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[Tales of the Underworld]

BLACK SUN SYNDICATE
LEGEND HAS IT

Kwenn Station never slept, but it did pulse, slowly, invitingly, dangerously.​

Neon bled into durasteel corridors, and the air carried the mingled scents of spice smoke, cheap liquor, and something fried that probably shouldn’t have been edible. This was Black Sun territory, and on any other cycle, the syndicate’s operatives would be scattered through cantinas and private lounges, spending blood money like it was going out of style. Tonight, though, something in the station’s rhythm had shifted.

The call went out without ceremony. No poetry. No explanation. Just a priority summons that cut through the noise like a vibroblade: all hands, all hunters, all debts acknowledged. The Glorious Underlord had grown bored, and when Black Sun’s Master of Shadows grew bored, the galaxy bled to entertain him. Factions had become complacent, borders sloppy, alliances loud. Someone needed reminding who truly thrived in the dark between stars, and the Underlord wanted bounty hunters to make the lesson unforgettable.

They arrived in waves. Armored silhouettes at docking bays, scarred veterans and hungry newcomers alike, checking weapons, sharing crooked grins, already eyeing one another as potential rivals or drinking companions. Targets would be named soon enough—targets with names worth credits. But for now, Kwenn Station offered its usual indulgences, amplified to a higher degree. Music roared louder. Drinks flowed stronger. Laughter echoed sharp and reckless. This was the calm before the hunt, the moment when killers danced, gamblers toasted tomorrow’s bloodshed, and everyone pretended they weren’t already imagining the bounty payout.

Because on Kwenn Station, the party always came first. And when Black Sun throws a party, the galaxy learns to pay attention.

Spoiler: OOC Notes

This thread is open to bounty hunters, assassins, thieves, shadowrunners, and any other manner of criminal who seeks to put their skills to work for Black Sun. With not one, but TWO new Invasions on the horizon (ME vs DIA & SO vs TIC), the syndicate has invited the galaxy's hunters—novice to master—to Kwenn Station for a "bounty party." So grab yourself a drink, find a buddy or two, and pick some bounties to collect during these upcoming PVP stories.

Threads Referenced: The Wretched Hive | A Common Enemy​

 

[Velzari Tharn]

BLACK SUN SYNDICATE
LEGEND HAS IT​

​

Once again, Prince Velzari graced the groaning durasteel floors of Kwenn Station with his eminence.

The rhythm of the club's bass drove deep into his core, dancing awkwardly around the beat of his heart. Wisps of smoke from lit cigarras blended with the miasma of perfumes from exotic dancers and the succulent smell of roasted meats. Glasses clinked as they were carted to thirsty patrons, laughs rang out as stories were shared in a dozen languages, and somewhere Velzari was sure he heard the telltale click of a blaster's safety switch. No shot followed, however, deflating the spike of delicious adrenaline that was added to the sensory overload that was Kwenn Station.

Velzari breathed it all in, holding it in his lungs for a moment.

This was all his, and it was just the beginning.

He stepped toward a raised platform and used an aurodium handrail as he ascended the steps. The room quieted as the Underlord came into view. Hushes, shut-ups, and a few clever curses were tossed as Velzari parted his lips to address the mass.

"Good evening, my fellow Underworlders! The Black Sun syndicate is pleased to welcome you to our little hive of... scum and villainy."

A roar of cheers was his reward. There was no hiding the truth, and there was no shame in acknowledging what everyone in the galaxy already knew: Black Sun was the pinnacle of crime and debauchery.

"As each of you are well-aware, our little organization has many friends in high places. We also have many enemies, and those enemies have chosen the wrong side of the sword to stand on. Such is life—the cunning and strong prevail, while the weak and stupid live long enough to be profitable before being put down like sick hounds."

Velzari's grin was cold and calculating. He'd been eagerly awaiting this evening for weeks now. Black Sun's deep network of shadow brokers and informants had gone to great lengths to uncover the information he possessed, and with a little encouragement from the syndicate, many new and exciting bounties were floating across the Outer Rim.

"War shall soon come to the Diarchs and Imperials, and Black Sun shall make out like thieves in both conflicts," the Underlord boasted.

