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Bespin: (Black Sun's) Cloud City


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(Well I was waiting on Vothe to respond.)

 

Zalis never got the response from Vothe, if he even had one to her comment, when the secretary bid them into the main office where this Vigo was at. She never did catch his name from Vothe, and she never really bothered to get it either. But as she walked in to the office, for some reason wanting to be first, she allowed for her body to walk and carry itself in such a way that it would draw attention to her form. Even as she did so, she looked over the man who seemed to be the owner of the office. He wasn't much taller than her, and his own body seemed almost on the frail side for someone who worked with Black Sun. Although there would be no complaints from her on the matter. But the one thing that did stand out to her was his blue eyes underneath his brown hair. The man was attractive. Granted, she immediately threw out the idea of sleeping with him, as since he seemed to be in charge, she didn't want to work her way up the ladder by means of sleeping her way to the top.

 

Instead of actually saying anything, she gave him a slight head nod and then rested her body along the side of a wall that was well away from anything expensive looking. If she was to be noticed, it would be because someone wanted to notice her alone. Looking for a quick second at Vothe and then back at the Vigo, she would wait her turn to speak in this arrangement.

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Vothe entered the office alongside Zalis. He didn't fail to notice how she immediately set out to make a good first impression, and didn't doubt it would be effective. From what he knew, Silas was of typical Vigo stock for Daisaku's reign. Corrupt, arrogant, lecherous, rich and willing to throw credits away to live in luxury. Just the kind of man that Vothe was rather hoping had been purged during the mass suicide on Dubrillion. Such men--not least of them Daisaku himself--did not make the Black Sun more prosperous. They thought they knew what made life worth living, but they were pathetically shallow hedonists, their shriveled souls stuffed out of sight beneath a sea of wealth, their mental faculty dwindling away amidst the million purchased inventions designed to render its exercise unnecessary.

 

The assassin hoped that perhaps Silas would prove him wrong and reveal a character that could be described with other words.

 

"Vigo," he addressed the man, his hood lowered but his cloaked form almost wraith-like and his voice ethereal to match. "You called for agents. What is it that you have in mind?"

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Delta yawned dramatically and stepped into the office behind Vothe and the other agent.

 

He glanced to his old friend and extended his hand.

 

"My good man! I am happy to see you alive and well, How are you liking my city?"

 

((Sorry for the short post))

 

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Ca'Aran

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Velos Menethil smirked a little. He saw the boy behind the man and was thoroughly interested in what Mr. Onnd had to offer his father’s stagnant company. The Yacht slid into a comfortable landing and the loud clicks of the landing gear were barely registering in the CEO’s mind. To be honest, the only reason the company was stagnant was because his father had inherited the company from his own father and he didn’t have the business acumen required to run it. He was lucky that the demand of the war was so great, because his father was able to blow his money on any number of things, like this Yacht. Now that the war was over though, Velos took to the streets and started advertising to an even bigger target market to avoid complete bankruptcy, he sold the excess company assets that were useless, he offered large shipments to mercenary companies and he delegated with small splinter rebel and imperial groups on the Rim planets. He was hanging the company on a pin, but at least it was somewhat stable. Black Sun would give them the stability they needed to move on and an outlet to test new technology without fear of moral ambiguity or legal consequences. All that gorram red tape and paperwork was driving him crazy. R&D was their biggest financial deficit, but that was because it was the life blood of their company. They had to innovate in defense and offense or warfare technology would pass them by. This arrangement would open the floodgates to an entirely new wave of destructive technology.

 

Mr. Onnd’s input would be generously accepted and acknowledged. However, the ultimate creative decision would be directed by him and he was eagerly awaiting and anticipating the change. It was the first time in a very long time that he had any hope for his future or the future of his company.

 

Velos stepped out of the ship in a sharp black suit with a soft velvety blue vest. His shirt was stark white and he had a dark, almost black, tie tucked in underneath his vest to complete his look. His short hair was neatly coiffed, he had on a faint air of subtle cologne and he had sterling silver cufflinks. His custom MEA westars were snug in their holsters and sat at his hips. He didn’t touch them, but he wanted them there for safety. It was a necessary precaution when dealing with something or someone as large and powerful as the Black Sun. You don’t go pretending you have more power than them or they don’t give your offer a second glance. Don’t grovel or that would make you look pathetic, but don’t go in guns blazing or they’ll think you’re hotheaded and either think you aren’t worth working for or shoot you, or both.

 

Velos slipped his custom MEA glasses on and walked carefully through the corridors, nodding at bodyguards and security enforces as he came by. A few of them made for his blasters, but he did not wish to part with them. If they pushed the issue, he would hand them over, but only under the stipulation that they not be harmed. They were a gift.

 

He came to the corridor outside the central offices and met Azhira who fell in line behind him.

 

“I trust it all went swimmingly,” Velos asked Azhira without turning to look at her.

 

“More or less,” she replied, slightly exasperated. “I did what I could, but this man seems as hotheaded as the last Black Sun leader we tried to liaison with. He doesn’t seem quite as expedient to judge though and he doesn’t like gaudy displays of wealth and power, so he seems a little more respectable, which is good.”

 

Velos nodded his approval. “I figured as much from his dossier. I thank you for your service. I would have joined you, but I did not wish to interrupt proceedings, even if they were partly my design.”

