Private Old Business || Velzari

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

MANDALORE

The signal cut through the static.

Lines of code spiked, reformed, and cleared. A burst of azure light shimmered to life above the emitter, then solidified into a towering figure clad in scarlet and iron.

The Mand’alor had arrived.

Aether Verd stood motionless for a beat, the hum of the projection casting a faint glow across the room on the other end. Golden light flickered within the narrow visor of his helm, unreadable. Unflinching. Then, slowly, his head dipped in acknowledgment.

“Whoever you are,” he began, voice low and steady, “you’ve built something impressive.”

His tone held neither praise nor envy. Only recognition. One warlord could always smell the fire on another.

“A few cycles ago, the Black Sun was just another name in a long list of syndicates. But now? Whole systems fly your colors. Worlds bend knee in coin or fear. That kind of unity doesn’t happen by chance. And it doesn’t go unnoticed.”

Aether’s hands remained at his sides. Relaxed, but not unarmed. Never unarmed.

“I am Aether Verd. Mand’alor the Iron.”

A pause.

“Violence is our trade. And your kind… well, you’ve always paid well for it. I’d rather see that tradition continue than fade.” His visor tilted ever so slightly, as if peering through the line. “So tell me...To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”​

Velzari Tharn

 

[Velzari Tharn]

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
O L D - B U S I N E S S​

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Even in hyperspace, the voyage from Dargulli to Nar Shadda was a slog. Not quite long enough to sleep, but far too long to find ways to entertain oneself after the first few hours. Luckily, Velzari was rather skilled at filling the gaps.

He stepped through the corridors of his flagship, the Soaring Fortune, with unfaltering confidence. Ahead lay a small chamber specifically designed for long-range holo-communications that could cut through even a hyperspace jump. On the other end of the holographic tether was a man of growing notoriety, one the Underlord was incredibly keen on making contact with: Aether Verd, Manda’lor of the newly constituted Mandalorian Empire.

On the other side, Aether would see the holographic form of Black Sun’s Underlord step forward, materializing from particles of loose data into an imposing figure donned with a traditional Falleen robe. His topknot was pulled tight, hanging with discipline from the back of his head. Eyes as sharp as the Darksaber itself peered through the scan lines as if he could see the Manda’lor right in front of him.

Then, he smiled.

“I am Prince Velzari Tharn, Son of Fallen, Cohort of the Leviathan Ring, and Underlord of Black Sun.” He offered a graceful bow, then rose, clasping his hands behind his back.

“It is a pleasure, Manda’lor the Iron.”

“I am likewise pleased that the Empire values the hallowed traditions of my organization. Traditions that are venerated by the Mandalorian people as well. I believe we have much in common, and by extension, much to discuss.”

Tags: Aether Verd
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[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

MANDALORE

The glow of the emitter held steady as the Falleen's image came into full view.

Aether regarded the projection in silence for a moment longer. The man before him carried himself with all the markers of authority: disciplined posture, measured tone, titles like banners flown in the wind. And the smile? It didn’t reach the eyes. That, too, was familiar.

The Mand’alor dipped his head once, slowly.

“Underlord Tharn.” The title was spoken with calm precision. “It’s good to finally place a face to the reputation.”

His voice remained even. Not cold, but measured. Controlled.

“I don’t enter business blindly. Not with my own kind, and especially not with strangers. So I appreciate this meeting. Let us both speak plainly and learn of one another."

He shifted his stance slightly, the angle of his visor catching a brief glint of light.

“I’ll admit, I’m curious. Last I tracked the stars of Hutt Space, the underworld was fractured, pulled between slugs, cartels, and ghosts clinging to old names. But now? Your people fly bold banners. The Black Sun shines again. I'd like to know how.”

There was no challenge in his tone. Only interest. A warrior’s respect for another who had carved out their own domain.

“What’s your model, Underlord? Smuggling? Slaving? Arms? What brings the Black Suns profits in the current era?”

Aether’s gauntleted hand lifted, index finger tapping once against the side of the emitter.

“The Empire pays attention to power. Where it flows. How it’s built. If your syndicate thrives, I want to understand. And what role we might play in that success.”

He let the words settle.

“And of course, I expect you’ve questions of your own. About the Empire. About our reach. Ask, and I’ll answer.”

The projection flickered slightly as the encryption recalibrated. Still Aether did not move.

He didn’t need to.​

Velzari Tharn

 

[Velzari Tharn]

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
O L D - B U S I N E S S​

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”My model,” he started, then paused, looking at his fingernails, “is credits.”

“Credits, and power.” They were surely familiar cornerstones of Mandalore’s own resurgence.

“My predecessors enjoyed their respective eras of success. They ran empires of crime, but they all fell victim to the same weaknesses; splintering. The Hutts, the Pykes, Crimson Dawn, Crymorah… they’re all powerful in their own rights. Specialize in various markets, have their specialities. They’ve been unified before under the guise of a criminal regime that would solve all their problems. But those regimes always lack… identity. Control. Vision.”

Velzari’s hands moved behind him, clasping at his lower back. His eyes were unblinking, full of pride at what he’d accomplished. Eager to share a peek but never the full scope, lest he unknowingly arm a future enemy with the ultimate weapon.

“I possess all three. A holy trinity.”

“Black Sun is more than a syndicate, Mand’alor. It is an ideal. A way of life. A code. A religion. Where the Hutts seek to unify their clans and scattered guilds, Black Sun assimilates. Where the Pykes refuse markets beyond their perfected spice trade, Black Sun embraces. Where Crimson Dawn murders political enemies, Black Sun employs.”

