Faction Counting Credits [OPEN TO ALL!]

[R'ayne Asara]

here comes the money

[]

Queen of Hearts
​

Tag ~ Liin Terallo

​

I never removed my gaze from Miss Terallo. There was something exquisitely unsettling about her, as though every passing heartbeat peeled away another layer of a mystery that should have remained entombed beneath forgotten memories.

I listened to every syllable that escaped her lips with the same reverence an archaeologist might grant an ancient Sith reliquary whose whispers promised enlightenment and extinction in equal measure. Then she asked me a question; an odd little thing that hung in the air like a cracked prayer spoken before an unseen diety.

A slow, predatory grin unfolded across my face, dark as a solar eclipse over an unfaithful lover's heart. "Many things," I said, my voice carrying the cadence of distant tolling bells. "Many things I see, Miss Terallo, when loyalty is not purchased."

I allowed the silence to linger just long enough for it to become uncomfortable before another movement claimed the edge of my vision. The man The Lord of Hunger who had unsettled Miss Terallo earlier, though she wouldn't openly admit that, was watching her from behind a pair of black sunglasses, his expression concealed but his intentions no less transparent.

I turned only enough to catch his gaze and rewarded him with a languid wink that spoke far louder than words ever could. It is not polite to stare. Returning my attention to Miss Terallo, I folded my hands together with almost ceremonial calm.

"Freedom," I continued softly. "Friendship, for better or for ill, if one is fortunate enough to value such things. Protection. Peace in every one of that troublesome word's many meanings. Free will, Miss Terallo."

My smile became colder, older, as though it had survived civilizations that no longer existed.

"There is an old cliche about treating others as...uh...something or another. Such sentiments have never been my strongest discipline. Yet even I know this much; enslaving yourself for recognition is not loyalty, it is weakness masquerading as virtue. Never compromise yourself, your ideas, or your causes for someone unworthy of your devotion. If another desires your loyalty, let them earn it. And when you finally choose to give it..."

I inclined my head ever so slightly.

"...you do so freely, never because chains have convinced you they were kindness."​

 

[Liin Terallo]

For the briefest instant, Liin had forgot how to breathe. The room did not actually grow quieter. Conversations continued. Glasses still chimed. Somewhere a bid was called and answered. Yet all of it seemed impossibly distant as the Lord of Hunger's gaze found her across the auction hall. Time stretched. His eyes remained hidden behind crimson lenses, but she did not need to see them to feel them. A familiar cold settled into her chest. It was not panic. It was the same instinct that had carried her through abandoned laboratories, hurried departures, false identities, and years spent wondering whether each unfamiliar face had finally come for her. Every careful habit she had cultivated suddenly resurfaced with perfect clarity; leave, stand up, walk away., disappear before he closes the distance.

Her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the stem of her glass. Then she remembered that she was not sitting alone. The realization came quietly, almost absurdly, yet it anchored her more effectively than reason. R'ayne remained beside her, entirely untroubled by the attention cast in their direction. If anything, the subtle wink she offered the man across the room bordered on mischievous.

Liin had no doubt that if the evening turned unpleasant, that R'ayne might intervene. That certainty surprised her. Not because it felt unwarranted. But because it felt earned.

Gradually the oppressive sensation eased as the Lord of Hunger turned his attention back toward the gathered audience and the auction resumed it's carefully rehearsed performance. Only then did Liin become aware that she had been holding herself perfectly still. So she released a slow breath.

R'ayne's answer settled into the silence that followed. Freedom. Friendship. Protection. And peace. Each word carried a weight that felt strangely practical rather than poetic.

Liin lowered her gaze to the untouched drink before her, watching the faint ripples along its surface. "I think..." she said quietly, "...that I finally understand what you meant." Her voice remained both soft and thoughtful. "For a long time I believed that loyalty was measured by endurance." A faint smile touched her lips, though there was little humor in it. "How much of yourself you were willing to sacrifice before someone acknowledged your worth." She gave a small shake of her head. "It took losing nearly everything for me to discover that that isn't loyalty at all." Her eyes lifted once more to meet R'ayne's. "It is dependency." That distinction alone felt strangely liberating to her when spoken aloud. "I haf spent years giving pieces of myself to people and institutions that never intended to give anything back. I thought persistence would eventually become belonging. But it didn't."

For a moment her attention wandered toward the distant auction floor again. The Lord of Hunger remained there, occupied by bidders eager to acquire whatever impossible treasure he had chosen to present. Yet this time, she did not feel quite so alone beneath his presence. When she looked back to R'ayne, there was a warmth in her expression that had not been there earlier. "So perhaps loyalty begins exactly where obligation ends. It isn't something demanded." Her fingers relaxed around the glass. "Instead it is something that survives because both people remain free enough to walk away." A faint smile returned. "And choose not to."