As he spoke, waiters of a dozen species moved like serpents on the jungle floor between tables and booths. This happened all over Kwenn Station, in cantinas, restaurants, modshops, and hookah lounges. Their serving platters were empty of drinks, however—instead, they were piled with datapads. As the devices were taken and activated, screens glowed with the faces of notable Diarch and Imperial targets. In addition to flesh-and-blood marks, there were ships to be stolen or destroyed, infrastructure to be sabotages, convoys to be heisted.

A flavor for everyone.

Velzari laughed like a madman on the stage, his menacing features and heartless pleasure broadcasted to terminals throughout the station.

"Take your pick, bounty hunters. There are many opportunities to sow the seeds of chaos in these coming weeks."

A Fine Selection of Targets

-

PCs & NPCs

• Marlon Sularen [Debt Collection = 50k]

SHIPS & EQUIPMENT

• ALGE Shipyards [Intel = 15k] [Sabotage = 30k] [Destroyed = 100k]
• INV Sularen's Revenge [Captured = 50k] [Destroyed = 100k]
• Min Collateral Star [Captured = 50k] [Destroyed = 100k]
• NZ Dictator III-class Super Battlecruiser "Gluttoneria" [Captured = 50k] [Destroyed = 100k]
• Risen-class Star Destroyer [Captured = 50k] [Destroyed = 100k]

INTEL & OTHER

• Intel on Sith & Sith Assets [Up to 20k per]
• Intel on TIC & TIC Assets [Up to 20k per]

Tags: OPEN​

 

[Vreegan Fett]

Kwenn Station was a den of excess and stench, a stark contrast to the disciplined ranks of the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders he once had the pleasure of leading into battle with the Dark Empire and the Royal Naboo Republic. Many of his brothers and sisters were still out in the galaxy, awaiting a chance when the peaceful Mandalorian Empire would collapse and they could claim the Mandalore Sector for themselves.

Vreegan dismissed such foolishness but would follow the whims of his Alor, if necessary to prevent another sundering of the sector by the hands of the Sith Empire. The Resol'nare dictated a life of action and contribution to the clan, yet here he was, standing among mercenaries who fought for the highest credit rather than the glory of a Mand'alor.

He watched that odious Prince Velzari Tharn from the shadows of the bar, his HUD filtering out the garish neon and the crowd to focus on the man's thermal signature. Surprisingly, the Underlord himself had an absent bounty, or maybe it was substantial but not worth the trouble to pursue, and Vreegan simply couldn't be bothered to verify with his usual sources.

The Underlord's laughter echoed through the station, a sound found more irritating than intimidating. Leaders who laughed like madmen often lacked the cold, calculated resolve required to survive a true war of attrition. "The cunning and strong prevail," Vreegan repeated the Prince's words internally, a faint, grim ghost of a smile touching his lips beneath his helmet.

It was a sentiment the Neo-Crusaders had lived by, though their definition of prevai' usually involved more orbital fire and less aurodium handrails. A server, a nervous Twi'lek with a tray of glowing datapads, approached his corner. Vreegan didn't reach for a drink. His hand, encased in a crushgaunt that had once signaled the authority of a Field Marshal, took a datapad with a precise, measured movement.

The screen flickered to life, illuminating the T-visor of his helmet with the faces of high-value targets. While Marlon Sularen wasn't someone he deemed high value, the bald-headed Admiral had a knack for attracting trouble with individuals who could easily end his life. Maybe the old Field Marshal should consider putting him out of his misery and doing the galaxy a service.

"The things I do for money...." Vreegan murmured, his vocoder lending the words a hollow weight. He didn't care for the Underlord's theatrics, but he respected the reach. In a galaxy where the Mandalorian people were divided into a dozen squabbling factions, a clear contract was the only thing that felt like home.

 

[Isar du Vain]

Leaning against the bartop, a Zeltron in a gold spacer jacket took a drag of a deathstick before glancing at the datapad in his other hand. He exhaled slowly, wisps of smoke fogging from his mouth.

Fifty thousand for their military head.

Not much. But not nothing either.

Isar sighed.

He supposed he should look around the bar to see who would be willing to go half on the bounty for a snatch and grab job. The bar was full of the usual suspects for this type of gathering. Including Mandalorians. Well. There was worse muscle to have on a job.

