Junction &nbsp; [BSS, ME, SO, TIC] PROPHET MOTIVE | Junction of Voss &amp; 3 Empty Hexes (see thread)

Judah Dashiell |

Siv Kryze

Dark coal black eyes peered across the room, taking in faces of those arriving. Unblinking eyes attached to an expressionless face. A diminutive figure unseen in a sea of giants not just in size but in fame and fortune as well. All here to mourn the death of Necal Dobwaran, with subterfuge.

Those eyes watching them knew well this gathering had less do with a funeral and more to do with a fortune. The face those eyes belonged to was one Tamsin Starfall, not an aristocrat, not a warlord, and not anyone of note. Unless you counted the fact she was

Darth Anathemous 's little sister which in some circles meant something. Not always a good thing she would fully admit to herself.

Also, there was the Starfall name she now carried, she was slowly finding out that name carried weight and again not always the good kind. Still, she here she was keeping an eye on the people of this gather but one in particular.

Anet Raine who was currently moving towards the bar with a gentleman.

For a historian of sorts, she seemed to blend so well into this type of social order. Seamlessly almost, people noticed her but didn't at the same time the right amount of blending without sticking out like the famed sort did. Tamsin watched Anet as she grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter's tray.

She took a sip with her dark painted lips, her eyes firmly on the target. She finally moved from where she had been watching and through the sea of people making her way toward the bar herself.

Ronhar Tane · Friday at 8:13 AM

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
OBJECTIVE I: IMPLIED ODDS
TOWER OF PROPHECY

"Stay sharp, and keep it moving!"

Ronhar and the men of Reclaimer Squad continued their brisk but cautious advance through the Tower of Prophecy as they continued their search for any surviving Voss Mystics. The journey to the planet had been easy enough, as the Peace Keeper had been able to deploy Ronhar's squad to their objective without any major incidents. Ronhar couldn't help but wonder if that was by design or coincidence, as these so called "Mystics" were apparently quite attuned to the "will of the Force", whatever that actually meant. As far as Ronhar and Reclaimer Squad was concerned, they were simply VIPs that needed to be extracted from the tower as soon as possible to be delivered into Imperial Confederation custody. What happened to them after was neither Ronhar's concern nor business, but ensuring that they may it out alive certainly was.

Still, Ronhar doubted that his luck would hold for long, as sooner or later he was bound to run into some form of opposition. As Ronhar and his eight man squad of ARC Troopers continued their advance down the hallway, they checked every nook and cranny for any signs of their targets or enemies. Finding none, they made their way to the end of the hallway, where the staircase would take them up to the next floor. Before they were able to walk up the stairs however, something came flying down past them, visible through an open window next to the stairs. Everyone saw it, and they immediately raised their weapons toward the unknown factor. It landed with a sickening splat, and when Ronhar went to investigate it by peering out the window, he quickly determined it was the body of a dead mystic that had been brutally disemboweled.

Based on a quick cursory glance, it was rather apparent that had been sliced apart with a lightsaber. That meant one of two things: either a Jedi had gone mad and killed this poor creature, or Reclaimer Squad was going to have to deal with a Sith Lord. Ronhar clutched his Acid Rifle close to his chest as he double checked to make sure the weapon was fully operation. He could feel the weight of his Sonic Pistol in its holster and the bulk of Burnblade hanging off his back as he made his final adjustments to his weapons. Most importantly, he confirmed that his HNDA-Mk I was powered on and ready to go, because he was sure he was going to need it, and probably very soon.

With all his weapon checks reaffirmed, Ronhar walked back to the base of the staricase.

"Reclaimer Squad, form up on me! Single column!", Ronhar ordered as the soldiers under his command complied, forming a single file up the flight up stairs. Upon reaching the next floor, Ronhar walked forward, ready to fight his way though any enemies that might try to impede his progress.

Instead, he found a rather bizzare sight. A lone female was standing next to the window that the Mystic's dead body had fallen out off, smoking a Cigarra and seemingly appearing unconcerned with anything that was going on around her. Ronhar would have had to have been blind as a Mynock not to have seen her, and dumber than one not to figure out that she had been responsible for throwing the deceased alien out of the window.

Ronhar was sure of it. She must be a Sith Lord!

Ronhar raised his left fist, signaling the men behind him to stop their advance. Ronhar then proceeded foward toward the lone figure, his Acid Rifle never leaving who he was aiming at. He began to speak in the vain hope that the Sith might leave or at least allow them to pass.

"I am Captain Ronhar Tane of the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant, TK-3301. This is a restricted area under Imperial protection. I demand you vacate the premises immediately or risk termination", Ronhar stated authoritatively as his men behind him shifted uncomfortably, their own weapons raised and ready to fire but their line of sight currently blocked by Ronhar. With luck, Reclaimer Squad would be able to continue forward toward their objective. Of course, Ronhar doubted he'd be able to leave without a fight, and he had strategically placed himself between the alleged Sith Lord and his men so that the Sith would have a much more difficult time trying to target them. If it came to blows, Ronhar would order his men to abandon him and rescue as many of the Mystics as they could, since that currently took priority over hunting the Sith.

Ronhar swallowed hard as his finger hovered over the trigger of his weapon, ready to fire at the slightest provcation...

TAGS:

Vestra Tane

Anet Raine · Friday at 9:34 AM

Direct tag:

Tamsin Starfall
Others:

Siv Kryze |

Judah Dashiell

"Miss Raine," said her attendant, who sped along to keep with her brisk pace. His voice was hushed. "Please, Miss Raine!"

Anet ignored his pleas and maintained trajectory like a starship on a crash course. It was the way she carried herself... Chin slightly high, back straight, strong gait, and piercing stare. Nothing was going to slow her down. She also stood, wearing the same getup she had adorned at the Queen Mother's wedding.

An all black dress, wrapped around her body in a woven pattern, enough to expose gaps of pale flesh without giving too much away. She had boots to match, a silver choker, and a similar bracelet. Certainly inappropriate for a funeral, more so than a state wedding.

Her entrance into the bar turned a few heads. Some simply because she stood out, and others in recognition of who she was... or at least whom she represented. The half-pantoran's father was Alabaster Raine - known simply as Bass Raine to those within his circles - the obscenely rich Arkanian magnate, and not-so-secret stakeholder within the Corporate Sector's economy. His wealth and influence were valuable, but the shameless Alliance loyalist in him has not helped refute his "outsider" status among this crowd.

Anet sat at the bar, while her attendant stood some distance behind her, in that awkward man-servant's pose, leaving his discomfort known to all who looked their way. Oh, he was surely going to be fired for this either way.

While the woman waited for the serving unit to come around to her, she spotted a familiar sight already enjoying a glass of wine. A fellow Sith, and one who traveled in similar company, even if their paths only crossed once.

She waved Tamsin over to her.

Velzari Tharn · Friday at 11:16 AM

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
D E A D - M A N ‘ S - H A N D

Many currents were flowing, each in a different direction and with varying intensity. Eyes shifted to witness the Underlord’s presence. Some remained affixed, others darted away as soon as they spotted him. Velzari’s gaze was likewise moving, sharp and deliberate like a bird of prey.

He saw the proclaimed Warlord

Marlon Sularen across the floor, who stood with white-knuckled fists that implied he’d already noticed Velzari’s arrival. Black Sun’s initial agreement with the Confederation had been dismissed as a twofold punishment for their attack on the Sith—an ally—and their failure to conquer Brosi. The conflict revealed that the Confederation was simultaneously intolerant of the Sith Order, and too weak to do anything about it.

Naturally, the isotope-5 that was promised them would be used much more effectively by the victors who would undoubtedly weave it into their eventual vengeance. After all, the Sith do not forgive grudges… and what better fuel for a grudge than isotope-5? It wasn’t particularly personal, though Velzari understood that many were not as visionary as he; it was simply a matter of credits, who had them, and who’s willing to let go of them.

A passing conversation drew Velzari’s attention from the Imperial Knave. It originated from

Dominique Vexx and some nameless suit. Of the two, the former was much more memorable; Director of the N-CSA, Senator of Denon, and the unspoken face of the Republic’a Corporatists. Yes, Velzari had read reports about her. He was impressed by her extensive record. Hopefully he’d cross paths with her this evening.

For now, the approach of a beskar-clad Mandalorian held his attention. A smile broke through the Prince’s otherwise placid expression as

Siv Kryze spoke.