Tag: R'ayne Asara The Lord of Hunger

 

[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

---

As Sularen shook hands with the white-uniformed Imperial, he introduced himself as Admiral Galen Tagge, the current owner of TaggeCo and former Governor of Tepasi, presumably before the Sith Covenant moved in and carried out their barbaric massacre of the Tepasi Nobility. Sularen had never heard of Tagge before, but he had encountered other members of House Tagge, such as Emmen Tagge and Brama Tagge, who both served as Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor of the now-defunct Galactic Alliance and Vortigern Tagge, a former Vigo of the Black Sun.

However, meeting a member of House Tagge who was an Imperial was somewhat refreshing, especially when the Imperial Movement needed capable and influential figures, and Sularen had yet to meet a Tagge who lacked such qualities. "A pleasure to meet you too, Admiral Tagge," Sularen responded. "By all means lead the way," he said, offering to let Tagge take the lead. It seemed that tonight would be an interesting one and perhaps Sularen would walk away with a new ally for the Final Dawn.

---

Tags | Galen Tagge | OPEN​

 

[R'ayne Asara]

here comes the money

[]

Queen of Hearts
​

Tag ~ Liin Terallo

​

"Miss Terallo, you do understand now," I said, my voice scarcely more than a velvet rasp beneath the sepulchral glow of the auction hall.

“When we were young, myself included, we were empty chests, rattling with hollow ambitions, desperate to fill ourselves with purpose, power, affection, or meaning. We reached for glittering things without seeing the greater constellation beyond them. Sometimes we were fortunate enough to dodge the curve of fate. Other times.....” I allowed a faint smile to creep across my lips, one touched more by old wounds than humor.

“Other times we had no choice but to take it squarely upon the chin and pray the lesson was worth the bruise.” Yet before I could continue, a tremor of astonishment seized me. My gaze drifted toward the central dais where attendants unveiled a newly arrived lot.

There, resting upon an ebony cradle, was a colossal egg veined with ancient mineral hues. A sharp gasp escaped me. For a fleeting instant, the Force itself seemed to recoil and then lean closer, as though curious to witness my reaction.

“Do you know what that egg is, Miss Terallo,” I whispered, unable to conceal the fascination burning behind my eyes. “A krayt dragon egg!" The immense shell seemed almost sorrowful beneath the auction lights, an unborn titan awaiting its first glimpse of a galaxy that seldom rewarded innocence.

“The poor thing. A little dragon waiting for his or her introduction into this wretched galaxy, only to be greeted by greedy paws or unappreciative morons. What a surprise.”

I exhaled slowly, sentiment overcoming cynicism for perhaps the first time that evening. “For sentimental reasons, Miss Terallo, I shall have that dragon egg.” Without hesitation, I lifted the electronic bidding paddle high into the air.

Across the chamber, rival collectors and predators alike immediately took notice, their hungry eyes narrowing as fresh numbers illuminated the holoscreens. I surveyed them in turn, my smile sharpening into something far less charitable.

“Hmm,” I mused darkly, settling deeper into my seat. “Looking at this competition, I might have to cheat.”​

 

[John Mahporeem]

Ladies, gentlemen and aliens...

The N&Z Umbrella Corporation wishes to thank you for your patronage this fine evening. As the bidding draws to a close, we ask that you all take out your raffle tickets from earlier, as we are about to commence our raffle of the fabled Antique Trooper Armor set. Here we go, and best of luck to all our attendees. Make sure you thoroughly check your tickets!

And the winning ticket is...

IMP-3916401!

Congratulations to Novac Lyrikal ! Your ticket matches our winning number! Though we are unsure what someone with your...physique will do with the armor, we nonetheless believe that it will serve you quite well for all your future endeavors. Enjoy, and remember, bidding is almost over, anyone wishing to place a bid should do so as soon as possible. Have a pleasant rest of your evening!

TAG:
R'ayne Asara
Liin Terallo
The Lord of Hunger
Mika Tai En
Marlon Sularen
Galen Tagge
Novac Lyrikal

​

 

[John Mahporeem]

WAIT!

Hold on just a moment!

Ladies, gentlemen and aliens, I've just been informed of a recent development!

Novac Lyrikal has refused ownership of the Antique Trooper Armor set!

Fret not! His loss is your gain, because that means the armor is once again up to be raffled!

That's right, everyone! We are about to conduct a second drawing of our raffle! Please take your tickets back out if you still have them, because you still have a chance to acquire this fabulous piece of functional art for yourselves!

Good luck, and here we go!

Our new winning number is: IMP-39164890!

