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Dominion [Black Sun] Here Comes the Sun || BSS Dominion of Chroma Zed


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BLACK SUN SYNDICATE
HERE COMES THE SUN


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Far from the hyperspace lanes and well outside the polite fiction of galactic law, Chroma Zed squats in the Mid Rim like a jeweled blade half-buried in the mud. To outsiders it is a forgotten world remembered for being xenophobic, insular, and weighed down by old Imperial chains. A place spoken of in dismissive footnotes and outdated star charts. But to those with the right instincts, it is opportunity manifest. Chroma Zed is a world where influence can be bought, traded, or earned in ways that cleaner worlds would never allow. Black Sun has arrived not as conquerors, but as guests bearing gifts and entertainment. It offers distraction, prosperity, and just enough wonder to make old resentments feel negotiable.

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OBJECTIVE 1:
DON'T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME


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Though comparatively ugly themselves, the worm-like Chromans placed great value on the natural beauty of their homeworld. Elaborate cliffside amphitheaters dot Chroma Zed’s surface, affording spectators breathtaking views of the planet’s impressive landscapes. Grand vistas of rolling forests, freshwater rivers, cascading waterfalls, and petroleum hot springs stretch outward as far as the eye can see.

The only thing that could make such an awe-inspiring view better is the gleaming spatter of fresh blood on the pavement.

Black Sun’s cadre of Vigos, informants, and corrupt benefactors cheer as a pair of alien brutes throw punches. It is the perfect backdrop for a new Vigo’s ascension to power. Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter has proven herself to be a valuable asset to the Underlord, and as such, a feast shall accompany the violent show. A bottle of champagne pops somewhere in the crowd and glasses soon make their way to thirsty patrons. Local Chroman delicacies are offered from aurodium platters. The aroma of herbs and spice mixes with the cold snap of the mountain air.

It is a good day to be a friend of Black Sun.

[OOC: Meet with Black Sun’s elite to celebrate, scheme, and plot while enjoying a brutal bout of fisticuffs—or participate in the fight yourself!]

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OBJECTIVE 2:
NEW YEAR, NEW ME


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Though the syndicate’s kinder faces have put in a good word with the natives, the Chromans are still a xenophobic species who distrust outsiders. Their fears trace back to the days of Palpatine’s Empire, a time when they were enslaved and tortured by their occupiers. They were forced to extract raw materials from the walls of their beloved cave dwellings to feed the Imperial war machine. The proximity of Chroma Zed to not one, not two, but three Empires is making them sweat—but this is a fulcrum for clever Black Sun agents.

Deep underground, a deal is being made.

The Chromans have agreed that the Imperials are a common enemy shared with the syndicate, but they require more than a few good words from Black Sun before they consider a partnership. Ximm Xobar, a chief of the Chroman’s political class, has given an achievable task for Black Sun to complete: clearing a nest of vicious predators from the old Imperial mines.

[OOC: Reach the mines through the Chroman’s cave network, slice into the Imperial bulkhead, and undergo a PVE beast hunt operation!]

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OBJECTIVE 3:
BYOO


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Chroma Zed is an idyllic world largely unspoiled by corporate greed. Since the collapse of Darth Krayt’s Empire in 138 ABY, the Chromans have enjoyed a secluded existence in the Mid Rim. Their historical membership in the Diversity Alliace—a radical alien supremacist organization—has aided in isolating the planet from broader galactic interests. This fact, paired with the world’s largely uncharted wilderness, makes it a perfect playground for Black Sun and its allies.

Dense, temperate forests cover most of the planet’s explored landscape. Alabaster mountain ranges rise high above the rolling woodlands, crisscrossed by river rapids and breathtaking waterfalls. In the rocky hills, petroleum springs bubble and steam amid the cool mountain air.

With so much land and so little oversight, there’s endless opportunity for an adventurous criminal.

Set up a new dead drop in the mountains. Fly in a prefab safe house for a future retreat. Find the perfect cavern to stash your ship and hide treasure. Arm wrestle a Chroman into submission and steal his rocks.

It’s a new year, baby.

