and slam down onto the staff with his foot to flip up, only to use his free hand to flick it down harshly to smash back into the helmet with more hissing of gas escaping. With a second flick of the whip as a blaster bolt whizzed by the side of his hair, singing the perfect black hair he had worked on before coming out into the snowy environment. Wrapping onto the arm of the Ashiga, he pulled to have the Ashiga shoulder tackle Nolan in return, stumbling back with a second pushing onto Nolan to shove into the wall.

Pulling the whip free, Nolan felt a hook smash into the side of his head and the response was to flick the whip around both of the necks and let go, raising both legs to kick them off. As the pair stumbled back, he grabbed onto a piece of durasteel pipe and with a hard kick to the blaster rifle, was going to smash it downwards as they pulled onto his outfit, smashing face first into the snow. Flipping around, he felt fists and strikes against his prone body as all he could do to focus was push the pipe between the whip that still wrapped around their necks and shove backwards. Twisting to have his feet aim at their heads, as they leaned back up, pulled harshly as he could and kicked at the same time as two cracks echoed into the snow of the Thieves Quarters. The two bodies would go limp as Nolan was panting from lack of oxygen, letting go of the whip as the back of his body laid in the snow for a brief half minute.

"What a twist..."

Feeling a bit of heat, he twisted his head to the left to see a particular grate, connected straight from the Monastery...potentially a way in? Glancing to the right and then left, he would go over and with a harsh kick, break the grate and enter through the ductwork. Hopefully he will not just fall into a room of Ashiga Guards or a pit of lava.

Tags: Kinley Pryse Isar

 

[Fenn Stag]

​

Clunk.

Clunk clunk.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

ClunkclunkclunkClunkclunkclunkClunkclunkclunkClunkclunkclunkClunkclunkclunkClunkclunkclunk.

Past the charge, past the formation that Caarlyle Rausgeber assembled-

Fenn Stag charged forward, his armor carrying him forward with momentum alone. He was faster than the forces the former Imperial assembled. More disciplined. Each step was a testament to training, the nanoseconds of expertise it took to run in armor and as fast as he did. Fenn even stormed past Karesh on his way in. He was fast, he was terrifying in his approach to most.

And the first defender he met with, he laid out against the walls of the mine with a violent, cruel lean of his shoulder into him. Crushgaunts found his neck and face. He squeezed. The defender faltered. Fenn unsheathed his Beskad and his knife, turning his head to the deeper parts of the mine. His Beskad, blackened, sharpened, and well-used, looked like an oily shadow in the low light.

The Melittos that came next were felled in such a violent, efficient manner that it was almost artistry, poetry in motion. The prowess of the Mandalorians on display. Not a word, not a declaration- a demonstration, a performance almost. Proof of purchase, in the case of the Black Suns' expense on a mercenary like Fenn.

He moved further, teeth grit as he slashed, cut, stabbed without much effort expending- quite yet.

 

[Velzari Tharn]

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

At the head of the long table, almost silhouetted against an ominous golden reservoir of superheated liquid, sat Prince Velzari. Before him was an assortment of Black Sun's Vigos, each of them representing worlds or entire sector's under the syndicate's control. They were summoned to Nar Shaddaa to address a growing area of concern: the expansion of the High Republic.

As exemplified by their recent disruptions in the Mara Corridor, the Republic was becoming increasingly problematic. A subtle approach was used on Tatooine but Arcadian with middling success, but the Republic's actions over Geonosis and on Monastery are unforgiveable. A clear message must be sent to the Chancellor, the Jedi Order, and anyone else who does not wish to get with the program.

Velzari say with steepled fingers as one Vigo after the next added their contributions. A self-important monologue from Avari II Avaricious made the Underlord roll his eyes. Jerec Asyr was more constructive with his contribution, earning an approving nod. Zahran Khaldun built on the Ithorian's notion, but both of them were slightly off-mark. The Falleen clicked his tongue with modest disapproval.

"The Galactic Alliance is a fine target - bloated, sluggish, distracted. But they are not an immediate threat. It is the High Republic who must be taught a lesson. They do not fear us because we have not shown them the true power of the Black Sun. They believe that a phrik mine and a train hub are the deepest our tendrils reach."

In the center of the table, a metallic disk flickered to life. It produced a holoprojection of a Mid Rim world called Sepan 8.

"This fragile world has pledged itself to the Republic, despite its... political vulnerabilities. Civil war is a deeply entrenched solution to the Sepani's distaste for unfavorable governance. To our benefit, they find their current predicate quite distasteful. It would be a trivial task for Black Sun's agents to infiltrate the Dimok government that holds dominion over Sepan 8 and fan the flames of discord that threaten Republic control."

Tags: Avari II Avaricious | Jerec Asyr | Velis Arden | Zahran Khaldun
​

 

[Avari II Avaricious]

Velzari Tharn Velis Arden

He hardly took note of Jerec Asyr 's other remarks, aside from recognizing his undeniable power and the allure of his very essence. Naturally, his presence served as a formidable weapon, crafted intentionally for that purpose.

