Faction Counting Credits [OPEN TO ALL!]

[Liin Terallo]

Liin's eyes drifted briefly toward the ongoing bidding war as R'ayne spoke. The price had climbed to a point where practicality had long since abandoned the conversation. Neither bidder seemed willing to surrender now. Not because the object itself had become more valuable, but because losing had become more expensive than winning. It was a familiar phenomenon. The faintest hint of amusement touched her expression. "You're assuming they know the difference."

Her gaze lingered on the artifact a moment longer before returning to the woman beside her. "Between value and price, I mean." The distinction often disappeared once enough people began competing for something.

The auctioneer's voice rose again. Another bid. Another ripple of approval through the gathered crowd.

Liin took a small sip from her drink. "You may be right, though." Her eyes followed the movement of the room thoughtfully. "Most people arrive at events like this already knowing what they intend to purchase." Or who. Or what influence. Or what opportunity. The item itself was often secondary.

When R'ayne finally offered her name, Liin inclined her head politely in return. "Miss Asara." The name settled easily enough. Yet something about the way it had been spoken lingered strangely. Not suspicious. But merely careful. Like an object being lifted from storage after a very long time. She chose not to comment on it. People carried histories. Some were simply heavier than others.

Instead, her attention shifted toward the auction floor once more. "You speak as though you already know what the evening's most valuable item will be. Which means one of two things." Her grey eyes moved back toward R'ayne. "Either you've done considerably more research than everyone else in this room...." The corner of her mouth twitched slightly. "....or you're exceptionally confident." Neither possibility seemed particularly unlikely.

For a moment, silence settled comfortably between them. Then Liin glanced toward one of the nearby displays, where a collection of corporate memorabilia sat beneath protective transparisteel. Old prototypes. Research artifacts. Pieces of forgotten projects. N&Z had always enjoyed celebrating it's successes. It's failures tended to disappear more quietly.

"I confess," she said after a moment, "I'm not entirely certain why I came tonight." The admission escaped more easily than she expected. "My invitation sat unanswered for weeks." Her gaze wandered across the hall again. "I suppose I wanted to discover whether this place still felt familiar." A thoughtful pause followed. "And whether it remembered me." The words were spoken lightly enough, though not entirely as a joke. For the first time since arriving, Liin found herself genuinely curious about the answer.

Tag: R'ayne Asara

 

[Aleratha Tel'alith]

​

Location: Ash World space
Ship: Thor'aluq
Clothes: Armor look and base Suit
Tags: Jolly Walker | John Mahporeem

Aleratha paced on the upper bridge of her ship Thor'aluq The providence was an older one of Werr Drive Yards manufacture, not one of the new ones or retrofitted ones. Sighing This thing is getting refitted when I get back to Taris's moon Thalmari.

Through Illithor Du'thra word had travelled to Aleratha that the Imperial worlds biosphere was in shambles to put it lightly. A great opportunity to use Tel'alith Labs terraforming tech. But another opportunity had arisen, a derelict space station within the Ash Worlds rumored to have a lot of valuable things.

The streaking stars past the windows were a calm reminder of space travel. But she was uncomfortable with wearing armor, even a suit like this was weird. But also comforting that for heading to the station if the shuttle needed to do evasive maneuvers there was no chance of losing consciousness.

Her musings were interrupted by a female Sephi's hologram "Your grace, we are just about to drop out of hyperspace at the target."
Aleratha looked at the new hologram of the captain and nodded "Noted. Thank you."

The Thor'aluq dropped out of hyperspace emblazoned with a large white slashing stripe with black and yellow ones within. Followed by a green Stripe for the Confederacy of Free Worlds. Her ship had plenty of landing craft, along with HMP's to help ferry B2-SH4V6's into the station along with the B1-3AR2's and a small contingent of Sephi scientists, guards, and engineers. Vulture droids flanked their retinue, while others found perches on the hull waiting. The intel passed along said there would be automated defenses along with the station being abandoned for a long time...

Aleratha stood looking over the scans coming in of the local space and of what they could penetrate of the station as another holo appeared of a male military uniform clad Sephi "Your grace, There is three smaller vessels sending ships for boarding the station... and the station opened itself up as we are watching... Orders?"