 

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BLACK SUN SYNDICATE
DON’T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME


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The fleshy crunch of the combatant’s nose would make most people squirm, but Prince Velzari chuckled like a nobleman watching a tragic comedy. In fact, not only was he highly amused, he was famished; such spectacles often gave the Underlord an appetite.

He sank his teeth into a spiced mynock wing, tearing the succulent meat away with surprising poise. For a parasitic creature found on asteroids or inside exogorths, it was incredibly delicious. Velzari washed it down with his favorite alcohol, Emberlene Reserve, before turning to eye his newest Vigo.

I hope you find the amenities to your liking, Miss deWinter,” he said with a smile. Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter had made quite a splash in the Underworld, one that Prince Velzari couldn’t ignore if he tried. His agents had done their legwork, trading credits, goods, and secrets to learn as much about the woman as possible.

To put it simply, the Underlord was impressed.

Offering her a seat on his Shadow Council as a Vigo was an easy decision to make. She had proven herself, held her own, and now it was time to celebrate.

I’m curious to know what your plans are now,” he continued. “What schemes can we anticipate from the great Scherezade deWinter? Or… would you prefer to surprise us?


Tags: Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter | OPEN
 
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Levi Dorne Levi Dorne + OPEN
"Listen, I've got one more job to do. Then I'll get Grizla his money. I just need a little more time," Jacen insisted, hands slightly raised in half-surrender. Seated at a booth in a local dive, the self-proclaimed Pirate Prince had been indulging in wine and women. That is, until a thuggish Bardottan showed up and brandished a blaster at him. The girls had fled, the juma juice spilled, and Jacen was about to pay the piper.

"Grizla won't wait any longer!" the Bardottan sputtered in his alien dialect. "In fact, he told me to blast you to bits as soon as I saw you. But perhaps if you give me the money, he'll reconsider."

Jacen heaved a sigh. "I don't have it with me right now. Tell Grizla—"

"Forget it!" The Bardottan sneered. "I'll bring your head to Grizla, changeling!"

Jacen wasn't totally sure, but he had a hunch that this reptile was about two seconds away from shooting him. He also had managed to maneuver his blaster from its holster underneath the table, but he hesitated to pull the trigger. Grizla the Hutt likely won't be happy if I kill his messenger... His eyes darted around the bar, hoping for a distraction, an exploitanything that might save him from getting in even hotter water with the crime lord...
 
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Objective: DON’T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME
Tags: Velzari Tharn Velzari Tharn , Open

Sithspit, this was a planet of rare beauty. Scherezade had her nose pressed against her ship's windows while they broke atmo, looking at all the water and the green. It looked almost like her ancestral home, a planet she had not stepped on since she'd been a year old. And usually, she didn't notice much about planets, but something about this one made her heart thud in that bittersweet way it rarely did.

It wasn't long after that she was surrounded by… Friends? Allies? Vigos. Chosen teammates. Her choice, after scouring the galaxy since her return to it, checking things out in various corners of the 'verse, and deciding that these guys were where she felt like she belonged. She hadn't expected to be catapulted anywhere that mattered, that part had come as a complete surprise to the Sithling who'd had to fight and bleed for every tiny privilege life agreed to give her. So as far as she was concerned? This was both incredibly flattering, and… weird. But a good kind of weird! The kind where her mind realized she wasn't going to do illegal scut work anymore just to say hi, I like you.

And just like that, it was done. She was now a Vigo. Recognized. All official.

The smile she offered Velzari Tharn Velzari Tharn was big, warm, and above all, genuine.

Still smiling, she picked up a pair of wings and placed them gingerly in her mouth, her lips closing around all but the very edge that she still held with the tips of her fingers. A moment later she pulled them out, pale bones glistening in the dim light, the meat and skin removed from them with near medical precision.

Velzari Tharn wanted to know about her plans.

Glowing green eyes widened for the briefest of moments and she picked up another pair of wings, eating them just as she had done the previous ones while her mind rummaged around. Planning was a big word. Scherezade very often lived in the moment, having just a general idea of an end goal while everything else was pretty much decided on the spot. But she did have a few… Things, she wanted.

"I think I'd rather surprise you," she half purred before taking the third pair of wings, "Opportunities are made and unmade so quickly these days. Perhaps I should see if I can produce enough glitter to cover all of Coruscant, including the lower levels. Go shiny pink instead of rusty red. Liven the city up and all of that."

