Dubrillion

[Pinckz]

Malin tilted his head slightly to the right in a gesture of nonchalance and two cracks followed his movement, the earlier one a little louder than the one that followed.

 

He brandished his medium vibroblade for a moment, forgetting it was still in his hand from moments before and instead of responding in kind to the lethal greeting he was offered, he leveled the sword with the ground for a moment and slowly sheathed it in a leather case attached to his back.

 

For a moment the light of the sky shone off of two smaller metal pieces in each of his sleeves and something on the inside of his duster. The movement seemed deliberate, but nothing on his face indicated as much. In fact, he still wore the same grin from before, only this time he accompanied it with a casual stance and his hands up in a mock surrender.

 

"Well well well, it seems they called all the stops for my welcoming party huh? " Malin's vote of sarcastic confidence in the situation was slightly on par with how he actually felt, but something about the way the woman stood reminded him of a way he used to carry himself. It was an eerie feeling that hung on his thoughts, but not on his face.

 

His blue eyes delved as deep as they could into the gray that greeted them, but dared not venture further, even if his wit seemed a little spiky.

 

"I'm here seeking employment. The shithole that I so previously called home didn't want me anymore and I felt I should seek a more glamorous line of work. So, how 'bout it?"

[Black Sun Agent(s)]

Horatio sat back, analysing his various holo records. He had decided to sell the naming rights to the great and mighty Lord Ar-Pharazon as ordered. Within several minutes, the comm was sent and Horatio was back to looking at his files.

 

A small holo beamed back at him, a young girl with blonde hair, pointed ears, with shocking green eyes. Oh and she was getting tortured horribly. He checked the name and saw he labelled as a jedi padawan. After several hours of research, he found her master's comm number and sent her a message, telling her of the girl's location, and that a agent had been dispatched after the girl.

 

Humanitarian perhaps. And was that pot he smelled? What was Jacen doing up there?

[Terra]

Terra smiled coldly at the man before her, observing his actions carefully. The man seemed to think highly of himself, and thought himself a comedian, neither of which were flattering traits. His words hung in the air between them like fog blowing in off the ocean. She was unsure of the man's intentions, but he seemed like a man who had seen some fighting in his day, and Black Sun could always use more grunts. She opened her pale lips, revealing her perfectly white teeth, and began to speak slowly, her voice small, yet powerful.

 

”œWell”¦ Follow me then. Hand your ID chit to the guard as you pass through. Mind your weapons”¦”

[Pinckz]

Damn, nice teeth...

 

The thought was enough to make Malin regret and feel ashamed of his own notably straight, although unremarkable set of dentures. However, this discomfort, and every other contention, were all under the surface. Even if his traits came off as mildly insulting, he didn't want to send completely different messages in the same day. It just wasn't professional.

 

Meanwhile, while Malin's thoughts wandered and as the young lady moved about, guiding Malin through the compound, the mercenary busied himself with scoping the young woman out. His glance could have easily been mistaken for another manner if one casually glanced his way, but as the woman walked with him through the compound, Malin was able to take a closer look at how the woman carried herself, how her weight moved around on each limb, and for some strange reason it reminded him of something he had seen once before. He was trained to see such things years ago and the habits were conditioned into him, but it had been a while since he used them offhand, so he wasn't really good at hiding his glance. He was about to debate with himself about what the woman's posture might mean, when he was grabbed by a few flunkeys and led through a side door.

 

The movements were quick, so even if Malin bothered to acknowledge their movements, he wouldn't have been able to counter in time. However, their motions toward his shoulders and arms weren't hostile, so much as disabling, which meant they were there to ”˜escort' him to another room.

 

It was a prompted gesture, so he could tell that she was essentially ushering him away, but he was kind of sad to see the woman go. He had almost finished his previous observations and formed a conclusion, but now he would have to put up with what he had for the time being, which wasn't all that much.

 

A few minutes with the guards though, seemed to last forever. Malin realized the young agent from before made a lot better company than dingus and fingus. It became clear, after a few minutes of comments and remarks that the two stooge guards holding Malin honestly didn't seem like they could put two and two together or much less come up with a solid sentence without assistance. Malin attempted to talk to one of them further and engage in what he hoped would be appropriate conversation, but the words seemed to hit the side of the man's ear and fall. All Malin heard in response was a dull sound and a glazed stare. Their only saving grace and therefore their only justification for employment seemed to be their strength, which is why, when Malin was pushed into the room he was required to enter, Malin could still feel their grips on his shoulders.

