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Silas

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  1. A medical shuttle sporting the Black Sun emblem landed as it had many times before in the docking bay of the base at Artus Prime. This time was different though. Debris lay strewn about, evidence of the fighting and bloodshed that had occurred there. As the shuttle touched down its ramp began to lower and out rushed four armed security personnel, escorting a med-evac chamber. They all wore the same emblem as the ship. They moved efficiently through the building, clearing each room that they came to until at long last they reached the comm center. There they found a man, obviously in distress, leaning on what appeared to be old and very much destroyed comm equipment. "Sir, are you hurt?"
  2. "Sir, you'll want to see this. Silas looked up from his computer monitor to see a young comm officer standing before him holding a print-out. He took time to light a smoke before motioning the man forward. He took the piece of paper from his outstretched hand and scanned it briefly. "The communication was picked up coming out of the Kwymar Sector, the old base on Artus Prime to be specific, sir." Silas puffed silently on his cigarette while considering this news. He wasn't quite sure why the young comm officer had been set a-twitter about the intercepted message until he reached the bottom of the report. The officer had run a voice recognition analysis and had been rewarded with a match. No, that's impossible. He's been dead for years. There's no way...That facility would have been destroyed years ago. But...maybe. He looked back at the young man before him. "Dispatch a team. They are to bring this man back to me...alive."
  3. I'll definitely be purchasing this as well. I read most, if not all (can't remember if I ever finished) of what you posted on the site and absolutely loved it. I look forward to seeing the completed project.
  4. The Hunter's message was happily received on Cloud City. Silas took the Sith's advice to heart and began selling of the various securities and commodities that he had acquired over the years. If Faust was to be believed then he would be turning quite the profit on them in just a few days. At the same time shipments of rage began flowing out of the Black Sun hangars. Their destinations were numerous, encompassing the entirety of the Core Worlds and much of the Inner- and Mid-Rim worlds, reaching as far as Naboo. Before long, the entire galaxy would be boiling with RAGE.
  5. A response message was left waiting for Faust on the Black Sun network. --Comm-- I'm very pleased with your work thus far, Lord Faust. I'm anxious to hear about your plans for the future. You know where to find me and my door, as always, is open. I expect I'll be hearing from you soon. --End Message-- After the message was sent, Silas alerted his secretary that he was prepared to play host to Mr. Menethil should he still be around.
  6. "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."
  7. "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."
  8. 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."
  9. 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."
  10. ((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."
  11. ((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."
  12. ((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."
  13. "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.
  14. 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...?"
  15. Silas was in the middle of pouring himself a small whiskey - a reward for making it through an entire meeting with a woman and not mentioning or complimenting any specific body part - when the hologram appeared on his desk. He watched it curiously, amazed that a man with such a flamboyant smile would waste his time by sending a sales rep when he was so close by himself. It was only fair that Silas reciprocate. He took a measured sip of his drink before speaking. "You have your clearance to land, though I must admit to having another meeting scheduled at this time. When you land my guards will ensure that you find your way safely to my office. My secretary will inform you when I am ready for you." With that he terminated the transmission and sent a quick message to his secretary, asking her to invite Vothe, his guest and Delta to join him in his office. They certainly had much to discuss.
