Dominion The Wretched Hive | Black Sun Syndicate Dominion of the Kastolar Sector

[Brent Warnel]

Brent listened as Threkkuss spoke:

"The Black Sun has agreed to pay two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand credits per bounty hunter," Threkkuss answered with his gaze momentarily shifting towards the newcomer. "Threkkuss has been tasked with hiring four more bounty hunters, for a total of five, with ideally a wide range of specialty areas covered."

"Two hundred and fifty huh," Brent reiterated back to Threkkuss slowly, "Well..." Brent thought about the bounty, targeting the High Republic. The very same people he had gone to Crusade against. Brent remembered the fighting on Dee'ja Peak, the men he lost there. Why not? Why not pay the High Republic back for his brothers deaths? What more of a reason did he need?

Brent turned to the bartender, "Make it four boilermakers."

As Brent waited for his drinks to arrive he spoke again to Threkkuss. "Seems like we have a deal. Time and place, that's all I need to know," Brent stated as he tossed a small comm-device next to Threkkuss. "You can contact me on that, unless you plan on leaving right after this?" As the drinks were placed in front of him he slid one to Velok Brokentusk , the other to Threkkuss , and kept two for himself. Brent tossed a credit chip to the bartender and waited on Threkkuss' answer.

 

[CT-312]

//: Eira Dyn , Jacen Breska , Scherezade deWinter , Darth Carnifex | Open //:
//: Lanupa ,Kastolar Sector//:
//: Attire //:
//: EQUIPMENT: M.I. 'Halo' jump boots | Contact Lenses | Navi/Barca //:
//: WEAPONS: M.I. Model 7 shotgun| LO-22S| Sunshot Pistol| M.I. Model 6 hybrid pistol //:
//: DROIDS: 1 x LK War-X //:
//: ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: Kushute Grenades | Shiva Knife | S.A.N.D. Powder //:
//: 1 x Arrow head of Absence | Taozin amulet | LK Spider Slicer Droid //:
//: Objective II - LANUPA RAID //:​

The LK War-X’s eyes burned molten gold through the soft flurry of falling snow. Two small circular predatory lights in the pale white curtain. Faintly pulsing with each mechanical breath. Yellow golden shifted to blood red. Lenses narrowed as it tracked movement in the distance. Steam vented from its flanks in slow hisses. Each exhale billowing in the frigid air before fading into the light snow storm. Its synthesized deep low growl rolled through the quiet. Resonating.

Ahead a lone patrolman stumbled into view. Breaking from the shadows of the Wellness Spa’s perimeter. Panic twisted his movements. Becoming clumsy. Snow burst around his legs with every frantic step. The sound of ragged breathing emitted from his helmet’s vocoder. Suddenly, his boot caught on an unseen edge of ice.

WHUMP. Going down hard. The snow swallowed the patrolman halfway. His helmet tumbled forward while his blaster skidded away. Disappearing into the drift. Cursing under his breath. The man rolled onto his back. Boots scraping against the white powder. Scooting back in retreat. His gloves frantically patted against his chest and belt looking for the radio.

One hydraulic leap closed the gap. The War-X’s claws dug deep into the snow packed ground as it landed. Machine jaws snapped open. Fangs clamping around the man’s torso, just enough to lift him. With a sharp pivot, flung him aside. The patrolman let out a cry that was cut short by the impact. Before he could rise, the War-X pounced again. Snow erupted under its mass. A Quandanium Steel reinforced paw slammed into his chest. Pinning him. Pneumatic hissed. The battle droid’s mouth opened wide. Gears in its jaw whirred as the head angled down—

“Stop.” An order cut clean through the moment and silence.

The War-X froze mid-motion. Red optics flickered toward the voice. CT-312 emerged from the pale fog of snowfall. The distinct outline of camo plates and cold weathered gear, the battle droid recognized immediately. Eyes shifting from red back to yellow. The Scout strode forward with steady confidence of someone who’d already decided the outcome.

As the battle droid’s head twisted back to its prey, mechanical optics stared into the patrolman’s eyes. Briefly shifted back to red as it emitted a guttural mechanical roar in his face. Vibrating the snow around them. The patrolman squeezed his eyes shut. Chest heaving. The War-X stepped back, eyes yellow. Crunching through the snow to CT-312’s side.

It lowered its head brushing its cold metal muzzle against her gloved palm in a silent request for praise. CT-312’s fingers slid over the armor plating. A casual scratch beneath the optic, her attention still on the man in the snow. He laid there gasping. Chest rising in bursts. The Scout can see the relief beginning to crack through the fear.