 

It was an eerie feeling, but even if it lingered, the bulk of the feeling eventually went away after Malin was given something else to focus on. One of the thugs grumbled for a moment and handed him a clipboard that he had to turn over to read, because all of the text was upside down when he went to read it. Malin tried not to chuckle at this, given that he didn't think the guards even knew what a sense of humor was and he wasn't content with having his face rearranged just in case they understood enough of what he said to be offended. So, Malin chose to not let it faze him as he started intently at the paperwork in front of him. It was tedious and annoying, but he knew it was the practice of monotony required for his employment, so he chose to find ways in which to make filling the form more amusing, so it would pass time quicker. Not that is was really necessary, given that each form didn't require much. Still, the necessary pieces of information were all in their proper spots when the woman from before walked into the room wearing something a great deal similar to Malin's wardrobe.

 

Malin took a quick look up from his paperwork and smirked.

 

”œIt seems my fashion finally came into style... Glad to know I'm worth something.”

[Terra]

”œ”¦After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

[Black Sun Operative[s]]

A Black Sun scientist approaches Lord Daisaku, having taken the initiative to report on his own.

 

This scientist, code named Aginor, had once accompanied Daisaku on the Golden Dawn to a meeting at the Spire. A former war criminal under his old name of Ishar Morrad Chuain during his time with the Empire, Aginor was a scholarly looking man, clad in a white lab coat with overly large, thick glasses. He was balding, and his remaining hair was as white as snow.

 

"Number One," he stated formally. "I wanted to run by you a set of experimental droids to use in our dealings, particularly against CoreSec, but also in case any force users get in our path."

 

Aginor holds up a disc showing what looked like a HRD-Human Replica Droid-very ordinary and unassuming, it took on an unnaturally fluid motion as the holovid showed it in action.

 

"The entire thing is composed of nanites, an artifical human made that way. He's extremely fluid and can kill quickly, squeezing into tight spaces. Given the cost of making them, I figure at most we can make six- three males and three females, though for now, this prototype will have to do. I believe it will be good for espionage and assassination in particular. To that end, I've made it so it must feed off blood to replenish itself so it is forced to train and hunt. It's nano particles are made by false companies that lead back to the old Empire, so blame will fall to them if it's captured. A quick cut to rip out someone's throat and it can feed, though here, an artificial I.V. drip will keep staff fatalities to a minimum- unless you wish it otherwise to test or dispose of some of our lesser agents. Because it's a walking, viscious mass of nanites, it's also a bit more resistant to force tricks, though EMPs and force lightning can severely hurt it, causing burns and parts of it to solidify and break apart. I call it the HRD-Gholam."

 

He leaves the holovid on Smash's desk, then produces a second one.

 

It shows a slave with a peculiar looking device in his chest- like a simple stopper placed where the heart should be.

 

"I call this the heartplug. It's a mildly invasive procedure that does what it says. A good yank and the heart pours its lifeblood out in a gorey mess. It's a bit messier than say a hidden bomb or an exploding collar for slaves, but it can be combined with an autonomous system that causes them to eject under certain conditions. If nothing else, it's visible and it generates fear, keeping our slaves in line. the downside is it is hard to reverse and could easily trace back to a line of slaves and possibly us if our business partners are careless."

 

The vid shows a masked agent pulling the slaves plug with a casual yank and twist. The slave gasps as blood spurts out of his chest, his fingers reaching in to cover the wound. In less than a minute the slave lies motionless and lifeless in a red pool.

 

"I await your approval, Number One."

[Black Sun Agent(s)]

Horatio sat in his golden chair, more like a stool really, but it didn't matter. It was still freaking gold. He ran his hands through his gold-red hair, he was thinking again. A very dangerous passtime to be sure, but the thoughts were of genocide and conquest. He steepled his fingers and smiled. His thin, pale, pale lips stretching across his white teeth.

 

He picked up his comm link and sent a quick transmission to his agents abroad. It was time for a strike. For conquest and the glory of this mighty black sun.

