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

[Skeevi Merrill]

"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?"

"Skeevi Merrill, they'em," said Skeevi, entirely and egregiously out of turn and despite Delsin addressing his question to Quinn Varanin . "Local cyberdoc makin Black Sun legbreakers. Here on Windrun's pit crew."

They took off their coat and revealed various cybernetics, establishing their bona fides and also the likely source of their connection with Windrun. Cyborgs had to stick together, within reason.

"So if yer not racin, nota self, bet somewhere else." Skeevi squinted. "Wait, back up, yer sayin the Kaggath was rigged?"

Horribly shocking. Skeevi slurped additional beverage to compensate for the shock and to keep any words remotely equivalent to 'sore loser' from crossing their lips.

 

[Isar du Vain]

"Guess we will have to see, yeah." Isar picked up the cigarra, placed it back between his lips, "He's racing in the Ootmian."

Idly, he picked up the cred chit and bounced it off the corner of the table and back into his hand. "One in five racers die."

The cred chit danced between his knuckles, while a frown creased his brown. Somethin' flattened in her emotions at the nickname. Not irritation, nah. Resignation, maybe. Ah, he wasn't so good at reading emotions the way his cousin did, usually just drowned 'em out to try to feel something himself.

"Bet wrong and the only thing you'll be diggin' is a grave for your racer."

Isar operated on a more... cognitive level.

Twin heliotropic pools held her arctic stare and plunged beneath the frigid waves.

"And how do you do your diggin', eh?" Said a whisper in the Force that brushed against Tiione Dine 's mind.

 

[Tohu]

Tohu's desperate hands seized the confiscated baton Grunt provided. Its blood-soaked hilt animated him from head to toe and he licked his lips with a grin, "I owe you one, pork chops!" A heartbeat later, the baton rhapsodically swung from one side to the other, fending off the encroaching swarm.

"Can you get me up to that podium?" he shouted over the ruckus, pointing at the platform where the protest's leader stood. A sea of Xo Charrians divided them.

Grunt

 

[Talin Treicolt]

"Besides, gambling is purely entertainment,"

It was a rare thing to see him so... light, though the change was wholly welcomed, especially after the canyons that had seemed to exist between them since mention of his dreams. A goofy smile bloomed across her face as she leaned in, soakin' up whatever he was willin' to offer.

"Oh, well o'course." Talin nodded with feigned sobriety. "But a lot more entertainin' when you win, so stick to that."

That wasn't agreement, but it wasn't objection, either. Their order grabbed her attention momentarily. Amber ichor topped with somethin' resemblin' blood, it sure did burn when the glass met her lips - but in the kinda way that made ya feel more alive. Wasn't nearly as bad as Morrow made it out to be. His glass was nudged towards him, expentant, whilst she still wielded her own.

"C'mon then, either finish that or we'll have one of the waitresses bring ya somethin' fruity. But ya ain't gettin' away with babyin' nothin' tonight. We're supposed to havin' fun."

Force knew she needed it after the meetup with her sister. Talin's free hand drifted to collect her partner in crime by the sleeve, draggin' him from the dimly lit lounge into the chaos of the floor.

_____________________________________________________
Morrow | OPEN​

 

[Grunt]

Grunt let out a monster of a squeal before he started charging again. He pushed a bunch of the bugs away as the duo made their way toward the destination.

The sheer number of these droids were overwhelming in their own way. That, combined with the fact they were a hive mind, meant it was a very hard task to get across the gap. That didn't mean anything to Grunt, however, and he pushed further and further with each step. He and Tohu moving in synch now. It wouldn't be long until they reached the top.

 

[Tohu]

Grunt waded through the endless sea of Xi Charrians; their antennas breaking against the Gamorreans' sinews or snapping in two by the violent swing of Tohu's baton. When the insectoid maelstrom threatened to drown them, Grunt's thew shot them back to the surface, and he trekked on, relentless.

Tohu measured the distance between them and the podium, steadied his feet, and leapt over the remaining stretch of Xi Charrians. A grin pulled his lips wide as his boots touched the elevated ground. He felt the spear-like legs of a Xi Charrian bearing down on him, and Tohu pirouetted away. Using his momentum, he sprang back at the Xi Charrian and savagely bludgeoned its head.

More of the rebellious prelate's retinue came his way, and Tohu glanced sideways, searching for Grunt.​

Grunt

 

[Tiione Dine]

Isar du Vain
​

Tiione bit her lower lip, hoping she hadn't just kriffed it. Not about picking a winner for the race, nah. This was about that big fuchsia Zeltron looking like her best shot at getting to someone who might actually pay creds for what she could do.

Then that whisper came sliding right into her head, settling down her spine like a cold shiver and making her shoulders twitch.

"Ahahah…" A half laugh slipped out, nerves abuzzing under her skin. She shook out her hands after letting go of her drink trying to shake off the shiver. Figures a Zeltron be the type to pull tricks like that.

She had her own, sure, but being on the receiving end never did sit right.

Not the best way to look like a pro, but she hadn't pegged big Pink for stepping straight into her skull off the get go.

"Oh, hah, guess same way you did," she said, tapping her temple with a sharp grin to cover the slip.

"I dive in, get what I'm after, easy as that. Can scrub a memory clean too, if keepin' it quiet's what's needed." Her hands came up to emphasize and gesture as she spoke. She was a nervous talker alright.

"No questions asked. I keep to myself, get the job done, get my credits. Simple as that."