Crossing her arms Hmmm... auto opened, that's not normal. Her pondering face giving way after a slight pause "Begin boarding a different area, stay away from them. I will try to get them on comms." Her right hand came to her chin This has to have something going on. Especially to be abandoned for so long.

Typing in the range and frequency to hail the vessels she opens the holo comms "Hello. My name is Aleratha Tel'alith, CEO of Tel'alith Labs. We are not here to fight you. But something seems off. I assume you are here chasing the same rumor of technology or just straight riches?" Now all she had to do was wait for their reply.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

---

C O U N T I N G_C R E D I T S
Objective II - Here comes the Money

FINAL DAWN
MAHPOREEM, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

---

It had been a while since Sularen had set foot on Mahporeem proper or even attended an auction. The Imperial Junk World had become one of his closest partners ever since it joined the Imperial Confederation, and even after the Confederation's collapse, Sularen still maintained close ties with Mahporeem, who were willing to cooperate with him and the Final Dawn to bring forth a new age of Imperialism across the galaxy. Already he had the pleasure of having some of Mahporeem's finest, such as Ronhar Tane and Vorin Zonill, serve him, and Mahporeem had proven itself time and time again to be an extremely reliable and capable partner.

As such, when Sularen caught wind of the N&Z Umbrella Corporation's Auction on Mahporeem, Sularen was quick to make his way towards the Junk Planet to participate in the auction as a mere observer, hoping to see who might attend the auction and potentially make new connections that could be beneficial for his growing Final Dawn. Based on his prior experiences with the Black Sun's auctions, Sularen knew well that oftentimes powerful and influential figures could be found at certain auctions, and if he was lucky enough, he'd find someone interesting enough to strike up a conversation with.

Soon enough, the Supreme Commander would find himself within the N&Z Corporation's Field HQ on Mahporeem, looking down at the many items that were up for auction. They were impressive pieces of technology, which of course was no surprise given the capabilities of Mahporeem's very skilled engineers, whose products had helped the Imperial cause on numerous occasions. While Sularen had no interest in purchasing any items, he remained eager to see who else might place bids on said items. Until then, he would continue to wander around and observe tonight's events as they would proceed.

---

Tags | Galen Tagge | OPEN​

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Mahporeem, N&Z regional headquarters
OBJECTIVE: draw the attention
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: Marlon Sularen , Galen Tagge , Liin Terallo | R'ayne Asara | et all

Where power resides, Hunger follows

While the festivities were already well under way, people socializing and bantering, others fervently trying to have a look at the wares and the items up for grabs in the auction, the doors to the large space opened, as a gust of cold air and dread wafted through the entirety of the room.

A combination of deep, strong thuds on the floor and the rhythmic sound of heels clacking upon the marble would draw in all the attention. A tall, young and strangely intimidating man entered the arena of suckups and socialites, flanked by a woman bearing the countenance of a stone cold killer, the face of calculated corporate conduct visible in her eyes, her thin smile and her impressive attire.

They exuded power, wealth and status, yet where those who were known in the corporate arena were certainly aware of the woman's identity being that of Amalia Visconti; CEO of the Nargath and Zanareth Umbrella corporation, the man next to her had to have been a tougher guess for most. Perhaps a few would be able to envision the man with gray hair, with more wrinkles and more well-groomed facial hair, perhaps some would be capable of noticing eyes that while hidden behind a pair of shades exuded power and desire, an unnatural gleam of crimson and golden hues tucked away behind red-tinted glasses.

With a nonchalant, uninterested gait, the man passed several a highborn socialite, high ranking military men and warlords without as much as giving them even the courtesy of a single glance in their direction. Clearly hard to approach and perhaps even harder to reproach, the man and his high ranking companion managed to find themselves at the center of the room, when suddenly the man retracted his arms from his pantaloon's pockets, raising the gloves appendages upwards before calmly, with a sort of sinister slowness, beginning to resolute clap those hands together.

"I believe the Auction did not state there would not be any private items brought in for auctioning either," Reaching for his pocket, the man pulled out a vial containing a strange, black liquid. "I firmly believe some of you might be very interested in having a weapon beyond the limits of your imagination..."