The suggestion had been made in jest, though there were a few scrolls on her ship on which scribbles tried to determine how many tonnes of glitter she'd actually she need if she wanted to go for it. The math wasn't done mathing though, so she had no official answer as of yet.

Another competitor in the ring got punched hard enough for various body fluids to exit his face and make their way towards their table. Scherezade motioned with her hand, the glob of spit and blood doing a hard U-turn mid-air to go back into the ring. Not a lot of things disgusted her, but there were places where bodily fluids had no place. Like on her plate. Eww.

Her gaze returned to Velzari. "If you expect me to announce myself before I act," she eventually decided on answering, pleasantly, her tone a sing-song, "you will be disappointed. I prefer results to words. But I don't think you've brought me here for what I might say. You brought me here for what will eventually happen."

He preferred expensive alcohol. Her glass, though, was just filled with a pink thick cream, void of any booze. She lifted her glass in a small, precise salute, sharper than the one he had previously seen from her, and she grinned.

"When it does," she her smile turning feline, "you'll know."
 


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




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Being an assassin was a niche job for a niche person.

And often times, more boring than not. This was not one of those times. He had been assigned a good task, an important one. There was a particularly unruly individual, who knew another, so on and so forth. The bottom line was that the Black Sun wanted someone dead to secure a deal, cooperation. Family rivalries, or something to that effect. Ultimately it didn't particularly matter to Torn.

However, getting to the target, did. Chroma Zed was a lushful, beautiful planet, but trekking it was not a fun time. Clad in fatigues and his face painted, Torn was currently scaling a cliff with a shattergun in a fabric wrap on his back. Shatterguns, while useful, were incredibly delicate systems. The lightest knock could throw off the weapon. The Verpine were brittle, weak creatures, and their machinery and weapons reflected that. Fast, lethal, and sharp- but not particularly tough. But this needed to have no fingerprints on it whatsoever.

And a shattergun was the perfect way to deny any culpability. It helped that the actual members of the Black Sun were on the other side of the planet. Torn pulled himself over the lip of the rock wall- and checked his map. Paper, no tracking tools here. Couldn't risk setting off any alarms or jammers. Would be an embarrassing way to start his tenure as the Black Sun's go-to "kill that guy" guy.

However, when he looked up, he heard it.

Feet, scuffing a rock. Boots. Plasteel, if he had to guess, by the sound. The side of a boot scraping against a rock. Then, stopping. Torn was not the only hunter here. He turned his head slowly, crouching low into a nearby bush. He was over top a waterfall, and didn't want to assume. Could've been a hiker. Could've been the Black Sun sending backup. Or, worse, a rival. Or, even worse- someone hunting him.

For now, he'd remain quiet.
 
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Isur

Are you a bad fish too?
Cartel politics were not a thing for Isur. The Karkarodon was not the type who had dreams of power. Glory, yes. Treasure, absolutely. Hot crab alien women, definitely. He would enjoy fighting ti the end. Or retiring some day to one of the ocean worlds. But today?

Today was not that day.

Delphos, his captain, had goals of that and landed the Hunter to attend some meeting with the higher ups. And he even gave his crew shore leave.

Now there were places to spend credits. But even a day of that was all Isur needed. When he heard of a hunt? That woke him up. The shark had made his way through the rocks to an aquatic entrance to the caves. Rewards were awaiting him for clearing out the beasts.

That was something he could do.
 
Objective 1: DON'T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME

The Red Dagger dropped out of hyperspace with a subtle shudder, its patched hull catching the reflected glow of Chroma Zed below - a verdant jewel in the Mid Rim's forgotten corner. From orbit, the planet looked almost peaceful: sweeping forests, mist-shrouded mountains, rivers carving silver threads through valleys dotted with cascading waterfalls and steaming hot springs. A far cry from the rust-choked chaos of Mek-Sha or the neon poison of Nar Shaddaa.

Vashra felt she belonged here. Sure, as much as fatty food stains belonged on a king's robe.