 

He spun his chair to his corporal, "Prepare the army for war, death is upon us, marshal the bannermen. We strike for deep space within the day!"

 

Across the system, black sun fighter squadrons and light vessels began to power up. Many were fitted with missiles galore, and the pilots prepared for the coming mission. The ground forces assembled as well, the mission teams assembling in squads of 12 under their bannermen. Together, they armed and boarded the shuttlecraft. The strike would take the systems unawares. Horatio himself armed and began his preparations. War was coming.

[Terra]

”œSo where are we off to now, mon Capitan? Are we off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of the cos... mos?"

 

Adjusting the gauntlets on her thin, pale arms, Terra turned to Malin, raising an eyebrow at his rambling. He was an odd mercenary, but most likely a competent one. Typing on the navigational computer, preparing to bring the ship out of hyperspace, Terra spoke softly.

 

”œWe're about to exit over Dubrillion, where we'll meet up with a strike team, for a mission, of some sort. Sorry about all this jumping from planet to planet. There's an odd thing about being an agent... We can get pulled out of our personal vendettas at any time. When we meet up with Delta, we'll learn what we can.”

[Smash Daisaku]

Like a madman, Smash Daisaku approved of Aginor's designs. ”œAginor, you have the Great Lord's own luck! Your innovations continue to impress me. Yes, this is fantastic. We should set it loose on someone immediately, and I have an idea for a victim.”

[Delta73]

The St. Catheryne jumped from the realms of hyperspace. His men quickly landed the behemoth of a ship, which was coloured a icy blue. In recognition of its namesake. He was in his chambers redressing in his familiar katarn-class armour. He was satisfied, he was loaded up with his familiar weapons yet again, and the Uriel was awaiting him.

 

He clamoured down the boarding ramp to see his familiar ship awaiting him with 11 other heavy fighters. They were rebuilt and upgraded ARC-170 heavy fighters. Three people to a ship, they were the best trained heavy fighter corps out in the galaxy. All had been handpicked by himself for the mission. There was Caedes 1, or the Uriel, commanded by Himself, Lieutenant Ariana Levothe who was the gunner, and Ensign Martin Froebesher who was the dedicated co-pilot.

 

The next ship was the Caedes 2, or the Arya, commanded by Lieutenant Liam Charton. Captain Horatio himself commanded Caedes 3, the Trafalgar. Lieutenant Matthew Daemon commanded Caedes 4, the Yevethan Report. Cathrine Rowlander commanded Caedes 5, the Lannister Confession. Caedes 6, or the Frostfang, was under the command of Lieutenant Jason Coset. Caedes 7, the Maltese Ward, was under the command of Lieutenant Aaron Whilhiem. Lieutenant Lazarion Dankes commanded Caedes 8, the Verazia. Lieutenant Ryke Xzander commanded Caedes 9, The Serpintine Grasp. Lieutenant Patrick Umbar commanded Caedes 10, the Roose Bolton. Jonah Vrisa a Lieutenant second-class commanded Caedes 11, the Fire of Gondolin. Simone Galzar a Lieutenant first class commanded Caedes 12, the Knight of Windsor.

 

Together, they lifted their ships from the births, and proceeded to the hyperspace buoy on the edge of the system. Terra's strike fighters followed. The Shuttles and Freighters would follow in time.

 

"Caedes Squadron, Engage Hyperdrives!"

[Black Sun Agent(s)]

Mission perimeters had been sent, as well as the shuttles and dedicated agents, approved by Vigo Delta. As he had taken over the mission, all other requests would have to go through him. Horatio shut down the responder link, as all agents needed were already sent, and there was no need to have more random people showing up.

 

So the agents went back to watching the various entertainment offered throughout the base. It was awesome.

[Sheog the Mad]

A long-beam, encrypted transmission arrives for Black Sun, via The Sith Empire's Frequency: Requesting the traditional alliance between the evil factions of old.

[Vothe Kyrik]

Vothe Kyrik had played a business man once, and he'd done his research, but managing Black Sun affairs with the position that Daisaku had given him was not his kind of work. While it had been sufficient to occupy him, he had spent much of his time training himself, keeping his body strong and honing his other abilities. He practiced with knife, blaster, and, in private, away from the inquiring eyes of the Black Sun agents around him, lightsaber. While he was in charge of some business aspects in the organization, he was first and foremost an assassin.