CT-312 crouched beside him. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the gear.” Drawing a vibroblade knife from the back of her belt. It’s dark edge against the snow. “Dents, blood, the works.” Vocoder flattened her tone into something almost amused. “That’d be a shame now, wouldn’t it?”

—[ Present ]—

Crrksh. Crrksh. Crrksh….

Boots sank into the snow with a muffled crrksh. The sound was swallowed quickly by the falling snow. CT-312 exhaled through the helmet’s modulator, a grumble more than a breath. Why was it always snow? This would be the… third or fourth time now? Each mission was a different patch of frozen hell. And each one trying to freeze the Scout’s ass off.

Replacing her Halcyon armor with the ‘found’ gear, blending in with the Spa's outer security. A passing lone patrolman rounded the far corner of the Wellness Spa. Giving a small nod of acknowledgement, the patrolman returned it without suspicion. Slowly vanishing into the drifting snowfall. Alone again. CT-312’s gaze cut to the mission briefing on her HUD. Arbiter issued, but orders of a different employer from the Black Sun this time. It wasn’t guard duty. Something with a bit more… entertainment value.

<:// Location: Lanupa, Kastolar Sector //:>
<:// Assigned: Razmir Tezhyn //:>
<:// Environment: Cold, heavy snow, limited visibility //:>
<:// Local Threats: Corporate & private security forces, local resistance //:>
<:// Primary Objective: Wellness Spa & Surrounding Area. Take back Skull Ridge Mountains //:>
<:// By any means necessary //:>
<:// Possible Treasure beneath Spa. Pillage and plunder authorized //:>
<:// Assigned Squad Unit: Jacen Breska | Eira Dyn | Scherezade deWinter | CT-312 //:>

Could be worse. It could be Hoth again. At least this place had a spa on top. Not that CT-312 cared. Never really had the luxury to miss. TK-710 on the other hand… He had begged her to buy him time here. Something about a spa date with the new woman in his life. Eira.

CT-312 let a sigh slip audibly through the vocoder. A good ‘wingman’, TK-710 called her. This mission could’ve been over with a quick strike… But for now, infiltration would buy him the time he wanted for his date. As for the rest of the squad, they all should already be inside. Doing… whatever they were doing. Either way, they all had until she took control of the security and surveillance network to enjoy themselves. Before all hell breaks loose. CT-312’s HUD pinged, pulling her focus.

[ BARCA ]
[ Incoming Blizzard / Snowstorm ]
[ Communications interference expected ]
[ ETA: 1–2 hours ]

A shame, really. This place could’ve doubled as a shipyard. Imagine a repair dock merged with the spa. Pirates and smugglers lounging while their ships were being worked on. Another market to make UC’s, but that wasn’t her problem. CT-312 wasn’t here to draw up business models. Sending out a brief update to the squad.

[ Status update ]
[ Incoming Blizzard. Outside comms interference likely. ]
[ Heading to Security Control Room. ]
[ Stand-by. ]

Time to work. The Scout keyed the local comm frequency. Opening a line to the Wellness Spa staff. “There’s something out here. Big. Could be dangerous if it wanders too close. Requesting extra patrols to track it. Sending last sighting. Over.”

A reply crackled back. “Roger that. Dispatching more units and patrols to sighting.”

Perfect. That would keep the outside security busy. CT-312’s gloved hand brushed against the War-X’s head one last time. “Go.” The battle droid gave a low static-laden rumble. Prowling away into the snowy plains. Soon disappearing from sight.

Turning towards the main facility of the Wellness Spa, CT-312 adjusted her scarf. Taking her time as she continued to steadily make her way in.

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Kwenn Station, Tallifax Inn
Wearing: Dress
Tag: Mauve du Vain Mercy Quinn Varanin

"As you wish." she smirked.

"I will do the fighting, you can do the sitting pretty."

Kaila walked with her to the bar, occasionally glancing at the odd pirate or two, most of which made way. For as much as the Sith spoke of fighting, really she was content to let her dark aura chase away potential problems and enjoy the evening with this 'Mauve' character who'd so graciously invited her.

"Merenzane gold?" she hummed in part amusement, part surprise.

"You're telling me I paid for your drinks up there but you can afford the good stuff?"

"You owe me a glass, you know."

But her smile faded, following those violet eyes towards the Zeltron's friends. Mercy she was glad to see, but... her?
The music and bustle of the inn all but drowned in silence the moment she saw Quinn Varanin in the crowd. That annoyingly perfect hair, that outfit. She hadn't seen her since the war council, or perhaps she was misremembering, it was all a blur right now.