Glancing at the closest one, Isar pointed, then beckoned the Mando to come closer.

"You fly solo?"

Vreegan Fett

 

[Tuchanka]

BLACK SUN SYNDICATE
LEGEND HAS IT​

​

"You have bigger cupsss than that, I hope," Tuchanka hissed. Her clawed fist thudded on the countertop, fingers unfurling to drop a handful of cred sticks for the bartender. He was a one-eyed Sullustan who nodded first, then spoke.

"Aye, we do. But it'll cost extra," he chanced. Tuchanka's reptilian glare was unflinching, unlike the barkeep's resolve. "Extra for lesser patrons, I mean. For you, normal charge." No sense pissing off the lizard and causing a ruckus. Not tonight, at least. Not when the galaxy's baddest bounty hunters were rubbing elbows and sharpening axes.

No telling who her friends were, or how many would come to her aide if a fight broke out.

A moment later, a large cup full of amber liquid slid toward Tuchanka. She grasped it without skipping a beat, knocked it back, and let the liquor roll down her throat. Twin streams trickled out of the corners of her mouth, and when she was done, she wiped it away with her sleeve before slamming the glass down on the countertop.

"Another," she demanded. This time, the barkeep knew better than to comment. He took the glass and filled it up again.

While she waited for round two to come her way, Tuchanka took a moment to scan the cantina. She propped herself against the bar with her elbows behind her, supporting her weight. The room was pretty full. Practically every seat was taken, and for each person drinking at a table or in a booth, there were three more standing nearby. Above, the face of Black Sun's leader, Prince Velzari, bid welcome to the influx of hunters to Kwenn Station. Then came the datapads.

A passing servant held one out for her to take. Tuchanka snatched it up and flicked it on, curious to see what the party favor contained. Her eyes skimmed over the list of bounties that scrolled on the grimy screen. Several of them looked pretty interesting, but it was the payout she was concerned with. Most ran for a hundred grand. Good money, she thought to herself.

Drink number two came by about that time, pulling the Trandoshan's attention from the portable bounty board. She tossed the datapad on the counter and tipped the glass back, downing another drink just as quickly as the first. This time, though, she didn't have to ask for another when the glass hit the table; the barkeep knew what she wanted and scooted off with the cup to make it so.

Tuchanka considered moving around and sizing up the competition, but she decided not to forfeit a spot so close to where the alcohol trickled from. For now, she stayed put, eyeing the crowd and keeping an eye out for any familiar faces.

Tags: Yuri Maji
​

 

[Yuri Maji]

KWENN STATION | CANTINA
TAGS: Tuchanka
GEAR: In bio

NUMB​

Once again, the Hound wandered into the center of the galaxy’s worst like some kind of death wish. This time he would argue that it was, to a degree, as he wandered the halls of Kwenn Station. At least he wasn’t entirely alone this time.

He wasn’t sure what his relationship with Tuchanka was, but they worked well on Chroma Zed and she didn’t immediately skin him alive and devour him, so that could be chalked up as a win. On top of it all, she mentioned something of a grand bounty hunter bonanza sponsored by the Black Sun itself. With the disaster on Coruscant, and some more personal trouble back home, risking his hide with these killers sounded like a much needed vacation.

It didn’t take long for him to find the enormous lizard, and a slap on the shoulder quickly followed as he adjusted the poncho over his armour and set his helmet aside. ”So, what’s the occasion? You just missed me or what?” He quipped, gesturing to the bartender to bring him the same as his friend.

He spared a glance around the place for a moment to take in the surroundings. To his relief, he wasn’t the only Mandalorian participating in this little social call. He recognized the armour of Vreegan Fett but decided to leave the Crusader to his own devices for the moment. Instead, his attention was occupied by a datapad handed to him by a server. A faint whistle slipped past his lips at the targets presented. ”You’re threatening me with a good time here, Tee.” He commented, looking up at the Trandoshan.

With his involvement in the growing Rebellion, working for the likes of the Black Sun wasn’t the greatest example to set. But the Rebellion needed the cash and, more importantly, having friends like these were usually a good backup to have in a pinch.