 

And now he was getting thirsty. As an anzati, he could only go so long without feeding, and now it was starting to make him stir-crazy. He needed to get back out into the galaxy, find a target that would satisfy his thirst. And, indeed, now was the time. His orders came in from higher-up, and he had a target.

 

Skilled in the art of deception, Vothe considered his options for taking out someone that belonged to the faction his target did. There were a number of disguises he could assume, at least one of them being well-established. Of course, using that alias would risk giving away its secret. No, he was eager to try something different. He would go this time with other Black Sun agents, instead of working alone. They would be suitable to draw attention away from him so he could make his move at the opportune moment.

 

Kyrik knew of some special agents that were eager for field work, agile and resilient, a new breed of operative. Making his way through the complex, his footsteps soundless and very few even noticing his passing, he arrived quickly at the location where they were even now standing ready.

 

"Operatives," he addressed them. "It's time for your field test. Are you ready?"

[Black Sun Operative[s]]

Aginor opens the paper and then takes a lighter to promptly burn it.

 

"An excellent test Number One. I'll see to it at once, as well as having the heart plugs installed. I'll try to leave a few features that lead back to the Hutts." He states the last with a smirk, wadding up the bills and stuffing them in his pocket.

 

Departing from Smash, Aginor awakens his creation in a distant part of the base, removing it from the stasis chamber where it "hybernated" until it was ready to be fully activated. Doing so, he looks at the monster with apprehension, and then briefs it on his target, using another holodisplay to do so.

 

"This is the one marked for death," he states cooly. "See to it that it meets him. You have an unmarked shuttle from a smuggler waiting. Use the usual random jumps and clear the log so it cannot be traced back to us."

 

The gholam stares unblinkingly at his creator, obedience bred into its very being. The clothes that were built into its form held a few essentials such as ID and credits, but nothing resembling a weapon. It was the weapon and was built to tear sentient beings apart with its bare hands. Compliant, it leaves the base to track down and eliminate its target.

[Delta73]

The signal towers within the black sun base was alive with activity. The Comm operators relayed signals from the thousands of incoming and outgoing comms from Dubrillion. All were recorded, and all were reviewed. All in the interest of national security.

 

The Chief Scanning Technician reported from the tower, ”œThere are rapidly approaching vessels on the inbound sir, just emerging from hyperspace!”

[Smash Daisaku]

Counting money was like a sport. ”œAnd I have plenty of that,”

[Delta73]

Delta finished unloading the beskar with his men, and had dispatched many tonnes to his allies across the galaxy, some to all together secret locations. He sighed as his comm-link buzzed a deep sound, he had been summoned.

 

He quickly changed into the attire of his rank, a yellow satin doublet, with the Black Sun insignia embroidered in fine black across the chest. He carried the standard of the Bespin Garrison, indicating he was indeed the Vigo of Bespin.

 

He approached the dais and knelt. "My Lord Daisaku, I am here to serve."

[Terra]

The shuttle full of Mandalorian metallurgists arrives at Dubrillion. A comlink message arrives at the same time for Delta.

[Delta73]

Delta continued to kneel as the hours passed. When Smash did not respond, Ca'Aran declared that a sacrifice must be made. A thousand slaves were slaughtered in the manner of the Ewok massacres in 86. The bodies were piled into huge piles and lit ablaze, the sickly sweet smell of roasting flesh was refreshing. An offering to the pagan gods of war.

 

Delta received his Comm message and nodded, with a blink within his HUD he sent the shuttles off to another area, to be processed, and have their secrets exposed. He knew a lot about the iron, it could simply not be smelted down and designed without their secrets. And luckily enough, he knew just the person for such a heinous act.

[Qaela]

A small, unarmed ship dropped out of hyperspace well away from the planet. In the cockpit, Qaela sat with a frown on her face and a furrowed brow. This was the moment she had dreaded for weeks. She didn't know if Ca'Aran was here or not, so she simply sent a small ping through his private network. If he was here, he would get it, if not, she would wait until he arrived.