 

Velos snapped his feet together and walked to the end of the hall. There he waited for his turn to see the infamous leader of the Black Sun.

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He had lit another cigarette and was just getting to the good part by the time the duo came strolling in to his office. He had to consciously resist the urge to reach for the gun in his pocket when he saw that the unknown woman was entering first. If there was anything he had learned during his forty-plus years it was to trust no one, though he had always had a soft spot for a stunning redhead. She gave him a slight nod that seemed to say that she knew more of him than he of her. It was a situation he intended to rectify.

 

Silas returned the nod that the stranger offered as he listened to Vothe. The man certainly knew how to jump straight to the point. He was more interested in getting to know Vothe's companion than anything else at the moment. She was tall for a human female, standing no more than a couple inches shorter than Silas did. She had an unusual amount of grace for a woman of such tall stature, her muscular frame sitting well on her sleek body. But it was her eyes, the color of the clearest oceans, that spoke of her true talents. From what Silas knew of Vothe, she wouldn't be here unless she had proven to him that she could utilize those talents well.

 

It took all of the willpower that he had, but he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous body that had entranced him. He was about to answer Vothe when Delta appeared behind them with a grin on his face. Silas nodded and clasped the extended hand.

 

"Delta, my friend, it has been far too long! This city is wonderful, such a remarkable and profitable achievement. You seem to have done well for yourself in my absence, at any rate."

 

Silas took another drag and turned to Vothe, a slight grin still on his face.

 

"Before we get down to business, I do believe that introductions are in order."

 

He placed the cigarette in the ashtray, moved around his obscenely large desk, and walked directly towards the newcomer who had glued herself to a wall. It was no place for a woman of her beauty. As he was drawing near to her he gently but firmly extended his hand and encapsulated her own within it. He brought it to his lips, brushing it with the softest of kisses.

 

"I don't believe that we've been properly introduced, my lady. Silas Carde, CEO of the Black Sun. And you are...?"

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Zalis immediately felt her mind a change on interest towards the man whom now introduced himself as Silas Carde. Even as he kissed her hand, she felt a sudden change or opinion towards him. Smooth, graceful, and a gentleman. Although that did not change the fact that he was in fact the CEO of Black Sun, a criminal organization that could easily have her killed from one wrong move. She knew better then to take the single action as a stand alone. With a smile at Silas' blue eyes, she spoke with a hint of playful lustfulness within her own voice. Just enough sultry to keep the audience watching silently...

 

"Zalis Krales. A new agent at your service."

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Vothe observed the introduction process neutrally. It seemed like Zalis was indeed intending to play the game he had hinted at before they had entered, even though she had the street smarts and combat abilities to earn her way up to the top through merit alone. He didn't think particularly highly of her for playing that game, but it wasn't any of his business. He was only in control of himself. He would make his way in this organization regardless of the levels of corruption he found within it.

 

"I recruited Zalis on Coruscant," he added. "She was a distinguished agent working for a small-time organization... one where she had nothing like the opportunities she will have here."

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"Well, I'm certain that we'll be getting better acquainted soon. Surely a woman with your talents will climb quickly in this most prestigious of organizations. I've spent a lot of time around a great number of talented women, so I hope that you're up to the challenge."

 

Silas turned slowly, maintaining eye contact for as long as the turn would permit, and moved back around his desk. He took a long, thoughtful drag on the almost finished cigarette and continued. "Now that we've all been introduced I will proceed. The Black Sun has become stagnant since Daisaku destroyed the Dubrillion operation. I intend to change that. I regret that I called you here, Vothe, as your first assignment will take you directly back where you came from: Coruscant. For a long time now CoreSec has been cutting down on criminal activity in the Core Worlds, particularly on Coruscant since the implementation of the new government. They've had great success in slowing down the movement of spice and slaves through the Capital and the rest of the surrounding area."

 

The CEO took another drag and allowed a slight smile to creep on to his lips as he exhaled. "Your mission is simple in nature, though I expect you'll find it a little more difficult than anticipated once you arrive. The CoreSec offices are located on the top ten floors of one of the tallest buildings on Coruscant. I want the building leveled. I want them to be starting from square one when you're done with them. They are currently on the attack, I want them on the run. The 'how' is up to the three of you and as always a great display of showmanship and finesse is appreciated. "

 

A final drag before putting the cigarette out. "Given the straightforward nature of the assignment, if you have no questions, Vothe, Delta, you're dismissed to begin preparations. Ms. Krales, I have a meeting scheduled after this and I would ask that you join me for it. I shouldn't require more than a few minutes of your time, after which you'll be free to join your new comrades in preparation."

 

Silas pushed a button on his desk. As soon as Vothe and Delta had asked any questions they had and departed his assistant would show the CEO of MEA in to his office.

