Private [Black Sun] Duplicity

[Velzari Tharn]

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

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The coolness of Dargulli was refreshing compared to the smoggy hotbox that was Nar Shaddaa. Dargulli was what they called a "midnight" world, one shrouded in eternal twilight. It made for excellent moody nights, especially ones where galas were involved.

Truth be told these political soirées were not the sort of gatherings that Velzari preferred. So many pompous politicians who believed themselves untouchable. If only they knew the true meaning of "diplomatic immunity." But alas, if it were that easy, there would be no need for the Underworld and its syndicates. No need for the Underlord, or Black Sun. Wearing them down was part of the fun, and Velzari intended to have a wonderful evening.

He moved with quiet precision through the gathered guests, eyes fixed ahead as he moved. He did not slow to acknowledge anyone else, even waiters who offered drinks and hors d'oeuvres. The Underlord was on a mission of sorts, to locate a pair of senators who may yet prove invaluable to Black Sun's operations in the Mid Rim. Twins, Arcann and Thexann Pehnatur. Each of them were senators, one on either side of the proverbial line in terms of political boundaries. One represented Atzerri in the Republic, the other Belazura in the Alliance.

With luck, both of them would be working on Black Sun's dime by the end of the evening.

Tags: Arcann Pehnataur | Thexann Pehnataur
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[Arcann Pehnataur]

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The air here was different—cleaner, in a way that made Arcann feel more exposed than comforted. Dargulli’s eternal twilight suited him. It masked too much, yet revealed just enough for a keen eye.
He noticed the Falleen long before the man crossed the room. A creature of grace and intent. No wasted movement. No mingling. Not even a drink taken. This one was hunting.

Arcann’s jaw clenched ever so slightly behind the glass he hadn’t yet sipped from.

Not military. Not government. Not stupid either.

His artificial hand flexed once at his side—a quiet readiness.

As the Falleen approached, Arcann stepped forward half a pace, putting himself slightly ahead of his twin. It was an old habit. One he never lost. His voice was smooth and unwelcoming.

“You’ve been watching us for six minutes and forty-two seconds. You’ve finally decided to introduce yourself. I’m curious what made now the right moment.”

A pause. A subtle shift in the weight of his stance.

“If you're selling something, you’ll need a better pitch. If you're fishing, you’ll find the water cold.”

He met the Falleen’s eyes—measured, unreadable, but full of quiet heat.

“So. Shall we skip the opening lie, or would you prefer to rehearse it first?”

 

[Thexann Pehnataur]

As Arcann shifted forward, Thexann didn’t stop him.

He never did.

Instead, he casually reached for a fluted glass of violet wine from a passing tray, letting Arcann do what Arcann did best—intimidate first, ask later. The Falleen’s approach hadn’t escaped his notice, of course. Thexann had clocked the predator’s gait, the way his eyes brushed past servants like they were furniture. Calculated. Efficient. Dangerous.

But in a place like Dargulli, danger wore cologne.

Thexann took a slow sip of the wine, watching the interaction unfold with the practiced calm of someone who’d survived politics longer than most wars.

“Don’t mind my brother. He sees threats where I see opportunities.”

He offered the Falleen a polite smile, all elegance and hidden teeth.

“You’ve come a long way to find us, clearly. Either you’re very ambitious… or very certain we’ll listen.”

Another sip. The wine was better than expected. He let that linger on his expression.

“So which is it? You’ve found the wrong company, or you’re hoping we’re the right kind of wrong?”

Then, to Arcann—without looking at him:

“If he lies, we’ll know. And if he doesn't, we might just enjoy ourselves.”

 

[Velzari Tharn]

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

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"I have committed many crimes in my life," Velzari lead in a velvety voice. "But lying is not one of them. Lying is a crime against oneself, and I am rather fond of me." The Underlord smiled with a loaded grin that either spelled great opportunity, or incredible danger. Only time would tell which one was meant for the brothers.

Velzari extended a hand to Arcann first, the to Thexann. "I hope that you shall soon become fond of me, too. I am Prince Velzari Tharn, of Falleen," he said, introducing himself and conveniently omitting the title of Underlord. Velzari glanced around the room, but he was not nervous. On the contrary, he possessed as certain reptilian couth that might come off as unsettlingly focused to those unfamiliar with Falleen and other similar species.