[Smash Daisaku]

Smash Daisaku now sat upon a jewel-covered throne, waving a scepter. ”œMy old friend, we have been dragging our feet. We need to finish our new citadel. You know of what I speak. However, before we do that, we need to initiate something else. I want you to concoct and envision, then design, then direct and produce, and finally run a commercial that slanders CoreSec harder than ever before. Make them appear as thieving, lying sexual deviants that could not catch a cold, much less a criminal. Then, report back immediately. I have another task for you as well. It involves the Jedi.”

[Qyrisa]

Qyrisa was impatiently pacing the ship. They had been out of hyperspace for several hours now and had yet to receive a reply from Ca'Aran. She was itching to get on with the mission, but instead they were just waiting. Part of her anger stemmed from knowing she had little time to catch up to her sister's skill level and therefore she wished to use every moment to improve. The entire trip here Qyrisa had practiced with the drone and done the few other simple exercises her sister had shown her, but Qaela refused to teach her anymore. She knew she shouldn't be so annoyed by this, but she couldn't help it.

 

After ten minutes of pacing Qyrisa retreated to her quarters. She would continue to hone her developing Force skills while they waited.

[Delta73]

Ca'Aran sent Qaela a comm clearing her for landing on his personal strip. Delta strode back into the audience chamber, still dressed in a blood soaked coresec uniform. He laughed somewhat maniacally, and knelt again. "My lord, the commercial has been aired during the children's hour of Holonet programming. If anything, the commercial will turn the youth against CoreSec."

 

He lowered his head, "What is the next mission that you have for me?"

[Smash Daisaku]

”œThis plan is the most important yet,”

[Vothe Kyrik]

Deciding after all the that agents would only slow him down and went against his typical style of stealth and hiding in plain sight, Vothe departed from the Black Sun structure he had been occupying. The assassin was good at what he did, and one of the keys to being successful in his field of work was maintaining the element of surprise. Walking around flanked by a half dozen goons, subtle though they might be, was much more likely to draw attention than going alone. And that would ruin everything.

 

With his ornate knife, a blaster carbine, a set of intrusion tools and the weapon that made him unique among his peers, Vothe made his way to his ship. He was back on the hunt, and his record so far was perfect. This was not going to change that.

 

Soon, he was leaving Dubrillion and entering hyperspace, heading for the destination where he was most likely to gain clues as to the location of his target.

[Qaela]

Qaela's hands were shaking with anxiety as she guided her ship to the landing strip Ca'Aran had designated. It took considerable effort to shield her emotions from prying eyes, though she was worried at how much Qyrisa was getting. It wouldn't do her much good if her sister thought her weak even though there was very, very good reason to be anxious at meeting a man as powerful as Ca'Aran on a planet that was essentially the private fortress of the organization he was a leader in. If he decided that he did not like the news she brought him, things could go very poorly for the two Nightsisters.

 

Once they landed, she lowered the ramp. Together, the two of them stepped out onto the permacrete and into the watchful eyes of some of Ca'Aran's bodyguards. Knights he had called them. She didn't like their eyes boring into her with what she saw as distrust. During their flight to Coruscant, she had never gotten the impression that they liked her one bit. They only seemed to tolerate her presence because their boss did, but she figured that they had secretly cast lots to see who would get to run her through with their durasteel sword.

 

She was wearing the oversize charcoal robes that were about the only thing that fit her growing bulge, but had her cortosis staff on her back and lightsaber on her belt. It wasn't that she would ever dream of using them against Ca'Aran even if he did decide to kill her, but she figured that she would bring them along just in case some other Sith lunatic decided to attack.

 

She didn't see or sense Ca'Aran nearby, so they waited.

[Delta73]

Delta inclined his head and honourably took the offered notebook. He stood, saluted, and marched down the halls to where his comm told him to go. Some of his knights had reported Qaela's appearance, and he knew that he would have to meet with her. His heart fluttered uncomfortably as a grin spread across his face. He flipped casually through the yellowed pages and thought of whom he could possibly think of replacing Smash with. Well there was himself...Whom he considered the most eligible candidate. Or perhaps Vothe, a man that Delta had never met. There was Jacen, and Terra, and Malin as well. All good choices, though Delta could feel a sense of remorse that Brendan was no longer here. Taken by an ailing heart whilst Delta was on assignment.

 

Then his thoughts fled him as he rounded the corner and glimpsed his beloved. He bowed and took her hand, "What brings you to this humble planet my lady?"