It felt like her bodice was strangling her.

"Ohh, friends. We should grab a booth."

"...friends...?" she breathed.

Her eyes were so wide when she finally tore them away.

"M-mauve I don't think..."

​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //: Mercy //: Kaila Irons //:
//: Objective 1 //:
//: Attire //:

As she finished poking at Mercy for not inviting her to the events on Hapes, Quinn meant to look again towards Gerra. The man, though, seemed to have wandered with his comrades, which now left a clear view of people coming into this portion of the bar.

Quinn paused, easily recognizing the Zelton. Her face lit up into a bright smile as the tips of her ears blushed, thankfully hidden by her ashen hair. Set her beer down behind her at the bar and placed a coaster on top of it — a universal sign of 'I'll be back'. Quinn pushed off the bar, a hand running through her hair as she fixed it, even showing it off to the woman she was going to meet.

Her tunnel vision opened as she realized she was wearing a silken robe; beside her was a dress she knew quite intimately, having bought it custom for the woman wearing it. She didn't need to know that it was Kaila; just from the spiked shoulders alone, it was enough. She felt the tightness in her throat as she took in that they were potentially here together.

Quinn prepared herself mentally and continued her way to meet them at the edge of where she and Mercy were with Gerra.

"Hey Mauve," she offered her smile to the Zeltron and then looked towards Kaila. Another time, another mission, Quinn quickly remembered the small talk they had about using the woman's name in public. Knowing this and knowing the gaping wound that never stopped aching from their broken bond, Quinn knew she had no right to use the woman's name.

"Surprised to see you, Anathemous, but good to see you as well." Quinn's voice never faltered, never showed the storm of emotions that swelled in her chest.

Her happiness in seeing Mauve was clouded by the mixed feelings in seeing Anathemous.

Quinn was taught in her youth to never break or show her true feelings. The mask of composure never faded or cracked; she remained the poised and perfect Princess.

"A booth? You're right — maybe Mercy can clear some space." Another smile, the effort to hold it waning.

Thankfully, she needed to turn around to speak to Mercy. A few steps, and she stood before the woman who had known her longer than anyone in this Inn. Her bangs shaded her eyes, hiding the faint tremor in her expression.

But it was there for the briefest of moments — her mask broke, her composure faltered. She was no longer perfect.

Thankfully, the consistent channeling of her hidden force aura blocked anyone from being able to perceive her emotions.

The only person who could notice anything...would be Mauve.

"Could you help me find a booth?" she asked Mercy lightly.

"Mauve and Anathemous want to join us — Gerra seems content with his posse…"

 

[Jacen Breska]

SPA DATE​

WEARING:: Pictured
EQUIPMENT: NOTHING
LOCATION: :: LANUPA - WELLNESS SPA CENTER ::
TAG: Eira Dyn | CT-312 | Scherezade deWinter

You had to take the time to enjoy the little things. That was what 312 failed to understand. Sure, they could have just been in and out already, complete the mission and have been sectors away by now. But what good was taking all of these missions if you didn't get to enjoy the fruits of your labor? AND it was a perk of the job!
Maaaybe he asked her to hold off commencing the mission for a little bit longer. And maaaaaaaaaaybe he used the opportunity to spend more time with Eira. But she decided to wait out in the cold while he spend time with a lovely and terrifying woman. That was her fault. He was sure she was out there in the blizzard lamenting her agreement with him to hold off. But she promised him some time, he was going to take as much time as he could get.

And he had missed the life of luxury.

He turned to Eira as they sit, relaxing next to a hot tub, both having swapped their combat gear for comfortable robes.

"Not too bad for a second date," he said with a smirk. "And on company dime! Could have done much worse," he chuckled softly then smiled wider, "I don't know if this kind of thing is usually your thing," he said, looking around at the space around them, "But it used to be mine. So I'm glad for the chance to do it again, even if it's just a little thing. And there's no one in the whole galaxy I'd rather be with in this moment," he finished as he put his hand on hers, seeking a tender moment before he chuckled to himself and shook his head, "Hope you wouldn't kill me for touching your hand It'd put a really big damper on our relationship."

​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Objective: Spa Day! Wait, we had a mission?
Tags: Eira Dyn | Jacen Breska | Darth Carnifex | CT-312 | Open for all
Loadout: Generic big floofy white towel. And fuzzy white slippers.

---

Something… something… mission… objective… Scherezade, in this specific moment, forgot entirely that she was supposed to care. A low, happy moan escaped her lips as pressure dug deep into the muscles of her back, right over the scar shaped like a Jart. It had been far too long since anyone had given that spot professional attention. Years since she'd skinned herself to rid her body of the tattoo that once lay there. Years since she'd severed ties to the Mandragora. And yet… Holy frigging Sithspit Force bullchit, this massage was good enough to make her consider doing it all over again, just for an excuse to relive this sensation.