“And what are your intentions this evening, Mandalorian?” he questioned the hitherto unnamed warrior. It was difficult to ascertain the extent of Black Sun’s interest in the man without knowing who he served and to what end. Though the two of them were standing on Bonadan, there were many schemes unfolding elsewhere in the Outer Rim—some that might be perceived as a threat against the Mandalorian Empire.

The Underlord eyed his reflection in the warrior’s visor with interest, awaiting the end of a thread for him to pull.

Tags: Vigos |

Siv Kryze | OPEN
Nearby, probably:

Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory

Tamsin Starfall

Siv Kryze · Friday at 7:08 PM

.

DOBWAREN ESTATE, BONADAN

Siv's visor caught the muted gleam of the holo-lights as he regarded

Velzari Tharn , unflinching.

"My intentions, Prince Tharn," he said evenly, "are to see that Dobwaren's legacy doesn't become a feeding ground."

His voice carried the calm weight of iron—measured, deliberate, neither defensive nor deferential.

"Mandalore didn't come to claim his holdings or meddle in the Board's affairs. We came to ensure that whoever inherits this sector understands that stability has a price, and we know how to keep it paid. Dobwaren's strength was order. Without it, Bonadan burns."

He inclined his head slightly, the faintest gesture of respect that did not concede ground.

"If order is to survive here, then Mandalore will lend its hand to those who mean to build—not bleed—the system."

Siv turned as Governor

Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory approached, his movement deliberate—acknowledging her without the ceremony this world often demanded. The mirrored surface of his visor reflected her silhouette, calm and composed amid the low hum of conversation and softly pulsing holo-displays.

"Governor Visconti," he greeted, voice low and even, carrying just enough warmth to temper the mechanical rasp of his helmet's vocoder. "Bonadan rarely offers surprises, but when it does—they tend to be worthwhile. You've proven to be one of them."

He gave a slight nod, stepping aside just enough to let her join the circle without yielding his stance entirely.

"Bonadan moves even when it mourns," Siv said, his voice steady. "The lights never dim, the deals never stop. People call it progress—but half the time, they're just running from the quiet that comes after."

He glanced toward the gathered dignitaries, the hum of conversation soft but relentless.

"Mandalore learned long ago that motion isn't the same as purpose," he continued. "Strength without direction collapses, no matter how high it climbs. Legacy isn't what you leave behind—it's what still stands when no one's left to claim it."

His visor turned toward the skyline, its glow reflected in muted silver.

"That was Dobwaren's lesson," Siv said, voice lowering. "He didn't build for ambition. He built so the order he forged would hold after he was gone. If Bonadan forgets that, everything he built will crumble into noise."

A quiet pause followed—just long enough to draw attention without demanding it. When Siv finally spoke again, his tone was steady, almost conversational, but the weight in it left little room for misunderstanding.

"So tell me both," he said at last, visor tilting toward them, "what's your intention?"

Tag:

Marlon Sularen

Dominique Vexx

Anet Raine

Velzari Tharn

Judah Dashiell + OPEN

Renn Vizsla · 2025-11-01T02:58:04-0400

Tag: Velzari Tharn | Aether Verd | Dominique Vexx | Siv Kryze | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Anet Raine | Judah Dashiell | Marlon Sularen

The rain on Bonadan never fell clean. It hissed against the estate’s shield in greasy streaks, black and silver under the floodlights. Renn watched it run down the transparent barrier like ash washing off armor after battle. Beneath his hood, the reflection that stared back was still: visor dark, shoulders squared, posture taut with quiet readiness. He hadn’t come to mourn. He had come to be seen.

Inside, the air was too warm, too polished. The kind of place where people whispered while pretending not to. Imperial uniforms, corporate silks, Black Sun robes, all gathered to pick the bones of a dead man’s empire. To most, it was a funeral. To Renn, it was reconnaissance.

His steps echoed against the marble as he moved through the hall, cloak shifting with each turn. He could feel eyes follow him, pause, retreat. They knew what Beskar meant, even here among financiers and governors. It meant that Mandalore was watching. That its reach didn’t end at its borders.

He caught glimpses of faces as he passed,

Velzari Tharn , the Falleen prince of shadows, smiling as if he already owned the room;

Dominique Vexx , poised and unreadable, her smile measured like a contract; and

Siv Kryze , a steady anchor amid the swirl of opportunists. The sight of his fellow Mandalorian grounded him for a moment. At least someone here understood discipline over greed.