 

[Mika Tai En]

Location: N&Z regional headquarters, Mahporeem
[OBJECTIVE II: HERE COMES THE MONEY]
Attire: Black/Burgandy suit
Tags: OPEN
Mentioned: The Lord of Hunger

Mika Tai En entered the auction hall dressed like she owned nothing and commanded everything. Reddish-purple hair fell in a heavy braid over one shoulder, loose strands framing a pale, freckled face and green eyes that watched too much, too quietly. Her fitted black-and-burgundy attire clung with noble severity, high-collared and embroidered in delicate gold-veined patterns that looked almost like cracks through obsidian. Gloved hands, narrow waist, dark leather trousers, and trailing translucent skirts gave her the shape of some young court specter pretending at wealth.

She was not rich. Not compared to the people in this room. But Mika had never mistaken wealth for power. A Moff without overflowing coffers was still a Moff. A leader without jewels was still obeyed. Credits were useful, certainly, but she had seen men with fortunes kneel before those who possessed only conviction and violence.

Still, one had to participate. Her gaze passed across the displays until it settled on one of the Nachtfalke Modell S pistols. Elegant. Compact. Symbolic enough to justify the bid, practical enough not to be embarrassing.

Mika wrote her name and a modest bid onto the holopad. Not a winning bid, perhaps. Not yet. Enough to enter the game.

She accepted a drink from a passing droid and held it without tasting, drifting through the party with the restrained patience of someone still learning how not to seize everything that caught her eye. Conversation moved around her in soft currents. Executives. Soldiers. Opportunists. Predators in formalwear.

Her attention kept returning, however, to the Lord of Hunger and Amalia Visconti. The owners of the building. The hosts behind the evening’s polished mask. Mika studied them longer than courtesy allowed, then looked away before it became challenge.

Interesting.

Eventually her gaze selected a nearby attendee who seemed neither entirely comfortable nor entirely foolish. Mika stepped closer, glass still untouched in her hand.

“Tell me,” she said softly, eyes briefly flicking back toward their hosts, “do you think tonight is truly about selling weapons?”

A faint smile touched her lips.

“Or are we all simply being weighed?”

Spoiler: “Loadout”

• Weapons
  • Kurokage – Primary standard lightsaber – Violet blade
  • Yorukage – shoto lightsaber – Red Wine blade

 

[Galen Tagge]

​

Location: N&Z regional headquarters, Mahporeem
[OBJECTIVE II: HERE COMES THE MONEY]
tags: Marlon Sularen The Lord of Hunger Mika Tai En


Is this worth it? Yes every credit will be worth it. Or at least that's what Galen was gas lighting himself into believing. It had been quite a while since Galen had been to an event like this. Almost a year. The wares weren't all that useful. But they were quite fabulous, the blasters especially, and that ARMOR. That would look good in my office. he thought to himself, its beauty being too much for any real battle. It was then Galen accidentally bumped into him. Supreme Commander Sularen. Galen wasn't necessarily surprised he was there of course, he was more surprised that he hadn't noticed him until now. Its hard to hide that bright red uniform he is so dear proud of. It was awkward. Galen and him had been on different sides during the war against the Galactic Empire. But Galen didn't hold anything against him, after all he lost his Confederation just as much as Galen lost his Empire. This will surely be a conversation for the books.

 

[R'ayne Asara]

here comes the money

[]

Queen of Hearts

Tag > Liin Terallo

I watched the auction continue to unfold through half-lidded eyes, a faint smile curling upon my lips like a shadow stretching across a forgotten tomb. "Research is the key to everything," I said, amusement dancing beneath my words. "Only blind fools rush headlong into the storm, mistaking motion for wisdom, while the patient gather fragments of truth from the darkness and weave them into understanding."

My fingers traced idle patterns in my cold drink as voices and bids echoed through the chamber. "Sadly, I possess no secret track into this affair, no hidden whisper carried through unseen channels. Like everyone else, I must simply wait and watch."

A soft, almost playful laugh escaped me then, though there was something ancient and unsettling beneath it.

"Yet I know precisely what holds value to me here, and I suspect none gathered within these walls will comprehend its worth. Credits are fleeting things; cold numbers that vanish like dust upon a cosmic wind."

I paused long enough to take a sip of my drink, savoring the blends and mixtures of flavors. "What I seek possesses a far older gravity, a significance that cannot be measured, purchased, or understood by those who have forgotten how to look beyond the surface of their own greed."