"Perhaps there is someplace more... private, where we can speak - where I can ascertain whether you are, in fact, the right company after all." Preferably, the meeting area would have an exterior balcony. Velzari enjoyed the smoky Dargullian sky, how the stars pierced though, dimmed though they may be. Perhaps a view as inspiring as that would help coax the senators into the deal of a lifetime.

Tags: Arcann Pehnataur | Thexann Pehnataur
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[Arcann Pehnataur]

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Arcann didn’t take the hand.
Not immediately.

His gaze lingered on Velzari’s face like a blade sliding across armor, testing for weak points behind the charm. The grin. The wording. The scent of self-assurance. It all set off quiet alarms—not blaring, not yet—but unmistakable in tone.

The name Velzari Tharn was unfamiliar, but Arcann had learned long ago that the most dangerous beings rarely used their full titles up front.

Finally, he accepted the handshake—barely. A brief, vice-like grip from his prosthetic hand. Cold durasteel and callused pragmatism.

Fondness takes time, Prince.

He said it like the title was a formality, not an invitation.

But I believe we can spare you a few minutes. As long as you understand that privacy is a courtesy… not a shield.

Then he turned to Thexann without another word, nodding once. An old signal. Your game. For now.

 

[Thexann Pehnataur]

Thexann took the offered hand with considerably more ease, clasping it in both of his like a practiced diplomat greeting a fellow noble—acknowledging the gesture, but also anchoring it in his own control of the conversation.

“Then we’re already alike, Prince Tharn. I’m rather fond of me too.”

He gave a slight, amused chuckle as he released the hand.

“Let’s find a place with a view. Something to match the scale of whatever it is you’re about to propose.”

He gestured fluidly toward a side hallway lit by soft blue lamps—not toward one of their usual negotiation lounges, but somewhere adjacent to an exterior terrace high above the city floor. The stars above were faint but distinct. The air smelled like metal, silk, and rain about to fall.

As they began to walk, Thexann spoke over his shoulder—half toward Velzari, half toward Arcann.

“Just so we’re clear, Prince… the last person who tried to surprise us also led with charm and compliments.”

A beat.

“His ship is still in orbit. His career, however… isn’t.”

 

[Velzari Tharn]

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

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An eyebrow slightly raised at the not-so-thinly veiled threat, but Velzari chose not to counter with hostilities. Not yet, at least. A little fire never killed him. In fact, it was usually a good sign when recruiting new blood to the syndicate.

"The shield isn't for me, Senator," he said in an oily tone thick with intentions that were equally viscous. The Prince followed them to a private chamber off the main floor where, thankfully, they had a wonderful view of Dargulli's capital city. Even the lights in other buildings were dim, suppressed behind tinted windows. It was a curious design choice, but one Velzari found few flaws in. His own palatial residence on Falleen made use of one-way tinting that kept prying eyes from peering in while allowing him to enjoy the view from within his domain.

"Most in the Republic and Alliance would frown upon those who enjoy business relations with Black Sun."

He moved his hands behind his back, clasping them together as he stood. He would not sit, even if the two senators chose to; he did his best work upright, where the strain of gravity would help to keep his mind steady.

"Do you share that sentiment?" he asked curiously. Velzary wanted to cut through the charade just as badly as the Pehnataur's did. It would be an egregious waste of time if neither of them were willing to take a bribe or two.

Tags: Arcann Pehnataur | Thexann Pehnataur
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[Thexann Pehnataur]

Thexann did not sit.

He turned slightly toward the cityscape, wine glass still in hand, as though considering the stars. The reflection of Velzari danced in the transparisteel, framed by cold light and smug intent.

“Frown?” he echoed lightly, the word floating on a silk-soft chuckle.
“My dear Prince, some in the Alliance and Republic frown at fine art if it costs more than their salary.”

He finally looked back, his eyes narrowing just a touch—not in offense, but amusement. Like a man watching a sabacc bluff play out two hands early.

“Black Sun, Crimson Dawn, Exchange, Crimson Nova—names change. Faces come and go. What matters is stability. Order. Predictability.”

He stepped closer, letting his words tighten the noose.

“Now, anyone who threatens those things… they tend to become very unpopular. Even among their business partners.”

Another sip. Smooth. Finishing:

“So no, Prince. We don’t frown.”

