Dominion [Black Sun] Takeover | BSS Dominion of Charros IV

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
CLUB VERTICA, NAR SHADDAA
OBJECTIVE III: GRAND-PRIX PRE-SHOW

Well, she seemed receptive to him, at least. That was a good start. Ronhar had been worried that she would have kicked him out of his seat, but she appeared to be genuinely interested in the hardware that Ronhar was packing.

And if Ronhar knew anything, it was certainly about cybernetics!

"I thought as much!", Ronhar exclaimed as Arris Windrun described the various parts that made up her extensive cybernetic array. "I've also got some BioTech parts myself, though I'm rocking Mod III Cyberlegs and Mod V Cyberarms. No synthflesh for me though, unfortunately, since the Remnant won't pay for anything they don't deem absolutely necessary", Ronhar said bitterly,

"Still, can't fault you on the hardware, those are some solid models in of themselves", Ronhar exclaimed excitedly as he started nerding out over the details and specifications of the cybernetics. "Personally, I think-"

He was interrupted, however, before he could continue this thought.

"Drink, sir?", the bartended asked as he came between Ronhar and Arris.

"Oh, uh, I'll have whatever she's having", Ronhar replied, eager to return to his conversation.

"Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, personally, I think you can't really go with BioTech, though I do wish they'd make them a bit more durable", Ronhar lamented as he unconsciously touched his arms, going over the repairs that had been made after his bout with Seldan Rourke . For an organic, he sure as hell hit pretty hard, as Ronhar's arms had been covered in dents and scratches by the end of the match.

Actually, speaking of fighting, now that he had a better look at Arris, he thought that she looked familiar. Was this the same Arris Windrun that had participated in the Galactic Kaggath? Ronhar wasn't entirely sure, but he was a bit too embarrassed to bring it up, just on the off chance that he was wrong.

"Anyway, what brings you here? They've got me podracing, if you can believe it", Ronhar stated with more than a hint of pride. "Not that I nesseccarily mind, of course, as Podracing is something of a hobby of mine", Ronhar exclaimed proudly. As the bartender came with Ronhar's drink, his eyes monetarily scanned the room once again, and another person caught his attention.

For the briefest of moment's, Ronhar's face soured.

Damien Dooku ! How dare he show his face here, strutting around as if he owned the place! Of course, Ronhar had gotten the last laugh after he had Koda Fett steal Dooku's podracer and deliver it to him. Still, no matter how much Ronhar tested the racing vehicle or took it apart, he couldn't find whatever had allowed Dooku to have such a dominant performance during the last race. Clearly, however he had cheated hadn't been mechanical, but Ronhar would get to the bottom of it no matter what!

Ronhar immediately tried to mask his scowl into a smile, hoping his conversation partner wouldn't notice the change in his attitude. Whatever! She was far prettier and far more interesting to talk to anyway than Dooku could ever be!

TAGS:
Arris Windrun
Damien Dooku
Koda Fett
OPEN

 

[Grunt]

OBJECTIVE I​

Grunt found it incredibly ironic, that he was being ridden by the young man. It must be how Usurer felt when Grunt was on his back. Honestly, he wished the old boy was here right now, but the Vigos didn't want any 'unneeded deaths'. So Grunt would take his place.

The Gamorrean unleashed a banshee of a battle cry and rushed toward the top where the leader was hidden away. His axe had been set to stun so when he made way forcibly, no one died. This did mean, however, that he could make room without care. The Vigos didn't care if they got hurt, that was the tip on top for the enforcers. A little chaos therapy.

"Rrrhhhnk! Make way!" Things were getting crazier now, fights had started to erupt within the groups, Grunt and Tohu had started a ripple that turned into a wave.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Pullin' on the hem of the little black number she had traded in her denim for, Talin leaned over the bar to hail the droid tendin' to various patrons. Damien was the star of this show, but he had disappeared force knew where since they walked in the door. Talin expected to find him back on the Mauve later buried in debt, insisitin' that prize money was good as his anyways after his excellent performance in the Riot Race. The blonde still hadn't figured out exactly he had managed to pull that one off. She was simply a plus one to his mechanic who she still didn't think knew entirely what he was doin'.

