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

[Diamond Dog]

BYOO
Somewhere on Chroma Zed

\> ▶ NOW PLAYING: "THE GAME" — Denzel Curry
\> TIME: 00:24 / 02:44 | VOL: 110% | LOOP: OFF

Cleared of enemies, it became a matter of rote familiarity to set up the necessary charges to cripple the factories. The combat stims were wearing off by now, which meant his perception of time too. That little detail made traversing the wide factory grounds less tedious.

All in all, the assault on the KZZ Corp factories had gone quite well. His frame had suffered minimal damage, and he'd stayed below the ammo quota for the mission. The profit factors were stacking up, it wouldn't be too long until he could join the big leagues and afford an official bounty hunting license of his own. Right now, a stolen one would have to suffice, but it wouldn't take long until this one got burned when someone noticed the original owner had turned up dead in an alley somewhere.

Once the last charge was set, DD took a moment to hot-wired a speeder bike to make the return trip a little more time efficient. At a safe distance, he hit the detonator, and grinned a little as the twilight was lit up by the explosion's light.

Handler
« Good job, Hound. Return to base. »
​

DD gave a silent acknowledgement, that brief instant of satisfaction already forgotten.

 

[Kinley Pryse]

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

They say Kinley Pryse once talked her way out of an execution… then shot the executioner.

​

The credits vanished as quickly as they'd appeared. Kinley let the offworlder melt back into the crowd, already lighter on his feet, already smiling at nothing. She didn't watch him go. Watching made things messy.

She turned her attention back to the balustrade just as another shadow eased into the space beside her, this one leaner, sharper. Local. Callused hands. Eyes that never stopped moving.

"You sell souvenirs too?" he asked, voice dry as old sand.

Kinley glanced at him then, slow and unimpressed. "Depends," she said. "You buying memories or forgetting them?"

That earned a flicker of a grin. He shifted his weight, showing her the faint sigil inked at his wrist, nothing official, just enough to say he knew which doors stayed closed and which ones charged a toll.

"Need something for after," he said, jerking his chin toward the pit. "Whole crew does. Clean."

Kinley exhaled, like she'd been mildly inconvenienced by the question. Another vial slid free, this one darker, heavier in the light. She didn't dress it up.

"Batch from offworld," she murmured. "Keeps you sharp. Keeps your hands steady. You'll still feel the bruises, but you won't care as much."

He weighed it in his palm, eyes narrowing. "Price?"

She named it. He didn't argue. Smart men never did.

When the exchange was done, Kinley pushed off the stone and zipped her jacket, already scanning for the next hungry face.

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Yuri Maji]

CHROMA ZED | CAVES
TAGS: Tuchanka | Nero Drake | Isur
GEAR: In bio

You Know Me Too Well​

There was a brief moment of tension among the team, they all saw the outline in the brief flash from the pirate's shot. His pessimistic attitude didn't help Yuri's mood either. Luckily the creature scurried off and left the team all alone again in the darkness. "Oh, stop being so grim. I doubt they're even that-"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence.

In a matter of seconds, one of the creatures managed to sneak up on them and jumped the pirate. The Hound drew a pistol to fire at the beast, but Tuchanka beat him to it with a blast from her scattergun. She seemed far too happy with the kill. Yuri sighed and holstered his pistol, turning his attention back to the rest of the mine.

"You scorekeeper's gonna have a field day with this bunch." Yuri remarked, gesturing down the shaft ahead of them. It was faint, quick breaths and faint vibrations of movement that had his ears flicking underneath his helmet. It quickly followed with harsh shrieks and snarls as an unknown number of the creatures descended upon the group. "Get back!" He called out, taking his stance and pulling the trigger of his weapon. The darkness of the mine was vaporized in an instant as roaring fire spewed along the path ahead of them. One or two creatures were caught in the spread and writhed in agony with flames dancing across their hides. Yuri quickly disabled his scopes and adjusted against the harsh light, but he didn't let up from the trigger of his weapon for a good few seconds.

Not until the monsters were either burning, illuminated or falling back.

His visor hid the mixture of disgust and barbaric satisfaction as the few he caught continued to suffer. To think that this was a standard weapon in his mother's clan...

"Anyone else got visual?" He asked, sparing a quick look at the rest of his team.

 

[Vashra Foss]

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


The fights had felt good. They had released the rage and aggression in Vashra that always simmered below the surface of her pretty face. How did the Jedi wizards call it? Right, the dark side of the Force. Vashra smirked. She didn't know the first thing about the Force. She didn´t believe or care. She did believe in predators and prey though and Vashra knew exactly on what side of the food chain she wanted t live.

Which brought her back to the greater purpose of her being here. Busting skulls was fun and relaxing but she wanted to leave this Black Sun gathering with new contacts and after having left an impression on the ones who mattered. Her plans were too big to offend the powers that were. She needed some exposure and attention.

Well, blind luck helped her. Or maybe the dark side of the Force looked after its own?

The guy bumped into her. Human, male, all swagger, probably cruising on something, a gift from the spice mines, not drugged enough to be incapacitated but enough to feel invincible. In other words, an idiot on spice, a living example why Vashra stayed away from this stuff, even from hard drink. They only clouded your judgement and worse.

This guy was on the fast track to worse. Let out a roaring belch as he stumbled into Vashra, his elbow hitting her ribs. Not a good idea at any time much less after she had been through two prize fights.

"Yooh banta brain.!" Vashra pushed him back, kicked his knee from the side for good measure. Whatever he was flying high on had raised his pain threshold. Didn´t even notice. He noticed the resistance. The sudden snarl on his face was proof of that Vashra gave him another quick check.

His last bath had been a while ago. His clothes were dirty too but his hands were clean and his low-slung blaster belt almost pristine.

Polished, waxed leather and a crome-plated sleek gun.

Gunslinger on the loose or racketeer perhaps, a guy who lived by his fast draw but with a dangerous spice habit.

Dangerosu for him that was.

"queen!" he screamed, the pain in his knee finally registering in whatever he had for brains in slow motion. Not really imaginative but close enough to the truth.

His right hand dropped, hanging half open beside the hilt of his blaster. Vashra´s hand was already there.

The crowd around them suddenly dispersed and opened up a wide circle. This was a Black Sun party after all. The guys here were professionals and even those who were just impostors had enough smarts and experience to recognize a shootout about to happen. Caught in the line of fire was not just theory for them.


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