The spa was a galaxy away from the cold corridors and smoke-filled cantinas she usually found herself in. Warm light glowed from delicate sconces carved into the walls, catching on the slow swirl of fragrant steam that drifted lazily through the air. Meiloorun blossom sweetened the scent, undercut by something sharper that promised to coax every stubborn knot into surrender. She lay face-down on the wide table, the smooth, almost frictionless fabric beneath her alive with a faint, steady warmth. A towel, fuzzy and floofy and so white it almost radiated, covered her from the waist down, trapping the heat in her limbs.

All four of the masseuse's hands were warm even before they touched her, and when they did, moved with deliberate intent. The first press began at the base of her neck, thumbs circling slow and unhurried into the knots that had taken up permanent residence between her shoulders. The pressure was firm enough to hurt, but it was the sweet, addictive kind of pain she adored, deep, hard, and dissolving into molten relief. Her battle-hardened muscles resisted at first, but each stroke stripped away a little more defence. The oil was almost invisible, except for the faint cooling tingle it left in its wake, a sensation that made her skin hum under the steady rhythm of the masseuse's fingers.

She vaguely recalled she wasn't meant to be having this much fun yet. This was supposed to be business, not pleasure. And yet… Sithspit, for the first time in a long forever, she doubted her willingness to finish the job. Or at least, not before milking every last second out of this table. There were others here too, allies for the mission, but unless someone came to drag her away, Scherezade was going to let the professionals keep working.

 

[Threkkuss]

"Hold," his odd-fingered hand rose up in protest.

"This one knows of the Velok the Brokentusk," those bug-eyes set themselves over the Whiphid, "But Threkkuss does not know you... whoever it is you are."

The Gand had come to know many of the underworld's players, minor and major, so long as the minor ones still made moves of their own. There were a million and more bounty hunters, of course, with few able to make a real name for themselves. He did not recognise this one standing before him now.

"Tell this one who you are, and Threkkuss may consider you for the job."

Velok Brokentusk - Brent Warnel

 

[Mercy]

Quinn Varanin | Mauve du Vain | Kaila Irons | Hasuras Na-Gerra

Gerra opted to go hang out with his pals, which was fine enough, team building exercises were important she was told.

"See ya later, big boy, remind me to tell you about a few ideas I got for Atrisia..." She smirked over his shoulder. Hapes was a fun time, but it still had not earned her any bounties. Mercy wasn't sure how you could murder the Queen of Hapes and not get even a single bounty for the effort. It was enough to make her finish her entire glass.

Over the edge she watched the exchange between Quinn, Mauve and Kaila.

Oh, la, la.

She inclined her head to Mauve and Kaila, or rather Ana. But otherwise didn't interrupt the exchange that revealed so much. Mercy wasn't Echani, but much of her years were spend around Spencer, Quinn, she knew body language was not a metaphor for them. It didn't reveal everything to her, she had no idea about the history between Ana and Quinn.

But when Quinn came wandering back towards her, Mercy's eyebrow rose up and she lightly reached out. Tilting Quinn's head up a fraction by her chin. The movement obscured by Quinn's back to the other two women.

"Chin up, princess." Mercy purred softly, for her ears alone. "Ashin Varanin's daughter, the Heir Presumptive... and most importantly, my núro, should only have reason to celebrate instead of languishing."

With that moment of generosity done she let go of Quinn and casually wandered over to a corner booth currently being occupied by a bunch of smugglers. She didn't say anything, just glanced on over to the broken window that she had thrown a grown man through. A beat. Then they took the hint and quickly scurried off before Mercy dropped herself lazily in the corner of the corner booth.

Both arms like tree trunks unfolded across the backs of the booth.

Mercy took up way more space than she needed to, but that was just the way she liked it.

"Booth secured, ladies, settle in. Mauve, darling, I haven't seen you in quite a while. What have you been up to? And Anathemous too, my oh my, are we sure this station can support all three of us in one room?" Was that tension in Mauve's shoulders too? Was Mercy the only one having a good time right now without being stressed the fark out?

She ordered another round of drinks for them all.

 

[Brent Warnel]

Brent looked at the bug's big eyes before slowly moving his arm toward the comm-device and pressing a button. Up popped a miniaturized picture of Brent, his guild license, comm-frequencies, and other menial information about himself.

"Voila," Brent said sarcastically.

