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

[Quinn Varanin]

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

And that was it.

Quinn watched everything unfold, and she had hit her limit. There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to keep her where she was. As the three did what they did, Quinn slowly stood and, without announcement, left the trio in the booth.

There was nothing for her to say or do. But she wasn't going to continue to force herself to watch everything.

She had things to think about.

First, as she left, she went to the bar. It wasn't hard; the shot was waiting for her the moment she arrived. It was as if the bartender knew what was happening. She took it and they waved their hand, reminding her that it was in the house.

Quinn nodded, then brushed her hair back, her annoyingly perfect hair.

Fresh air sounded good, or as fresh as you could get on a station. Hands pushing off from the bar, she left a tip and then headed out.

 

[Antar]

It's true what they say, never meet your heroes.

First of all, Antar never asked for anyone to idolize him. Isar's disappointment is his own fault.

Second... There isn't a second point. But after a considerable amount of time passes, Antar returns to the Lodge. His step is staggered. Unbalanced. He sways back up to the bar where the Zeltron is. His heavy hand slaps on the man's shoulder.

"Hey, man," Antar slumps into the empty seat next to Isar, "Look. That. That wasn't me. I've never had a fan before. Didn't know how to deal with it."

He slings his arm up on the bar top and sets a metal, palm-sized case in between them. Antar thumbs a tiny latch on it and the case springs open, revealing a neat row of hand-rolled cigarettes. A special blend. The Antar Arrangement. Real premium stuff.

"Sorry for before. How about a little ciggy, huh?"

 

[Isar du Vain]

"Sorry for before. How about a little ciggy, huh?"

Isar was still at the bar, trying to drink away his problems. Strangely, they hadn't left. In fact, they apparently kept coming back.

He spun around on the stool.

"Oh," he did like a nice cigar. He scratched his neck. "These aren't, like, prank cigars or anything, are they mate?"

Isar reached a tentative hand forward and picked one up, held it under his nose and gave it a good long sniff.

Mmmm.

Plucking a cutter from the case, he fit it around the cigar and chopped down. "You gonna smoke one with me?"

Antar

 

[Drakon Teague]

Aurellia Nero Drake The Madclaw Jerec Asyr Isur Oleander Levi

Drakon grinned.

Truth be told he wasn't sure a pirate fleet could take back a powerful sector like the Hapes, but then legend had it that Hapes started as a pirate haven, maybe it was just there job to remind them of their glorious or vainglorious past. Drakon was already planning ahead.

"Should I stay on the bridge of The Bone Pyre my Frigate or should I take to my Hangman's Lament my heavily armed patrol craft or should I lead my Skull and Bones pirates in their starfighters like my own Reaver's Revenge."

Drakon had got out a holo projectors and swiped through each of his ships as he talked. Drakon was quite proud of his ships, even prouder of their names. He liked showing them off whenever and wherever he could.

"Madclaw ay? I've heard the name can't say I've ever had the pleasure personally."
Drakon had also heard that Madclaw was a powerful Dark Jedi, one who had slaughtered multiple jedi in his time. Drakon was wondering how to ask for an introduction when the Madclaw himself entered the room. Roaring his declaration of going to Hapes.

"Aaaah!" Drakon raised his glass and roared back, his crew following along.

"@The Madclaw ! Have a drink with the Skull and Bones pirates!"

"What about you fine gentleman of fortune @Nero Drake @Levi What are you flying?"

"I like ships you see. Some day I'll build my own fleet. Maybe this raid to Hapes would be a good start. Right now I got my eye on a couple of [URL='https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Cumulus-class_Corsair']Cumulus class Corsairs[/URL] with modified shields and upgrading the Bone Pyre to a MC140 Scythe. I like Mon Calamari ships, I'm Pamarthen I like vessels that go on water as well as space. I know they're generally considered Republic or GA, but I reckon with a Skull and Bones paint job they'd be a valuable addition. Even got a name all picked out 'Reaper's Scythe'. What do you think catchy ain't it?"