"Vigo Jerec is onto something, bounty hunters are the most practical enforcers of the Criminal Underworld and will do anything for a measly credit. We should expand our sponsorship to other freelance agents beyond the typical Bounty Hunter's Guild in order to get a greater return on our investment." He said knowing that freelancers were just as skilled as regular bounty hunters if not more so. The larger the pool of candidates the more chances of success at least in his mind.

Lord Zahran Khaldun 's late arrival was a dull splash of mediocrity in Avari's flawlessly orchestrated world, as they proposed that the Black Sun Syndicate target the Galactic Alliance. This was exactly the kind of clumsy, blunt-force approach that proved the others were nothing more than tools, not true architects of reality like himself.

It did not take long for Underlord Velzari Tharn to bring the conversation back into focus and onto the High Republic. The mention of "Sepan 8" and "fanning the flames of discord" caught Avari's attention only slightly more than the others.

A faint, superior smile played on Avari's lips. "Naturally," he stated, his voice a low, confident hum, primarily directed at his own reflection in the nearest droid's mirror.

"A trivial task indeed. After all, the very concept of discord was born from the subtle imperfections I wove into the fabric of the universe. To merely fan a flame that I created? Though there is the matter of the Jedi Order to solve in the meantime. They are the glue that holds the Republic together and they surely can figure out our scheme by the simple power of observation."

He performed a subtle, gentle motion with his hand, almost as if he were posing a significant question regarding the Jedi Order, who stood as the primary barrier to the Black Sun Syndicate in executing this plan.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"This fragile world has pledged itself to the Republic, despite its... political vulnerabilities. Civil war is a deeply entrenched solution to the Sepani's distaste for unfavorable governance. To our benefit, they find their current predicate quite distasteful. It would be a trivial task for Black Sun's agents to infiltrate the Dimok government that holds dominion over Sepan 8 and fan the flames of discord that threaten Republic control."

"I've done good business in the Sepan system," Jerec commented. "TIE parts and gun running, mostly. Sepan 8 is a domino ready to fall. Some context for the room."

His fingers twitched and the holo map zoomed out to the system view.

"Sepan 8 is a minor planet in a system with a few other marginally habitable planets and moons. But there are two main, habitable Sepan worlds in that system, and their people - the Ripoblus and the Dimoks - have gone to war many times. Sepan 8 has both. It's tense. What happens there can draw two worlds with real tech bases into war very easily. Even better, if you're the High Republic, big believers in peace and order and consensus, the Sepan system proves none of it fits the real universe.

"And Jedi...someone's always got to be in the right to them. Which means it's not much work at all to get them to take sides in an on-again off-again thousand-year-old civil war without realizing what they're doing or just how bad it could be."

Velzari Tharn Avari II Avaricious Zahran Khaldun Velis Arden

 

[Arcadian]

Location: Kijimi
Tags: Bodan
Objective IV: BYOO
Post Theme: "This Cantina Can't Hold Us"

Stepping into the warmth of the Domak Refectory was enough to vaporize the ice crystals that had encased Arcadian's pauldrons, but the chill in his bones would need much more time to thaw. Were he here on personal business with private lodgings, he'd have indulged in fire water and hot soup, but there was no time for a tasting tour of Kijimi's delicacies. Tonight, he was to meet with Bodan , a crime lord who by all accounts had worked with The Exchange until recently. It seemed that planets were not the only things shifting in the galaxy; positions, markets, and allegiances were likewise tempted to shuffle.

Through his droplet-streaked visor, Cade scanned the Domak's crowd. They were motley, but there was charm. In the far corner, an Aqualish dealt a fresh hand in a game of sabacc that sounded like it was getting increasingly tense with every round; the jukebox sputtered after a Sullustan dockworker slipped in a Republic credit chit, which was too large for the machine's slot; drinks slid down the counter, adding the sharp sound of glassware scraping against the countertop to the cacophony of cantina noise that permeated the space.

It was practically paradise.

Nearby, Arcadian spotted his contact. Bodan sat alone, as instructed, though Cade was wise enough to know that influential figures in the galactic underworld were never truly as "alone" as they appeared. The Ubese himself was covered by two Black Sun agents who'd come to the Refectory hours ago to stake their claims within.

"You are Bodan," the helmeted alien said matter-of-factly as he approached Bodan's table. "I am Arcadian."

The Ubese drew in a labored breath, his respirator rasping as it always does. Cade's position in the syndicate more than enabled him to purchase upgrades to his vital life support apparatuses, but he'd grown accustomed to the menacing sounds his chemical-burned trachea made when it struggled to suck in air. It was a haunting sound to hear, and a Black Sun Vigo was nothing if not intimidating.

He pulled a chair back and lowered himself down, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on the incumbent crime lord.

"There is much to discuss, Master Bodan," Cade said. "You are an interesting man. Many assets. Great value. Tell me, what do you seek from my organization?"

He paused, only for a beat. "What do you seek from Black Sun?"