"Two flameouts." She ordered, eyes slidin' sidelong to Morrow. "Gonna put some hair on that chest tonight."

The little droid hastily went about makin' good on the drinks. Turnin' half a spin, she looked out to watch the crowd. Machines eagerly ate up the credits offered as the folks in front of them let their eyes glaze watchin' the reels spin. It filled Talin with envy to watch the currency flow. Cornbreaker was still decommissioned, awaitin' repairs she couldn't chunk out change for, the crew was gonna get real tired of her presence any day now.

"I wanna run the book." Talin declared, throwin' all previous good sense about the topic out the airlock. "But I gotta have cred to back, and I don't much feel like crawlin' into bed with the folks around here."

A longing glance fell to the table games in the distance. The jubilee wheel didn't seem to favor her - but her partner had been lucky enough for the both 'o them, thus far.

"Think you can try to earn us some, cowboy?"

_____________________________________________________
Morrow | OPEN​

 

[Tohu]

Tohu's confidence had hit the sky. Exhiliarated, dopamine and adrenaline surged through his body as he rode the Gamorrean through the insectoid masses. His baton flashed across faces and limbs of those who did not move from the hulking behemoth charging forward.

But what goes up must come down.

The ripple that turned into a wave, turned into a vortex that sought to drown them in its depths. What was once a fiery protest blazed into a full blown mass brawl. Far better organized, due to their hivemind, what was once seemed like bugs ripe to be squashed became a coordinated, collective maelstrom in which sunk the single, disarrayed Black Sun.

Tohu's grin quickly strained into a wince. The baton in his hands disappeared, swallowed by the dark swarm. It was up to the Gamorrean to save them from this mess.​

Grunt

 

[Arris Windrun]

Objective 3

A cyborg-to-cyborg conversation was exceedingly rare these days. Not that their kind were rare, but it just wasn't a subject of small talk. The Talusian continued to sip her drink and listened as the man went on about his own cyberware.

She supplied a small grin when he ordered the same thing she had been drinking. A strong choice, more for the effects than the flavor. Well, only for the effects unless your species had a palate for high acidity.

"I'm a racer, too," Arris answered. "Piloting for First Bank of Narsh."

It was a subtle trace of his expression, but the cyborg followed his glance towards Damien Dooku . She looked back at Ronhar Tane and noticed the forced smile.

"You got a problem with that guy?" She asked.

 

[Mauve du Vain]

"The name's Damien" If she shook his hand, Damien would bow his head just slightly enough as a show of respect for the strikingly beautiful Vigo he'd chosen to meet. "Damien Dooku."

Though whatever confident composure Rin had, it began to crumble as Mauve du Vain Mauve du Vain came into view. Steam practically blew out of his ears, and if he lacked a fraction of more shame then his tongue may have lolled out of his mouth.

"And I'm Rin," he thumbed at himself.

The Zeltron turned toward the two men, violet eyes scanning them up and down. One eyebrow rose at the extended hand, then lips painted the color of plum curved into a smile.

"The podracer, of course," her words dripped like honey and she cast a knowing glance at Razmir Tezhyn , knowing something of their history, as she shook Dooku's hand. Then she let out a little laugh of delight as he bowed. "And a gentleman. What a rarity."

Hand released, it went to toy idly at one of the straps of her black dress. The Pantoran seemed half-ready to melt into the floor from the way his emotions reeled around him.

"I trust you boys are enjoying Club Vertica?"

Rin Tohran Damien Dooku

 

[Tiione Dine]

Objective III
Isar du Vain​

Neon haze and spice smoke hung over Club Vertica as Tionne moved through the crowd, the thick mass of cobalt hair swaying about her shoulders, a black sunburst pendant at her throat. To most, it was decoration. To the right eyes, it marked her. Credits were thin, thinner than she liked, and she couldn't afford a wrong step.

She paused at a sabacc table, fingertips brushing the felt with one hand while the other held a glass of ruby bliel cooled against her hand. But the Pantoran didn't drink. She watched.