A quiet chuckle escaped my lips again as two bidders all but collapsed over one another in their desperate struggle for supremacy, their pride bared more nakedly than any sharpened edge could ever expose. Around them the auction hall pulsed with restless anticipation, a congregation of ambitious souls circling unseen depths they neither comprehended nor feared enough.

How amusing it was to watch them fling fortunes into the void, believing victory belonged to the loudest voice or the deepest purse. In truth, the galaxy had always favored subtler predators.

Tilting my head slightly, I regarded Miss Terallo through the shifting haze of lights and shadows. "This is familiar to you," I mused, curiosity threading itself through my words. My red gaze drifted slowly across the hall, passing over faces and whispered conspiracies only auctioneers could understand before returning to her. "No, not just familiar but remember you?"

My attention remained fixed upon Miss Terallo, studying her as one might study an ancient inscription partially buried beneath centuries of dust. There was something intriguing about her presence, something that seemed oddly misplaced amid the greed and hunger saturating the chamber.

"Well," I said softly, raising my glass in a toasting gesture, "if you answered the invitation, perhaps there is a reason you are here now, even if that reason remains concealed from you."

Beyond us, the auctioneer's voice rose and fell like a distant funeral hymn while unseen currents stirred beneath the surface of fate's vast ocean. "Perhaps destiny guided your steps. Perhaps fate did. If you subscribe to such mythic notions, of course."

A faint smile touched my lips, equal parts playful and enigmatic. "Or perhaps the universe simply enjoys arranging peculiar meetings." My eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Whatever the cause, Miss Terallo, I suspect your presence here this evening may prove to be a life-changing experience."

Another quiet laugh followed. "Hopefully one you will not be required to bid
on."
​

 

[Liin Terallo]

For a moment, Liin considered the possibility that R'ayne might be right. Not about fate for she had never placed much trust in forces that required interpretation after the fact. But about peculiar meetings. The galaxy seemed unusually fond of arranging those. A faint smile touched her expression as she lowered her glass slightly. "I worked here once," she admitted. "Or close enough to here that the distinction only matters to accountants and lawyers." Her gaze drifted across the auction floor. "N&Z was....complicated." The understatement almost amused her. Research contracts. Laboratories. Endless proposals and reviews. Discoveries that had once seemed important enough to consume entire years of her life. Looking around now, it all felt strangely distant. Familiar, but no longer hers.

"You asked if this place remembered me." Liin's shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "I honestly don't know anymore." A few years ago she would have known exactly how many people in this room recognized her face. How many were watching. How many were reporting her presence to someone else. Now?. Nothing. No whispers. No sudden attention. No security personnel appearing at inconvenient moments. Perhaps she had finally become what she had always wanted to be. Ordinary.

The thought had barely settled when movement near the front of the hall caught her attention. Liin's gaze shifted automatically toward the newest arrival approaching the presentation platform. The change was subtle. So subtle that most people would have missed it entirely. Her faint smile disappeared. Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the stem of her glass. A small transparent vial had been presented for auction. Something biological, judging by the display. Something rare. But Liin was no longer looking at the item. She was looking at the man holding it.

The room seemed quieter suddenly. Not because the conversations had stopped. But because memory had become louder. Pursuit. Flight. Safehouses abandoned overnight. Laboratories destroyed before others could reach them. The constant awareness that someone, somewhere, was searching for her work and everything attached to it. For her.

Liin remained perfectly still. The Lord of Hunger had not seen her. At least, she did not think he had. Yet her pulse had already reached a different conclusion.

Only then did she realize several seconds had passed without her responding. Slowly, her attention returned to R'ayne. Though not entirely. Part of it remained fixed across the room. Watching. Measuring. Preparing. Just in case. "...If the universe arranged this meeting," Liin said quietly, her eyes lingering for one final moment on the distant figure before returning to her companion, " then it appears to have a rather unfortunate sense of humor."

Tags: R'ayne Asara The Lord of Hunger

 

[Jolly Walker]

John Mahporeem | Aleratha Tel'alith
​

Strange.

That was the first thing that came to mind when the pirate looked out of the boarding pod's viewport. Intel suggested that the station was supposed to be abandoned...so why in the hell did the hangar doors just open? Regardless, the pods were too close to turn back now. And there were credits inside to be earned. Operating through his earpiece, Jolly directed half of the boarding pods to enter through the hangar doors, while the other half would divert and access the station further down. Conquer and divide.