Renn paused by a panoramic window overlooking the storm-lashed skyline. The city burned beneath the clouds, its neon reflections bleeding through the rain. He stood there in silence, the faint hum of the shield vibrating through his armor. The galaxy’s powerful gathered here to trade illusions of control, but beneath the surface, they were all afraid of loss, of chaos, of each other.

When the door opened behind him, the sound of shifting armor was enough to know who it was.

Aether Verd , the Mand’alor, had arrived, his presence quiet but commanding, like the gravity of a planet entering orbit. Renn turned slightly, offering a wordless nod of respect before falling into step beside him. Two figures of iron and shadow among a sea of fragile power.

They spoke little. They didn’t need to. The mere sight of Mandalore’s Warmaster and its Mand’alor standing together in a hall of opportunists was statement enough, a reminder that while others played at commerce and influence, Mandalore endured, unbent by the storm."

The Will of Iron.

[/div]

Velzari Tharn · 2025-11-01T11:29:36-0400

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
D E A D - M A N ‘ S - H A N D

There was a hint of displeasure in the warrior's tone. That, or Velzari's suspicion of the Mandalorians being a far too serious people was accurate. Regardless, the Underlord answered the mirrored question with a blend of knowing intellect and ambitious confidence.

"The Corporate Sector is already compromised," he said. "Worlds like Bonadan cling to the emblem of a defunct nation, one that packed its bags and relocated to Republic space months ago." Contacts such as

Reggie and

Castor Crane left little question about that fact. The presence of

Dominique Vexx was the only sign of a hole in Velzari's logic, but it was perfectly reasonable for the director to come looing for the missing sums of her corporate acquisition.

"What we're left with now is a bloated corpse being pecked at by vultures. The Sith, the Confederation, Black Sun—we all want something, naturally. The galaxy only moves because greed and gain turn the gears. I won't profess to know the intentions of my competitors, but believe me when I tell you that deducing what they want is a very good skill of mine."

The Falleen's hungry eyes skimmed over the parlor, spying a few faces and making notes of who wore them. He spotted

Renn Vizsla moving through toward a viewport. Then he returned his gaze to the Mandalorian beside him.

"If the Mandalorian Empire is truly here to maintain 'stability and order,' I'm afraid you're wasting your time. Without Corporate power, it's only a matter of time before the Bonadanians realize the boot isn't pressed on their throats anymore. They don't want your Empire or the Confederation. They don't want the esoteric machinations of the Sith. What they want is to restore their status as a prominent trade port, and who better to handle that reversion than Black Sun?"

Velzari grinned wolfishly. Of course, there were tributes to be paid and loyalties to demand, but that was the case with any power. Would the Mandalorians not ask for anything in exchange for prescribing "order?" Would the Imperials not bleed the already parched soil for what little minerals were left? Would the Sith not impose their beliefs on the people? Bonadan would soon see what dozens of systems across Hutt Space and the Outer Rim have already experienced: life is simply better when Black Sun pulls the strings.

A small chuckle followed as Velzari considered all of the Mandalorian's words. "You believe that the Dobwaran legacy was not build on greed itself? Join your friend at the viewport there and take a look: the very earth cries for relief. The sands are full of rust and waste. Surface water is riddled with pollutants. I'm surprised my shuttle didn't disintegrate on landfall... I'll have to re-plate it when I return to Nar Shaddaa."

"No, these people only want freedom to make their own choices. Freedom from Emperors and Lords. Black Sun can promise them that, and when they take us up on the opportunity, you'll find that Bonadan will be much happier—and far more cooperative."

Tags: Vigos |

Siv Kryze | OPEN
Nearby, probably:

Tamsin Starfall

Drego Ruus · 2025-11-01T12:46:22-0400

Allies:

Isobel Serraris
Enemies:

Darth Strosius

Naamino Zuukamano

The assault on Voss had been a low priority at first. Black Sun agents fighting with Imperials. A squabble unrelated to the goings on of the Protectors. Drego had done what he always had. Send a security escort for Mandalorian shipping lanes, and a few scouts.

The scouts are what had dragged him into this.