And who's the lucky winner this time around? Why its Liin Terallo of course! Congratulations to you! Please step up to claim your armor, as we're sure you'll be happy to accept it this time!

TAG:
R'ayne Asara
Liin Terallo
The Lord of Hunger
Mika Tai En
Marlon Sularen
Galen Tagge
Novac Lyrikal

​

 

[Liin Terallo]

For several seconds, I simply stared at the auctioneer..I was fairly certain that I had misunderstood him. My eyes flicked toward R'ayne, then toward the central dais, and finally back toward the auctioneer as though one of those three things might provide an explanation for what had just happened.

Me?

I glanced down at my hands. There was no bidding paddle. I hadn't entered the raffle with any particular expectation of winning. In fact, I had almost forgotten that I possessed the ticket at all. Yet the number remained illuminated across the display. IMP-39164890. My number.

A strange little silence formed inside my head. I had spent the better part of the evening trying not to attract attention. I had survived an encounter with the Lord of Hunger's attention without fleeing the room. I had somehow managed to have an unexpectedly meaningful conversation about friendship and freedom. I had even begun to relax. And now an entire room full of strangers was apparently waiting for me to collect a suit of armor.

I slowly turned my head toward R'ayne. "...I won." It was not really a question. My expression must have conveyed some combination of bewilderment and disbelief because, after another moment, I looked back toward the armor resting upon it's ebony cradle. It was beautiful. That was the problem. Had it been some hideous piece of military equipment, perhaps I could have simply laughed and declined it. But the armor was an extraordinary piece of craftsmanship. Decorative without being frivolous. Ancient without appearing fragile. It possessed the sort of history that made me immediately wonder who had worn it, where it had been, and what stories might have followed it through the centuries. Which, unfortunately, made refusing it considerably more difficult.

I took a small breath and rose from my chair. "Well..." I murmured, smoothing my skirt almost reflexively. "I suppose it would be terribly rude to win something and then refuse to accept it."

There was perhaps a second consideration. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do with it. Sell it? Keep it? Study it? Donate it to a museum? Find someone who actually had the appropriate physique and temperament to wear antique trooper armor? All of those questions could wait. For now, I simply walked toward the dais.

The journey felt considerably longer than it should have. I could feel eyes following me from every direction, and I became painfully aware that I was approaching a suit of armor large enough to make me look somewhat ridiculous standing beside it. I stopped in front of the attendants and looked up. Then higher. And slightly higher still. "...Oh." That was all I managed. Up close, it was even more impressive. I reached out cautiously, allowing my fingertips to brush against one of the ornate plates. The metal was cool beneath my touch, it's surface bearing the subtle marks of age that no replica could convincingly reproduce.

A small smile finally appeared. "Thank you," I said to the attendant, before glancing once more toward the armor. "I...think." I wasn't entirely certain what one was supposed to say when unexpectedly handed an antique suit of functional armor. Still, I accepted it. Whatever became of it afterward could be decided later.

For the moment, I had apparently acquired an antique trooper armor set. I had a sinking suspicion that this was going to be one of those stories that followed me for the rest of my life.

Tags: John Mahporeem R'ayne Asara The Lord of Hunger Novac Lyrikal Marlon Sularen Galen Tagge Mika Tai En

 

[R'ayne Asara]

here comes the money

[]

Queen of Hearts
​

Tag ~ Liin Terallo
​

I offered Miss Terallo a smile that did not belong beneath any sane sky. It was the sort of smile found carved into forgotten idols at the bottom of abyssal oceans, preserved long after the civilizations that worshipped them had been consumed by darkness.

Folding my hands before me, I inclined my head with friendly formality and allowed my voice to drift through the auction hall like velvet wrapped around a rusty dagger. “Congratulations are in order, Miss Terallo,” I purred.

“Such accomplishments deserve recognition. And a whole antique armor to cosplay in.” The words lingered in the air long after they were spoken, twisting through the silence like unseen specters

I watched as my friend, no, my new bestie, stepped forward to accept her prize. The sight filled me with an almost theatrical delight.

Rising from my seat, I brought my hands together in a series of sharp, enthusiastic claps that echoed throughout the cavernous auction hall, a cheerful sound rendered unsettling by the countless staring artifacts and relics that surrounded us.

“Marvelous,” I said with a grin that exposed far too much satisfaction. Yet even as I celebrated Miss Terallo’s triumph, my gaze drifted toward the krayt dragon egg resting upon its black pedestal.

Beneath its ancient shell I could feel something stirring, something vast and primordial, a sleeping hunger wrapped in flesh and bone.

A sinister smile slowly spread across my face. Whether by bargain, theft, destiny, or bloodshed, the outcome remained unchanged in my mind.

One way or another, that egg would be mine.

(End Post)​