He paused there, allowing a moment of silence to pass between himself and the hologram of Aether Verd before getting to the real meat of the meal: the Mandalorian Empire’s role in Black Sun’s Underworld domain.

“I shall assume, if you’ll allow me, that Mandalore is not immune to… internal pressures.”

“Gangs, rebels, Alliance sympathizers, Crusader holdouts - I imagine there are a great many thorns to be caught in your cloak as you expand into the Tingel Arm. Black Sun excels at not only adopting these elements, but completely assimilating them. We inherit your Underworld, ensure it obeys, and command it to deepen our coffers. Spread our influence. Ingrain Black Sun into the system.”

He smiled then, wolfishly.

“But what I describe is not parasitic. Black Sun is a symbiotic creature. In exchange for the freedom to inhabit your Underworld, to become it, we pass on a wealth of benefits.”

Velzari tilted his head slightly, peering through his ridged eyebrows now at the Mandalorian king.

“Therefore, the question is not of how Mandalore can play a part in our success… but how Black Sun can be of service to Mandalore.”

Tags: Aether Verd
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[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

MANDALORE

Aether listened.

He said nothing at first. No interruptions. No posturing. Just silence and attention as the Underlord painted his vision: of assimilation, of ideals, of Black Sun not as a cartel but as a creed.

When Velzari finished, the projection shimmered in the air, a faint hum beneath its words. The Mand’alor gave a slow nod, visor tilting in quiet acknowledgment.

“In that,” Aether said at last, “we are alike.”

His voice remained even, but there was weight behind it. Not flattery, but respect.

“Black Sun. Mandalore. We are more than names, more than syndicates or nations. We are ideals. Codes made manifest. And it takes no small measure of vision to turn fractured legacies into living empires.”

Aether’s arms folded behind his back.

“What you’ve built, I won’t insult it by calling it impressive. That much is obvious. It’s rare to find structure in the underworld. Rarer still to find purpose. I recognize both.”

Another pause. Another shift in stance, subtle.

“But,” he continued, “we’ve been blessed with order thus far.”

The words weren’t boastful. Just matter-of-fact.

“After Taris, we drew a line. One written in flame. Those who might've tested our resolve saw what waited beyond it. Since then, the cloak’s stayed clean. No internal factions of note. No uprisings. Not yet.”

He lifted a hand briefly, letting the words linger midair.

“I’m not naive. No empire holds total control. But Mandalore doesn’t crack easily. Not anymore.”

A beat.

“So the word you used, symbiosis, that’s the one I prefer.”

Aether stepped forward slightly, bringing his silhouette closer to the emitter’s light. The crimson glow caught the edge of his cuirass, painting the iron in subtle tones of war.

“The nature of crime is what it is. Always has been. But so too is the nature of our people. The clans have worked with the Underworld since before the rise of the Republic. Some traded weapons. Some traded names. Others simply kept the peace.”

A pause, calm but focused.

“What matters now is this: can we take that old foundation and make something better of it?”

He leaned in just slightly, enough to give weight to the next words.

“Mandalore has strength. Reach. Fear. The kind of stability that gives your syndicate room to breathe. And in return? We seek discretion. Efficiency. Profit.”

His head tilted.

“So. You know your people. I know mine. Tell me, Underlord, how do we build something that lets both thrive?”

He let the question hang, his voice steady. Not demanding. But pointed.

As always, Aether didn’t need to move to make his presence known.

He simply was.​

Velzari Tharn

 

[Velzari Tharn]

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
O L D - B U S I N E S S​

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Velzari's hologram flickered, scanlines tracing along the edge of his brow as the digital rendering worked to display the Underlord accurately - a glitch likely caused by communicating from hyperspace, but one that did not persist.

"You've done what few can, Mand'alor: impose gravity on the chaos, weigh it down under your will. Even fewer manage to do so without earning the ire of those beneath their boots. Empires in particular excel at tightening the vice, but they always squeeze out a quarrelsome rebellion on the other side. You claim there are none to speak of." It was not said as a question of Aether's honesty, but as a sign of respect. It was an impressive feat, even if only short-lived.

"A system where the two of us thrive together is one that is built on clarity. The lines between Underworld and Empire should not be blurred, as they often are. They must be well-defined, and we are the two that shall make them so. Your clans shall hold the line, and my syndicate will work in the shadows. We move product, control the black markets, silence your threats, keep information flowing."

Velzari's form shifted only slightly as the man spoke. "The Empire allows Black Sun to flourish, makes things... simple. In return, you gain a partner that does not bleed your borders, corrupt your foundation, or court your enemies. We both profit. Both grow."

Aether would be wise to take this offer, Velzari thought. His empire was certainly not the first to seek partnership with the Black Sun, but thus far, they were the only one Velzari would think twice about undermining directly. The Confederation, the Iron Empire, even the Dark Imperial remnants... they were little more than rodents clawing one another to get the biggest portion of the same old scraps.

But Mandalore?

Mandalore was where the power was. And where power concentrated, Black Sun was sure to follow. Velzari knew his organization had its place in society. Black Sun would never sit the throne of Mandalore, never adorn the Imperial halls of Bastion with its banner, never command thousands of planets from the Coruscant Senate rotunda. It was meant to live in the shadows, and Mandalore cast the longest one there was.

Ancient. Bold. Uncontested.

Tags: Aether Verd
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