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

[Vestra Tane]

​

LOCATION : Ka-Voss, Tower of Prophecy
OBJECTIVES : Carnage, Profit
EQUIPMENT : Lightsaber, Disruptor Pistol, Respirator, Armorweave Coat, Hex Grip (right), Ashin's Glove (left)
TAGS : Ronhar Tane (Opposition)

Vestra felt them before she saw them - flittering, weak presences in the Force. About nine she could differentiate from one another, if she focused. Tense, but brave. Professional. Put together.

Imps, then, she figured.

She let herself enjoy her cigarra for the remainder of her solitude. Heavy footsteps, pounding up the stairs, confirmed her suspicions even before she caught sight of those trooper helmets - any half-competent Jedi traveled light.

Her head turned and her eyes flicked across each of her nine new victims. A little nervous, now. She could feel it in the Force as easily as she could see it in their posture. Smart, probably.

"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"

That made the Sith raise a brow and snub the cigarra out on the windowsill. She crushed the last dying embers with her right thumb, pushed herself off the wall, and turned on her heel to face the Captain of Reclaimer Squad, strutting up to her all by his lonesome.

Brave. Stupid, maybe. But brave.

Vestra liked brave.

"Vestra Tane. Sith Covenant. Black Sun."

Light caught the aurum implants where she'd lost teeth, glittering softly as her face split into a grin, and she let her left hand rest against the pommel of her lightsaber, secured snuggly to her hip.

"You care about your soldiers, Captain?"

 

[Darth Strosius]

​

Objective: Implied Odds, Steal Foresight
Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Naamino Zuukamano / Drego Ruus / Isobel Serraris
--------------------------------------------

Darth Strosius hummed at the offer of the younger Sith taking a turn hauling their prisoners around but dismissed the notion rather quickly. "Your offer is appreciated yet unnecessary. These Voss are not a particularly hardy sort, and certainly not these pampered Mystics." If need be He could theoretically carry the pair of them with one hand provided that He got a decent enough grip on them, although depending on where such a grip was their robes or their necks could give way too easily under such conditions.

Much better to just have one over each shoulder, even if it did mean both hands were occupied. It wasn't like these Voss had much left to fend them off with anyway, not this deep within the heart of their territory anyway. Besides, they would be gone the moment that the shuttles touched down to ferry them off world so it wasn't as if He'd be carrying them around for too long. But of course it was never quite that simple.

There was much to sense at the moment, the din of battle echoing within the Force around them, yet one presence did stand out as it arrived. Mostly because said presence wound up placing herself within their path, albeit a fair distance away. Nevertheless Darth Strosius stopped in His tracks, His visor trained on the figure emerging from the tree line. "Acolyte, ready your weapon." There was little room to argue with His tone yet of course there was no malice towards Naamino in His words.

Rather it would be pointed towards the Jedi before them. One who had the gall to espouse some nonsense then ask them to simply let the Voss go. It took the better part of a minute for the masked man to visibly react, as though expecting the Jedi to continue and reveal that she wasn't being genuine. Yet when no such reveal came He was forced to glance at the younger Sith at His side before looking back at the Jedi and silently reaffirming His grip on the Mystics slung over His shoulders.

"Zuukamano, if you would-" Whatever request He was about to make of the Acolyte fell as explosions rocked them from overhead, His gaze snapping up at an almost alarming speed to regard the exploding clouds left in the wake of a B-Wing's attack run. Exploding clouds which were no doubt meant to be their shuttles given their position and trajectory. "Ah. Well."

A hiss seethed through clenched teeth, with Him rather unceremoniously letting the two Mystics slip off of His shoulders. "You know, I must say it is such a rarity that I get asked anything so politely. I'm almost inclined to acquiesce." In a flash of movement He drew His lightsaber in one hand and ignited the crimson blade whilst the other wielded His sword. "Almost."

 

[Siv Kryze]

.​

DOBWAREN ESTATE, BONADAN​

​

Siv's visor turned slightly as Renn Vizsla entered the hall — the faintest nod passing between them. A silent exchange of acknowledgment, iron to iron. No words were needed; presence was enough. Mandalore did not send many, but those it did were never ornamental.

He returned his attention to the circle — Velzari Tharn , the Falleen's smirk as smooth as his ambition; Governor Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , poised between political caution and corporate poise. Their words circled power like vultures around a carcass, and Siv waited until the right silence fell to speak.