 

[Isur]

Objective Two

Isur ran in, a blaster shot hitting his arm, near the shoulder. Eyes cluing into the person who shot it. Pulling a knife from his belt, he threw it, twirling handle over blade and into the skin of and chest of the other. He growled again and came running through.

A shoulder tucked in as he ran, throwing it up as he slammed another into the wall. A few shots from over his shoulder and Isur looked back. The crew was working together. Another a yell, and the Force backed it unto a bellow, reverberating down the hall, knocking more over.

That was not something he knew he could do.

 

[Grunt]

Wide, bloodfrenzied eyes watched Tohu flip and make his way around the crowd. Grunt was unsure how to follow that up, so he did what he knew best, wide swings and body pressure. If there was one thing the pig was great at, it was taking up space.

"RHHHNK! The Black Sun Syndicate has no room for you!" He screeched as more of the aliens fell off the platform. They were making their stand, one way or another. The Gamorrean made direct eye contact with Tohu as he took another swing with his axe. He saw how close the lithe warrior was to their goal, if he could complete it they likely would be able to go home soon, and Grunt could get a beer.

He rushed back into the crowd to cause a distraction while Tohu did whatever was necessary.

 

[Tohu]

Seeing Grunt malfunction as he struggled for a new use of his brawn brought a migraine to Tohu's head as much as it did to the Gammorean. Scurrying, skipping, leaping away from the Xi Charrians' razor-sharp legs bursting holes in the wooden floor of the podium where he stood moments before, Tohu couldn't really offer much of a direction to the Gamorrean.

In a moment of divine revelation, Grunt's cobwebbed porkish cogs screeched forward in motion. He hurled himself back into the tide of Xi Charrians, glueing the Charrians' attention onto him like moths to a flame. And there was the opening Tohu craved, courtesy of Grunt: several of the prelate's guards, perhaps by some hivemind instinct for self-preservation, skittered after the large Gamorrean.

Tohu darted in a straight line towards the rebellious prelate. A single guard, in the last moment before the hunter covered the length between them, materialized ahead of him. Too late. The hunter stooped low, then sprang over it like a thief over a wall. He let out a mocking scoff mid-air, taunting the guard's failure, and squeezed the baton with both hands high up in the air.

The last thing the prelate saw before his lights went out was the crazed grin of an unkempt man and a steel baton crashing into his head.

Without their hivemind, Tohu hoped, the Xi Charrian protesters would scatter and their union-sect dissolve.

Grunt ​

 

[Isar du Vain]

The Zeltron pulled the cigarra from his lips and wagged it at her.

“Scrubbin’ and diggin’, eh? That’s good, that is.”

He thought of all the muck he tended to pull out of people’s minds and paint the walls of their dreams with and wondered just what that made him. No daisy, that was for sure.

“I know just who will have a use for you, yeah. See the thin man next to Dooku, that’s Razmir. Need a job? He’s your man.”

Isar said nothing of Mauve, even though she stood right next to Raz, because he was still annoyed with her for not letting him run riot with that carbonite slab of a Jedi.

Tiione Dine

 

[Tiione Dine]

Isar du Vain Razmir Tezhyn​

Tiione's eyes followed where big Pink pointed, landing on the guy with the slicked back hair, sharp clothes, and the sort of posture that said he held some sway.

Razmir. Yeah, he looked like the kind who didn't just toss creds around but made people chase after 'em.

She glanced back at Isar, her grin softening into one of gratitude over her cerulean face.

"Thanks, big guy. Owe you one." A quick playful wink sparked back, before she scooped up her ruby bliel and started strutting toward Razmir.

Perfect. If she played it right, maybe tonight ended with a fresh bowl of Gluk noodles, beer, and some honest-to-stars credits in her pocket.

 

[Morrow]

Compelled by her insistence, Morrow stole another sip of the flameout as Talin dragged him away. It wasn't any less rough the second time around, warping his expression again as it burned in his throat down to his chest. This was supposed to be fun? As they passed out of the lounge into the casino proper, Morrow furtively dumped what remained of the drink into a decorative potted plant. A glance turned to Talin to check whether or not she had noticed. Fortunately, she seemed far more concerned with the Jubilee Wheel, the idea of running the book on the upcoming race seeming to have sparked a fixation within her.

With a small tug, Morrow freed his sleeve from her grasp. Then, his arm snaked under hers and hooked them together elbow to elbow. Another glance followed, this time only his eyes drifting over to meet hers sidelong. No expression accompanied them, but a knowing glimmer was faint behind the blue. A few steps later, they were at the Jubilee table. A Bith was departing, shouting frustrated expletives in his language and throwing his hands up. Morrow stepped up to take his place.

From across the table, the dealer droid's photoreceptors settled on Morrow. Immediately, facial recognition algorithms pinged his player's club profile. He was up a few thousand credits against the house per his lifetime record. Analyzing his appearance, the droid took special notice of the empty glass and the woman on his arm. It calculated that his arrogance should be at an all-time high and subsequently predicted the house would turn a profit. It sent this prediction to Club Vertica's internal network. Somewhere behind the scenes, the forecasted daily net profit changed on a screen.

Offering his credchit, Morrow bought in for the maximum amount of chips for this particular table.

"Good luck, sir," the droid offered with artificial enthusiasm as it dispensed his chips.

Morrow placed his bet and watched the wheel spin.

_____________________________________________________

Talin Treicolt ​