His eyes glinted.

“We calculate risk.”

 

[Arcann Pehnataur]

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Arcann stepped beside his brother, arms crossed, cloak falling behind him like shadow and steel. His voice was low—colder than Dargulli’s winds, and meant to be felt. “You’re asking the wrong question.”

He let that hang.

Then— “You should be asking yourself: if you disappeared from this balcony… would anyone hear about it before the lights in your palace went out?”

There was no aggression in his tone. Just calm clarity. Like someone describing the weather.

Then, almost as an afterthought:

“That’s how we view sentiment.”

 

[Velzari Tharn]

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

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An evil grin spread across Velzari's face, full of whitened teeth that contrasted eerily against his green skin.

"That, Senator Pehnataur, sounded like a threat. I'm rarely wrong when it comes to perceiving such transgressions, but I am not immune to lapses in judgement; for your benefit, and the benefit of those you love, I will consider this one of those rare mistakes on my part. But let me make myself clear," he warned, leaning in close enough that Arcann could feel the Underlord's breath on his face.

"If you threaten me again, your entire family will be mining ore on Makeb for the Empire while you watch from a cage."

He stepped by the man, brushing his padded shoulder against Arcann as he moved toward a large chair. Velzari eased himself into it as if he owned it. From his perch, he eyed both men carefully before breaking the silence with a velvety offer. "Black Sun has many uses for senators, but only the ones who play by the rules. I'll forgive you, since you do not know them yet, but allow me to enlighten you on the most important rule of them all: don't fuck with Black Sun."

In their periphery, Arcann and Thexann would notice the long drapes on either side of the open balcony doors shift as shadowy agents stepped out from behind each one. They were clearly armed, but neither made any visible moves for their weapons. Velzari softened his smile then, satisfied that a point was made. It was now time to make another.

"If you'd like to make a deal with my... organization," he said, "I welcome you to join me properly - and put an end to these antics. If you wish to keep your noses clean and your bank accounts devoid of syndicate credits, then by all means, leave my presence." He nodded suggestively to the door on the far side of the room. Any loss came with a sting, but the Pehnatuars were not the only senators in the Republic or Alliance. There would be others who would find Black Sun's partnership irresistible. Why not go for them first, the ones who are eager to have their corruption payrolled?

Prince Velzari liked a challenge.

Tags: Arcann Pehnataur | Thexann Pehnataur
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[Thexann Pehnataur]

Thexann turned slightly toward the balcony doors. He saw the shifting drapes. Noted the foot placement. The posture. The silence. Professionals, clearly. But the kind that only ever acted after their master gave the word.

He turned back to Velzari with a smile that mirrored the Underlord’s own—elegant, dangerous, and utterly unimpressed.

“Oh, I see now. You’re still performing.”

He moved toward the chair opposite Velzari, but didn’t sit. Instead, he rested both hands on the back of it—like a man choosing not to take a throne that could be his at any moment.

“You mistake posture for leverage. Threats for rules. And fear for respect.”

A beat. A smile sharper than glass.

“Where I come from, the ones who have power never have to say lines like ‘don’t fuck with me.’ Everyone just knows.”

He let the words hang for half a breath before stepping back toward Arcann.

“But I suppose you’re still building your legend. How exciting for you.”

 

[Arcann Pehnataur]

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Arcann didn’t step back when Velzari leaned in.
Didn’t flinch when his breath touched his skin.

Didn’t move when the drapes revealed the agents.

He just stood there, utterly still. Like a durasteel wall carved in the shape of a man. One twitch from those assassins would have been a mistake they’d never repeat. When Velzari sat down, made his offer, and smugly laid out their “options,” Arcann finally spoke—his voice low, level, and so quiet it made the words worse.

“Firstly, I know of several highly effective mouthwashes that would serve you well. Now, to my point, you're mistaking restraint for weakness.”

He took one slow step forward, just enough to steal back space—not in aggression, but equilibrium.

“If we were afraid of you… you wouldn’t still be speaking.”

Then he turned slightly, making a show of surveying the view beyond the balcony doors.

“But we are listening. So speak. While that luxury lasts.”

Before anything else could be said, they strolled out. No moves at the Prince, or the agents, simply leaving on their own terms...

They didn't even bother notifying security who was here.