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Zalis was quiet as she listened to the assignment given. CoreSec was no easy building to level. The security around it was pretty stout, and she knew for a fact that they had themselves some spies that are always watching the activity around building as she ran into them by accident during a blue milk run by one of her former employers. Turning her head slowly to look at Vothe and see his reaction to the assignment would give her a hint if he also knew the magnitude of what was being asked. Not only for the strong task, but of the move of Black Sun striking out at CoreSec so quickly when numbers were not yet on their side. Putting a target on their back at this point was bold. But if successful, it would prove most influential in other organizations not openly challenging Black Sun. But she never got the chance to glance at Vothe, as Silas turned and addressed Zalis separately from the rest. What sort of impact could she have on a meeting as a new recruit was a bit perplexing, but she kept the thought off her face as she was so good at doing and presented the smile. A little knowledge of how Silas worked might help her gain a foot-hole in her new line of work.

 

"I would happily join you, if you really think I'm useful..."

 

She left the comment hanging on purpose to help add a bit of playfulness for Silas. Part of her thought for sure that he held no intention other then getting her out of her clothes, a move that might prove a bit more work than Silas could anticipate. But she was now curious to see how Silas thought of her already. She would attend if for nothing else then to show off her own cunningness.

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Vothe met the assignment with nothing short of revile, but he did not allow dismay to show on his features. This was much worse than he had thought it would be. For a moment he said nothing, considering carefully the strength with which he should oppose Silas. Honestly, the meer idea of leveling a public building was enough to seriously shake his faith in Silas' ability to lead the crime syndicate, and for a moment he entertained the thought of assassinating the Vigo and assuming his role. As much as he didn't want a leadership role, it seemed anything would be an improvement over a man whose first order was an act of mass murder.

 

Ultimately he decided that while assassination wasn't quite off the list just yet, it would be a bit premature and wouldn't be significantly better than just carrying out the assignment.

 

"I must decline this assignment, Vigo," he said instead. "Such an overt attack cannot be accomplished without significant collateral damage. We are a criminal organization. What you're suggesting is an act of terrorism which can only lead to an arms race against CoreSec, and they are better funded and backed by the public. If linked to us, we would lose credibility in the underworld and only be able to recruit convicts and mass murderers."

 

His voice was very level, despite his mix of anger and disappointment. "We do not need to enter a wholly-unprofitable war with CoreSec. Their jurisdiction is limited and police action is always restricted by bureaucracy. If we wish to make a profit in the core worlds, we need to do so under the guise of legitimate business, forming organizations with easy-to-liquidate funds and creating off-world laundering opportunities," he explained. He kept his tone more conversational, although he felt like he was explaining illegitimate business practices to a child. "Meanwhile, we can operate much more openly in the rest of the galaxy, out of CoreSec's reach. The Galactic Alliance is too monolithic to harm us--they're only an enemy if we choose to engage them directly, and we haven't the resources for that.

 

"All that in mind, our targets need to be other organizations. The Link, the Vortex administration, Industrial Automaton, Thyferran bacta companies. The Jedi don't have any credits, but the Sith do. Don't forget it was they that destroyed our citadel on Coruscant, not CoreSec. Although they might make reasonable allies if they can be manipulated. If you want your war with CoreSec, it's them that need to operate in the open."

 

The last bit was more like musing than anything, and soon Vothe lapsed back into silence. He preferred to remain silent and aloof, the assassin that he was, but he had picked up a taste for business during a long series of undercover missions. And he had a desire to see Black Sun succeed.

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((Gonna take a few liberties here with Delta and Zalis' characters in the spirit of expediency. If anyone has problems feel free to let me know and I'll edit accordingly.))

 

"Funny, I recall asking for questions, not opinions."

 

They stood on opposite sides of the desk, eyes locked, unmoving. He wasn't angry, quite the contrary in fact. He was intrigued. He knew Vothe, by reputation only, as an efficient killer. It was not often that someone in his employ passed up an opportunity for mayhem, particularly an assignment of this magnitude. At this particular moment however, Silas was less concerned with obtaining three more employees and more concerned with gathering three new team members. There was, after all, quite the difference between the two within the workplace. He turned to Delta and Zalis.

 

"If the two of you would be so kind as to excuse us for a few moments it would appear that Mr. Kyrik and I have some business to discuss before we begin with our other meeting." He threw a subtle, almost unnoticeable wink at Zalis as his finished the statement.

 

The pair obviously took the hint as they gracefully moved from his office to the lobby outside, shutting the doors behind them. Good, the fact that they had left slowly instead of stumbling out like a couple of baboons meant that they would think for themselves rather than becoming complacent yes-men, a skill that the man still standing in front of him clearly already possessed as well.

 

Silas let the silence hang in the air for another few seconds before deciding to continue. Reaching inside his left breast pocket he withdrew the gun that the crazy bastard Daisaku had bestowed upon him so long ago and placed it on the table. It was not a threatening gesture, the complete opposite in fact.

 

"Years ago, right around the time that you secured employment with this most grand of criminal empires, I returned to the Black Sun after a long hiatus. Upon my return, Smash Daisaku summoned me to his office and handed me the glorious weapon you see before you. At first, I was confused. At the time I had many different weapons on my person: knives, vibroblades, blasters, grenades, and Smash was well aware of this. So why did he give me another weapon, despite its beauty, when he knew that I would most likely never find a use for it? Because it made me part of a team, rather than another warm body. More importantly, it made me a part of His team."