"Bonadan moves even in mourning," Siv began, his voice low but cutting through the hum. "The ledgers turn, the lights stay burning, the hands never stop reaching. Some call that resilience. Others call it survival."

He paused, glancing toward the rain streaking against the window — dark, oily, restless.

"But survival without purpose is just endurance without direction. Mandalore doesn't deal in that kind of chaos. We build where others scavenge. The Black Sun thrives through control. N&Z, through calculation. Mandalore through constancy. Together, those principles could do more than preserve Dobwaren's shadow — they could shape what comes after."

He stepped forward slightly, not in challenge but in clarity.

"The Black-Iron Pact wasn't forged for conquest. It was meant to keep the galaxy's foundations from collapsing under greed and drift. You each hold influence that stretches beyond this world. Mandalore offers the shield that makes that influence endure."

His tone softened, the iron beneath it tempered with reflection.

"No one's asking you to kneel. What I propose is alignment — not alliance. N&Z governs the flow, Black Sun guards the exchange, and Mandalore ensures stability when profit turns to conflict. Three pillars instead of one man's empire."

The lights flickered once from the storm outside, briefly washing his armor in silver.

"Bonadan was built on order," Siv said quietly. "Dobwaren understood that order is what gives strength meaning. If it's to survive, it must be rebuilt — not in his image, but in the image of those who understand what it costs to keep peace."

He inclined his head slightly toward Renn — a silent recognition of the shared creed that bound them — before turning his gaze back to the room.

"The rain on Bonadan never falls clean," Siv finished, voice lowering to a quiet edge. "But even in the filth, iron can be forged. That's why Mandalore is here — to see that what's rebuilt here lasts."

Tag: Marlon Sularen Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory Dominique Vexx Anet Raine Velzari Tharn Judah Dashiell Renn Vizsla + OPEN

 

[Seela Leini]

Location: Oort Cloud, Unspecified Star System - Perlemian Trade Route
Thread Objective: 3
Mission Objective:

• Intercept beskar smuggling convoy that is en route to Imperial space.
• Disable the beskar freighters for capture by the Kainate.

Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Tag: Van Trask
Call Sign: Fragile Dancer

Seela Leini had as a statue for more than nine hours. Seated in the cockpit of her Xarûl-class starfighter, the Twi’lek pored over the spectral readouts from the Nether Eye’s tactical display with a depth of focus that went beyond unaugmented humanoid limits. In the process, the Vrahlgeist synchronized with her intentions, easing the load on her cognition as it calibrated the starfighter’s systems, keeping the craft cold and dark on sensors while simultaneously being ready to activate its combat systems at a moment’s notice.

The timing of which could very well decide the success or failure of her assignment.

Her mission was to intercept a beskar smuggling freighter while it passed through the dense methane-ice comet field at the edge of the local star system. She would be the scalpel, tasked with disabling the freighter and destroying or distracting any accompanying escorts, so that Kainate forces could board the transport and capture the beskar held within.

Success would see another hoard of beskar—the Eternal Father’s rightful due since the purge of the Mandalorian race—brought to its consecrated home. Failure might see it arm an enemy at the very gates of the Holy Worlds.

To allow the latter to transpire, would be to fail the Eternal Father. As a devoted daughter of the Eclipsing Mission, Seela had no intention of allowing such a calamity to occur so long as she held the power to prevent it!

Spoiler: Loadout

Craft: Xarûl-class Sith Starfighter Mk. II

• Status
  
  • Shields: 100%
  • Hull: 100%
  • Structure: 100%
• Armament
  
  • Abyssal Lash Cannon Mk. I (2) - Wing Mount
  • Qorrak Heavy Lash Cannon Mk. I (2) - Ventral
  • Shriekfang Swarm Pod Mk. I (2) - Ventral
    
    • Ripple Shock Warhead Missile (6)
    • Fearburst Warhead Missile (6)
• Pilot Equipment
  
  • FAE/A-09 Anti-G Suit
  • KIIR-24 'Stormclaw' Gauss Pistol
    
    • Attachments
      
      • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Ammunition
      
      • 64 Round Quad-Chamber Magazine (4)
        
        • GC-01 Slugs (64)

 

[Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory]

Reaching for a small badge pinned upon the left breast pocket of her vest, worn like some sort of medal or broach, gently caressing it all the while maintaining that same unfeeling smile upon her face, Amalia listened to the words spoken by the Underlord Velzari Tharn . The veiled threat, the honeyed words, it all sounded so distant to her, as she knew that so many knew too little about the N&Z to truly know who or what they were dealing with. To think the N&Z would only provide a legal framework was the joke Amalia and her master found so hilarious. After decades of decay and decline, the current chairman of the board had turned the company's fortunes around, had expanded their influence on a massive scale, yet by doing so had covered the cracks through which the true image of the old N&Z was once visible. this shadow, this hidden truth had rebranded itself and now operated as a mystery within the very divisions of said corporation; Section C.