  16. ((No one could keep my name straight when I actively RPed here years ago and I come back two years later and suddenly everyone knows and remembers my name after I went through all the trouble of changing my character sheet for you all?! )) Silas kept his face passive as the woman gave her presentation. It was an adequate business pitch making use of logical arguments but it lacked any sort of flair. This was a dying company, even if their representative refused to admit it. The only thing that would save it would be drastic action, action that the company's CEO had neglected to take. A small line of text appeared on one of the monitors on his desk, barely visible out of his peripheral vision. He casually made his way back around to stand behind the structure while pondering this woman's proposal. The alert was from his secretary telling him that two agents had just reported back in from Coruscant. One went by the name of Vothe, a man that Silas recognized from his time on Dubrillion before Daisaku had gone crazy. The other he didn't recognize, though based on her appearance he would be rectifying that shortly. He sent a short response to his secretary requesting that she ensure the two operatives found their way to his office. With this accomplished he turned back toward the woman in front of him. "Your company is hemorrhaging credits because somewhere along the line someone made a bad choice and no one has done anything to correct it sense. The Galactic Civil War may be over but that does not mean that the citizens of the galaxy are all cheery, happy people. Conflict exists everywhere, you must simply know how to exploit it." He took great care in extinguishing his cigarette, savoring the metaphorical picture in his mind. The deathstick had served its purpose and now it was time to dispose of it. "I'm assuming, since you're here begging for help, that your CEO is ready to begin again in building a business empire. From this point on I'll need to speak with him in person. As pleasant as you are to look at, there is actual work to be done. Return to your employer and inform him that I'll accept nothing short of a fifty percent plus one vote on your Research, Development and Expansion goals and a face-to-face meeting here on Cloud City. If Black Sun is to save his company we are going to do it right."
  17. "That's about as interesting a story as I could have hoped for." He reached an arm behind his back to put the cigarette out in the ashtray resting on his desk, all the while holding her steady gaze. She was a business woman like so many others he had known. Efficient, intense and for some reason they tended to be quite beautiful, but if there was one thing to be learned after forty-plus years in this galaxy it was to never trust a beautiful woman. "As you can see I have little need for more security. I recently renovated this compound with top of the line equipment, perhaps even some of your employer's own making. I run a crime syndicate specializing in weapons, drugs and illegals. One company in a galaxy of trillions is of little consequence to me." Silas lit another cigarette, the motion appearing to be the most natural movement he knew, all the while still maintaining direct eye contact. "However, something about you has aroused my interest. So given that you now know that I can continue on from this moment having never met you or your company and not be the worse for it, I pose you one question: What's in it for me?" He let the question hang in the air for a second before continuing. "You see, I have the money to do as you request. To stop your stocks from falling and save your dying company and your job. Even if I didn't, the Black Sun has connections that far exceed even my own network. But why should I invest in you, rather than say a couple of nice prostitutes or an excessively over-priced bottle of booze? I've spent many years climbing up the proverbial ladder to get to where I am today and I spent a great number of those years dreaming about what I would do when I finally had everything I wanted, which brings us back to my original question: What's in it...for me?"
  18. "The last person to pitch me a business venture died at my hand." The words hung in the air like the thickest of fogs. Their eyes met as he spoke, each refusing to be the first to look away. It wasn't a threat, or a "promise" for that matter; it was the truth. This middleman needed to be aware of who she was dealing with and what the company she represented would be getting in to. A "partnership", for lack of a better word, with the Black Sun was not something to be entered in to lightly. "Twice." Silas leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. From what he understood it was rude to partake in mind-altering vices while in the midst of business discussions, so he ignored the spice and booze sitting on his desk. During their brief walk from the hangar bay one of the guards had informed him of their guest's unusual appendage, and as such they had remained in the room standing silently on either side of the only visible doorway out. He knew their presence wouldn't be necessary, but they served as a reminder of the brute force the Sun could still display. Finally breaking eye contact, he spoke. "I've developed a habit," a quick puff, "of investing in things I don't need and turning them into something that everybody else wants". He stood and slowly walked around his obscenely large desk, intentionally choosing the side where his pet was lying quietly alert, coming to stand directly in front of her. A long drag this time. Their eyes locked once more. "Tell me, Azhira Vemros, how is it that such a beautiful woman came to possess such a...unique attribute?"
  19. The MEA Shuttle was given clearance to land in docking bay 47. Upon their arrival, the shuttle's inhabitants would find two armed operatives ready to escort them.