Soon the TIE/SKs split off, leaving only the boarding pods to enter into the hangar. The vessels came flying through, preparing for a hot entry. Touching down, the doors opened, as a small company of mercenaries flooded the hangar bay. Jolly strolled along inquisitively, searching for anything that may have brought the station back to life.

Through his ear, he heard that the other half of the pods breached the station's hull and were fanning out. Excellent.

"Captain Walker, do you copy."

His Quartermaster, Keys , spoke to him through his cybernetic implant.

"What is it?"

"We've got company. Big company."

Turn around and gazing through the energy shielding, the pirate watched as the Dreadnought slowly drifted into view. Shit. Last thing any of his crew needed was people getting in his way, Imperial or not. A small ring alerted him that they were trying to hail his fleet. Directed from the Carriers, the transmission was patched through.

"This is Bodan , Imperial Grand Moff. My troopers have breached the station's hull. We are not here to fight either, but we do not need you interfering with our operations. What we are here for is none of your concern. Let us complete our mission, and then the station is yours."

With a click the pirate turned off his voice modulator. It was a recent cybernetic enhancement, and it was proving to be very useful. He was sure that his Imperial association would not mind if he used his voice for operations such as these, especially when secrecy was a must.

For now, the pirate crew would advance deeper into the station, searching for whatever treasure they may find.

 

[John Mahporeem]

[??????]
[REDACTED]
[OBJECTIVE III: SPACE ODDITY]

<"Well now, THIS is just a fine problem to have!">

<"Normally, I'd be quite pleased to have more flesh bags to play with. But these new flesh bags brought...dare I say it...droids with them! What am I supposed to do with droids? I can I experiment on their flesh if they have no flesh for me to work with! What a disaster!">

<"They brought a pretty big ship with them too. Must be someone pretty important. I don't really care, of course, since they'll be dead soon enough. As much as I wanted to stay hidden for a bit longer, it looks like I'll have to show my hand a bit earlier than anticipated.">

<"No matter. I can make this work. It'll all be worth it once those damn cruisers are little more than floating pieces of scrap. Plus, I don't think they'll destroy this station even if I fire at them. It's simply to valuable. I think I'll be fine.">

<"To bad I can't say the same for these flesh bags!">

Apparently, "abandoned" didn't mean "unarmed", as Jolly Walker and Aleratha Tel'alith was about to find out.

The station suddenly roared to life, various systems powering up as Aleratha's ship arrived in the system. Clearly, her being here must have triggered some kind of alert throughout the station, as its automated defense systems began coming online one by one. With barely any warning, batteries of turbolasers, laser cannons and ion cannons suddenly began firing at Thor'aluq and Sepulcher-class Strike Carriers that had intruded upon the station's rest, as dozens of old TIE/D Droid Starfighters began streaming out from the station itself, having remained deactivated for decades if not centuries. Still the passage of time had done nothing to dull their senses, and the ships moved and fought as if they were new. Clearly, someone, or something, had dutifully maintained them for all this time.

Yet, as sudden as the station's onslaught was, it apparently did not extended to the Reaver-class Boarding Pods, which were allowed to pass inside of it unharmed and unopposed. The moment the last pod entered, however, the station's doors suddenly slammed shut, refusing to budge open unless forced to do so.

Inside the station, Jolly Walker and his crew would encounter a scene straight out of a horror novel. The lights inside flickered on and off, and the whole station itself was in a massive state of disarray, with overturned furniture scattered all across the landing zone. Dried bloodstains could be seen scattered all over the floor, accompanying scratch and claw marks all etched deeply into the station's walls. Perhaps most worryingly were the skeletons scattered about the room, many in various states of decay and decomposition. Were they station workers? Some still had their keycards attached around their necks, though most of them looked like they were trying to leave the station from the position of their bodies.

There wasn't a single living thing inside this station...save for one.

He was wearing an incredibly old and dilapidated set of Stormtrooper Armor, yellowed from the passage of time and lack of maintenance. His back was turned to Jolly's forces, and he made no attempt to greet or talk to Jolly's men. His hands simply dangled on either side of his body, and he remained hunched forward, his head just out of view. Next to him lay his helmet, which he had apparently taken off and thrown on the floor for some reason. Clearly, something was very wrong.