Drakon grinned.

"I'd offer to buy the next round, but seeing as we're on the good Highnesses tab that seems unnecessary."

 

[Koda Fett]

Fett left the Hunter's Lodge after creating quite the scene, having carved the cybernetic from the collarbone of an oversized Arkanian. All for fifteen thousand credits, courtesy of some quarter-Jawa ripperdoc owner. With that new bundle of credits in mind, he went to resupply and travelled to the lower decks that housed the pirates and all their ill-gotten gains.

He was mid-stride, glancing between the marketplaces with that helmeted gaze when he saw Oleander and her stall. Taking note of the vials plastered with Mandalorian armour that appeared strikingly familiar, he looked to them, to Oleander, back them and Oleander again. He didn't say a word, in the end, and left with a suspicion he should be receiving some kind of royalty cheque.

 

[Eira Dyn]

Objective: 2 - Spa Day
Outfit: Robe
Tag: Jacen Breska

The counter from Jacen was amusing, it was a classic defence. Pivot into accusations and point out that the meaning of the word had other definitions, other ways it can be interpreted. Eira didn't mind this, some would be argumentative or doubling down on the fact they were right. Eira didn't need that, she didn't want that. This was meant to be a day of relaxing. Soothing of the body, mind and soul. At least until the mission kicked into high gear. So, she allowed Jacen to explain his position, uninterrupted and leaned back into the chair, her eyes closed as she listened. It might seem to others that she was ignoring or being rude. But to Eira, it was allowing herself the best chance to absorb his words, understand his position. Focused on Jacen's words going through her mind.

"It can get frizzy, and then ends up a tangled mess. Also dries out so much, but should be fine here. Not super humid and not going to be spending days here, so you get to just enjoy my normal hair." Eira explained, she wasn't concerned with how the spa treated her hair. Though it was amusing to see Jacen stumble over his words and tell Eira her hair is as lovely it is. "That is sweet but having a professional taking care of your hair is always going to make it look the best."

Grinning to Jacen, "well the mohawk is nice. Has you standing out more than a simple cut." Opening her eyes and looking over to his haircut, "adds an edge to your look that I like." Eira gave a smirk and a wink to Jacen.

Hearing about his lavish style some more, Eira was intrigued, since it did not fit the background of someone she had figured would end up in the military. "What made you enlist? It seems counterintuitive to desiring this kind of lifestyle."

"Perfect day without a mission? Without training and getting closer to the dream I have?" Eira blinked, a day where she did nothing productive sounded more like a nightmare for the young Sith than a dream. "I don't get peaceful, restful days. There is too much I need to do. Too much I need to achieve."

Thinking a little longer, leaning back and looking forward. "Death. Death is when I have a relaxing, perfect day in peace." Eira chuckled to herself. It was morbid, but there was some insight and truth to the life of a Sith. There was no room for peace, it was a lie. There was no moment for rest. It invited negligence and inspired others to strike her down while her guard was down.

A threat that would grow as she grew in more status and power.

 

[Jacen Breska]

SPA DATE​

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

Jacen studied Eira as she answered his question, talking about what her perfect day would be. She was entirely consumed by her ambition. Any day without a mission or a goal was a waste of time. It meant that, as much as she might enjoy Jacen, she might have only been here because the mission was here.

There was a part of Jacen that felt a pang of pain that very quickly disappeared as she smiled. He'd never be her top priority. She was hardly going to dote on him, and any romantic relationship they had would never be a typical one. But, then again, she wasn't a typical woman. That passion that drove her, her ambition, the danger that emanated from her...that's what made her attractive to Jacen. He didn't need to be her whole life, he decided, just a part of it.

"Making a mental note," he said, his thumb tracing a circle on her hand, "I wanted to get an idea of how to give you that perfect day in the future. But these moments...I'll steal these little moments with you, and maybe help you with your goals."