"Are you implying that the N&Z would not have the capacity to exploit the backhanded tactics and underhanded dealings the Black Sun is known for?" The Chief Executive Officer of the N&Z let out a soft, dry chuckle, her gloved hand lowering itself from the badge on her jacket, calmly taking a sip from the glass of liquor she had brought with her. "The Black Sun has recently made quite a few mistakes which I believe would not exactly be seen as opportunities for smart investments. It's a pity though, because I agree to the idea that the Black Sun has the potential for much greater growth, be it through legitimate or illegitimate ways."

Raising her glas a bit, as she smiled and tilted her head a bit, smacking her lips and grinning almost sheepishly, this time the smile actually managed to reach her eyes, but with that glint she also revealed the madness hidden deep within the belly of the beast she represented. "if we are to be three pillars to this place...I believe it is necessary for the Black Sun and Mandalore to finally know what and who they are dealing with. To finally settle any and all misgivings and mistrust between ourselves..."​

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

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Dress (link in post)
Concealed Blades: 2 Whimsy Knifes | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Fire and Smoke | Combat Gauntlets | Tessen | 2 Dissuader KD-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Others in the Objective: Velzari Tharn , Siv Kryze , Renn Vizsla , Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , Dominique Vexx , Marlon Sularen , Riven OPEN

---

The estate loomed through a curtain of acid-slick rain, its lights bleeding like bruises into the dark sky. Scherezade deWinter's boots, worn despite the fact that they did not really match the specific funeral-appropriate dress she'd decided to wear, splashed through the shallow, oily puddles on the outer terrace, leaving streaks that shimmered like fractured glass. She moved with the calm certainty of someone who knew they did not belong, but had decided to show everyone she did, nonetheless.

Her glowing green eyes flicked over the assembled guests, noting the rigid postures, the measured smiles, the whispered calculations. It was a dance, all of them pretending some form of control, each hiding claws beneath silks and polished uniforms. A faint smirk tugged at her lips. They're all so serious, she giggled internally, letting the wind catch the hem of her dark cloak like a signal flare.

For a moment, she tilted her head back, letting the rain sluice down her dark hair. The droplets ran over her skin and body scars, tracing lines like a map of chaos across the edges of her figure. She liked the smell, that sharp tang of wet metal, the quiet stink of ambition dampened by storm.

From the terrace, she could hear muted conversation, the occasional clink of glasses, the mechanical hum of holo-displays cutting through the storm's dull roar. Her hand brushed a hilt at her hip, reassuring herself. She was here, now, and everything else was secondary.

With a soft, almost mischievous sigh, she stepped toward the main entrance. Too many eyes she passed lingered just a beat too long, drawn by the impossibility of her presence. Though her dress was black, her eyes were green and glowy, and her body language screamed predator. Whatever the rules were, there was something inside her that made her think she could rewrite the rules if she wanted.

And the funeral, with all its delicate airs of respect and power, was about to become a little less predictable.

But Scherezade did nothing. She merely let herself be seen, the storm of her presence spreading subtly among the whispers and unspoken assumptions. Her eyes, dark and unrelenting, scanned the room and the edges of the crowd, drinking in the undercurrents of power, greed, and fragile alliances. The funeral's calm, polite veneer seemed thinner in her gaze, almost laughable in its pretense.

Her smirk widened imperceptibly. This funeral was not for the dead. It was not to honor anyone, even though so many of those gathered pretended it was. This funeral was about the living, and the claims they wanted to demand, either through words or power.