"Brent Warnel. I'm licensed by the guild, and you're looking for bounty hunters," Brent glanced around. "And it seems you might be in short supply of them."

He took his helmet off and set it next to him on the bar before sipping his drink. Brent almost grimaced at how disgusting the drink was. That wasn't a boilermaker, what the hell was it?

"What else do you want to know, Gand? But be mindful, if you ask too many questions, you have to buy the next round."

Threkkuss Velok Brokentusk

 

[Mauve du Vain]

Both arms like tree trunks unfolded across the backs of the booth.

Mercy took up way more space than she needed to, but that was just the way she liked it.

"Booth secured, ladies, settle in. Mauve, darling, I haven't seen you in quite a while. What have you been up to? And Anathemous too, my oh my, are we sure this station can support all three of us in one room?"

Never one to squander opportunity, Mauve slid into the booth. She might have stopped and provided some civilized distance between herself and the woman known as violence incarnate, Mercy Star-Arm, but she did not. Mauve scooched as close as could be to the woman's side, a smirk plying her painted lips.

"You devil, you just want those big arms around all three of us."

Mauve had felt the confusion of emotions blurring between Kaila and Quinn. Some history there. It felt messy. Mauve mgiht have chose to sit next to Quinn, to try to find some comfort in her, but that situation was... complicated. Quinn had already said there was someone else.

Mauve didn't want complicated, she wanted simple.

And everything about Mercy oozed a plain, brutal simplicity that delighted Mauve. She knew exactly what the woman did and did not want. And right now, Mauve needed to feel something, anything, that would take the memory of searing hot iron held close enough to taste.

Mauve sipped from the bottle of Merenzane gold, then got to her knees on the booth and started to tip the bottle back into Mercy's mouth.

"What I'm up to is getting us insanely drunk, bottom's up, darling."

Mercy | Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons

 

[Xeykard]

His kind had never been pirates, but that it was the Sith he avoided today. Scum smelled. Sith reeked. In time the others departed; one, head and shoulders above the rest, remained.

"Hasuras Na-Gerra." Rarely did he cross someone larger than him, even in so vast a galaxy. But the Vahla's stature had never been solely physical -- even as an initiate, he had stood as a paragon of his people.

"Quite the success on Hapes," he said. "Firefist surely prays for your success here, that they are not faced again with such a scourge."

Hasuras Na-Gerra ​

 

[Nala]

Location: Lanupa - Objective 2

Tags: OPEN

Scorched circuitry still hung heavy in the air. Nala moved through the resort's executive wing, her boots clicking sharp against the vaulted ceiling. The administrator stumbled ahead, her blaster pressed hard against his spine. His expensive silk jacket, once perfect, now had a jagged tear where she'd dragged him from his office.

They reached a private suite. It was less fancy than the guest rooms, but alive with the hum of secure dataports and encrypted comm lines. Nala kicked the door shut, pushing him into the plush leather chair in front of the main terminal. "Every guest," she said, her voice a low, steady command. "Names. Accounts. Assets. Transfer all of it."

His hands shook as he typed commands, screens flickering with high-value data: identities of senators' mistresses, shell company ledgers, shadow accounts worth entire city blocks. Nala didn't take her eyes off him. One hand rested on her blaster, the other scrolled through the data feed with cool precision. This wasn't just theft, it was a complete takeover. The Black Sun would squeeze every last credit from this place, and she was the one making the cut.

When the last file finished transferring, showing green, she leaned over him, checking the logs. "Done?" "Yes, I…" The muzzle flash lit the office for a moment. His body slumped forward, cheek thudding against the datapad. No loose ends, no witnesses.

Nala keyed her comm. Her voice was clipped and precise. "This is Sable Cut. Bring in the fleet." Outside, the clear mountain sky would soon grow dark. Black Sun warships would descend, their hulls blotting out the sun like a grim omen. Landing craft would touch down on the resort's shattered terraces, disgorging soldiers who would strip the spa bare and occupy the Skull Ridge peaks.

She stepped over the corpse without a glance, the terminal humming softly behind her. The data was theirs. The hostages were theirs. Soon, the treasure, if it existed, would be theirs too. In Nala's world, possession wasn't just most of the law. It was the only law.

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Kwenn Station, Tallifax Inn
Wearing: Dress
Tag: Mauve du Vain Mercy Quinn Varanin

"...princess..." she nodded slowly.

All the while she fought to maintain that thin line pressed into her lips.

That was it. No questions, no small talk, she arrived with as much explanation as Quinn had left her with. And it was not until the echani turned that she allowed herself to breath again, rubbing her gloved hands as they threaded behind her back to keep them out of view, for whatever good that may do her image after a display like that.