But Vashra was here for a reason and a good one. She'd heard the chatter on the underworld channels - Black Sun throwing a spectacle on Chroma Zed to celebrate their latest Vigo ascension. Scherezade deWinter, they said. A name that carried weight: valuable asset to the Underlord, rising fast. Perfect timing. Mek-Sha was fracturing, its gangs and crews ripe for a stronger hand. Vashra intended to be that hand.

She was young but so what? At nineteen, she had already learned that hesitation got you killed - or worse, enslaved and she had the body count to prove that she was Black Sun material.

Smuggling routes for the new narcotics boom, control of those priceless independent refineries. Credits would flow like fuel from a ruptured line in Mek-Sha.

But words alone wouldn't sway Vigos and their cadres. The movers and shakers of the syndicate had to notice her. A young girl with big ambitions needed connections as much as a sharp blade.

So far her reputation carried just enough weight to earn her a docking space at the cliffside amphitheater's private pad

Vashra stepped out into the crisp mountain air, laced with herbs, spice, and the metallic tang of impending blood. The venue was a masterpiece - ancient Chroman architecture carved into the rock, open to a breathtaking panorama of rolling forests and distant waterfalls. Aurodium platters circulated with local delicacies; champagne fizzed in crystal flutes held by worm-like Chroman servants and offworld enforcers alike.In the central pit, two massive alien brutes circled each other, fists wrapped, crowd roaring as the first punches landed. Black Sun elites lined the tiers: Vigos in tailored shadows, informants whispering schemes, corrupt benefactors toasting the violence. Cheers rose with every splatter of blood on the stone pavement.Vashra's lips curved into that sharp smile - charming to some, chilling to those who knew better.

The stage was set, the audience was here. Time to make an unforgettable entrance

Velzari Tharn Velzari Tharn Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter and OPEN (to all Black Sun heavyweights who still deal with the scum :) )
 

Levi shot first. There was a flash of red light from behind the Bardottan, then with a final strange death rattle, he slumped over the table. A familiar mauve devaronian stood in his place, brandishing the smoking blaster.

"Thought you'd be quicker on the draw, Nimdok." Levi bared a grin, "That fellow was a hair away from blasting you. What's the deal there?" Normally the pirate captain preferred to weasel his way out of a tense encounter, but he wasn't afraid to make the first move if it was his only chance at survival. And for all his faults, you couldn't say Levi wasn't loyal to old crewmates.
 

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HERE COMES THE SON
Wayward Son - Chapter 1
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TAG: Open

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TRAVIESO

CHROMA ZED

Nothing had prepared Kesh Hevro for what comes after the Kaggath. He joined the tournament as the champion of the Confederacy, and despite his valiant effort, he couldn’t manage to beat Kyric Kyric . But that’s not even the worst part. He expected disappointment from his peers, but they didn’t even have the time to be disappointed. What awaited back in Rothana was a crumbling Confederacy, stripped down of its honor and pride, forced to capitulate power to the High Republic.

The following exile period was hell. Trained to be the Confederacy finest organic phalanx, the Helions has been reduced to glorified drill sergeants for the Republic's Armed Forces. Caged by the Republic's military code, regulations, and fat bureaucracy, they have struggled securing contracts that wouldn't breach their pre-existing agreement that has been absorbed by the Republic.

Morale in the camp is low. For some, lack of contract means no commission and thinning rations. For few like Kesh Hevro, it means boredom and peace-fatigue. The Pyke Prince diverted his energy to manage his family's diversified businesses outside of the Kessel Run, where he foresaw familiar turmoil. Where the Republic engulfed the Confederacy, he saw the increasing influence of The Black Sun creeping towards Kessel Run. Combined with his thirst for action, it all brings him to Chroma Zed.

With so many agenda stacked on his back. Officially, he’s a fighter looking to break some backs for cash. Professionally, he’s a mercenary with a direct tie to the remaining Confederacy loyalists; assembled as the Separatist Council. Dynastically, he’s realistically the only person who can lead The Pyke Syndicate to survive this tumultuous era. It all will be taken care of, when the time comes. The blood of the Spice Gods flow in his veins after all.

Focusing on the task on hand, he entered the arena as a challenger. Determined, blood thirsty, ever so captivating, the Pyke moves faster than anyone his size has the right to. What was sluggish brawl and heavy fistfights are replaced by flying knees, superkicks, and body stretches. In no time, Kesh dismantled the champion. His sight is on any upcoming challenger who dares to share the arena with him, but his eyes is locked on the Falleen Prince, Velzari Tharn Velzari Tharn . An introduction has to be made, sooner or later, however bloodied his limbs are.

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BANG!

"Rauwwrr!" the Bardottan cried out in pain before slumping forward, dead. Jacen's head whipped in the direction of the shooter, his expression bewildered. He raised his pistol up from underneath the table, ready to fire back, when he recognized the face of the old Devaronian.

"Oh, it's you," he said, smiling with relief. "Thanks for the save." Now he wouldn't have to take the blame for shooting the messenger.

"Thought you'd be quicker on the draw, Nimdok. That fellow was a hair away from blasting you. What's the deal there?"

"Eh, I owe a Hutt some money and he sent this... individual to collect. A bit premature to resort to thuggery, in my opinion, but that's the Hutts for you." He waved a hand dismissively, as if the whole matter was just water under the proverbial bridge. In reality, he didn't want Levi to know the embarrassing truth. "How have you been, you old pirate? What brings you to Chroma Zed?"
 

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BLACK SUN SYNDICATE
DON’T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME


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I’ll know at least two steps before you play your hand,” Velzari teased. “The glitter draws attention.

His head tilted back as he laughed, amused by his own words. The ponytail he wore moved like a black serpent trailing down the exposed ridges of his spine. A passing bowl of exotic fruit caught his eye as he calmed. Citrus sourced from Akiva, if he were not mistaken. Velzari reached for a piece and enjoyed the sweet taste. His attention shifted to the arena, where he sighted a new contender, a Pyke.

How interesting.

Velzari’s eyes flashed to Scherezade, a wry expression forming on his face.

The Imperials are growing, but its systems feign loyalty. They bribe their neighbors and call it a unified front, but those worlds were happily independent before credits were put on the table; the Core proves that few systems accept totalitarianism so eagerly.

Kessel,” he went on to say, nodding at Kesh Hevro Kesh Hevro in the arena below, “is a prime example.

It’s no secret that the Pykes have traditionally operated well under Imperial occupation, but they would find so much more success if those spice mines were within Syndicate territory.

Velzari’s smirk turned to a grin. Scherezade could keep her secrets, but the Underlord was willing to divulge one.

I want Kessel,” he said plainly, as if it were a new ceremonial blade or decorative statue for his mansion. “And I have the perfect agent in mind to run operations when the spice mines are ours. She simply needs to be… assessed, for the job.

Velzari hadn’t seen her face on Chroma Zed yet, but he knew she couldn’t stay far from a new stomping ground for long. Kinley Pryse Kinley Pryse was a surprisingly successful asset with great potential. According to his majordomo, the only thing holding her back was a less-than-favorable Vigo on a now-distant planet thanks to the Planeshift. Arcadian Arcadian might not be able to breathe well without his helmet, but he could certainly smell the roses; Velzari trusted the Ubese in these matters, usually without question until proven otherwise.

I’d like for you to spearhead our efforts along the Kessel Run, with Kinley Pryse. Watch her closely, but give her agency. If she handles herself well…” he trailed, eyes followed the next set of contenders coming to blows, “…Kessel will have its next Spice Queen.

And Black Sun would have a staging ground from which to enact its plans for the Imperial Confederation. He grinned devilishly at the prospect. Everything was falling into place.


 
Hound from the Underground
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CHROMA ZED | CAVES
TAGS: Tuchanka Tuchanka | Open
GEAR: In bio

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Working as hired muscle was certainly nothing new to the Mandalorian, however this particular job had him a little on edge due to the people he was going to be working for. The past few months had him commit a number of transgressions against the Black Sun’s partners, his only reassurance was that it was outside of Black Sun territory for the most part and he still did jobs that would have aided them as well.

Hopefully nobody was paying attention…

Sliding his helmet on, Yuri departed from his ship to link up with the other enforcers. The job was quite simple, all they had to do was traipse around some old tunnels, blast some creatures to kingdom come, and collect the pay afterward. It was the fact that it was so simple that made Yuri feel a little uneasy as he checked his kit and slotted in a fresh canister into his new toy, courtesy of the private collection back home. The flamethrower was stowed beside his jetpack as he made his way to the rendezvous point to meet the rest of the Black Sun muscle.