All around, racers strutted, sponsors flaunted, and gamblers chased fortune like it was theirs to catch. Tionne let the corner of her mouth curve faintly. Every one of them had a price. She just needed to pick the right one, because failure meant more than embarrassment. It meant hunger.

She'd been working on making a reputation for herself as an option when information that was a struggle to get from individuals who were ... difficult to come to heel came into play. It wasn't a great job. It wasn't even a pretty one. It was an ugly job, and what she pulled from the minds of her marks often left her needing more than a few extra minutes in the sonic just to feel clean again.

But no doubt, it paid the bills. It kept her fed. It made sure she could survive another day.

Most girls sold their bodies when there was nowhere else to turn. Tionne did much the same, but what she sold wasn't flesh. She sold secrets, ripped straight from the minds of others, and took her payment in credits.

If that made her a whore, well, then, so be it.

 

[Mammut]

Black Sun Syndicate enforcers and thugs--in Haor Chall gear--stand ready to bust up the protests and clear out Haor Chall’s biggest problem.

Behind the cowering prelate stood T'laak'a'vak, antennae twisting in disgust as the Haor Chall prelate debased himself. Such cringing debased the Work. The Prelate should trust in the Work to protect, to be perfect in every way.

T'laak chittered, mandibles clacking together.

But the Would-Be-Prelate did not know the Way, this Zix. A flawed vision, unfit for the workshops of the hives.

This is not the design of the We. The We are fooled.

A false prophet.

T'laak, though, T'laak knew the Way, could see the bright future, perfect in every facet. The moment neared. T'laak waited.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Objective 3 //:
//: Skeevi Merrill //: Delsin Shaw //:
//: Attire //:

The freedom behind the black wall had become addictive. She didn't have to abide by specific rules, and she could be anonymous at times. Just another pretty face in a club, a bar - wherever. It was something she had never known in the Sith Empire. It had become a breath of fresh air.

Entering Club Vertica was another one of those moments. Quinn was able to let her hair down in a sense and just enjoy her time. Tonight was a private party, one hosted by Black Sun for the podracing scene that they seemingly began to foster. The Princess had only seen some races on the holonet, never experiencing one in person.

It was going to be another new experience.

She carefully moved through the crowd of racers and their sponsors. Everyone was mingling, talking bets, and gossiping about their racers. All a foreign language to the Echani, but she understood enough to know it was exciting. She continued to move till she stopped at the bar.

Tonight, champagne; later, maybe something stronger.

Tonight would be fun, no matter what it took. With her flute in hand, she moved again, spotting a few familiar faces. Her gaze flicked, catching the familiar sweep of Mauve du Vain 's plum hair. Busy. Quinn's smile tugged faintly before she looked away — only to spot Delsin across the room. She started toward him, but before she could take more than a step, someone barreled into her.

Thankful for her Echani heritage, Quinn was able to avoid spilling her drink and looked at the person who had just run into her.

"Oh? I'm — excuse me." Quinn smiled, apologetic that she had gotten in the way of the person. The jingling wasn't missed, and she made a mental note to check herself for anything taken. Last time, she seemed to have lost a bracelet to a scruffy nerfherder.

"You okay? Uh, let me get you a drink for bumping into you." Quinn offered and then nodded towards the Echani, who was on the couch. "I'm meeting a friend, you can tag along if you're not too busy." She nodded towards the full pockets and smiled.

Hopefully, Skeevi would take the Princess up on her offer, and they would both join Delsin. Taking a spot next to the man, she nudged him slightly, a typical Echani greeting, one that she hoped wouldn't startle him.

"Hey, stranger, you clean up well." She grinned as she tilted her champagne flute towards him, "You racing in this thing?"

 

[Isar du Vain]

She paused at a sabacc table, fingertips brushing the felt with one hand while the other held a glass of ruby bliel cooled against her hand. But the Pantoran didn't drink. She watched.

The scent of lavender crept into the air.

A tall, tattooed, fuschia-skinned Zeltron drifted into view at the corner of the table. Smoke wreathed his features from a thin cigarra at the corner of his mouth. He'd one hand stuffed into a flashy gold and black spacer's jacket. His lilac stare moved from the Pantoran, to the table, and back again.