The Stormtrooper suddenly jolted upright, and turned around the face Jolly's party. He started to shamble forward, and after taking a few steps into a more well lit area, the gruesome details of his situation was revealed. The Stormtrooper was very much NOT alive, yet somehow still moved as if he was.

He was...an undead!

The station that Jolly and Aleratha had boarded was no simple research station: it was a site that had hosted experiments for Project Blackwing, an old Imperial program seeking to unlock the secrets of immortality. What they had unlocked instead was something far more sinister, but perhaps they made some progress that the other sites hadn't?

The zombie lunged forward at Jolly, intending to bit him and take a massive chunk out of his neck. Trapped aboard the station, Jolly would need everything he had if he wanted to survive. But would he seek to escape as soon as he could, or would he venture deeper in to find more data on this top secret Imperial project?

TAGS:
Jolly Walker
Aleratha Tel'alith
OPEN

 

[R'ayne Asara]

here comes the money

[]

Queen of Hearts

Tag > Liin Terallo

The Force did not whisper its customary warnings to me, nor did it coil about my thoughts with the subtle insistence of a lurking monster. Yet Miss Terallo's unease was no less apparent for the absence of supernatural revelation.

Her posture carried a strain that reminded me of old durasteel supports buried beneath forgotten cathedrals, still standing only because collapse had not yet received formal permission.

A tightening of the shoulders, the faint hesitation of her gaze, the measured stillness of someone wishing desperately not to be noticed; such things spoke a language older than hyperspace routes and more truthful than many confessions.

Beyond us, the auction hall continued its ceaseless procession of greed and curiosity. Fresh faces emerged from the shadows of the entranceways, some arriving in eager anticipation of commerce, others clutching data chips that verified successful bids, little tokens promising future acquisitions at their convenience.

Among them wandered a solitary man carrying a translucent vial whose contents shimmered with an unsettling opacity, as though some fragment of a dying nebula had been trapped within glass. My attention lingered upon it briefly.

I found myself wondering whether that curious object had stirred the discomfort festering behind Miss Terallo's composed facade, or the man himself.

I allowed my gaze to drift back toward her while the hall's artificial lights bled pale reflections across polished floors. Around us, the atmosphere resembled the interior of some immense cosmic mausoleum where fortunes were exchanged in place of prayers.

"Humor," I said softly, the corners of my mouth threatening the ghost of a smile, "is not usually associated with seeing ghosts from one's past." My eyes narrowed with deliberate curiosity. "And clearly, Miss Terallo, you saw something."

The words were neither accusation nor demand, merely a carefully sharpened instrument probing the surface of hidden wounds.

There was an ancient quality to such moments, I reflected. Across the galaxy, whether emperor, beggar, Sith, or saint, all beings eventually encountered specters they believed buried beneath sufficient years and sufficient lies.

My tone softened thereafter, though such displays remained foreign garments upon my shoulders. Concern was not an art I practiced often, and when I did, it carried all the grace of a rancor attempting ballroom etiquette.

Nevertheless, I inclined my head toward a collection of vacant auction tables scattered nearby. "Perhaps," I suggested, "you would like to claim one of those tables for a while, gather your composure."

My gaze briefly wandered toward the growing crowd of bidders and opportunists circling the hall like carrion birds around a battlefield. "And perhaps have a little financial fun at the expense of someone else's credits. There are certainly enough fools gathered here willing to part with them."

The faintest hint of amusement colored my voice. In a galaxy haunted by ancient horrors, political decay, and the endless hunger of the Force itself, there remained something strangely comforting about watching wealthy idiots willingly overpay for things they did not need.​

 

[Liin Terallo]

Liin held R'ayne's gaze for a moment before a quiet breath escaped her. The observation was annoyingly accurate. Not the part about ghosts. But the part about her having seen something. A faint expression touched her features; not quite amusement, not quite resignation. "You are very observant." Her words sounded slightly weary.

Her attention then drifted briefly back toward the auction floor. The Lord of Hunger remained occupied near the presentation area, surrounded by interested bidders and curious onlookers. No indication that he had noticed her. No indication that he was searching for her. And yet, old instincts rarely concerned themselves with evidence. "They are not always ghosts," Liin said quietly. "Sometimes they are simply people we hoped never to encounter again." The words lingered between them for a moment before she shook her head slightly, as though dismissing a thought that had already overstayed its welcome. "Fortunately, I have no intention of allowing one unpleasant surprise to dictate the remainder of my evening." Whether that was entirely true remained open to debate.