Scherezade removed her cloak and tossed it at the servant droid who stood by the door before she stepped further into the hall, ready to meet anyone or anything that would come her way.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Tags: Hasuras Na-Gerra Nero Drake Ranna Sejast
Sketchy Ally: Mercy
Weapons: Lightsaber | PGEM SMG

A jacket hung loose around the Sith apprentice's lithe frame, ebony fabric draped over a tunic that was too fine for the work ahead. The weave caught the glow of the passing holosigns in delicate ripples, a reminder that even when stripped of obsidian armor, Lysander could not quite shed the trappings of his bloodline. The leggings were cut close, supple and equally dark.. the kind of tailoring that whispered of wealth. He hadn't dressed for Mercy—Force forbid—but for himself, for even in a parking garage in the middle of nowhere, he would not be mistaken for some common thug.

The beige tactical bag suddenly felt heavier against his shoulders, the SMG inside shifting slightly every step. At his hip, beneath the lavish jacket, a PGEM slugthrower too was nestled, a private comfort.

As they walked, a thumb absentmindedly caressed a datapad, its glow painting his visage in a bluish light. A few lines would be tapped out before the inevitable storm.

Bel,

If I don’t write again, tell your stubborn Haneli tea it was the last thing I tasted worth remembering. Though if fate spares me today, maybe I’ll trouble you for another cup when next I wander close to Naboo.

Isobel Serraris

With one final click, the message was released into the digital abyss of the Holonet. Perhaps, it was a ritual of levity before the plunge of uncertainty. The corner of his mouth twitched, a note of mirth softened the lingering tension in his jaw, regaining some semblance of control.

Mercy stood beside him, and soon he followed her gaze up the face of the Axis Mining Company headquarters.

A monument of profit..

Their alliance was still young, brittle as glass.. and he knew it. The other Sith was chaos given flesh; more erratic than himself, and that was absolutely terrifying.

Still, it could hardly be any worse than their first encounter back at the Smokestack Row, located within the Ashline Terminal, when Fatine von Ascania and Naamino Zuukamano had been present.

A sigh escaped Lysander's lips, as he watched the datapad slip back into its bag. Any trace of warmth, was washed away by the cold mask of determination. His gaze darted sidelong at the woman, then quickly returned to the building before them.

His voice was low. “Ready as one can be for this sort of madness.” The faintest curl of irony surfaced. “If you are, then I am. Lead on.”

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique smiled as she reached out to accept the man's handshake. People wouldn't begrudge a woman from showing common courtesy and respect to those at a funeral would they? Politics couldn't possibly be more important than decency. Why, for all she knew, Dowaran and Sularen could have been close friends. Not that it was so -- as Sularen would soon reveal -- but you had to assume the best in these times.

That was the same sort of rationale she'd use to excuse meeting with a Sith Lord, of course. Life was too short to run around angry all the time -- not that it stopped the Sith. A Director of the Executive Board had to be a pillar of strength and a role model to her citizens of peaceful coexistence and cooperation. If an individual or their company turned out to be foes well there were times, places, and means of redress. A funeral or a wake was hardly one.

Credits didn't care about creed. And Denon was too large and too well positioned on trade routes to shut out half the galaxy.

"The pleasure is mine," she replied warmly.

"The Corporate Sector, in fact. Denon has long been a pillar in the corporate web of the galaxy, and while various priorities within it shift from time to time one never forgets a worthwhile partner. Lord Dowaran was a capable and shrewd businessman, and I would like nothing more than to continue his work here," Dominique agreed. "Bonadan may be far from the center of activity, but these far reaches have the most untapped resources. Be that mineral, agricultural, or intellectual. To neglect them is only to deprive ourselves of some of the greatest things our galaxy has to offer. Wouldn't you agree, Supreme Commander?"

"Should the Imperial Confederation ever require the services of Denon and its industries," be it mining, refining, manufacturing, or supplying of goods or services, "the same would be true for your worlds as well. Conflict may be inevitable between certain interests, but there are always those open to establishing strong relations to uplift the people." Was Dominique a dyed-in-the-wool Republic spokesperson, or was she merely couching corporate ambition in the swaddling of such? That would come down to how people interpreted her actions and their own biases. Denon might be working to rework its self image in providing to its people, and seemed to promote the good of the High Republic, but Dominique hadn't begun to crack down on industrial pursuits either; if anything, she welcomed corporations to make Denon her home as she always had.

Marlon Sularen
Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Siv Kryze | Velzari Tharn | Jorryn Fordyce | Anet Raine | Renn Vizsla | Tamsin Starfall | Riven | Scherezade deWinter​

 

[Kaine Hamilton]

P R O P H E T_M O T I V E
Objective III : Money Line

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
PERLEMIAN TRADE ROUTE, MID RIM

​

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

67TH PATROL LINE
Fleet Composition : INV Judicator INV Oathkeeper INV Vigilant
Starfighter Compliment : TIE/DA Defenders TIE/ja Jägers GAT-50 Blastboats

Admiral Kaine Hamilton silently watched as his flagship travelled through hyperspace, standing still his hands clasped behind his back. He along with Admirals Squesha, Zonill and Rakel had been deployed on a strategic operation along the Perlemian Trade Route with the objective of restoring order along the trade route and suppressing an uprising that had been launched by a rogue executive from a mining company in the Maldrood Sector near Centares.

It was a simple operation, one that would further test the capabilities of the Imperial Confederation's ever-growing navy which had already proved itself on multiple occasions against the naval forces of the Sith and the Galactic Empire at Brosi and Atrisia. As of now, Admiral Hamilton's line of warships was on it's way to respond to a distress signal from a civilian freighter that had reportedly come under attack by a group of pirates. Hopefully with any luck Hamilton's ships would be able to arrive just in time to confront the pirates and put an end to their ways once and for all.

However before they could reach their destination, alarms began to ring out throughout Hamilton's Light Cruiser as the crew suddenly went in full alert mode. "What's going on, Captain." he inquired. "HIMA systems just detected an interdiction field right ahead. We'll have to make an emergency reversion to real space before we're caught in the interdiction field." the Captain responded. "Has the rest of the fleet been notified?" Hamilton further inquired. "No, but they should also be aware of the situation and take similar measures as us." the Captain answered again.

"Reverting to real space in 3...2...1...brace for impact." the chief navigation officer cried out. Hamilton instinctively gripped the consoles at the very front of the bridge right as his Light Cruiser along with two others emerged from hyperspace. Once everyone had adjusted themselves, Hamilton took a while to examine his surroundings noticing that they were still in deep space far away from the source of the distress signal. It was at that moment that he spotted them, tiny dots far away in proximity to a rather large comet those dots looking slightly bigger then the bright dots that littered the empty void of space. "Gravity well mines." Hamilton muttered.

Someone was hoping to ambush them but fortunately they had reverted to real space before entering the range of the gravity wells. But that still meant that a hostile ship was out there somewhere waiting to leap at it's prey like a predator itself. "Man all battle stations and ready the starfighters." Hamilton ordered. "Someone is out there and they're eager to draw blood."

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Admiral Kaine Hamilton's fleet of 3 Light Cruiser prematurely drops out of hyperspace to avoid Hasuras Na-Gerra's gravity well mines
• Hamilton's Patrol line begins to prepare for an inevitable attack from whoever was trying to set an ambush.

Tags [Hostiles] | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Nero Drake | Aurellia
Tags [Friendlies] | Squesha | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel ​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VOSS​

Varin concentrated as he formed shapes within the smoke. Copies of himself began to wisp in the air, soundless and devoid of emotion. But their eyes still burned like coals. Spectres of silent death, a vision of what people would see before suffocating on smoke. But these would not strike to kill. They were merely to distract.

The only noises they would make were whispers. Though the words were jumbled and incoherent there was a dark influence behind them. An influence of doubt and hesitation. A cold embrace would outstretched its hand, an offering of mercy.

The ability would take a toll on Varin if this did not pay off. He could not use it for long, as he shifted his position away from Reina, a silent prayer left his lips as he threw his mace towards her. Almost as if practiced to muscle memory he drew his saber hilt and charged toward her, the saber roaring to life.

Reina Daival​

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: Varin Mortifer
Location: Voss

Wait and react. That was Reina's main thought process, as she kept her eyes closed. Ignoring the wisps as much as she could. The intent of harm was what she had to focus on. Those void of emotion would not give off that intention. Every emotion, no matter how subtle it was always left some kind of ripple. Some kind of sensation through the Force. The wisps did not have any of the sort. Reina sheathed Whisperwind for a moment, keeping her right hand tightly wrapped around the hilt, whilst keeping the vibroblade in her other hand as she waited.

Whispers. Incoherent whispers that meant nothing. Something was trying to tug at her emotions. At her mind. But Reina had been manipulated more than enough times by stronger Sith to have learned how to steady her mind. How to protect herself. Mercy was something that could be granted to the dead. Not the living. Her guard was not something she'd ever let down again.