"You placin' a bet, Blue?" his chin tilted up. A strange swirl of emotions rippled in eddies around her.

His eyes narrowed on the pendant hanging from her throat and, stepping forward, he held the sunburst between finger and thumb. Wisps curled as he exhaled.

"Ah, bab, so that's your game."

He let the pendant drop and tugged at the collar of his shirt, pulling it down just enough for her to catch the edge of a tattoo - a mirror to her pendant.

"Haven't seen you around before."

Tiione Dine

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

"You okay? Uh, let me get you a drink for bumping into you." Quinn offered and then nodded towards the Echani, who was on the couch. "I'm meeting a friend, you can tag along if you're not too busy." She nodded towards the full pockets and smiled.

Hopefully, Skeevi would take the Princess up on her offer, and they would both join Delsin. Taking a spot next to the man, she nudged him slightly, a typical Echani greeting, one that she hoped wouldn't startle him.

"Hey, stranger, you clean up well." She grinned as she tilted her champagne flute towards him, "You racing in this thing?"

That had been the most massively fortuitious bump. Skeevi found themself with a free drink, a friend, and a lotta scenery. Not that the pair of monochrome Echani were Skeevi's speed exactly, but they sure didn't make the place look uglier. Skeevi slurped and sat.

"Thass' Delsin Shaw " they said, regardless of the impoliteness of talking about someone as if they weren't right there, "an' Delsin Shaw's nobody's pit crew."

Skeevi had lost like fifty credits on him at Ruusan.

 

[Tiione Dine]

It was the scent that hit Tiione first.

Floral. Herbal. Sweet.

The sort of aromas that a girl like her didn't particularly get to smell on the daily. Smelling good meant good hygiene, and good hygiene meant someone who cared enough had had plenty of credits to make sure they smelled good. Usually a good sign!

Ice blue eyes would drift over to land on the tall John of a Zeltron with a cigarillo in the corner of his mouth and pale violet eyes. And when Isar du Vain plucked the pendant from her neck between his fingers, even she couldn't help the way her heart kick-started.

Oh feth.

It wasn't for the usual reasons, though; Zeltrons were the sort that Tiione wasn't quite sure exactly where to land in her mental list of species that she was okay mind-slicing into.

Out of all the targets she'd handled, Zeltrons were the sort that just... made things very difficult. She knew well what they could do, both in pheromones and their emotions, and taking memories out of 'em had caused more than a few bits of trouble for her.

Nonetheless, her bag of hesitation lightened when he flashed the collar of his shirt to show a tattoo that matched her pendant. Relief replaced the mild sense of alertness, and Tiione's lips curved into a grin.

Okay, time to shine.

"Just finished a job," She explained, leaning over the table to tap the wood again, only this time, she pulled out a credit chit. Risky, but if she needed a game to keep his attention, she was willing to.

"Lookin' for a new one...But reckon playin' a side or two might not be so bad. Who you reckon a girl should put her credits on?"

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
CLUB VERTICA, NAR SHADDAA
OBJECTIVE III: GRAND-PRIX PRE-SHOW

Blast!

So much for subtlety. Arris Windrun had picked up on Ronhar's change of expression almost instantly. Ronhar wondered if the two knew each other. After all, if she was a racer like she said she was (and Ronhar had no reason to doubt her story), it was more than likely that she had met Damien Dooku at some point in her racing career.

Perhaps Ronhar could fish for some additional information about the mysterious Dooku?

Ronhar leaned in close to Arris, and beckoned her to do the same. He then started to whisper what he was saying, though the loudness of the music would have prevented most passerbys from eavesdropping on their conversation anyway. Still, it never hurt to be careful.

"Word on the street is", Ronhar began, "that Damien Dooku cheated his way to victory in the Serolonis Riot 5000. No one knows how he did it either. I was fortunate enough to take possession of his Podracer after the fact, and I've spent the last couple weeks taking it apart panel by panel. It wasn't any sort of mechanical cheating, that I can say confidently. However he did it, he must have had insider knowledge of the track or had gotten to practice on the course early. Either way, I'd be careful around him if I were you, assuming you haven't met him already, of course", Ronhar finished as he took a sip of his drink.