It took no time at all for Mauve to move in as Mercy cleared them a booth, but it took a few silent seconds for the young Darth to process that the world around her was still moving. Everyone was already settling in by the time she arrived, deliberately slipping in beside the Zeltron so that Mercy's large figure would hopefully separate Kaila from her.

"Booth secured, ladies, settle in. Mauve, darling, I haven't seen you in quite a while. What have you been up to? And Anathemous too, my oh my, are we sure this station can support all three of us in one room?"

"Oh, I doubt it." she commented with a nervous smile.

A sidelong glance was afforded to the trio, specifically the bottle being poured for Mercy before she could answer.

"Hmh."

"But it's good to see you again, Mercy. Had I known you were here, I might've sought you out myself."

"How fares things in Ashline Terminal?"

​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //: Mercy //: Kaila Irons //:

As much as she hated that nickname, right now -- it was nice. A small reminder that she had an ally here. Someone that she didn't need to protect herself from.

Quinn waited, watching as Mercy did what Mercy does. The booth was cleared easily and quickly, of course, she took the most room up -- but that was Mercy. Her eyes followed Mauve; something had happened. She could read it in the woman's step, the tenseness in her shoulders, and the way that she avoided even looking at her.

Was this related to their last meeting?

Phantom pains shot from her right side; thankfully, bacta and the Force prevented anything terrible from happening to her, and she was able to hide the scar from the gunshot with the hem of her pants. Looking down, her first instinct was that moment, but it was hidden carefully under the decorative belt that hung on the curve of her waist.

Then it had to be the conversation they had. Quinn sighed softly and turned away from the three as they decided to enjoy themselves. Her pint and another shot sounded like better temporary company.

Heading towards the bar, she grabbed the pint, only to find the coaster she had placed on it had been moved. She looked at the liquid and frowned, knowing her luck, it was tampered with, and she shoved it towards the bartender. No words were exchanged, and he switched it out.

"Could I have another shot?" She asked, sliding credits his way. Another no-word exchange, and she grabbed the clear liquid and drank it back. If she was going to survive today, she was going to need to be completely and utterly destroyed.

The burn was nice; it took the edge off her situation. There was nothing she could do or say to fix things with Anathemous -- nothing that didn't sound like an excuse. Maybe she just needed more time to wrap her head around it all.

Mauve, on the other hand, Quinn thought there was something else. Special?

Quinn wrinkled her nose and took a long sip of the beer. She was starting to see why Mercy favored the terrible-tasting liquid.

She shoved her doubts aside, trying not to remember their last meeting. With one last exhale to clear her mind, she headed back towards the trio, which seemed like Mercy was getting a head start.

Quinn laughed.

Every action taken ate at her, but it was easy to hide. Quinn was good at hiding her emotions, hiding everything that on the surface would tell that she was devastated.

She had to be perfect.

"You might need more than that to get Mercy drunk, if I remember right, it took my parents' liqueur cabinet and then the one they kept on the ship to even get her slurring." Quinn quipped.

Thankfully, it wasn't a hard choice where to sit; she took her place next to Mercy and sipped once more the pint she had gotten, then placed it into Mercy's hand.

"There you go, I'm contributing."

 

[Eira Dyn]

Objective: 2 - Spa Day
Outfit: Robe
Tag: Jacen Breska | CT-312 | Scherezade deWinter | Darth Carnifex

Eira had heard from Jacen that there was going to be some mission that the DeathDrop were doing on a spa resort, it was intriguing and the assassin knew that her Master held a connection to the DeathDrop so having both her Master and a potential romantic partner involved in the same mercenary company held interest long enough and seriously enough for Eira to decide to help them on a mission. It was also a chance to experience a second date with Jacen to see how their chemistry worked. Especially with another blend of romance and work.

A white silken robe adorned Eira's figure as she walked into the room, there was a hot tub and a couple of seats, settling down into a chair Eira let the quiet before a mission hang in the air. She was curious to see how others in this DeathDrop operated and how their skills compared and complimented Jacen's. A good team built off one another, which was something Eira had been told. She tended to operate alone, work on taking down others without the need of back up.

"Humidity is not a friend to my hair, but I'll survive." Eira giggled a little as her red gaze shifted from staring into space towards Jacen, noting that his desire to hold her hand. The mention of a relationship as well. "Careful Mister Breska. Some might think you are rushing ahead. As you stated, this is only the second date, no need to jump to a relationship yet. Let's enjoy the courting a little more before labels get attached." Eira winked to him, her fingers caressed his palm before they interlocked with his. "But, even in courtship, handholding can be nice."