The Sith had gotten involved. That's what led to him sitting in the Star Dragon III, looking over reports. Clan Ruus had earned their stripes in training scouts, and Drego had used that information the only way he could. Live relays back to his ship, watching the Tower of Prophecy from afar.

2 shuttles, on their way to pick up a pair of sith ready to book it out of the system. Plenty more nearby. Other Vode had already been on the ground, but he was still in the wings. Waiting on orbit for a moment to strike.

He watched through the relay as the shuttles came into strike range. Now he'd hit them.

"Tanya, fire the spot cannons, then dive into orbit."

Without a word, his ship's AI systems went into action. The B-wing tilted downwards, firing a series of ion shots. Each enough to take down a shuttle on it's own, before the ship's engines came alive.

The strike was swift and clean. The B-wing was designed for taking on starfighters, so a pair of shuttles, lightly armed and unable to hit back with any ability at such ranges, were shredded as Drego swung them around, and fired a turbolaser at them. A weapon designed to take out frigates, now aimed at a pair of stranded shuttles.

Drego had no mercy for the sith. No empathy for their soldiers.

Drego only had one thing on his mind. Hit back.

His ship swing around in the atmo, heading straight for the tower itself.

"Tanya, heading towards the Bull. Pull up and park us back in orbit." He said, efficient as always. He stood from his cockpit seat, and walked towards the small hanger he had modified into his B-wing, in favor of a crew compartment. Just enough to carry his beloved Speeder.

Pal Veda · 2025-11-01T12:57:25-0400

IMPLIED ODDS
Location: Voss-Ka
Objective: ~~Save the Mystics~~ Actually, let's just kick some ass, then we'll find the mystics
Opposition: Kinley Pryse

The smoke from the cheap Nar Shaddaa cigarette wafted through the air, the smell catching Pal's nose before he saw the hulking figure puffing away on the near-death stick. He stopped short and crept behind a garden statue, peaking around to see what he was up against. Looked like a lone footsoldier on a smoke break. But Pal knew if there was one goon here, there'd be more lurking about. Probably just inside the doorway. He lined up his shot, closed one eye, pressed his finger on the trigger, and . . . released his finger and lowered the blaster.

This wasn't a difficult shot for a gunman of his caliber. He could make it 10 out of 10 times with a Corellian ale in his left hand and three more in his stomach. But the IB-94 wasn't exactly quiet, and he was wary of tipping off anymore Black Sun mercs in the vicinity. Sneak attack? Sneak attack!

Pal pivoted back around his cover — a large stone monument of some long-dead mystic in a goofy robe holding a staff in one hand and an orb in the other — and quietly stepped toward the henchman. They were separated by about 10 meters, but the armored goon had his back turned, instead looking out toward the city.

One foot after the other. Slow and steady. Five meters now, closing in. Pal drew his vibro-knife and prepared to execute.

Skrrrrr….Static…."You missed your check in, Bunto. What's your status?"

What the hell? Pal looked down to see the comm unit he'd taken from the last thug he'd put a hole in was now talking to him. When he looked up, the hired gun was staring at him, cigarette in one hand, blaster in the other. "You ain't 'sposed ta be here. This's my patrol!"

Now this was lucky. Pal was a smuggler, bounty hunter, outlaw, all of the above, and more. So of course he was dressed like one of them. The lack of Imperial armor or Jedi robes helped him blend right in with these Black Sun morons. Think quick! That was his specialty.

"Ehh, sorry, mate," Pal stuttered, pretending to be surprised — well, he was surprised, but he was now pretending to be surprised for a different reason. "Got separated from my team." He kept stepping forward as he talked, trying to get closer to make a move. "I'm Bunto," he lied, repeating the name called out on the comm, "Got a cig I can bum?"

"Bunto, huh?" The big man flicked his exhausted cigarette on the ground and stared him down. "It's funny. I know a Bunto. He don't look like you."

Skrrrrr . . . "Bunto, check in!" Stupid comm wouldn't shut up.

"Why don't you check in, Bunto?"

Pal chuckled nervously, slid the vibro-knife back into its sheath, and retrieved the comm unit. "You're right, I should check in." They were now only about a meter apart. He brought the comm up, feigning raising it to his mouth to speak, but suddenly tossed it toward the thug. He didn't know how to react, hesitating, then lowering his blaster in a last second attempt to catch the device. This gave Pal just enough time to make his move. He leapt forward, putting all his weight into a hard kick that knocked the merc to his back.

PAUSE. Let's stop this for a second. As you all well know, Pal Veda is prone to exaggeration. Let's be honest here. Pal is a nice sized gentleman, standing just over 1.9 meters and over 86 kilograms of muscle. His Black Sun opponent was well over two meters tall and weighed closer to 100 kilograms. Plus the armor. So let's just tell the truth. That was a hard kick, but it did not actually knock the footsoldier to the ground.

UNPAUSE. Back to reality. The goon stumbled a bit, but he mostly absorbed the blow and stayed on his feet. Then he laughed. He actually laughed right in Pal's face. And if that wasn't enough, he threw his blaster down, steadied himself, then rushed Pal, tackling him to the ground. Our favorite action hero's favorite pistol came out of his hand in the fray, and the two men were suddenly in a wrestling match on the grass.

Pal worked to climb on top, but it was no use. He was pinned. His foe reared back and came down with a hell of a punch, but Pal managed to slide away just enough to protect his handsome face. CRACK! The thug grunted in pain as his fist made contact with hard ground, probably breaking a finger or two in the process. Pal took advantage of the momentary lapse and bridged upward, using all his strength to push the heavy moron up enough to slip out from under him. From here, Pal was able to climb around to his opponent's back and attempted to choke him from behind. Nope. A sharp elbow caught his left rib, knocking the breath out of him. He tried to hold on, but a second elbow to the same spot forced him to let go and slip off.

As the henchman tried to catch his breath, Pal located his blaster and started crawling toward it. A large hand caught his boot, stopping him in his tracks then dragging him backward. Pal flipped onto his back and kicked with his other leg, the boot striking the already injured hand of the hired gun, causing him to release his grip and howl. No use being quite now. Pal stretched out with his right hand, grabbed his pistol, and brought the barrel to face the Black Sun merc.

"Say hey to Bunto for me." PEW! PEW!

No more sneaking. No more wrestling. Just pull the trigger next time.

Varin Mortifer · 2025-11-01T14:59:39-0400

VOSS

Part of the ceiling came barreling towards her after his kick landed, sending her sliding back. But she was fast. He watched her roll back to her knees and expertly repel the rubble in his direction. Varin's eyes glared in the direction of the incoming stone, he stretched out his hand flexing his fist. Instantly the stone crumbled, falling into bits.

She had speed on her side, she displayed that again as she slid past him, her blades making contact with his leg, he didn't truly fall over. His control over the force into his body would have been able to prevent it, but she had timed it perfectly to where he had to drop the enhanced technique in order to crush the rubble.

The flat of her blades met his legs and with a grunt he was sent on his back. Quickly he pulled his mace up to guard his body as smoke spewed from his back in an attempt to obscure her vision. As the smoke poured he amplified his force signature to give the illusion he was all around her.

Reina Daival

Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory · 2025-11-01T15:13:28-0400

		
"The problem with legacies...is that it is up to those remaining to maintain said legacy," Amalia grinned ever so slightly, the corners of her lips curling upwards a bit, yet that grin, that facetious smile never truly reached her eyes. It was one of those things which made her hard to read, and why she had managed to not just gain a foothold with the N&Z within the Confederation, but effectively dominated its entire corporate landscape through high value loans, transference of political power within valuable industrial systems and now, she was keen to continue that success by bringing the influence of the N&Z Umbrella corporation in all its facets to Bonadan. "It is those who step up to take the place of a former leading figure that effectively dictate the very essence of their legacy."

With a gentle sigh escaping her lips, the woman's gray eyes slowly turned towards 
			 
		 Velzari Tharn
 , as far as she knew, this man was among the most notable, if not THE most notable figure within the Black Sun. While they may have had some beef with the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Confederation, this all mattered not in the eyes of the N&Z, which prioritized corporate connections over political ones, though granted...it did never eschew from gaining political power within its clients borders for the sake of said profitability and technological progress at all costs.