  20. ((Ben would be a fool to believe that a single post, funny and well-written as it was, would destroy a faction. This group spanned many worlds and has known many leaders, all with their own secrets. My ñ has many contacts outside of the organization as well as having led the faction at one point himself. If Ben had bothered to killshot any of us or post something similar happening at other locations than Dubrillion then I might consider money an issue. As it stands I find it extremely plausible that my character would have access to this kind of funding. If it really bothers you feel free to PM me and we can talk this out and come to a mutual agreement. And Black Sun has never really been a group to to hide. Even in the EU they were feared and respected. That said, I'm always open to new ideas.)) A return comm that would have smelled of booze and tobacco if comm messages had a smell was sent back to Vothe. --Comm-- Smash was a fool who didn't know how to draw the line between work and play. He should have known that I would never fall so quickly or easily seeing as he trained me. I've seen this coming for years and have made...provisions, in the case that he should try to burn all of our hard work to the ground. The general stationed at the Cloud City installation during the time of the attack was loyal to me, and Delta under me, and as such ignored Daisaku's order. The base here remains and is fully operational. Return home agent. The rest of your life as one of the richest men in the galaxy awaits. --End Comm-- At the end of the message was an incredibly long and complex set of letters and numbers that would identify Silas Carde as the former leader of the Black Sun, Jacen Onnd. Any true Black Sun agent would recognize the encryption and comprehend what was in front of them.
  21. Construction was just concluding as Silas woke from his afternoon slumber. After weeks of staring at unsightly machinery and even more unsightly construction workers, it was refreshing to wake up and find the most incredibly voluptuous posterior looking back at him. It was attached to a perfectly formed pair of legs and a waist that couldn't have been more than 20 inches all the way around. "You must be my new secretary," he said with a slight grin on his face. The two beautiful cheeks in front of him rotated to be replaced by an equally beautiful, albeit slightly less impressive, pair with a smile between them. She was a breathtaking woman. The skintight dress she wore was doing its best, and failing miserably, to contain the mountains on her chest. Shimmering blonde hair fell just past her shoulders and her glasses gave her the look of a sexy, naughty librarian. "I see you found your uniform. Do you like it?" "It's a bit tight." "You'll get used to it," he chuckled with a wave of his hand. It was a clear dismissal and one she was wise to heed. She turned and left the room, her ample caboose bouncing along behind her. He could certainly get used to this view. He pulled both a joint and a cigarette from the pocket of his suit jacket, lighting the former and leaving the latter on his desk. He leaned back in his chair and pondered recent events. Over the past few weeks he had made substantial upgrades to the current Black Sun base of operations. All defense systems, both internal and external, had been tested for pin-point accuracy. The dreary interior, previously reminiscent of a mobile-military operation, now sported vaulting archways and lush carpet of the deepest black. The light fixtures were made of real gold and diamonds and gave the "base" a very warm air. The walls were a deep red, signifying the fire that Smash had started that had almost burned the Black Sun to the ground. It was that same fire that had been lit in his soul and prompted his return. Outdated equipment from the Research and Development Labs had been replaced with with state-of-the-art technology and were the labs themselves were now fully staffed around the clock. A massive training wing had been added on, boasting the latest in flight simulators as well as hand-to-hand combat and weapons facilities. The part that Silas truly cared about was his office. It was a large room, tastefully decorated, with three of its four walls being covered by computer monitors that flashed every thirty seconds to show the economic market conditions on thousands of different worlds. His desk was made of the finest wood from a long forgotten world and contained an unending supply of the finest liquor and drugs that could be found in this galaxy. He put out the joint and lit the cigarette, pouring himself a generous helping of his favorite spirit in the process. It was at this moment that a commotion outside his office drew his attention. A few seconds later one of his operatives came bursting through his door being dragged by an adolescent vornskr. About seven-tenths of a meter in height, its muscular frame made it an impressive sight. "I have the vornskr you requested, sir." "Yes, I can see that," Silas said through a grin. "You may go". The operative handed him the leash and left the room with a sense of haste that one did not see in most people. He smiled down at the beast, marveling at the amount of brilliant work that had gone in to creating this wonderful creature. The only way to truly tame a vornskr was to remove its poisonous stinger-tail. This particular beast had been raised with a Human Replica Droid fashioned after Silas himself. The vornskr had been taught a healthy respect for his new master while still learning the hunting skills that Silas so desperately desired. It would be his protection, his loyal bodyguard. He motioned the beast towards a luxurious looking pallet laying on the ground next to his desk where it promptly plopped down, resting its head on its paws and looking directly at the closed office door. It was all he could do to not laugh maniacally to himself at the sight of it. He moved back around the desk and sat down at his computer. He took another drag of the cigarette keyed in a few commands to the terminal. The commands he entered would send a signal out to ALL ACTIVE BLACK SUN OPERATIVES informing them of the erection of the new Citadel at Cloud City and telling them to return home. Today he had acquired the first of his hunters and soon the rest would arrive. He put the cigarette out in the ashtray. It was time to go hunting.