[Qaela]

Qaela's heart dropped as she sensed Ca'Aran drawing closer. Her stomach was in a knot with apprehension and concern over what she had to do. She kept her face passive, though, it wouldn't do any good for the knights to see her so anxious. They might interpret it as something altogether different and attack her in their zealous desire to defend their lord.

 

All thoughts of apprehension briefly fled when she saw him in a tattered police uniform covered in blood. For a moment, she thought he had been attacked and reached out in the Force to check him. Her alarm changed to anger as she realized he was unharmed. The anger wasn't just at him for the surprise, but at herself for reacting as such. There was a time when she would have rather died than cared what happened to anyone else, especially a male.

 

He didn't seem to care that he was covered in a bloody uniform, but simply took her hand and asked what she was here for. It took an effort not to let her anger or apprehension seep into her voice as she responded, "I came to see you. That and the time to give birth is nearing and I need to be in a secure place with good care." It was at least most of the truth.

 

She gestured to her sister and said, "This is my sister, Qyrisa, and I mean that in the literal sense. She has recently been dispatched by our Mother to see why I haven't returned home. I have revealed many things to her after which she has proven most eager to deal with that hag in the most violent of manners.

 

"I need to speak to you, though. In private," she added.

[Delta73]

Delta bowed honourably, "It is an honour to meet you miss Qyrisa, I do hope you enjoy your stay." He gestured to a pair of his knights, "Simone, Gallagar, show this kind lady to her room, and make sure the pantry is well stocked with Dathomiri provisions, to make her feel at home."

 

Simone and Gallagar did as they were ordered, and escorted Qyrisa to her magnificent chambers. Easily bigger than her whole village, with slaves of both sexes fawning over her. They offered her golden rings and necklaces of pearl, and goblets of the finest ales and champaigns. All funded and supplied from Delta's great coffers.

 

Delta escorted Qaela to a different place all together, a room, sparse and Spartan. His own room. "What is it my lady? What doth trouble you?"

[Qaela]

Qaela noted with irony at how his rooms seemed to suit him. She had never pictured him to be one who liked decadence and superfluous displays of wealth, but as a simple soldier who just happened to have a great deal of power. That observation didn't cheer her up or put her at ease. She was still morose as they made the short trip to his quarters.

 

"What is it my lady? What doth trouble you?" he asked when they were alone.

 

Her stomach was doing flips, and it wasn't a good thing. She was nervous, almost terrified in a way she hadn't been even when facing Mother's punishments. She dreaded what she had to say, but it was best to simply get it over so he could unleash his wrath and disapproval upon her.

 

"You know that I am somewhat limited in my ability to use the Force due to my ancestry, yes? That is why introducing Sith offspring into the Nightsister's bloodline was so important because it brought new strength to my people. I have told you this before.

 

"Well, I was not content with being inferior to others, so one of the reasons why I went to the Sith was to seek a way to increase my connection to the Force and give me more raw power. I desired to be greater than my Sisters, even if I would be considered only normal to the rest of the Galaxy."

 

She hesitated at this point and found she could no longer look at Ca'Aran. "Ar-Pharazon found such a way, a sort of Sith ritual involving sorcery, blood, and raw passions. I am not sure if it was necessary or if he was simply taking advantage of me, but he claimed that sex was necessary to the ritual." A few tears began to well up in her eyes from her shame. "I obliged him and took part in the ritual.

 

"It worked, Force knows it worked, but it came at a cost." Her voice had dropped to almost a whisper. "Ar-Pharazon betrayed me. After the ritual, after he had his way with me, he told me that the effects were temporary. He said that if I didn't repeat the ritual with him every few months, I would not only lose what gains I made, but would lose all of my connection to the Force."

 

"I know how you feel regarding such things and know you would never be able to accept me now. I cannot tolerate repeating the ritual with him and I cannot live without the Force. I am here only to deliver my babies so that I may give them to you before I go and meet my end. I will have my vengeance against all those who have wronged me before my connection with the Force is too far degraded, but I will not hurt you by getting killed before I deliver. That is all I can do for you now. I am sorry.

 

"I ask only that you do not harm my sister. She had no part in my actions and may yet be of some use to you. If you cannot stand her presence, I beg you, send her away instead of killing her."