 

"Daisaku did business his way, no one can deny that. However, before Daisaku's final tenure with the Sun I was a part of another team led by a man named Piccolo. You might have heard of him in your line of work. Along with being an almost unparalleled warrior, he was a brilliant leader. He was willing to concede if someone in the upper echelons of his organization had a more sound plan. He had a team that followed him and offered suggestions along the way. Those he led trusted him to offer sincere consideration of their ideas before deciding on a final course of action. This is what I require of those agents who have shown the most skill, talent and promise. Agents like yourself, Delta, and even Ms. Krales if you are true to your word, are the life-force of this organization. As well as I have done for myself, and as much as I would like to believe that I can single-handedly make this faction profitable, I know I can't. A leader is only as strong as those he surrounds himself with. It has taken me decades of observation of previous leaders of this group to fully understand what that means and it was only through Piccolo's guidance that I stand where I do today."

 

Silas took a short pause, only long enough to light another cigarette. He wasn't finished, a fact he was sure Vothe was aware of.

 

"I am not an unreasonable man, Mr. Kyrik. Certainly not enough so as to believe that I can force you to do what I want with death threats. I do not believe that I am smarter than you or more skilled than you. I stand behind this desk because I have spent decades continuously proving myself to the many different leaders of this empire, an opportunity that you have only shared for a few short years. I was hoping that you would respect my decision and complete your assignment, however I have no qualms with explaining the reasoning behind them."

 

"You see Mr. Kyrik, the man waiting outside this office, one Velos Menethil, is the CEO of one of the most expansive weapon and technology firms in the galaxy. Recently their business has been falling off due to the lack of conflict after the Rebellion and the Empire merged to create the Galactic Alliance. CoreSec is up and running again for the first time in decades and people, especially in the Core though this applies to the general population as well, fell safe. Their new government and police force will protect them from any danger they may face."

 

"It just so happens to be very likely that within the next few hours the MEA Corporation will become a part of the Black Sun Criminal Empire. At such a time, their profits begin to be our profits. Their losses are our losses. Now, as I prefer to avoid making Black Sun synonymous with dying companies it would stand to reason that I would want to increase the sales of weapons and defense technologies in the regions in which our new acquisition resides. And what would cause people to invest in new defense and weapons systems? I can answer in one word: Fear. When I gave you this assignment it was not intended to be a blind act of terrorism. Mindless killing only serves to lessen the number of paying customers that I can extort. But one building out of billions on one planet out of billions located within the galaxy's largest and most booming economy is nothing more than good business."

 

"When the people of Coruscant see not only the destruction of one of the tallest buildings in the government district, but the destruction of their police force's headquarters they will immediately rush to arm themselves and put up the latest security. The largest and most innovative arms and securities corporation not only on Coruscant, but within all the Core Worlds? You guess it: The MEA Corporation. Not only does CoreSec leave the spice and slave trade alone to search for those responsible for the attack on their home soil, our profits increase exponentially from the new business deal. We have two birds in our sight, Mr. Kyrik, and if we do this right we can kill them both with one stone. It would be very good for me indeed."

 

"Never forget that what is good for me is good for Black Sun. And what is good for Black Sun is good for the galaxy."

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((totally fine, been quite busy over here))

 

Delta took a sip of expensive scotch as he closed the door behind him. He turned to the others standing outside the doorway. "I for one, believe that there is a great way to take over this little city planet. Though it will take several starships packed with explosives..." He considered for a few seconds. An all out assault would be very risky. Covert and dangerous, plus, there are no doubt many prisoners of use within their facilities..." He looked at the others out side, "What do you all think?"

 

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Vothe looked at Silas with a newfound grudging respect. It turned out he had underestimated the man, and he was somewhat glad to have been proven wrong and shown the cunning and ruthless business sense that was behind the audacious and narcissistic exterior. The Vigo's reasoning was sound, and a hit on such a building was indeed likely to help the business he was in the process of acquiring... in the short term, at least. But there was something of which Silas was not aware.

 

The assassin allowed a smile. "It is true that acts of terrorism and the death of police officers will lead people to arm themselves. But there is something far greater for an organization such as the MEA Corporation, something that makes acquiring them worth almost anything. War, Mr. Carde. Military contracts." Vothe began to pace slowly, his footfalls making no sound. There had been something new in his meditations, a deep, pervasive presence. He didn't know what it was, but he had gotten just a sense of its goal. "What if I told you that a secessionist movement has begun on Bothawui, and the movement is about to spread? This pervasive, looming fear will to rise up without the Black Sun demolishing buildings. The Galactic Alliance will soon have no choice but to arm itself.

 

"How the Black Sun benefits from this is up to you. But let us agree that terrorism is best left to the Sith."

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Zalis followed her instructions and left the room with the man that Silas introduced as Delta earlier, and he quickly began to speak upon leaving the room. He seemed to think that such an assault was something well worth accomplishing. Her own eyes now narrowed as her lips pressed closed for a single second before she responded to him.

 

"CoreSec is well guarded. If such an act was pulled off, Black Sun would be lift crippled without any questions. While they have been pushing crime further off the upper levels, they just don't have enough strength to clean Coruscant out completely. Not without Jedi help, which seems to be non-existent for the moment. And making ourselves targets against those who have none... It's just not good business. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't try if there was a chance to accomplish the task..."

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((The site ate my first three attempts to make this post, so you'll have to forgive me if this seems a bit scattered.))