  22. As far as planets went, Bespin was pretty shitty. A giant ball of metallic gases that were uninhabitable but for the most minuscule fraction of the atmosphere. For all of its uses, Tibanna gas and Rethin among other things, it was still a floating sphere of clouds with no natural way to enjoy it. It was nothing more than a useless waste of a space, which made it the perfect place for a man who was supposed to be dead to resurface. A small Starwind-class pleasure yacht drifted through the pale orange clouds, its lone occupant sitting in the cockpit with a seemingly eternal scowl on his face. He had much to be angry about. He had served one criminal empire for more than 20 years now. He had seen leaders rise and fall, had served at their right hand, had risen and fallen as a leader himself and just when things had settled down and he was able to enjoy the spoils of his personally-waged war on society, Smash went a blew it all to hell. Literally. When the assassins had come he had lost every single one of the Black Sun agents most loyal to him. Those who had seen him through the faking of his own death once before and had assisted in his deception on Corellia. Those who had risen again with him from the ashes of a broken organization to stand at Smash's right hand. They died valiantly, doing their sworn duty to the very end. The battle had been fierce and in the end it was he alone who had survived. At that point he knew that he would have to shed his name. Vesper Stubernic, Jacen Onnd and all of his previous identities were as good as dead. Anything on current Black Sun record was useless to him. Thankfully he had spent his multiple decades with the organization gathering as much information as he could and making sure that it was backed up in places that he alone was aware of. Each leader of the Black Sun had brought a different vision for the organization and with those visions had come a vast number of resources. Resources that were, thanks to his forward thinking, all still readily available for his use. Abandoned terrorism projects, blackmail on thousands of world leaders, almost more information than he knew what to do with. Almost. The pleasure yacht burst through a cloud barrier and the rebuilt Cloud City broke into view. He spotted the Black Sun base of operations almost immediately and was struck with a pang of guilt at the sight of it. It was nice, sure, but it didn't even come close to holding a candle to the citadels of old. It made him long for a time when the mere sight of a Black Sun Citadel would strike fear into the hearts of their enemies. It had been a simpler age. Pushing the nostalgic memories from his mind he pulled out a long thin stick from his jacket, lit it, inhaled deeply, exhaled and allowed the slightest hint of a smile to creep on to his lips. The drug within was top of the line, cultivated at a tiny plantation and refinery on a backwater, Outer Rim world that he had invested in during his first few years with the Sun. It was his version of a death stick - what he called a joint. Given the way his head was spinning now he judged it to be a worthy investment. He took another drag and moved his hands to the dash. He began to transmit an incredibly long and complex series of identification codes that none other than Jacen Onnd's ghost would know. Before his eyes shields dropped, turbolasers powered down and a single, amazingly well-concealed docking bay door opened. He set his new ship, the Trump Carde, down and stood, brushing the front of his suit with both hands to alleviate the creases. His left hand moved over a reassuring bump in his left breast pocket. The gun made of pure gold given to him by Smash himself rested there. Inside it were bullets made of the finest Corusca gems harvested from the deepest reaches of Yavin Prime's core. It was an ever present reminder of the man who had done so much to shape his view on the galaxy. More than any other leader of the Black Sun, Smash had taught him what it was to be truly happy in this line of work. And then he had gone insane and burned it all to the ground. The landing ramp lowered and he descended it, taking a final drag of the joint. He dropped it to the ground and left it there to incinerate itself into oblivion. He let his hands casually fall into his pockets and walked away from the ship. He exited the private docking bay and found the turbolift that he had been looking for. He entered a few barely-remembered codes into the display and braced himself as the turbolift car began to race toward the main complex of the Black Sun base. He was back. After all these years and all he had suffered, he had finally returned. The car stopped and a true smile made its way on to his face. The *DING* of the turbolift marked the beginning of Silas Carde's Black Sun.