That's when she felt it. A sudden wave of murderous intent, and the sensation of something heavy moving through the smoke. She reacted without a moment of hesitation, stepping off to the side of where she had been stood and slashing the vibroblade towards the disruption in the air, being met with the sound of the vibroblade shattering into dozens of pieces, shrapnel of metal slashing against her face.

Yet some of the metal shards hovered, as Reina contained them within the Force. Levitating them as she flickered her hand in the direction of where she heard the Lightsaber coming from, sending the shards hurtling in Varin's direction like various small razor sharp frisbees. Whilst once again, Reina swiftly drew Whisperwind out of its Saya with nary a sound to clash against the Lightsaber.

"You might want to look at finding a way to conceal the sound of your Blade. Friendly bit of advice."

She couldn't help the smirk that flickered across her face for a moment. There was something far more enjoyable fighting a Sith on what felt more like equal terms. She had evolved far more compared to when she originally fought as a "Jedi". Force techniques, weapon techniques. No longer was she just relying on instinct, she had the techniques and practice to help push her onwards.​

 

[Marlon Sularen]

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

​

As Senator Vexx went on to explain the strategic importance Bonadan held and further opened the possibility of building a working partnership between Denon and the Confederation, Sularen came to understand why she held such a high position within the corporate arena. Her words were sound and convincing, and coincidentally enough the Supreme Commander himself had been seeking out new corporate partnerships outside the N&Z Umbrella Corporation to further stabilize and strengthen the Imperial Confederation's economy.

While there was indeed room for potential conflicts of interests especially with Denon's placement within the Royal Naboo Republic, a democratic state which might hold a negative view towards Imperial regimes in general given their current conflict with the Galactic Empire. However that was a problem that could be addressed at a later date once if such conflict of interest occurred. For now, as long as there was room for a genuine partnership between the Denon Corporatists and the Confederation, Sularen would welcome it with open arms and work to see such a partnership realized.

"Most certainly. I see no reason to neglect a world that has so much too offer to the galaxy, although in these uncertain times such potential might often attract the wrong kind of attention." the Supreme Commander stated, alluding to the possibility that other galactic governments might try to exploit Bonadan's vast potential for themselves. "That being said i look forward to seeing how you continue the late Lord Dowaran's work as the Confederation will always be open to providing assistance in such endeavors, for the sake of Bonadan's stability and prosperity of-course." he added.

"Furthermore, given that we have already engaged in negotiations with various corporation and governments in the search of mutually satisfactory investment and trade agreements, the Confederation would naturally be interested in discussing a similar accord with Denon as we could always use more economic partners to assist us in further stabilizing and strengthen our economy" he further added, expressing interest in Vexx's proposal for a two-way trade agreement between Denon and the Confederation.

[Direct Tag] | Dominique Vexx
Tags [Nearby] | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Siv Kryze | Velzari Tharn | Srina Talon | Jorryn Fordyce | Anet Raine | Aether Verd | Renn Vizsla | Tamsin Starfall | OPEN ​

 

[Jared Starchaser]

Jared was not one who really worried about payback, but when it was coming his way? Well, who was he to say no to that? Not a traditional Jedi, but he did support the light side and did what he could. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to come and take some shots at dark siders when the moments arose.

Especially after Kattada.

His ship made its way to Voss as there was something happening there. Something big. And he was going to be a part of it. The modified TIE Exalt that he flew, painted in a sea-foam green, landed a ways from where he needed to be. Sith and Black Sun working together? Jared didn’t care for the former, didn’t quite mind the latter. But when the Force was being used to hold people hostage? Yeah, he was going to step in.

Lightsaber and new blade on his person, he was hoping he could get back at some of the Sith that came for his world. And free the Voss-ka, after all. Breaking into the Tower was more a matter of the right Force distractions at the right time, but seeing hte Voss getting thrown to the floor?

That … yeah it was the same one.

“Maybe not the best move you could have made.” He called from his spot in the shadows, a ways above, on a ledge.

Arris Windrun

 

[Ranna Sejast]

Objective: Play With Pirates!
Location: Mining Post 3143
Equipment: Beskar'gam, Enclave Bowie Knife, Blaster Pistols
Ship: Kom'rk-Type Fighter-Transport
Tags: Nero Drake

​

Ranna laughed at the rough sounding pirate's threat. Someone had been watching a few too many holos. Or did that actually work on the captains of lightly armed pleasure cruisers? She kept her speed up, pulling her ship through a series of wide turns around the asteroid base's exterior. As she did, she triggered the forward cannons, blazing away at the mining outpost's few defensive emplacements along with anything else that stood out to her.