"The Mandalorian empire can always simply rely on the N&Z to provide the corporate power you speak of," Again the woman showed a seemingly trained smile, calm, collected and without much emotion, but the coldness in her eyes reflected the ruthless nature buried deep within, a remainder of the tutolage she had been given by her master and father figure, Credius Nargath. "What the Black Sun can offer through illegal and unsanctioned ways, the N&Z can offer without having to resort to racketeering schemes and black market deals. Though, should the Black Sun wish to set up a legitimite corporate presence, the N&Z wouldn't mind offering some semblance of assistance. While we are built on imperial principles...we do have some leeway in regards to corporate dealings." ​

		Marlon Sularen
 | 
			 
		Dominique Vexx
 | 
			 
		Velzari Tharn
 | 
			 
		Siv Kryze
 | @open

Reina Daival · 2025-11-01T15:20:57-0400

Tag:

Varin Mortifer
Location: Voss

This was her chance. To go in for the kill. As Reina prepared to thrust Whisperwind forward, to try and slide it past the Sith's guard...but the blade felt heavy in her hand all of a sudden. As if it was trying to resist her thrust. As if it was testing her resolve to kill. Why? Why did it have to be now? Why did it have to be against a Sith?! It gave Varin more than enough time to spew out the sudden plume of smoke, as Reina stepped back from, holding her blades close to her body, the vibroblade twisted off to a diagonal position whilst she kept Whisperwind closer to herself, relying on a defensive stance.

In the past, she would have slashed through the smoke. Used the Force to push it away from her. But as Varin amplified his force signature, Reina...closed her eyes. Focused on her own breathing slowly but surely as she turned her attention away from Varin's body. His position. Instead she focused on the smoke and air around herself. Every small disruption of the smoke, every small movement that disrupted it from its position. Wait and react. Listen and respond.

It was an improvement far from where Reina began. Do not focus on what you can see. Focus on what she could feel. Every small movement that disrupted the smoke, that moved through the air. It would only be a matter of time before someone moved. Be it Varin, or some secret foe that Reina had to deal with. But she was ready. Waiting. Like a gentle wave washing back and forth, waiting for the moment to turn into a storm.

Mercy · 2025-11-01T16:01:10-0400

Objective: 3
Tag:

Hasuras Na-Gerra |

Nero Drake |

Ranna Sejast
Allies of sorts:

Lysander von Ascania

The request had been simple: destabilize the trading route and support Wulbuck's revolution in the Maldrood Sector. Gerra was already making work of it out in space, but Mercy often preferred a more direct approach.

In this case what was the best way to support Wulbuck's new-found independence from the Axis Mining Company?

Exactly. Go straight to the AMC Headquarters and kill everyone inside the building.

It seemed like an obvious solution to Mercy, which is why she was surprised nobody else had thought of it. That is why Mercy was nowhere near Mining Post 3143. Instead Mercy and Lysander were both outside the corporate building that housed the main operation machinery of AMC. She had not explained to Lysander what they were doing here however.

That is because it was so obvious to Mercy she hadn't thought of explaining it.

"Are you ready?" She said as she peered up at the stately building. She had situated them in the back, near the parking garage for the employees, it was calmer here and would allow them to get in without too much hassle.

The real trouble would begin inside.

Dominique Vexx · 2025-11-01T17:08:29-0400

Dominique noted the Falleen Prince hadn't stopped her, or so much as raised a word in response. Either he was haughtier than she gave him credit for, or the insinuations weren't a bother. She'd bet on the latter. Everyone came out better that way. Yes, in fact, if a lack of response were to suggest something then perhaps the Black Sun had no horribly disruptive plans for the trade route. Nor should they. They benefited more from the flow of credits than by their stifling. Especially considering certain ties to Imperial interests? Well, much like Denon there was no point for a Syndicate to favor anyone in particular, but if someone were of use...

A minute later Dominique managed to pry the nameless one off to the crowd. Golden rings slid over the crowd until she found the Falleen harassing Siv of all people. The Mandalorian? They were a pragmatic people by far, but they did have a code of honor. Did Tharn expect more than a few entertaining barbs exchanged? Perhaps he wanted to discern the likelihood of Mandalorian response to them being in the region.

With a soft snort, Dominique returned to drift among those in attendance again. There were times when you engaged the power players, and times when you went after their support. The 'pawns' as it were. People that were hungry for influence and profitable exchanges they so rarely managed to attract. She was a people person that loved building relations. Siv was a capable sort, and this world was by far closer to the Mandalorian Empire than the High Republic. He'd manage.