 

Silas paused for a moment to let the information sink in. This was the sort of catalyst that he had been waiting for since the day the Empire fell and was replaced by that absurd Galactic Alliance. At least the Empire had been a valuable ally at times. The only function that the Galactic Alliance served was to be a massive thorn in his side. The fact that Silas hadn't known about the secessionist movement on Bothawui disturbed him slightly, but perhaps it was good that Vothe was so hesitant to attack CoreSec as his hesitancy would certainly compliment Silas' reckless nature well. A full-blown war would be good for him, very good indeed.

 

"You must be very sure of yourself if you're willing to risk the future of Black Sun on this little piece of information. As such, this mission will live and die with you."

 

Silas took a long drag on his cigarette and began to pull up a file on his desktop. A few moments later he connected a spare datapad that he had in his desk to the computer and transferred the necessary files to the smaller machine before handing it to Vothe.

 

"You'll find a full physical description, as well as home residence and frequently visited locations, of the Bothan High Council Chief on that datapad. It was noted in his file that he has recently become a supporter of the Bothan Sector's intent to leave the Galactic Alliance, which unfortunately for him makes him a perfect target. Your assignment is to assassinate him, though you must take great care to make it appear that it was the Galactic Alliance behind the plot. That should be more than enough to push those scruffy furballs over the edge and where the Bothans lead, many other systems are sure to follow. Take Ms. Krales with you. She was merely meant to be ornamentation for my meeting with Menethil. I'm sure you can find a more productive use of her particular skillset."

 

Another drag.

 

"And just so we're clear about earlier, I feel no shame in admitting my error given your presentation of a more desirable alternative, but you should know that I am not above the use of terrorism as a means to an end. This is still a criminal empire. I will do as I see fit to protect its interests."

 

With that he stood, leaving the cigarette slowly burning in the ashtray, and offered his hand to the man standing in front of him. This could be the beginning of a beautiful partnership if both parties agreed to let it happen.

 

"Thank you for your candor, Mr. Kyrik. The galaxy needs more men like you. If you'd be so kind as to inform the rest of our group of the change of plans and have my secretary send in Delta and Mr. Menethil it would be most appreciated."

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Vothe returned the handshake. "I am quite certain that this is not a mistake," he assured the Vigo. "This mission will accelerate and guarantee Bothawui's secession, and others will follow."

 

He released the grip on Silas' hand and headed out of the room. Silas' willingness to revise the mission agenda based on new information meant he wasn't overly arrogant, and his willingness to hear Vothe out said something about his leadership. There might still come a point where he would refuse to be overridden, so Vothe would need to pick his battles if he was going to continue to fight against the Black Sun devolving into something far below what it was now. For now he was content though. An assassination mission was much more his style than a bombing. Even if he preferred to work alone.

 

As he left the office, he saw the others gathered still outside with the Vigo's secretary nearby. "New information has led to a change of plans. Zalis, you and I are headed to Bothawui." He glanced at the secretary. "Mr. Carde has asked to see Delta and Velos Menethil."

 

He gestured to Zalis and started walking back to the landing pad. "We're going to assassinate a Bothan secessionist and pin it on the GA. I assume you're familiar with the political incident that happened there recently?"

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Zalis didn't miss a beat as Vothe came out of the office and informed her of the change of plans. With a quick hop of a step, she followed Vothe out the door and towards the hangar bay where her own vessel was rested. Even as Vothe inquired about her knowledge of current events related to the mission, her own mind kept sharp as it thought through the way Bothan's behaved and reacted to those outside of their culture. So as they walked, her mind was slightest focused already on what she would have to do.

 

"I am familiar enough with it. The Bothan's met with the legendary Jedi Kirlocca, in which during the meeting a main senator was assassinated. No details were ever released on how or why, but Akao Den'kji took control of the planet and declared marshall law as she wanted revenge. So yeah, I know."

 

She wasn't quite sure of why any move on Bothawui would be helpful for Black Sun, but she wasn't one to fight or openly question out of respect for being new. That, and she also did not fully understand the workings of Black Sun enough to say something wouldn't be helpful for them.

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"Terrorism may indeed be best left to the Sith, but your crew is definitely most capable for it, nor is it lacking in purpose, a thing few truly understand about such acts. I expect no less from Daisaku's successor."

 

The pronouncement rings out in the air over Silas's office just after the last of the crew leaves, shutting the door behind them. The faintest pulse of the Force vanishes, along with the suggesting that there were other things much more interesting than the low hum of a personal holoprojector and the distortions of light it created when doing an otherwise poor job of masking its owner. In tandem with the Force, an unretired Vigo's access to Black Sun, and Faust's skill, it provided an entrance and egress fitting for a single pair of eyes.

 

An invite from Black Sun's CEO also never hurt either.

 

"My Lord," he states with a bow. "I'd offer my skills to assist in the operation, but as far as my enemies know, I am still within the pardon granted by the Galactic Alliance for my past... indiscretions.I'd prefer to hold on to its benefit for a little while longer. Some Jedi may still trust me even." He let out a low chuckle.

 

Faust was the same as always, in his burnished white Sith armor and flowing trenchcoat. His eyes glittered with cold amusement. Smoothing back a lock of his blond hair, now only just touched with a hint of grey at the temples, he continued.