He breathed deep and exhaled slowly as he looked at Eira, the smile still plastered across his face. He shook his head as he spoke, "Most days I don't know how I feel about the Order. But I have a pretty good idea how I feel about you. I like you, I enjoy your company, and I want to spend more time with you."

He joined her, leaning back and relaxing against the chair, "Whether that's doing peaceful things like this or doing what we're really here to do." He shrugged a shoulder, "Doesn't matter to me. I'll steal whatever moment I can with you, then help you blow chit up afterwards." He chuckled, then let the moment hang in the air as he thought about her question.

"You know, I think in some ways you and I are very very similar. It's why you're so in love with me," he flashed her a cheeky half-smile before his face hardened, "but...imagine everything you are was...designed. Y'know. Fabricated. I got the best tutors my Parents could get. I enjoyed the highest comforts and luxuries available. I lived better then most of the galaxy... And I had friends because their parents told them to. I got the highest marks because the teachers were scared not to. I existed less as a person and more an extension of my Father, of the family. Every aspect of my life was controlled."

His face pulled into a small scowl, "I wasn't going to let that be my life. It's my life. No one else's. So...I left. Got disowned by my parents, probably the greatest feeling of my life, and joined the Sith Imperial Academy."
He exhaled slowly and turned to catch her eyes, taking in their crimson beauty before he scoffed, "didn't go well. A lifetime of arrogance doesn't prepare you for a life where people don't have to like you. I did well enough, but my instructors thought I was...well...you've met me." He chuckled softly.
"So they kicked me out. Kicked me to Planetary Defense Forces, militia, and washed their hands of me..." His eyes dropped low and he bit the inside of his lip in thought of what could have been, "but, because of that, I got to where I am now, became who I am. Everything you see, the hair, this," he pointed to the tattoo under his eye, "It's just my own little rebellion against daddy's plan. He wanted a perfect son, he got me. And I think that's hilarious," he let out a cold laughter.

"I'd be a liar if I said I didn't miss the comforts. I like fancy food, fancy clothes, a fancy living space. I want to get there, again, but I want to get there because of me. Of who I am and what I done, not because my last name."

He raised his eyes again and chuckled, "that makes me sound shallow. My ambition is more then an expensive meal. It's still taking shape...what exactly I want. In my heart, y'know. Right now I'm content with saying I want everything. I want to go from nothing to everything. I want to show everyone, the galaxy, I'm not just another normal person. I'm the normal person. The benchmark, the standard. The one to beat. I want Empyrean to respect me. Mandalore to fear me. The Jedi to hate me."

Adrenaline began to pump inside him. Heat pulsed in his veins, his knee bouncing once before he forced a slow exhale, trying to stop the rant before it continued and he started to rally a revolution, "but right now? I think I just want this time with you." He squeezed her hand again for a moment, "But I've yammered for a bit. I wanna know more about you, this dream you have and how I can help make it a reality. And maybe we can find a perfect day that doesn't include your demise. I've actually started growing attached."



​

 

[Mercy]

Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons | Mauve du Vain

Queenslayer.

Oh, Mercy liked that one.

She'd have to remember it somehow. Which might be a challenge if this night was truly going to turn into a night of debauchery and drinking. Which it very well might be, because Mauve wasn't moving at all from her chosen spot in her lap and Mercy had no intention of throwing her off. Kaila slid closer towards her until their shoulders did bump.

Mercy glanced up at her and smirked.

"Darling Mauve here made sure I survived the Kaggath when some jealous soul decided to target me by orbital bombardment." In response she gently patted Mauve's cheek.

"You know, I think you need another taste of this, Anathemous."

Then she took another swallow from the bottle herself. This time around she didn't draw Mauve in however. Instead she leaned in and suddenly pressed her lips against Kaila. After all, they had never finished their little dance on Nar Shaddaa. In truth Mercy still wanted to coax Kaila into pursuing her. But at heart she was a monster, a hungry beast, that stalked and took what she wanted.

It just didn't come naturally to her to do anything else.

