Void Toll
Character
Krayt "Iron Hand" Valen, Captain of the Star Eater, leader of the Void Toll pirates, sat impatiently on what had become his throne. The room, which was called a throne room by some, the "ego gallery" by others (behind the captain's back of course), was filled with plunder that Valen thought went further held onto as a sign of his power: rare art, flashy jewelry and several cases of credits from various governments (defunct and active). What Valen usually found the most useful in showing his power and prestige were his slaves: a pair of identical blue-skinned twins and a curvy purple-skinned Twi'lek. They were not there for Iron Hand's personal use. He liked parading them around as a show of more of his power.
The doors parted with a low hydraulic hiss, and the hum of the Star Eater's inner workings seemed to quiet—whether by design or by the crew's instinctive awareness of their captain, it was hard to tell. A pair of Void Toll corsairs, or "Blackhooks", escorted Ulani in without ceremony, though neither laid a hand on her. They didn't need to. Presence alone did the work. Kessa Ironbrand followed a half-step behind, not quite guard, not quite equal—eyes already moving, measuring exits, sightlines, weapons, people.
Krayt "Iron Hand" Valen did not rise. He leaned forward instead, one metal-clad hand resting against the arm of his throne, the faint whine of servos filling the silence as his fingers flexed. His gaze swept over Ulani once—quick, assessing, unimpressed on the surface, but lingering just long enough to suggest calculation beneath it.
"Not much to look at," he muttered, more to the room than to her. Then a crooked grin pulled at the edge of his mouth. "Good. Means you might actually survive this." A few of the pirates along the walls chuckled under their breath. One didn't. Kessa. Valen's eyes flicked briefly toward her, then back to Ulani.
"You know who I am," he continued, voice settling into something calmer, more deliberate. "Which means you know I don't waste time on small work. If I wanted a smash-and-grab, I'd send them." He jerked his chin toward the gathered pirates—scarred, armed, and very obviously built for violence.
"They'd make a mess. Loud, bloody, expensive mess." A pause. "Already tried that once."
That grin returned, sharper this time. "Didn't take." He leaned back slightly, tapping the metal fingers of his prosthetic against the throne in a slow, rhythmic beat.
"Hutt Space is shifting. Black Sun's bleeding out, and everyone with teeth is circling the carcass." His tone carried something almost like amusement. "Including me."
One of the blue-skinned twins stepped forward silently, presenting a small, velvet-lined case. Valen didn't open it himself—he simply nodded. The lid lifted. Inside, resting in shadowed luxury, was the Sunfall Reliquary—or rather, its twin. A replica. Close enough to fool the eye at a glance, but not the real thing.
Valen watched Ulani carefully now. "That," he said, tapping the case once with a metal finger, "is what we don't have."
His gaze sharpened. "The real one's sitting pretty at a sky-palace over Nar Shaddaa. High society gathering. Masks, money, secrets. The kind of place my people walk into and immediately get noticed."
A slight tilt of his head. "You walk in… they'll wonder who you are. Maybe even let you stay long enough to find out."
Kessa shifted just slightly beside Ulani, folding her arms. "Or long enough to take something," she added, voice low, flat.
Valen's grin widened. "Exactly." He gestured lazily with his organic hand, as if dismissing the entire room despite being surrounded by it. "It's a relic. Black Sun pedigree. Kyber shard in it—worth a fortune on its own. But the real value?" His eyes gleamed. "Access. Reputation. Doors that open just because you're wearing it." [/color]
He leaned forward again, the servos in his arm whining softly. "I want it." Simple. Direct. No embellishment. "You get in, you get close, you take it. Clean if you can. Clever if you're smart. Fast if it goes bad." A beat. "Alive, preferably."
A ripple of quiet laughter moved through the room. Valen's expression didn't change. "Kessa goes with you," he added, flicking a glance in her direction. "She keeps you breathing. Keeps me informed. And if things turn…" he gave a small shrug, "she makes sure we don't walk away empty-handed."
Kessa didn't react outwardly, but her eyes briefly shifted to Ulani—measuring, weighing. She had worked with Ulani before, Kessa thought Ulani quite capable. Valen settled back into his throne, as though the matter were already decided. "Bring me the Reliquary," he said, voice lowering just enough to carry weight. "And you walk out of here richer than you've ever been."[/color]
A pause. His metal fingers tapped once more against the throne. "Fail…" he added, almost conversationally, "and I'll assume you weren't worth the trouble of finding."
Silence settled over the room again. Then, with a faint smirk: "So." He spread his hands slightly. "Tell me I didn't waste my time bringing you aboard my ship."
Krayt "Iron Hand" Valen
• Location: Iron Hand's "Throne" Room, Star Eater,
• Objective: Farm out a job
• Company: