Private I Find It Kinda Funny, I Find It Kinda Sad

[Velzari Tharn]

BLACK SUN SYNDICATE
I FIND IT KINDA FUNNY, I FIND IT KINDA SAD​

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As Velzari traced over the lines of his own reflection in the window with his eyes, he found his features curling into a grim smile. Below the surface of his bilious skin, feelings of pride and power were shaping his expression. The Underlord—Prince of Crime, Lord of the Cartels, Governor of Nar Shaddaa—had been contemplating the many ways in which the galaxy chooses to cope.

Cope with the fact they they allowed a crime syndicate to blockade entire planets, to kidnap a chancellor, to murder senators, to aid in the dismantling of the Alliance, and to wrest control of the Hapes Cluster.

If the superpowers of the galaxy had any gumption, they’ve have flown straight to Hutt Space with their capital ships and fleets to pull Black Sun out by its roots. But they didn’t. They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. Prince Velzari’s empire had grown too powerful to be flattened with a hammer. He controlled senators, had Sith Lords wrapped around his finger, honored accords with Mandalore, and employed half the galaxy’s pirate lords and bounty hunters in some fashion or another. No, Black Sun could not be brute forced. It had to excised, brought to blade with precision and intent, like the cancer that it was.

But a revelation came to the Underlord, perhaps unfortunately too late to remedy easily: though Black Sun would require tactile work both politically and militarily to eliminate, the sheer size of his criminal empire did no favors in the department of discretion. A syndicate so large it could be mapped on star charts would not last long. As much as he was pleased by proverbially gazing upon all the light touches, it was clear that anything living in the light can be seen by all. Black Sun needed to abandon its own grandeur to survive. It must dive below the surface once again, a dark creature below the tide, a cancer beneath the skin, a shadow in the dark corners of the galaxy.

And so, from his palatial tower on Nar Shaddaa, Prince Velzari watched his reflection haunt the horizon of the Smuggler’s Moon—a physical embodiment of Black Sun’s new mantra: ghosts cannot be killed.

A hiss at the automatic portal behind him pulled the Underlord’s grin even wider. He was expecting her, his favorite Vigo Majore. Velzari turned, hands folded neatly at the small of his back. Across the room, he saw the neon glow dazzle over rose-colored skin.

“Good evening, Miss du Vain.” He greeted her with much the same respect as usual, though it was decorated with a tone of enthusiasm. A rarity in his voice that Mauve would surely notice.

Tags: Mauve du Vain​