Miss Blonde
Trying to be straight in a crooked Galaxy
People were dead, and Blonde needed to plot her revenge. If the Imperial Remnant hadn't stepped in, then everything would of gone a lot more smoothly. Now, Miss Blonde had the ships, the soldiers, and the resources to go toe to toe with the Remnant. Hell, she could possibly even beat them. But that was a war that would be costly for everyone, and it was hard to run a intergalactic criminal syndicate while at war with a rouge group of imperials. So Blonde needed to reach out and see if they were going to do this, if they wanted to fight then they could fight. But she preferred to come to a more sensible option.
[member="Tanomas Graf"] was one of the shot callers in the Remnant and he seemed like the person to talk to about finding a more diplomatic solution. Now Blonde was quite certain he'd settle for nothing but her in prison or dead, but there was something he knew about her. He knew she was deadly, he knew she was cunning, and most importantly he knew she was ruthless. She'd hyperspace a cruiser into an imperial remnant planet before she would go, and he most certainly would understand that. But. Miss Blonde was willing to reach out to keep things from getting out of hand, she'd kick herself in the teeth if she didn't try.
So a physical datacron was sent to Tanomas via mail, sent from a PO box that didn't exist. Untraceable in just about every sense of the word. It wouldn't be marked who it was from, but that it was of the utmost importance. If the man decided to play it, this is what would follow.
An image of a woman in a hood and gas mask would appear. Tanomas had never seen Blonde before, and this wasn't going to help identify who she was in the slightest.
"If this message has reached you successfully let me first start by apologizing for Christophsis. I gave your man the opportunity to back off, let me take my money, and then leave. He refused and suffered the consequences. Now I won't narc on who did what, because none of that matters now. People are dead and quite frankly I couldn't really care less for their meaningless little lives." The image would then let out a small sigh. But then it's tone wound turn deadly serious.
"But what you saw. That is a fraction of what I'm capable of. I will kill you, your family, your friends, hell, I'll even kill their friends. I have the resources, the people, and the ships to fight with you. I can burn you." The image of the woman would then clear her robotic voice.
"But. War isn't good for business. So I'll extend to you an offer. We let our various third party bounty hunters, mercenaries, and assassins kill each other in our names, and we leave our organizations out of the official fight. At least for now. There's no mistake that there will be violence, I need to uphold my reputation as much as much as you. So if you're interested in this deal, call me. Otherwise we can see each other on the battlefield, which I can promise you won't be pretty for either of us. Especially a growing organization such as yours." Blonde would then disappear and a set of numbers would appear on the screen.
They would be some burner on a backwater planet that would forward to miss blonde, she always took caution in these situations to not be traced.
[member="Tanomas Graf"] was one of the shot callers in the Remnant and he seemed like the person to talk to about finding a more diplomatic solution. Now Blonde was quite certain he'd settle for nothing but her in prison or dead, but there was something he knew about her. He knew she was deadly, he knew she was cunning, and most importantly he knew she was ruthless. She'd hyperspace a cruiser into an imperial remnant planet before she would go, and he most certainly would understand that. But. Miss Blonde was willing to reach out to keep things from getting out of hand, she'd kick herself in the teeth if she didn't try.
So a physical datacron was sent to Tanomas via mail, sent from a PO box that didn't exist. Untraceable in just about every sense of the word. It wouldn't be marked who it was from, but that it was of the utmost importance. If the man decided to play it, this is what would follow.
An image of a woman in a hood and gas mask would appear. Tanomas had never seen Blonde before, and this wasn't going to help identify who she was in the slightest.
"If this message has reached you successfully let me first start by apologizing for Christophsis. I gave your man the opportunity to back off, let me take my money, and then leave. He refused and suffered the consequences. Now I won't narc on who did what, because none of that matters now. People are dead and quite frankly I couldn't really care less for their meaningless little lives." The image would then let out a small sigh. But then it's tone wound turn deadly serious.
"But what you saw. That is a fraction of what I'm capable of. I will kill you, your family, your friends, hell, I'll even kill their friends. I have the resources, the people, and the ships to fight with you. I can burn you." The image of the woman would then clear her robotic voice.
"But. War isn't good for business. So I'll extend to you an offer. We let our various third party bounty hunters, mercenaries, and assassins kill each other in our names, and we leave our organizations out of the official fight. At least for now. There's no mistake that there will be violence, I need to uphold my reputation as much as much as you. So if you're interested in this deal, call me. Otherwise we can see each other on the battlefield, which I can promise you won't be pretty for either of us. Especially a growing organization such as yours." Blonde would then disappear and a set of numbers would appear on the screen.
They would be some burner on a backwater planet that would forward to miss blonde, she always took caution in these situations to not be traced.