He nearly spat it out all over Arris but forced himself to swallow it down. What the hell was in this thing? This girl liked to drink this...concoction? And people thought he was crazy?

Trying to look cool and recover from his slight fumble, he casually placed his drink back on the bar as he called over the bartender.

"Bartender, could you do me a favor? I'd like you to send a bottle of your finest Merenzane Gold to Rathmar Praji , courtesy of me. Oh, and of course another drink for my lady friend here", Ronhar said as he plunked down the credits for the beverages.

"It's funny, isn't it?", Ronhar chuckled as he turned back to Arris. "The Imperial Remnant doesn't consider Synthskin an 'operational necessity' but would happily spent thousands of credits on bribery instead. Guess everyone's got different priorities, huh? Miss...I'm sorry, I didn't seem to catch your name, or give mine for that matter. Captain Ronhar Tane, TK-3301 of the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant at your service. You can just call me 'Ronhar' though", he finished saying as he attempted to gulp down another sip of his drink. Disgusting!

TAGS:
Arris Windrun
Damien Dooku
Rathmar Praji
OPEN

 

[Isar du Vain]

“That right,” Isar mused, ever the skeptic of infiltrators after that blasted bounty hunter snuck his way into a Syndicate celebration.

Still, he felt her desire to prove herself and the effect his actions held on her and the sense of relief which washed across her once he showed his mark. But he could feel something in the Force about this girl with hair the dark blue of midnight - heady as the smell of cigarra smoke in the club.

“Alright. Can’t go wrong with Dooku. Whatever he’s betting on, he’s sure to win it, yeah?” Isar jerked his chin in the direction of the arrogant son of a Bantha, who looked all tied up in conversation with the Vigos. “Unless, you want to make your own luck. Something tells me you know how.”

He plucked the cigarra from his lips between forefinger and thumb and offered it to her, eyes drifting down her azure fingertips to the cred chit.

“Don’t you, Blue.”

Tiione Dine

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

Please disregard

 

[Grunt]

An organized hive mind was nothing compared to an angry pig and free reign to break up a crowd. His axe was swung wide, even if he couldn't out maneuver them, he could control the field. His wide swings bought them room to move. Grunt used these pockets of space to move around.

The good news was they were slowly making their way forward. The bad news was, Grunt was carrying someone on top of him who had lost their weapon. Just then another Syndicate member got toppled by the bugs. Grunt saw the opprotunity and took it, snatching the downed member's weapon and giving it to Tohu . "RRNNKHK! Take this!"

 

[Delsin Shaw]

|| Objective III: Grand-Prix Pre-Show ||
|| Tags: Quinn Varanin | Kinley Pryse | Skeevi Merrill | Open ||
​

There would have been quite the idea. The reporter speaking of the racers. The crews that were taking part. Each of them preparing or otherwise making deals to get the best things possible for the race. Being held by the Black Suns, I knew that there was always a chance of the individuals having outside help. Just like the Kaggath. However, what made it interesting were the racers. Sponsored by different companies. Namely one I had seen before. Bespin Gas. It was interesting to see. Looks like they were making deals all over in order to get their name out there. Respecting the hustle.

Yet, my attention was ripped from me. I had been too engrossed in the reporting to sense the presence of two people who drew close. Quinn who had come to sit down next to me. Nudging me to grab such attention from me. The emotionless expression shifted to that of a smirk. A single chuff came from my nose as I leaned forward. Grabbing my whiskey and bringing it to her flute.

"I don't always have to wear armor."

However, the second person spoke up after she had asked if I was taking part in the race. This individual I had never met before. Not sure if they were already hitting their number of drinks, or if that was just how they spoke. Treating them somewhat carefully for now. Even when they had mentioned my lack of not being in a crew. It looks like my name was carrying some weight after such actions. Sure, the bounty, but I was not worried about it. Instead, enjoying my time for the moment.

"Correct. I will not be taking part. Learned my lesson. Some games are rigged from the start."

A slight shrug of my shoulders as I took another healthy drink from the glass. Feeling it coat all the way to my gullet. A soft shake of my head before looking at this new person, while I spoke to the Echani.

