Public Jutrand: Spice Spice Baby

[Jerec Asyr]

Somehow, Black Sun returned.

As an unannounced but sincere token of newfound friendship and grand horizons, a formal convoy of Cataclyst Raider corvettes touched down around the Sith academy on the city world of Jutrand.

It was a beautiful day and the Cataclysts were heavily loaded, plump and happy. When they landed, assorted underworld persons began unloading and distributing the gift to every Sith, apprentice Sith, and Sith associate in sight.

The gift was about fifteen kinds of spice. Andris, carsunum, glitterstim, gunjack, ryll and ryll kor, blue dream, blue tears, Zonju cave cactus juice, the works. Jerec, pleasantly buzzed on mid-range andris, handed out sampler vials of something bubbly to a titanic Togorian marauder and a quartet of rich eighteen-year-old acolytes dripping in swag. The sun broke through the skyscrapers. Jerec sighed happily. After Wielu, he'd needed a taste of some real diplomacy.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"How long are you going to be here?" said a slinky red-and-black Zabrak with a lightstaff and a complex custom ryll kor dispenser rig.

Jerec looked at the nearest security camera. Jutrand had many such. Between the camera he was looking at and the many, many, many curious but hesitant passers-by, he felt seen. Not necessarily comprehended, but seen.

"I believe," Jerec said slowly, "the plan is to stay here giving spice to impressionable Sith in huge quantity and variety. I don't really see a natural end point, do you?"

The Zabrak Darth got a little bit cross-eyed and wandered off, which felt elegantly concise.

 

[Grunt]

Grunt didn't know why he was on the Sith planet, but he didn't ask too many questions. He had been handing out spice to the Sith for a while now. He had thought that the glares and comments from other criminals was bad, the Sith outright refused to speak to him most of the time. The ones that did only referred to him as a pig. Wasn't really a great time for him. But he knew what would make it better!

Spice!

The Gamorrean wanted to figure out a way to get some of the spice for himself. He didn't want to outright steal, as that was a quick way to die. One of his thoughts was stealing a robe and pretending to be a Sith apprentice, and get some of the spice. He then remembered the brutal reception he just got by those jackweeds. He needed a new approach if he was going to score some spice.

"SNORT-CHK Here, come get some spice!" He opened out his arms to the young adults before him. They all proceeded to laugh at him and call him names. Yeah he needed a fix, quick.

TAG: Jerec Asyr ​

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"You, sir," said Jerec to Grunt , an unfamiliar henchbeing who reminded him of a Gamorrean he'd known once in pleasant context, "have a knack and aptitude for sales. Don't be afraid to play to your strengths. Sith may just be Jedi with extra steps, but they like strength an awful lot. Here, let's get you selling gunjack."

He called over a salesbeing to see about getting Grunt set up with a tray or display case or that grand old classic, a large flappy coat with contraband pockets inside.

"Oh look, Sith coming your way, good luck!"

Jerec split off to tackle a separate potential client, a wrinkled humanoid in a Ghorman twill robe who looked in need of some arthritis relief. And once that wrapped he had some important pending collaborations with the Imperial Sanitation Authority.

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"SNORT-CHK Here, come get some spice!" He opened out his arms to the young adults before him. They all proceeded to laugh at him and call him names.

The Sith youth scattered like leaves before a winter's gale as Ashin approached. She was not so much a known face on Jutrand, or rather the mask of Anger wasn't known here. She'd spent most of the last decades teaching at a different academy that refined more senior students, and had nothing against these youth, but they were simply acting prudently around an old, cold, unfamiliar presence. Jutrand was built on such insecurities. It was why she hated this planet.

...and was looking at old habits again, in the most proportionate and disciplined moderation.

By the thoroughfare, in the shade of a raider corvette, she came up to a pair of Black Sun henchpersons, Grunt and someone else who had trays of assorted spice.

"Hello," she said in the voice that had ordered the conquest of ten thousand worlds. "Do you have any glitterstim?"

 

[Cyrus Thorin]

wrong account please ignore

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Lina lingered in the shadows, the ever-silent observer. A place that she was becoming reacquainted with. Stepping into the light had drawn unwanted attention and consequences that she could not take back, and her unintentionally extended trip to the Void had left her out of the loop and changed. So she lingered, watched and bided her time. The Black Suns' return was of mild interest, but not her goal. Her goal had been to study the students, see if there were any worth giving her attention to.

Maybe she was looking to fill a void.

The students scattered, drawing a frown as she straightened to see who had spooked them. Her mother's lightsabers seemed to hum in the force; the essence of Anaya Fen that lingered within them was excited. Hungry even. Lina had experienced them vibrating with anger at the sight of old foes before, but not this. Curiosity got the better of her, and she slid out from her hiding place, weaving through the fleeing students. She approached another Black Sun representative, scanning his offerings, keeping an eye on the woman who seemed to be so important to her mother.