 

"I'll be brief so Mr. Menethil do have something that may help the festivities you discussed a bit... a small project I've been funding personally, and with some gracious help from Black Sun, during my absence." He inwardly shook his head. Just because he dropped out of sight a couple dozen of noted individuals and avoided landing on about as many planets in a galaxy full of hundreds of such systems, does not mean he was absent or idle. A pity he had to abandon his plans with the Jedi, though he hoped his schism caused them enough distress. Still there were wars beyond the galaxy's sight that needed fighting, and winning, and plans to move further towards fruition.

 

He opens his coat and removes three black vials. The first is as black as the starless void of empty night. The second is blacker still, and the third almost seems to suck up the surrounding light, giving off a sensation that would make Silas's skin chill.

 

"I give you the fruit of my labors." He holds up the vials. "I give you RAGE. Without access to Black Sun's markets of slavers, smugglers, and scientists, it may have taken me longer to produce. Funny how parasites and viruses can change the smallest of rats, causing them to take suicidal actions to spread among larger hosts. The brain is fickle, and fleeting, and hate can be reproduced in a laboratory as easily as it can from viewing reality."

 

He casually tosses the "lightest" vial over to Silas. "When injected, ingested, or inhaled, RAGE produces euphoria and a physical sensation of pure power. It is genuinely addictive in the spiritual sense as well, adding new meaning to the phrase drunk on the dark side. You hold in you hand the Dark side of the Force, a variation of Sith poison used for crushing the will of the Jedi with the Dark Side's universal call of fear, anger, and hatred. For those unable to use the Force, they will require more and more of it."

 

"The next vial," he states, "is a form used for you own troops in dire situations. The Dark is powerful and hungry, it consumes the weak while granting the strong greater power still. They are stronger, more aggressive, their senses sharpened. And for Force sensitives, it may give them an edge in the powers they draw." He carefully sets it down on Silas's desk. "Be wary as it is even more addictive. Even the strongest of minds can be overpowered by it." Faust's face remains impassive, but even he remembered the madness that lead to his capture on Mon Cal. Even the lowliest Sith acolytes knew the Dark came with a toll on their bodies, one this drug would accelerate. Still, power was power.

 

"The last of the RAGE, is a weapon." He holds it carefully aloft, watching it drink in the light. "It is the Sith poison refined to its purest form, refined past what even the ancients could make. The whole lot is mass produced from Force sensitive slaves, gutted and in torment, their only purpose producing ounce after ounce of this liquid and its lesser, though still potent forms. In the hands of a Dark sider of a Sith Lord's power, it will be like freebasing Deathsticks with steroids and adrenalin. For anyone else, they will succumb to the Dark as it consumes them inside out. Woe until the weak, the forceless, or the Jedi and their ilk. The Dark will permeate them and overwhelm them. Lesser beings will explode with darkness and a blast of lightning as the Emperor did in his final moments, infecting any survivors with their addiction to the Dark as if they had shot up with its least form." He left out that such souls taken could be torn apart by the Chaos of the Dark side as had taken the Emperor in his final demise, bringing death beyond death.

 

He tucks the blackest vial back into his coat. "For a price, I can supply you with RAGE enough to corner a new market. It can be mixed in with other drugs, or sold by itself, enslaving body, mind, and soul, a feat none of your partners can accomplish. I can supply you with enough to fuel your agents so their fury cannot be withstood. Finally, I can offer to spare a few vials of RAGE at its purest for the attack on CoreSec, or your other enemies to spread the fear and confusion."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Vothe was for a moment pleased that Zalis had kept up with politics, but suddenly he stopped mid-stride and his look grew somewhat distant. He turned to glance back the way they had come. Although he had only spoken directly to the man once, there was no mistaking the presence of Vladimir Faust. No matter how many times the infamous hunter was rumored dead, he always seemed to turn up again. On some level, it meant to Vothe that the galaxy was once again in balance. Good and evil did not exist except as counterpoints to the other. Faust was an individual powerful enough to mobilize both the powers of darkness and rally the forces of light against them.

 

He was also a notorious terrorist and war criminal. He could be a tremendous asset if he truly served Black Sun's interests, but he could also be a destabilizing force that through his influence led the criminal empire down the path to ruin. Vothe's anti-terrorism stances were not moral qualms--although he did have a distaste for truly needless bloodshed--they were professional. He lingered for just a moment where he stood, wondering what proposition Faust would bring to Silas and how the Vigo would receive it.

 

Finally Vothe turned back toward Zalis and her ship. He had to trust that both their business minds together would make the best decision for Black Sun. Even if they did not, he could not truly stand against them.

 

"We will assassinate Akao Den'kji and frame the Galactic Alliance," he said as though there had been no pause in the convsersation. "Most worlds are skeptical about the assassination of the Senator because details were never released, but this time there will be sufficient evidence to leave no trace of doubt. The resulting political outcry will stir additional worlds into secession. The goal is to encourage war and then make that war as profitable for the Black Sun as possible."

 

They reached the ship as he finished speaking. "We'll simply need a good plan. I hear the Bothans aren't so trusting of offworlders these days."

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((Had the semester's first round of tests this week. Posts can be expected to be a lot more prompt from this point on.))

 

"Always a pleasure, Lord Faust," he said with an inclination of his head.