A small gesture to say that things were not one sided, Eira just didn't want to rush the matter. Let it flow naturally and see where it goes. "So, you lived a life of luxury? Must be nice for some." Eira poked her tongue out as she chuckled.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

It was not like Him to indulge in such base frivolities. For all the extravagance and opulence His domains possessed, He was quite an austere man at heart. Yet, for all of His disciplines, He found Himself beset by the wishes of His many brides. Ill eager to weather their combined efforts, He'd taken them to the resort-world Lanupa. There, He'd used His extreme wealth and influence to commandeer a large segment of the resort for His personal use, staffing it with His own servants and allowing His wives to enjoy themselves as they wished.

He was thereby left mostly to His own devices, half-submerged in a bubbling pool of hot, steamy water. A Decraniated servant waited on His every need, but for now had entered low-power mode just out of view as the Dark Lord of the Sith allowed Himself to enjoy a momentary relaxation. He slipped further into the water, His midnight black hair spreading out like a fan across the surface of the water.

And to no one in particular, a single word echoed throughout the empty chamber.

"Yup."

CT-312 | Jacen Breska | Scherezade deWinter | Eira Dyn ​

 

[Mercy]

Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons | Mauve du Vain

Mercy was getting the distinct impression that the women were working through some things. And that at least two of them were using her to work through said things.

Luckily Mercy didn't mind that whatsoever.

"I am a simple woman, Mauve... I enjoy the company of brilliant women and I have no shame about it." Mercy drawled lazily as she wrapped her arm around her shoulders and squeezed a little. Was that a tremor? Mercy glanced uncertainly towards the Zeltron woman. It couldn't be her presence, no matter what flirtations she projected. Mauve was a sharp master of the game, no matter how gorgeous Mercy was, she wouldn't be affected by her in that capacity.

But what then could-

Mauve sipped from the bottle of Merenzane gold, then got to her knees on the booth and started to tip the bottle back into Mercy's mouth.

"What I'm up to is getting us insanely drunk, bottom's up, darling."

She smirked and tipped her head back, so Mauve could pour the amber in her waiting mouth. She drank from it with no reservation, until Mauve was satisfied. Then she'd press a light kiss on her cheek. "You certainly are in a fun mood tonight, Mauvie. I certainly don't mind benefiting from it."

"But it's good to see you again, Mercy. Had I known you were here, I might've sought you out myself."

"How fares things in Ashline Terminal?"

"Oh, I am only a holocall away, darling." Mercy purred with a soft sigh. "The old man's grasp over the Terminal is rock-solid, I am told it has done wonders on the profit margins. You should come and visit me, I will show you around, I imagine Echnos can become dull... the same ol' scenery all day long..."

Quinn sat down again, now right next to her on the other side.

Oh, yes, they were certainly going through something. Mercy's arm went around that pair of shoulders too, squeezing softly. She accepted the bottle but instead of drinking from it herself, she followed Mauve's lead and gave the Princess something to drink from. It was good to be in a sharing mood among friends.

"What can I say? I am a big woman. But I am sure with enough effort and commitment, you three can drink me under the table."

 

[Jacen Breska]

SPA DATE​

WEARING:: Pictured
EQUIPMENT: NOTHING
LOCATION: :: LANUPA - WELLNESS SPA CENTER ::
TAG: Eira Dyn | CT-312 | Scherezade deWinter

Jacen stammered for a moment, blustering, before he pursed his lips together and exhaled, a thin smile on his face before he cocked his head, "Whose jumping ahead now?" he smiled teasingly before he continued, "we have a relationship together," he chuckled softly, "I see what you mean, but that's not what I meant. CT-312 and I have a relationship, you have a relationship with everyone you meet."

He gestured between them, not for a second loosening his grip on her hand, "This is a relationship. Maybe just not with a name yet," he said. then added with a grin, "I'm liking my chances so far, but I'm in the same place as you. Not looking to attach anything just yet, just enjoying my time with you so far."

He raised his eyes to her hair and shook his head, "Your hair looks fantastic but I might be biased. Mm, I am biased."

"It get frizzy?" He asked, "There's proper hair care stations here somewhere. Have a professional really clean your scalp. Nice and fresh and probably the softest it's ever been," he said with a nod, barely hiding the excitement to get his hair washed, "Not that you don't wash your hair good, y'know, I'm sure you do, they're just that good!" He nodded even more fervently. "Or maybe I'm just that bad," he said with a laugh, running his free hand through his short hair, "Never had to really care for my hair. I always kept it short." He finished then rubbed the bare sides of his head muttering, "The mohawk though that's....that's new..." A souvenir from a bet he lost to 312. He did happen to like the look, but sometimes he missed his full head of hair.