He couldn’t deny the beauty of the planet they were on. If the local populace weren’t as difficult to deal with, he would have stayed around to relax a little.

Reaching the gathering point, Yuri looked over the troopers gathered around the place. He kept to himself for the moment as he tried to figure out who was in charge.

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You Gonna Eat That?

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O B J E C T I V E - 2
NEW YEAR, NEW ME


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Tuchanka's exploits over the last six months had taken her across the Mid and Outer Rim, typically pitting her against the galaxy's tightly-wound powers-that-be and always lining her pockets. Black Sun couldn't scratch every itch she had, but the lizard knew the value of loyalty—and the scent of large prey in the air.

Connections to more than a few of the syndicate's higher-ups had given Tuchanka a steady flow of information. The Underlord had turned his eyes from the pathetic foe that is the Republic to a new pair of enemies: the Imperials and the Diarchs. She knew from experience that both were just as easy to kill as the Royals, but two enemies at once would surely make up for their individual lack of teeth. If nothing else, there were twice as many warm bodies to sink her claws into. The Scorekeeper would award Tuchanka for her kills nonetheless; Jagganath points rarely discriminated.

Chroma Zed was the first step in the Underlord's plans.

On the surface—no pun intended—clearing the old Imperial mineshaft was a solid move to gain the Chromans' trust. But the real goal was appropriating the abandoned equipment that lay forgotten inside; blaster rifles, stormtrooper armor, enforcer droids. Tuchanka wouldn't be packing her scales into anything that white and sleek, but she'd happily splatter the blood of Chroma Zed's wildlife to get it. The credits were good, and there'd be more to come.

"Check your weaponsss," the lizard hissed at the small band of syndicate mercs beside her. "Wouldn't want your blassster to jam."

She turned, noticing a newcomer approaching. His face was strikingly familiar, but then again, it's not every day that a wanted Shistavanen walks so willingly into a chamber full of bounty hunters. Tuchanka's forked tongue tasted the air. His doglike form made her nose crinkle. She hated mammals.

"What bringsss you to Chroma Zed... Yuri Maji," she questioned hungrily. Tuchanka had no intentions of killing him—yet—but she did want him to know that it would be dangerous to feel safe in these caves.


Tags: Yuri Maji Yuri Maji
 
Vashra watched the Pyke´s victory. Impressive. Just what she needed.

Pushing through the crowd she spotted a Black Sun lieutenant coordinating bets, she leaned in close."Put me in the next bout," she said, voice low and direct, laced with Nar Shaddaa grit. The lieutenant arched a brow, sizing her up. "You? Against who we've got lined up? Kid, this ain't a cantina brawl."Vashra's smile didn't waver.

She she knew she was smaller than the other fighters in the ring, lean but her reflexes were lightning without augments. Clean living, willpower: no spice, no drink, no weaknesses for enemies to exploit.

Vashra nodded toward the pit, where the next brute was staggering. "Put me in the next bout and while we are at it, I place a bet on myself."

The Black Sun shrugged "It´s your funeral…"

He grinned at the potential spectacle. Word spread fast. Bets shifted. The crowd parted as Vashra stripped off her jacket on her way to the pit, She cracked her knuckles, rolled her shoulders. The bell rang. Her opponent: a hulking Gamorrean enforcer, twice her mass at least, snorting with overconfidence. Vashra stepped into the ring, green eyes gleaming. Some Gamorreans were actually smart, the streetwise type of smart. They organized fights, not participated in them. With some luck this pork was dumb muscle.

She dodged the first charging swing with grace. Yup dumb muscle. Her swift kick hit him where it hurt most and he doubled over squealing. With a neck as thick as a tree trunk Vashra didn´t bother to try a choke hold. No matter how jacked the pork was with muscle the frontal area of the throat was as vulnerable as the same spot in a human.

Where Vashra had studied alien anatomy? In the back streets of Nar Shaddaa escaping from the goons of her slave master. The Smugglers Moon was an education,

Her strike hit the Gamorrean´s throat not once, not twice but trice followed by a ruthless kick into the weak spot when the pork was softened up. He was vomiting blood in under twenty seconds and choking on it unable to breathe.

More kicks to the snout into the teeth, to the side of his head.

In forty seconds Vashra was done. This wasn´t her funeral. This was pulled pork for dinner. Let the bookmakers cry. Today was a good day to remind the galaxy: beware the young girl from the Smuggler's Moon.

Kesh Hevro Kesh Hevro Scherezade deWinter Scherezade deWinter Velzari Tharn Velzari Tharn OPEN
 
Hound from the Underground
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CHROMA ZED | CAVES
TAGS: Tuchanka Tuchanka | Open
GEAR: In bio

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As the Hound approached the group, a tall Trandoshan immediately stood out to him. From how she gestured and ordered, she looked like the one he was supposed to report to. He pulled his helmet off and clipped it to his belt to address his temporary companions, but the Trandoshan beat him to the punch.

She addressed him by his name, which immediately had him contemplating how he was supposed to approach the situation. A cool grin crept onto his features as he casually rested a hand on War’s grip. His posture was relaxed and peaceful, but he was ready to move if they proved dangerous. ”If you want my autograph, you’re gonna have to get in line, sis.” He quipped as he approached the tall lizard.

It had been a while since he interacted with the scalebacks. ”Same as you, I'd imagine. Credits, chance to shoot something… job offer on the board.” He stood face to face with her, having to look up in order to even make eye contact.

But fear was the last thing the lizard would be able to smell from him. ”Curious choice for you to be here. Don’t you scalebacks like tanning on a rock or somethin’ this time of the day?” He teased with a smug grin stretching from ear to ear. His right hand finally let go of War and instead stretched out to shake the Trandoshan’s. ”How’s about you give me your name, and we can sort this little predicament out after we get our pay?” He kept his eyes locked onto her, a hint of a snarl stretching along his maw.

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Uda! Oooooh AHha-haha-hahaha!

"You said it, Skipper. I've got a good feeling about this!"

Nero fed the kowakian monkey-lizard on his shoulder some hydration wafers to calm it down. Ever since claiming the little creature as his share of a recent prize the two had been fast friends. Life as a pirate suited both their appetites. Shining his glowlamp around the caves gave him a jump scare when it panned over a fearsome karkarodon loitering at the cave's mouth.

"Hey laserbrain!" he recognized the beast as one of Delphos' lads, "You scared of the dark? Come along then."

The glowlamp he held turned back around to create looming shadows of two more fearsome aliens. Nero steeled his nerve with some liquid courage from a flask and then pressed on into the middle of what felt like a tense standoff between rival hunters.

"What shiny fangs we all have!" Nero turned back to Isur, "Bounty hunters I reckon. If we're all here, then the blasted syndicate contract must have already hit the darknet. Karabast!"
 
You Gonna Eat That?

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O B J E C T I V E - 2
NEW YEAR, NEW ME


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A toothy grin spread across Tuchanka's scaly face. Yuri was sharp. Not as much as the Trandoshan's claws, mind you, but there was enough bite behind his bark to keep her entertained.

"I am called Tuchanka," she supplied. "If the minesss don't sssort you out firssst," she mused, "I'd be happy to do it myssself."

Tuchanka was, first and foremost, a bounty hunter. It would be incredibly wasteful to refuse a mark who delivered himself to her presence. Though, it'd be equally wasteful not to benefit from his services beforehand—and get a free peek at his capabilities along the way. Who knows, she might even be impressed enough not to beat him bloody and toss him into the cargo hold of her ship. And as if one pain in the ass was not enough, the group was joined by Nero Drake Nero Drake , Isur Isur , and part of their crew. Tuchanka resisted a facepalm, deciding to embrace the benefit of extra guns instead.

Wanting to avoid wasting any more time, she resumed her briefing.

"The minesss are deep and unsssteady. No oversssight. Weak supportsss."

She held a holoprojector in her scaly palm that glowed to life. The device hummed as a digital map of the mines flickered before them. Several junctions were marked with red blips. Tuchanka pointed at them with a clawed finger.

"If these are not caved in already, they will be sssoon enough. Watch your blastersss." She flashed a grin at the group as her reptilian pupils flicked between each of the hunters surrounding her.