"Well, who is your new friend?"

 

[Morrow]

OBJ 3: Grand-Prix Pre-Show

​

"Gonna put some hair on that chest tonight."

Glass rang against synthwood as the droid slid the mixed drink across the bar. Morrow cast an unenthusiastic glare down at the beverage, retrieving it tentatively. Liquid fire seared down his throat and tingled up into his nose with the first sip, twisting his face into a grimace as it turned away from the brim of the glass. A single cough followed, ushering forth a disgusted frown as the initial tightness in his features wore off.

"That's fethin' awful," he remarked dryly. Morrow was hardly a drinker to begin with. A flameout was more than a little beyond his capacity for revelry.

"I wanna run the book."

Morrow sighed. "I knew you'd say that eventually."

Upon her suggestion, he looked over toward the table games. During their last outing, Morrow had lost a mere single spin at the Jubilee Wheel out of several, and only because he'd listened to Talin's suggestions for betting. He hadn't considered playing tonight, though he should have expected her to have some kind of scheme that would see him ending up across from a dealer anyway.

"If I lose, you won't be running anything, you know?" Inevitably, the House would always come out on top. "Besides, gambling is purely entertainment," he added. It seemed like a genuine lecture and disapproval at first, until the faintest smirk crawled up the corners of his mouth.

_____________________________________________________

Talin Treicolt | OPEN​

 

[Tiione Dine]

Isar du Vain​

It was in the way he said it: Unless you want to make your own luck. Don't you Blue.

The nickname didn't even ruffle her feathers; there was no denying that as a Pantoran, her skin was blue. The only difference is that her parents died in a turf war before she could get the golden tattoos on her face like other Pantorans.

Not that she minded. It just was what it was.

If the offering of the cigarra was a test, Tiione was willing to take it, reaching out to pluck the vice and bring it to her own lips, that cherry tip flaring bright red as she took in a drag that filled her lungs and instantly steadied her.

"I've a trick or two in gettin' Lady Luck by my side." she admitted, bringing her hand up to pass the cigarra back to Isar du Vain .

"But sometimes gettin' advice the old-fashioned way works just as well. We all need a little bit of information here and there from where it counts. I just know a couple of ways of diggin' deeper if needed.... if the price is right."

She set her credit chit down.

"I'll take Dooku then."

 

[Aurellia]

OBJECTIVE II

The Hapan fleet emerged from hyperspace with a fury to provide reinforcements to their brethren who had been docked at Lanupa. Gleaming Battle Dragons led the vanguard, each hull trimmed in gold, ebony, and sapphire. Ion cannons swiveled in interlocking arcs to pick apart the shields of the enemy. Aurellia's flagship floated at the center, as her cruisers fanned out to cut off any ship attempting to flee the pincher's grasp.

"Those shields are flickering!" Kija called out from her seat.

"I see it." Li'ell replied, glancing over a screen. "Ready torpedoes on my mark."

"No. Deploy Scepter Squadron in pairs, focus the engines." Aurellia ordered. "I want it dead for boarding."

Within minutes, the queen's demand was carried out. Fighters raced forth from the battle dragon like falcons loosed in the fields. Explosions blossomed across the rear of the enemy line, as torpedoes tore through hulls with the animosity of a woman scorned. Ships already crippled by the Dragons' fire were swiftly surrounded by corvettes and gobbled entirely. Scepter Squadron rolled as they lifted away from the target and circled to run again. It was just as intricate and deadly a dance as any in the Hapan Court.

"Shields are gone." Kija finally chirped. "They're dead in the water."

"Excellent." Aurellia rose from the captain's chair, a cape unfurling behind her to meet the floor. "Prepare my personal guard. We'll take it intact."

Several heads across the bridge snapped to look at their queen.

"Ereneda?" Mia'ane asked hesitantly. "Do you-?"

A severe look from Aurellia cut the question short. She had not misspoken. A portion of the ships here had been under her command, and as such, demanded personal retribution. Let the price of these corporatists' dogs pay for any repairs she needed after this.

"Li'ell, take the bridge."

Without further question, Aurellia made way for the lower decks.