"Any carsunum?" She'd read that the Emeber of Vahl had been known to use that particular variant of spice to open their minds to Vahl herself, and she was always open to playing with possibilities.

Ashin Cardé Varanin Grunt

 

[Grunt]

The Gamorrean watched as the punks who had called him names ran away like cowering womp rats. He squealed a 'yeah you better get out of here' as they left. He wasn't sure why they did but he didn't question it. Then the answer presented itself anyways, in the form of what appeared to be an older woman. Grunt couldn't tell with Sith. A lot of them gave off non-binary vibes now.

He listened as she asked for her gitterstim. It seemed to be her lucky day, on the tray he had in his grasp was a plethora of different types of spice. It wasn't helping his cravings any. "Hrrnk! The Black Sun Syndicate has everything you desire and more!" He wasn't the most beautiful mascot, but he was the loudest. Grunt went to give some to the Sith when another approached, this one was younger, with a pep in her step. Not for long, she'd be swaying back and forth like the rest of them once she got some of the Ithorian's good stuff.

"Thank you for not calling me names! Pffrrrk!" He finished handing the women their drugs. Maybe they were going to share.

TAG: Ashin Cardé Varanin Lina Ovmar ​

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"Thank you for not calling me names! Pffrrrk!"

"I save my derision for the truly deserving." Ashin cradled the small packet and made it vanish into her black armourweave robe for private consumption later. She tipped Grunt with a small semi-precious gemstone, a piece of bluish-gray kyberite the size of her thumbnail. "But grow a thicker skin should you spend time on Jutrand. It would be, shall we say, a competitive advantage."

The carsunum customer, a younger woman, struck Ashin as familiar, but not enough so to eclipse the opacity of half a dozen deaths.

As Ashin moved away, another part of her — a local hawkbat — soared overhead for a more inquisitive look at Lina Ovmar and to surveil her. This was mostly because Ashin did not want to bother asking who she was.

 

[Kebos]

Kebos sat at a table opposite of a sharply dressed Imperial agent. Her hair was short and red and make up was minimal but without fault. He wore casual leisurewear with several diamond-encrusted gold necklaces. His black Gunray-Bans hid his eyes that were not at all focused on the agent, though there wasn't much else. The room was clean and slate colored. Only one light illuminated the small room, but it was dim, giving the room an almost eerie vibe.

"Can't believe you made me come all the way out here. This coulda been a holocall, for real." Kebos groaned.

The agent sighed, "Listen, you know we have to keep in touch. You haven't checked in since you got to Javin. We expect status reports from now on."

"Aight, my bad. Guess I got caught up in the business, you know? Imma do better. Promise. Am I free to go?" The agent made a open palm gesture confirming his freedom from the meeting. He stood up quickly and moved towards the door. After some corridors, checkpoints, and one last door, Kebos was outside of the Grand Incineration Complex, secret headquarters of the Sanitation Agency. Just outside, his airspeeder awaited him. One of his IG droids sat in the driver seat, awaiting it's master. He walked around the vehicle and jumped. Without a moment passing the speeder was in the air, taking off towards the city.

Soon, Jutrand Academy came into view. Several ships were just outside of the monument to Sith education. Kebos' curiosity got the better of him as it usually does. "Aye, let's drop over there. I wanna see somethin'." The droid acknowledged him before cutting to their right and landed near the academy. Kebos looked over his shades at the gathering a short walk from him. He maneuvered out of his airspeeder, leaving it and his droid there to wait his return.

He approached the group. It was mostly acolytes from the academy gathering around what appeared to be agents of the Black Sun. The emblem emblazoned on the ships were the biggest clue. Kebos noted several acolytes were walking away with peaceful grins on their face and hands full of spice. Kebos could not hold back a chuckle. "Black Sun's out here giving out drugs to the community," he said to himself as he came in closer. "Wonder if the agency would want to know about this. Nah, I ain't no snitch." Kebos removed his shades and locked eyes with the Ithorian. He approached casually and put on a friendly smile.

"Nice spread ya got here. Tell me what you're workin' with here."

Jerec Asyr | Lina Ovmar | Ashin Cardé Varanin | Grunt ​

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"Nice spread ya got here. Tell me what you're workin' with here."

"We set out with thirty kinds of spice and truth be told I'm not sure how many we have left. Busy morning. Grunt over there just gave a nice Sith Lord some glitterstim, and we've got plenty of that, all total-opaque sealed." Jerec's usual game, far and away, was ships: theft and redistribution, in whole and in part. But he'd spent more than enough time as a fixture in the Denon underworld and now as a Vigo to understand the cargo. Plus you just had to understand your own cargo as a matter of professionalism, if nothing else.

"Glitterstim, ryll, refined white andris, probably have ryll kor left. You don't look like a gunjack kind of man, but we've got that. Nothing like muon gold, nobody's out to do damage around here. Cooked polstine, plenty of that. Neutron pixie, booster blue, the classics."