"Shall we begin?"


 
Hound from the Underground
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CHROMA ZED | CAVES
TAGS: Tuchanka Tuchanka | Nero Drake Nero Drake | Isur Isur
GEAR: In bio

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Yuri wasn’t sure if a smiling Trandoshan was a good thing or not, but at least he got a name and a bonus threat from the lizard. ”Just buy me dinner first, and you got yourself a deal.” He teased, turning his attention to the rest of the assembling team.

He couldn’t help but notice the irritation coming from Tuchanka, though it seemed to be her natural disposition at this rate.

He did have to admit that they had a colourful little bunch to clear out this mine. A literal shark, a pirate -or someone who was desperately trying to be- and then the fleabag and the scaleback. Hardly a crack team of high-speed operators, but probably enough to clear some caves.

Tuchanka went on to brief them on the weak points and dangerous areas they would be moving through. ”I’d like a copy of that.” He said as he slid his helmet on and drew his flamer from his back. ”Ready to rock, sis.” His synthesized voice spoke up as he turned towards the cave entrance.

Whether the group would turn on him remained to be seen, but he liked his chances if their gear was any indication. Hopefully he didn’t have to worry too much and all the kids could play along nicely.

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


NOT ME

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His answer came quickly. It was quick, silent. An armored black hand- a stealth field generators' tell-tale shimmering sound as it faded away with too much movement. A vibroblade. He could only go for the wrist. Blocking, dodging, that was out of the question this close. The blade was about half an inch away from his face.

Not ideal.

The figure was clad in black armor. Sleak, well-fitted. Gear. Stealth-field. Another pro. Rival hitman? Or there for him? Hard to tell. Local protector, or rival agent? Or worse, an old enemy. Torn grit his teeth, pressing up. He put his rear foot down flat. Stable out the base. The enemy pushed down with both hands on the pommel. Driving it forward. It cut into his cheek.

He moved quick. Let the wrist go- right when he was applying the most pressure. The enemy fell forward, and Torn caught him by the sides of his plasteel mask. He drove his knee right into his face. The enemy responded by grabbing at his webbing, tossing him. He felt the verpine rifle shatter below him. He tossed off his webbing quickly, knowing how little it would help him.

Torn narrowed his eyes, the enemy recovering. Didn't even phase him. A full knee to the face. The mask was armored, or he was tough. Both could be true. He reached up into his forearm, withdrawing the fighting knife. Roughly six inches long, double-bladed. Long, thin pommel. Not a tool. Not a thing to cut open cans or pry obstacles. A weapon solely designed for killing.

The enemy moved again. Closed the distance. A slash. He didn't deflect with the blade. He went and met his swipe, going low with his right hand- holding the knife, and his left blocked at his bicep. The knife cut into the enemy's midsection. Only a light trickle of blood came out- not deep enough to cause damage, and not heavy enough to cause a restriction in movement.

The fight was on, and it wasn't going to be an easy one.
 
You Gonna Eat That?

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O B J E C T I V E - 2
NEW YEAR, NEW ME


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A few taps on the holoprojector had a digital copy of the map ready for transfer. She was quiet, then nodded when a small indicator flashed green.

All yoursss,” she hissed. And with her scattergun slung her shoulder, she was ready for the descent.

Tuchanka had studied the map well enough to traverse the caves without needing it handy. Like a predator on the prowl, the Trandoshan stalked at a pace that was almost too difficult to match while remaining stealthy. Once she had her mind set and her senses locked on a scent, it was impossible not to let her reptilian instincts take control. Luckily for the band of mercs behind her, they were coming upon the entrance to the mines.

Thisss is the ssspot,” she said in a hushed voice. The Imperial emblem emblazoned on a heavy bulkhead was a dead enough giveaway.

Overtop was a single floodlight, dim but still clinging to life with a low hum and the occasional flicker. A backup generator somewhere was keeping it alive, which meant the control panel that would open the door was also hot. Tuchanka spotted its grimy screen and stepped toward it. She could shoot it, but why risk waking up the beasties prematurely?

Anyone a ssslicer?” she asked, turning to face the crew wit a raised eyebrow ridge. She rolled the shoulder that held her scattergun.

My lockpick isss a little… loud.


 

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