As she drifted about the chamber, engaging in the customary acts of speaking of the departed and then checking on the well-being of those in attendance, Dominique found herself nearer a larger presence than most. "Grand Admiral Sularen. Or, should I say Supreme Commander? A pleasure to see the Imperial Confederation showing the flag here today. Bonadan could certainly benefit from the stability and security your presence along brings with it." The Estate aside, it wouldn't hurt if a connection was made with the Confederation. Even just the beginnings would do. "Did you know Lord Dowaran well?"

Marlon Sularen

Siv Kryze |

Tamsin Starfall | Open

Velzari Tharn · 2025-11-01T20:02:16-0400

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
D E A D - M A N ‘ S - H A N D

Velzari's lips were curled into a smile that didn't fade or falter as

Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory spoke. Black Sun's activities had not yet impacted nor required those of the N&Z Corporation, but the syndicate was not oblivious to its proliferation. Many galactic superpowers had come to enjoy contracts and trade deals with N&Z. What Miss Visconti said was not a lie; N&Z could certainly provide legal stability to the Bonadan system. Though when it come to criminal empires as vast and complex as Black Sun, the presence of legal frameworks and political stability have little impact on the syndicate's operations.

In fact, it was often arguably better for Black Sun to have such a well-defined playground. It thrived on coexisting with traditional governments, existing as a symbiotic parasite in the nooks and crannies of the justice system. This sort of arrangement was not new to the Mandalorian Empire. Velzari himself had brokered such a deal with Mand'alor

Aether Verd several months ago, marking the beginning of a slow but inevitable partnership between Mandalore's government and the unrouteable presence of Black Sun.

"I value your idealism, Miss Visconti," the Underlord said. His voice was measured and warm, contrasting the otherwise icy nature that usually befits a crime boss. "But why limit Bonadan when it has so much... potential?"

"The Mandalorian Empire already enjoys an agreeable partnership with Black Sun, one that the Mand'alor himself has blessed. Excising my organization from our pre-existing arrangement would be... most unwise."

A veiled threat obvious enough for an underling to read plainly, though when it comes to Black Sun, there is always an alternative. N&Z could be the stick in the mud, or it could benefit from the Underlord's network. Velzari was eager to see which choice Amalia would make tonight.

Tags: Vigos |

Siv Kryze | OPEN
Nearby, probably:

Tamsin Starfall

Marlon Sularen · 2025-11-01T20:55:10-0400

P R O P H E T_M O T I V E
Objective II : Dead Man's Hand

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
BONADAN, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

After Governor Visconti excused herself, Sularen watched as she interacted with two other prominent guests of the funeral that being the Warden of Concordia Siv Kryze and the Underlord Thran. As they conversed the Supreme Commander grabbed a drink from a nearby attendant while conveniently placing himself close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation while maintaining a considerable distance with his back facing them to make his eavesdropping less obvious.

The three way-conversation was nothing out of the ordinary, with Visconti, Kryze and Tharn simply trying to prop up their positions, with the Mandalorians establishing their position of seeking to preserve the stability of the Corporate Sector, Visconti offering the assistance of her company in helping the Mandalorians achieve that goal and Tharn trying to twist the situation to bring Bonadan under the influence of the Black Sun, which didn't surprise Sularen in the slightest.

With the conversation offering little of interest to the Supreme Commander, Sularen decided to move away from the trio in search for other individuals of interest to converse with. Fortunately for him, his boredom would find a cure as he was soon approached by a female individual whom he immediately recognized as the High Republic's Senator of Denon, Dominique Vexx. "Dominique Vexx i presume? It's a pleasure to meet you." he said as he extended his right hand for a handshake. "In a time when the galaxy finds itself being engulfed by more war and destruction, the Imperial Confederation remains committed to ensuring the preservation of order and security in the Outer Rim." he added.

"As for Lord Dowaran i didn't know him personally, but i do know people who did and they all spoke highly of him." he responded. "A man of compromise and reason who preserved the stability and independence of the Corporate Sector despite rising tensions across the galaxy." he further added. "Perhaps had we met, we would have gotten along very well." he finished, before taking another sip of his drink. "What about you? What brings you here to Bonadan? After all it's a long way from Denon."

[Direct Tag] |

Dominique Vexx
Tags [Nearby] |

Siv Kryze |

Aether Verd |