She was so wrapped up into giving Kaila a taste of what Mauve had received just a moment ago that she didn't even notice Quinn slipping out of the booth and taking her leave.

Maybe Mercy had been insensitive, she had felt something off between these two. But she had not realized it was quite that serious. So after the kiss broke she glanced over to Quinn's spot, smirking, as if to offer a third kiss of the night. Instead all she found was an empty place where her childhood friend had been.

The smile died out there and an eyebrow went up.

"Either one of you see where the Princess went off to?"

 

[CT-312]

//: Eira Dyn Scherezade deWinter Jacen Breska 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 //:​

New blips flickered across the HUD. The patrol units and outside team were closing in on the coordinates CT-312 fed them. Where the War-X would be waiting. The distraction was holding. Shifting the tracker to the DeathDrop squad, a new overlay appeared on the HUD. The squads’ markers hadn't moved in… how long? Where the hell were they in this massive complex?

As the security droid led them into a turbolift. Third floor. A long walk followed. Walking through corridors filled with guests in silk and cotton robes. CT-312 kept the same steady pace. Nodding and exchanging bare minimum greetings to the passing guards, guests, and droids. The repetition and small talk were becoming exhausting. Her patience was wearing thin.

Finally, reaching the main security room. The droid used its clearance to open an enforced door. Entering. Three large consoles faced a wall of haloscreens. Camera feeds covering every corner of the spa. Inside and out. CT-312 quickly scanned the room. One guard by the door, a droid at the nearest console, and two seated at the middle and furthest. Four total.

The guard by the door glanced at her and the droid with her. CT-312 gave a brief nod. “Was just outside with the patrol team. Some static interference. Here to relay an updated report on the creature.” CT-312 turned to her escort droid. Laying her gloved hand on its shoulder. Tilting her helmet toward the door guard. Silently signaling. We have a problem.

Her hand moved to one of the pouches, brushing it. Causing the slicer droid to scuttle free. Moving to grab a flash grenade. Priming it. As the Scout neared the first console. The slicer droid jumped off onto the security droid stationed. Disappearing into the seams of its plating. CT-312 tossed the primed grenade upward. Her visor dimmed automatically.

BANG. A full force of light and sound filled the whole room. Blinding and stunning the remaining guards.

The escort droid pivoted instantly. Delivering a single crushing blow to the door guard’s chest. Body crumpling to the floor. CT-312’s shotgun came up. Smooth and fast. Placing two precise blasts into the remaining guards before their sight recovered. One body slumped over the consoles, the other fell out of their seat onto the ground.

CT-312 looked back to the first console. The droid spasmed as the slicer droid completed its work. Rebooting. Optics and its voice returned, awaiting her command. The small machine skittered back out. Jumping onto the console in front. Disappearing once more.

“Take the far console” CT-312 ordered the escort droid by the door. As the droid moved to its assigned duty. The Scout shoved the slumped corpse aside to the ground. Thud. Sliding into the seat of the middle station. “Barca. Assume direct control of the whole system here. ” Beeps of acknowledgement ringed inside her helmet. Camera feeds shifted under her command.

An alert flashed on her HUD. [ Blizzard ETA: 1 hr ] CT-312’s eyes snapped to the haloscreens. Pulling up the sister spa feeds. ‘Too slow to take them one at a time.’ Inefficient. Thoughts churned. Arbiter would never approve… but Quinn Varanin ? She might. Worth a shot.

[ INCOMING MSG: CT-312 ]
[ At the Spa ]
[ Requesting additional units ]
[ Coordinates: Skull Ridge Mountain XXXX ]

A couple of the security feeds caught CT-312’s attention. There they were. Jacen Breska Eira Dyn Scherezade deWinter . Relaxing. Blending in perfectly. Her eyes focused on the feed with TK-710 and Eira sitting next to each other by a hot tub. CT-312 opened a private channel to TK-710. Pausing. A stray thought intruded. Her face remained impassive while her fingers switched the comms to the open encrypted squad frequency.