  23. Jacen was quite glad that his ruse had worked. The man who had entered his office, Kain or something to the effect, had damn near bored him to death before finishing his first sentence. He lit a cigarette and pondered how many "businessmen" had approached him in search of his hard-stolen money. He was looking for something more, something truly malicious to invest in. The galaxy had been calm for far too long. Jacen ripped the water pipe once more before standing and heading to the liquor cabinet in the corner. He poured himself a healthy amount of his favorite amber-colored liquid downed it in a single gulp, relishing the fire that it lit in his loins. He took a final drag off of his cigarette and, hating the environment more than Smash Daisaku, flicked the burning cylinder out of his open window while chuckling at the idea of it landing on some unsuspecting sap's head on the levels below.
  24. The receptionist granted Kain access to the Black Sun facility and provided directions to Jacen's office. She told him that the door would be open and Jacen was waiting. Though perhaps waiting was an incorrect term to use. In reality, Jacen was reclining in his chair and playing with the lighter that had so recently been used to bring forth from the water pipe sitting on his desk the wonderful aroma that now filled the air. After the message he had received from the Dark Lord and the news from Dr. Pang things could only be said to be going Jacen's way.
  25. The sounds of the celebration down below were enough to wake Jacen from his drunken snooze. He fell violently from the chair in his office and landed on the fluffy, carpeted floor before realizing where he was. He had woken up on this floor more times than he cared to remember. A soft beep from his desk, and the knowledge that it was likely his smokin'-hot secretary beeping him, was enough to motivate him to get up off the ground. He pressed a button on his desk and was immediately rewarded with a velvety response. "Mr. Onnd, you have a visitor here to see you." "Send him up." A few minutes later a shady character with dark skin, obviously a man from the little known planet of Acirfa, walked into Jacen's office. He set a heavy, metal case on Jacen's desk and began to speak with an extremely drawled accent. "Nah Mr. Onnd, I wantcha ta listen up real close nah. Av got somting dat you really gunna wanna see! Um not gunna even try ta trow you uh sales pitch cause dis stuff sells itself! Dey call it...Anaujiram!" The man pulled a heavy plastic bag out of his jacket pocket and handed it to the Black Sun Vigo. "Go aheed end light dat up." Jacen took the man's suggestion and retrieved a lighter from his desk drawer as well as his water pipe. He loaded the grass-like substance into his preferred piece and took a moment to admire his work. He summoned a flame from the depths of the machine and brought it to the twisted end of the cylinder. He took a long rip letting the fumes fill his lungs before slowly exhaling a steady stream of smoke. Jacen felt the effects instantaneously. He leaned back in his chair and rested the water pipe on his lap while his head began to soar. Everything seemed to have become much brighter, among other things, and Jacen knew that the fool in front of him had actually come across something worth Jacen's money. Too bad this idiot would never see any of it. "How much of this did you say you have?" "Um tryin' ta move ahundred kilos, Mr. Onnd. Ya interested? Jacen smiled. He was very interested. His arm gave a slight twitch and with a flash of gold and a loud bang the unnamed drug dealer fell to the floor in a pool of blood. The Black Sun Vigo pushed a button on his desk, summoning a team of men to come clean up the mess in his office and another team to bring the rest of the drugs from the ship that the dealer had arrived on. The now-happy executive leaned back once again in his chair and ripped the water pipe again. It had been a productive day.
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