 

Theatrics aside, Faust's entrance was as spectacular as ever. It had taken Silas a great number of years to grow comfortable in the Sith's presence. He was still a man that Silas would hate to meet on bad terms. Even so, when looking at the blond-headed, immaculately dressed man before him it was hard to remember that the same man had once ended trillions of lives in the space of a single heart beat on Coruscant. Obviously the correct man to be doing business with.

 

Silas ignored the cigarette that had very nearly gone out in the few minutes he had left it dormant as he actively listened to what the Hunter had to say, something that couldn't be said of him during conversations with most other beings. He caught the vial that was tossed to him and held it up to the light as if examining a precious jewel. The name RAGE seemed apt given the cold sense that seemed to exude from the container. It was enough to make his hair stand on end. This was almost too good to be true.

 

"Well, it seems that you've been very busy during your hiatus. I would expect nothing less of you."

 

He set the vial down carefully and picked up the ass-end of the half-finished cigarette. He allowed himself a few heartbeats to relight it, savoring the slightly foul taste it left in his mouth, before continuing.

 

"Your timing, as always, is impeccable. Name your price and I'll take the lot, including that vial you tucked back inside your coat. I have no reason to doubt you Lord Faust, but I would very much like to see for myself what this substance is capable of doing to our enemies."

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Faust tilts his head in a small bow. "There is a famed traveler of worlds who concluded timeliness is what men value above all else. I cannot disagree." When said traveler made that observation, he also concluded the world he was on at the time sounded as if it was soiling itself in fear of an oncoming doom. Faust wondered what kind of sound the very Galaxy would make before a storm like that. He suspected that dissonant note would echo through it very soon.

 

Faust reaches back into his coat and carefully lays the vial of RAGE-3 on Silas's desk, then draws out a datapad, showing the price, as well as a private account number for the funds to be transferred to. The RAGE-3 was the price of a medium sized bounty for a vial of the size he carried, and the lesser vials on par with the street value Black Sun's latest designer drugs. The overall amount was several dozen small crates of RAGE-1, a lage crate of RAGE-2, and a sealed briefcase with a three dozen vials of the radiant blackness of RAGE-3.

 

"I've taken the liberty of dropping the supplies off in advance," he states in a crisp, business like fashion. "You'll find them in the following hangar-bay in the City's lower levels. The Sith agent who is renting that hangar-bay on my behalf is currently frequenting the City's casinos, and can be contacted if you need additional supply in the future." On seeing Silas light up, Faust casually follows suit with a cigar from his case, ostentatiously using a concentrated burst of Force lightning from his index finger to ignite the tip.

 

"I should be able to produce more product shortly, particularly with the influx of capital I've been provided." He smiles at the account number on the datapad. "The RAGE-3, I am hoping to see in action as well... particularly for the attack on CoreSec. A shame I was never here to lend a hand in it, nor now, nor will I be present when things go down."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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"The objective will be to gain access to land first. Everything else will have to come after that."

 

She spoke even as she prepped the ship for take off within the cockpit. After a quick few switches of nobs and gears, the two Black Sun operatives were off and headed for their destination...

 

(I'll post arriving later today.)

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Within seconds the funds were transferred into Faust's account and a team of operatives had been dispatched to the bowels of the city to retrieve the RAGE shipment. Silas took a long drag on his cigarette as he listened to the Sith speak.

 

"A pity, to be sure. A clean slate from the Galactic Alliance is not something to be given up for so small a reward, especially when my team is more than capable of completing this task without your assistance."

 

He pulled a final drag of smoke before putting the deathstick out in the ashtray on his desk. He took his time in pouring himself a healthy measure of the scotch that Delta had opened while leaving and lighting a cigar of his own. A second glass was retrieved from its resting place in his desk drawer, as were a varied selection of spirits from the farthest reaches of the galaxy.

 

"Please, help yourself."

 

Silas picked up his own glass and took a small gulp of the amber liquid.

 

"I do have one question for you, Lord Faust, and it may be the most important of all. You obviously have an endgame here, and I'm curious as to what it is. You have been a priceless asset to our organization for many years and it is my desire that you will remain so for many years to come. Money can only go so far. The Black Sun's resources are vast and can help you achieve your goals in a more timely fashion. Anything you require can be obtained without unnecessary to your good standing with the government. I would consider it nothing more than good business."

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Faust helps himself to a glass of the same scotch as Black Sun's leader, the glass oscillating gently in his hands before answering. When he speaks, his voice takes on a firmness and intensity the Hunter rarely used.

 

"Money indeed can only go so far. Money, the Force, loyalty, strength of arms, all are elements of power, as is knowledge." His eyes lock on Silas's, almost blazing cold. "Power in the wrong hands is dangerous, particularly those too crippled by fear, weakness, or delusions that one is acting morally. There is an endgame, and the pieces are all falling into place. It will be upon us soon. Are you sure you wish to know, knowing already what you know of me and my methods?"

 

The Hunter's smile is wolfish, judging.

 

"Do you really want that answer?"

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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A slow, almost thoughtful, drag on the cigar.