Her gaze followed the direction R'ayne had indicated, settling upon one of the vacant tables positioned along the edge of the auction floor. Far enough from the crowd to allow conversation. Close enough to continue observing the proceedings. It was a reasonable compromise. "Very well." The faintest hint of dry amusement returned to her voice. "You make a compelling argument. Particularly the part involving someone else's credits."

Liin turned toward the nearest passing server droid and intercepted it with practiced ease. After a brief consideration, she exchanged her nearly untouched drink for another. This one looked considerably stronger. A fact that she chose not to examine too closely.

Only then did she begin moving toward the empty table, her pace unhurried despite the lingering tension beneath it all. As she settled into one of the chairs, her eyes briefly returned to the auction floor once more. Watching. Confirming. Still there. Still occupied. Still not looking in her direction.

Only after satisfying herself of that much did she finally allow her attention to return fully to R'ayne. For the first time since spotting the familiar figure across the room, some of the tension eased from her shoulders. It was not gone. Merely contained. "Since you've diagnosed my discomfort with alarming efficiency," Liin said, folding her hands lightly around the fresh glass, "I suppose it is only fair that I ask a question in return." A faint tilt of her head followed. "What is it that you're actually hoping to find here tonight?" Her eyes drifted briefly toward the bidding floor. "Because I am increasingly convinced that it is not whatever they're trying to sell us."

Tag: R'ayne Asara The Lord of Hunger

 

[Aleratha Tel'alith]

​

Location: Ash World space
Ship: Thor'aluq
Clothes: Armor look and base Suit
Tags: Jolly Walker | John Mahporeem

Aleratha listened to the response the upper bridge of her ship.

"This is Bodan , Imperial Grand Moff. My troopers have breached the station's hull. We are not here to fight either, but we do not need you interfering with our operations. What we are here for is none of your concern. Let us complete our mission, and then the station is yours."

And with that a click. "How dare he just end the transmission!?" The rest of the upper bridge personal slowed down as she loudly said it. How dare a so called Moff with small ships wave me off like that!? Her thoughts moved quickly
Walking away with a huff she opens the ship bridge comms "I want boarding shuttles moving post haste towards the open bays away from this so called 'Imperial Grand Moff Bodan'"

Her pace increased while her hands went into fists going down the corridor. Finally hitting the elevator to go down to the hanger.

The station suddenly roared to life, various systems powering up as Aleratha's ship arrived in the system. Clearly, her being here must have triggered some kind of alert throughout the station, as its automated defense systems began coming online one by one. With barely any warning, batteries of turbolasers, laser cannons and ion cannons suddenly began firing at Thor'aluq and Sepulcher-class Strike Carriers that had intruded upon the station's rest, as dozens of old TIE/D Droid Starfighters began streaming out from the station itself, having remained deactivated for decades if not centuries. Still the passage of time had done nothing to dull their senses, and the ships moved and fought as if they were new. Clearly, someone, or something, had dutifully maintained them for all this time.

Yet, as sudden as the station's onslaught was, it apparently did not extended to the Re aver-class Boarding Pods, which were allowed to pass inside of it unharmed and unopposed. The moment the last pod entered, however, the station's doors suddenly slammed shut, refusing to budge open unless forced to do so.

No sooner did her feet make it within two meters of the hanger door alarms went off. "Alert! Alert! Incoming fire!" the feminine synthetically compiled voice called out on the PA.

The captain of the Thor'aluq began swinging the ship to a closer broadside. A female voice calmly came over the speakers and the local comms "This is captain Volalith, The abandoned station seems to be at the minimum partly automated. Be ready to fire at the weapons emplacements, Flak emplacements authorized."

With the hail of fire from the station came a return fire from the Thor'aluq. The crew was targeting the weapons emplacements, some HMP's shoot discord missiles at the turbo lasers base emplacements. Along with a stream of Vultures and some HMP's. Else where in the chaos is a few clusters of shuttles making their way to a bay quite aways from Jolly Walker 's crew. Aboard one is Aleratha Tel'alith herself, evidenced by the hight amount of fighter screen and HMP's carrying B2-SH4V6's. Amongst the organic crew that's going with her are engineers, scientists, and security. B1's and B2's make the bulk of the forces.