She waited for the fighters to form up on her six before opening up with the kom'rk's twin rear-facing solar ionization cannons. The energy hungry cannons weren't her favorite, but they packed a huge punch and bypassed most shielding. Hopefully that surprise would keep the pirates froggy as she came around the base with the intent to strafe the mining post's hanger with her ship's belly launchers. Technically she'd only been supposed to deliver the Mandalorian commandos, but why not stick around and wreak havoc? Besides, these fighters chasing after her ion tail might have more friends preparing to launch and reinforce them. Taking them out on the hard was much preferable to facing them in the black where they could turn the tables against her.

​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Darth Carnifex //:
//: Attire //:
//: Equip in Sig //:

Stalking the Butcher King was something she had done back when she was a Jedi. It was her mission, forever following his shadow, searching for a way to end his life. Even now, despite the deal they had struck, she wanted him to bleed — to give away what she felt was hers. It was the way of the Sith, and she, even with his absence, was the Hand of the Emperor, now Empress.

Though to her knowledge, the Butcher held favor to the Empress of the Sith. Troublesome for the Assassin, but enough for her to hesitate. Again, this was their game, and she fell in line quite easily. Allyson felt his eyes upon her, despite her skill with stealth, Kaine Zambrano had already learned her scent. He could feel her, where others couldn't.

She hated that, but she welcomed it.

"You caught me, a bit slower though this time." She quipped as the shadows wavered, revealing the outline of the Corellian. Her mission during the attack on Atrisia had brought her far from the conflict — a frustrating outcome. Still, she knew she needed to handle some unfinished business.

Sadly, it remained unfinished.

Stepping out of the building, her eyes flickered towards the new toy the man had brought out. It sucked in the essence of its kills, and a sharp, low whistle echoed from the woman's lips. Tilting her head, she looked back towards the man.

"You've been busy, would rather use new toys than take life yourself?" He was always one for his theatrics; Allyson figured this was another.

"Our deal, kind of hard to do now." She mused, looking around at the rest of the city, which almost reminded her of one of their last fights — though she hoped the duracrete would be kinder to her.

"Valery's gone, don't know where she's run off to — the Alliance is a shadow of what they were, and the New Jedi Order is a bunch of children."

Allyson relayed the information, figuring the King already knew the state of his enemies. Her words hung for a moment as she held the bow; an arrow materialized from the specialized glove.

"So, are you willing to renegotiate, or do I get to finally bury both of us?" A grin swept across her face, and darkness bled from her presence. She was no longer the righteous hero, the one who would sacrifice herself above all else.

No, Allyson had allowed herself to fall, to wrap her fingers around the strength of the Dark Side. She had finally seen her path forward, and this was it…

It always had been.

Just as He foretold.

The arrow nocked, the tip finally forming through her manipulation of the machine. Quickly, she fired at the base of his feet; the explosion would rock the small space between them. Allyson used this moment to find another place to hide and to draw another arrow.

Carnifex knew her tricks better than most; she was ready for him.

"Let's have a good time, old Friend"

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //: Riven //:
//: Attire //:

They were in traffic.

It was completely Quinn's fault, but Mauve could have said no. Quinn wasn't the type to not get her way in most situations, but this time it caused issues. Her eyes watched the slog of speeders move more slowly than a trail of banthas trying to cross a valley. They should have left an hour ago, but again, Quinn could never take no for an answer.

Looking to the woman beside her, she offered a sheepish smile.

"At least we'll make an entrance?" Quinn was doing her best, but she knew she had messed up in this situation. Even being the Princess of the Sith Order wouldn't get them there any faster.

Leaning back in her seat, her hand gently patted around, searching for the Zeltron's. "I did say I was sorry…" she offered, trying to find a way to make this better. Her head tilted, trying to think of a different angle — one that was more favorable to her.

"You did have fun, though." Quinn teased as she leaned closer to the Zeltron. "And you do look beautiful for a funeral… speaking of." She mused and looked out the window.

"We might be able to get some eyes on it while we're stuck in traffic."

Something was known in her tone as she watched the window again. A part of her had hoped the Eldorai had made her way carefully to a vantage point. It was good to have people in high places.

The driver turned around and looked at the two women, "We're close… not much longer."