 

"You may have been able to intimidate me in the past, Lord Faust, but no more. I've been to Hell and back, and lived to tell the tale. I've been humiliated, watched my own corporation be stolen out from under me while I was helpless to stop it. I've lost more friends and comrades to the tides of war than I could possibly dream of naming. I've held the fates of entire star systems in the palm of my hand."

 

Another, similar drag.

 

"And yet still I am here, resilient as always. Content to bring the Black Sun up from the depths of the pit of despair. I'm afraid your ways do not frighten me. On the contrary, they excite me almost beyond the reaches of my imagination."

 

The tip of his cigar burned brighter than anything else in the already brilliantly-lit room.

 

"I would enjoy nothing more than being privy to that answer."

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Faust gives Silas another cold, appraising look. Those eyes close for a brief second and the Hunter shrugs. Despite some misgivings, the Sith's narcissism led him to brag.

 

"Very well then. You've heard me argue that war is the galaxy's natural state, and that every day is a fight for survival. There'll always be war because its god, the Force is a schizophrenic being split between the Light and the Dark, fighting through mortal proxies. I'm going to end that war, and go beyond the mere extinction of the Jedi or some short term ascendancy of the Dark." Faust's smile turns absolutely vicious and at once beatific, though his tone remains calm and conversational, if not casual. "I intend to kill the Force's Light half, consume the Dark side, make myself into a physical, immortal god as I feast, and drown the galaxy in blood and chaos in the process of my ascendancy."

 

Faust carefully watches Silas, sipping the scotch as he speaks. "RAGE will seed the galaxy's masses with dark side energy and suffering, and incidentally, give Black Sun a healthy profit. There's a few more pieces I need to maneuver into place, some rituals to verify, and locations I need to visit, but, the end is nigh." Finishing his drink, he sets it aside and takes in a long drag from his cigar.

 

"Is this something that Black Sun will want to bring the dawn of? There may be some short term profits, but a galaxy of chaos and flames may not suit it so handily in the long run. Then again, your organization was always about surviving, and rising again."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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"I appreciate your transparency with me, especially considering the sensitive nature of the information. You remain as maniacal as ever, to be sure."

 

Silas finished his drink and set the empty tumbler on his desk.

 

"You also seem very sure of yourself for someone with such a...bold plan. I won't pretend to understand the intricacies of the Force and you are certainly not the first person, within this organization even, to attempt to eradicate the Force from this universe. I care little for the fate of your kind, for the fate of the galaxy. Hell, I'm not particularly concerned with my own fate. I am alive and well today, Lord Faust. If there is a credit to be made then you damn well better believe that I will be there to collect it."

 

A quick puff of the cigar.

 

"I've seen enough of this galaxy to know that good doesn't always conquer evil, that love doesn't always win. On the other hand I have yet to find a being in this realm that is truly infallible. Do as you will, Lord Faust. I await the results of your undertaking with avid curiosity."

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Faust studies Silas carefully, reaching out to probe for signs of alarm or duplicity. A half-smile appears on his face, giving a grudging acknowledgment of the Black Sun leader's stoic drive. Finally, the blue eyes close for a moment as the Sith seizes the Dark side, wringing out projections of what the future could hold, determined to choose the wisest course before speaking again. A demonstration may sign on Black Sun as an ally through the end, if he'd gone this far.

 

"You misunderstand me, Silas. I'm not talking about eradicating the Force altogether, but instead consuming the Light side." Faust steeples his hands and makes an account entry on his datapad for a purchase. "If you wish for a demonstration, debit me a hundred slaves in moderate health and have them shipped to Dantooine, along with sufficient droid guards to ensure obedience. Species or gender doesn't matter, but preferably young and in good health. You may observe this attempt, but I'd advise doing it via a droid observer. Doing so in person may be... hazardous... for your health."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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  • 3 weeks later...

"Only one hundred?" he said with the raise of an eyebrow. "I'm not a man easily impressed, Faust. Such a figure seems...insignificant when one considers the destruction that Ar-Pharazon and Zar wrought on that soil."

 

He let the taunt hang in the air for a moment, like so much smoke that was already drifting lazily about. He knew the Sith Lord wouldn't be so easily enraged. He was not like his colleagues. Slow to anger, quick to think. It was what made him truly terrifying, and truly dangerous.

 

"It shall be as you have said. One hundred respectably healthy slaves shall await your arrival on Dantooine. I will await this demonstration from here, per your suggestion, though I must admit my disappointment. It is always an honor to watch an artist such as yourself at work."

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Faust quirks into a slight smile at the mention of Lord Ar-Pharazon and Barhom Zar. He dismissed the fact it was a taunt, and wondered if he gave away too much of his methods and game plan to Silas and if he pieced together what was about to happen. No matter, Faust trusted Silas this far.

 

"No, a hundred is indeed insignificant compared to what they wrought, but their acts laid a cornerstone for what I shall attempt, priming the soil so to speak. It is on the site of their act I need them delivered. I'd be truly honored by your presence, but I cannot guarantee your safety in person, at least not within direct view of the ceremony."

 

Faust's eyes closed, checking the chronometer in his ship via the cybernetic link. "It's past time," he murmurs. "Lord Silas," he states with a bow. Faust takes a deep drag and exhale from his cigar, bellowing out more smoke than should be normal, creating a thick, swirling cloud of smoke and mist.

 

When the smoke clears, the Hunter is gone.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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