“TK-710. Did you kiss her yet?” As if she couldn’t see them live on the security feed. “I repeat. Did you plant those, and I quote. Your words not mine. ‘Luscious lips’ on her? Over.”

Another thought occurred to CT-312. Tapping in another message to the Princess. Remembering how mindful the Princess was. The way she never commanded outright. Always framing it as a choice, never a demand. Offering her, CT-312, a choice.

[ It’s okay to say no ]

Once more another ping from her HUD caught her attention.

[ BARCA ]
[ System Override… COMPLETE ]
[ Main Wellness Spa… SECURED ]
[ East Branch… Unsecured ]
[ West Branch… Unsecured ]

Perfect. “BARCA. Extend control to every sister spa. Every droid and system. Lock down their entire grid. Override and unify the whole network. Link it to me. I want full operational command. All of it.”

 

[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.

---

Eventually and to her temporary dismay, the rhythm of those sixteen hands slowed, and before Scherezade could even think to protest, the masseurs were guiding her into motion. Four pairs of hands supported her shoulders and hips while the others shifted the towel and smoothed the table beneath her. In one seamless and practiced motion, they rolled her onto her back, wrapping her again in warmth before she even felt the cool air. The fresh angle felt strange at first, like a cat suddenly realizing their belly was exposed for the scratchies, and her instincts almost threw her towards exposed throats and unguarded centers. Almost. The sixteen hands knew what to do, and when the oil touched her collarbones, and all such thoughts dissolved and she purred with joy.

From here, they worked outward. Hands glided over the planes of her chest and shoulders, kneading into the stubborn muscles that supported every strike she'd ever thrown. Her arms were stretched and rotated in slow, deliberate arcs, each joint eased open until it felt like the tension had been hiding there for decades. Because it absolutely was. She sighed, letting her head fall to one side, watching the golden light from the lights above them ripple through the steam and turn this into one of the greatest non-pink event ever.

Another set of hands worked along her abdomen, pressing with skilful precision, finding tension even there and smoothing it away. For a moment, her lower belly was touched, and she felt a certain pressure, but she paid it no heed. There would be no emergency bathrooms breaks here. Her legs, now with their weight resting against the table, were coaxed back into that same slow, melting compliance as before. Someone cradled her hands, thumbs circling each palm with care. Somewhere in all this, her breathing had slowed to match the rise and fall of their touch, and she didn't think it strange that all sixteen hands worked in such perfect harmony. It was a successful group project if ever one had been invented.

For a fleeting second, Scherezade thought about the mission again, remembering there were objectives, something about… And something regarding… Nope, it was gone again, only to be disturbed by words coming from her comm. Maybe she should've taken it off her wrist. But… For some reason, someone decided she was going to Adult[tm] today.

"TK-710. Did you kiss her yet? I repeat. Did you plant those, and I quote. Your words not mine. 'Luscious lips' on her? Over."

An eyebrow lofted dramatically before the muscle released itself again. She was far too gone to focus on that now. Here, the war was suspended, the galaxy was quiet, and she was nothing but a warm body in a golden haze, letting skilled strangers sculpt her into something soft again. She could catch up on Droids of Our Lives later. If this was treason against duty, she'd happily plead guilty. Providing the accusation was made after she was done.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Her tray of bottles clinked as she moved through the crowd. One row of tonics promised youth, another luck, and in the back — small vials of suspicious sludge with a label featuring Koda Fett 's "grinning face" (his helmet).

Because, of course, he was number one.

She was mid-pitch

By this point Vigo Majore Captain Jerec Asyr, distributor of free spaceships, was well on his way to a level of intoxication that would prompt life changes in days to come. He recognized the helmet motif on the sludge vials regardless. One did not forget the face to whom one had paid a quarter million credits in the past month. No indeed.

Jerec looked back and forth between the tray and its proprietor, a human of some kind. "Youth, ehh; luck, got plenty...is that one at the back made with real Koda Fett?"