He leaned back slightly, letting his smile fade into something quieter, "I mentioned my lavish upbringing before hadn't I?" He asked, tilting his head, "I probably spoke about it with some...mmm...disdain. But the more people I meet, the more I realize how shit the Galaxy can be. I had it pretty good. Sitting here and singing melancholy because my life is easy doesn't make me likable," he said, then shrugged his shoulders, "It makes me a dick. Recontextualized my upbringing... And if I said I didn't enjoy the luxuries I'd be a liar. It's why I was so grateful for the opportunity to bring you here," he turned to her and smiled warmly, "This was something that I enjoyed doing before, and I didn't realize it until I made the decision to strike it on my own. So I jumped at the chance to share it with you."

He stuck his tongue out back at her in a playful challenge, "And yes, it was nice. My life was pretty good. So I'm eager to get back to that but earn it myself, for me. And I'm gonna take every quiet moment I can to enjoy the life I'm fighting to build." He looked down at the water at their feet, absent mindedly kicking the water around before he met her eyes again and held her gaze, "So… what about you?" he asked, tilting his head. "You're powerful. Deliberate. Everything you do feels like it's got purpose...But what do you look like when you set that purpose down? When it's just you, no mission, no galaxy to impress...no expectation."

His fingers curled lightly around hers, the warmth lingering.
"What's Eira's perfect day look like?"

​

 

[Mauve du Vain]

Everyone was already settling in by the time she arrived, deliberately slipping in beside the Zeltron so that Mercy's large figure would hopefully separate Kaila from her.

As the tall blonde moved to join them, Mauve finished pouring for Mercy and took another enormous sip from the bottle herself before handing it to Anathemous. Whatever was passing between her and the princess was a matter for another time. She looked, however, like she too could use a stronger drink.

"I owe you one, after all."

Turning back to the other two, Mauve tapped her lip, hmmming.

"You might need more than that to get Mercy drunk, if I remember right, it took my parents' liqueur cabinet and then the one they kept on the ship to even get her slurring." Quinn quipped.

"What can I say? I am a big woman. But I am sure with enough effort and commitment, you three can drink me under the table."

"I'm certainly willing to try," she smiled mischievously, knowing her own exceptional tolerance - thank you, two livers - might mean she really could drink the woman under, despite the difference in size. Interesting, she wasn't sure she knew that Mercy and Quinn had a history? Did she? Quinn had not made a point of emphasizing it when they...

Well.

It didn't matter.

"Tell me about Hapes, Mercy. Was it everything you were hoping? Should have brought Anathemous along. Wait, wait - my turn."

Without further adieu the Zeltron flopped around in her seat, feet draping over Anathemous' leg, while her head sat in Mercy's lap, mouth open.

Mercy | Kaila Irons | Quinn Varanin

 

[Aurellia]

BANTHA'S WILD CANTINA| KWENN STATION (OBJ 1)
Isur | Jerec Asyr | Nero Drake | Levi

​

A queen - even a future queen - was never late; everyone else was simply early. It was clear the pirates didn’t wait for her coming to start the celebration, as evidenced by puddles being mopped by custodial droids in the corridor. Aurellia did not mind. A man in a drunken stupor was often easier to rally around a cause or a pretty face. Maybe she could offer less for their buyouts than originally planned.

Strutting into the cantina like she owned it, Aurellia gave the general impression that she didn't belong. Much cleaner than an average pirate, for starters. Silks and velvets had been traded in for an ensemble of ebony and gold - a simple jumpsuit and boots with a cloak trailing behind her. When a stray crew member stepped in front of her, she stopped, rather than moving with the current. Some utterance died on his lips when they made eye contact, and he melted back into the crowd around the pit, awaiting the next fight. Aurellia continued onto the bar, settling on a stool between nearby patrons. The scent of an entire distillery wafted off the ithorian with an entourage two seats down. Slowly, a handful of credits slid across the counter, catching the eye of the bartender.

"I'll cover the rest of the night." Projection reserved for courts and ballrooms carried her voice to the far corners of the room, over music and discussion both. "We drink to the memory of the Queen Mother and the opportunity she left in her wake. I'll be leading an armada into the Hapes Cluster to seize what is mine… if any are bold enough to follow me and carve a name for themselves amongst new stars."

Golden orbs swept over the bar and tables alike.

"Drink up, darlings, and remember: I certainly pay well."