Dubrillion

[Vothe Kyrik]

Vothe twitched. He was in his quarters, and had been meditating before the comm had interrupted his reverie. He checked the device and read the brief report. It seemed that he had business to attend to, and he had little more than a name and a last known location. Thankfully, the location was small and easy to search, and the individual's presence there would be prominent. He would, almost certainly, be able to hide in plain sight, and this time it wouldn't even take a disguise to pull off.

 

On his feet in a moment, the agent gathered his equipment and set off silently through the base to the hangar, where he picked a suitable vessel--a TIE Defender, which the Black Sun had been using in its armada since the days when they had been so overt as to use capital ships--and departed the world of Dubrillion.

 

His thoughts were his own. His plan came together instantly in his mind. He had no doubt of success.

[Qaela]

After a considerable amount of time, Qaela could see that the discussion was going nowhere. She had warned Daisaku of Delta's treachery and that was all she could do. Perhaps in the future, he would recognize this and repay the courtesy, though she somehow doubted that.

 

"It is time for us to leave," she declared to Lucifer and the pilot. "There is no more we can do here at this point. Furion will have to accept the reality of what is and if he does not like it, then he is not strong enough to lead the Sith."

 

As they were still in orbit of Dubrillion, jumping into hyperspace wouldn't be difficult at all. "Plot us a course to Korriban," she told the pilot. "Make a couple of random jumps, too, just in case Black Sun decides to follow." She didn't feel like explaining anything to the minion, so she didn't. Her plans were her own and until someone stronger could take control of the ship, that was how things would be. She found that now that she was liberated from her hesitance towards using brute force, things were so much more simple. She now saw why the Sith believed in the right of might when it came to ruling. As long as the weaker were subservient to the stronger, things worked out well. When the weak grew strong, then it was their right to take the power from the weaker.

 

The pilot was no fool, he knew that the life expectancy of snippy or hesitant Acolytes was shorter than a candle on Hoth, so he quickly plotted the course and jumped the shuttle into hyperspace.

[Vothe Kyrik]

A TIE Defender appeared from hyperspace and descended toward the Dubrillion base. The pilot, Vothe Kyrik, wasted no time getting clearance and then landing in the Black Sun base's main hangar. He soundlessly disembarked through the advanced starfighter's top hatch and slipped out of the hangar toward his personal quarters to review in further detail the outline of the new assignment he'd been passed down.

 

It looked like there was a challenge ahead of him. The target was an extremely wealthy individual who had taken to locking himself and his fortune into a personal fortress. On one hand, Vothe had infiltrated extremely well defended locations such as the Kuat Shipyards and the non-public parts of the Golden Link Casino, but in those circumstances it had been easy to fabricate an identity of an individual with a right to be in those locations. This would be a much more detailed job and one where it would be considerably more difficult to hide in plain sight.

 

There was a significant slicing job involved, too. Vothe was accomplished at writing viruses and programs that could accomplish his goals on a computer network, but generally he took his time to gain authorization through deception rather than actually attempting to slice through security systems. He would have to make something work this time. But chances were, in such a secure environment, he would need some additional muscle in case it turned into a fight--especially for the exit strategy. This wasn't a one-man job, and the description confirmed that he was authorized to recruit a team of individuals.

 

Kyrik logged into the Black Sun network and started looking for someone with a combat background but also some tact. Always before he had operated alone, and he didn't need to recruit some bumbling idiot who didn't know when it was time to shoot from when it was time to talk.

[Zaran Desh]

"There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enoughand liked it, never care for anything else thereafter!"

 

"This is Jzo Reez, pilot for the licensed Bounty Hunter Zaran Desh, requesting permission to land."

 

The face a strong Kel Dor filled the screen of the Black Sun flight tower as the ship ID of the Mabari Rogue quickly filled a second computer terminal. The flight officer scanned through the documentation and came to the important section; the section where the owner of the ship, Zaran Desh, had recently been contracted with Black Sun and given authentication to land at the Dubrillion facility. After a momentary delay, the flight officer quickly gave Jzo Reez permission to land.

 

"Thank you. My Master is most gracious."

 

As the screen cut off, the Kel Dor switched the freight to autopilot and made his way to his living quarters. Standing in front of a mirror in the living quarters, the orange skinned Kel Dor stripped himself to the waist and removed the protective goggles covering his eyes first, then droppedthe breathing mask to the floor as well. The echoes of the metal mask on the floor were like explosions aboard the otherwise quiet ship, only the gentle hum of the engines broke up the perfect silence. Staring into his own pitch black eyes, the Kel Dor in the mirror braced himself for the immense pain and watched as the changes began to take place.

 

At first the orange color seemed to drain away from his face, leaving a sickly green in its place.The extrasensory organs that framed the strong facial frame seemed to pull back against Jzo's head seemingly to fuze with the head. The young shapeshifter lurched, vomiting from pure pain, as the bone structure beneath his skin cracked, fractured, then broke as it reformed itself. Raising his head, the once blck pupils were now replaced with large eyes, slit with yellow pupils. Opening what could be considered a Kel Dorian mouth wide, the skin began to stretch, each end coming together,to form a normal humanoid mouth. The tusks on each side of the mouth slowly began to shrink back, seemingly pulling on the sickly looking skin even after they disappeared, resulting in very shrunken cheeks. The now fuxed extra sensory organs slowly began to shrivel until all that was left were ears. Lastly, the nose that had grown from the top of Kel Dor mouth, was split in two, resulting in the final product of a Clawdite changeling.

 

Shaking out the remaining pain, Zaran Desh jerked his neck to both side, preparing himself for one more change.

 

As the Mabari Rogue landed in the hangar bay of the Dubrillion facility, the boarding ramp lowered and a tall Chiss warrior walked from the depths of the freighter. The weapons scattered across his body were evidence of his profession and the ease of which he carried himself showed he no doubt knew how had to handle each weapon with deadly proficiency. While most hunters he knew preferred to wear helmets, covering their faces and giving an extra layer of protection, Zaran had always loved the exhilaration of unmasked combat. He always felt a helmet limited some instincts that were crucial to a hunters skills in the field. And now here he was, summoned to a backwater planet for a reason he had yet to discover. Hopefully the promise of credits he had been given would fulfilled.

[Anilara Kadav]

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN ANSWERING MACHINE!!!?? GORRAMMIT! I'M DONE TALKING TO YOU!"

 

Anilara's once pale face was now a fuming scarlet. The notable blood vessel on her head that pronounced itself when she was irritated, was almost full to burst. The silver comm link that glistened in her hand was an ironic testament to future technology and how, even if the technology of the age was state of the art, you could still have issues.

 

"Frakking robot. How could Smash be gone? And what is he doing that he wouldn't bring some sort of correspondence? Clubbing with his wife?" Anilara was muttering in futile rage inspired rants that would go on for a few minutes at a time. Her flight had been relatively uneventful, but she was still caught up in the incident at her apartment. The only good thing from this trip was that she figured out that her kids had tracking chips implanted under their skin so she was going to check the database at Black Sun HQ to track them down. That, or she was going to track them, send a firing squad to their location and obliterate the kidnappers. Either one.

 

She arrived on a normal shuttle craft to a planet three planets over and joined up with a Black Sun convoy on their way to the Dubrillion checkpoint. All in all it was fairly standard, but when she called Smash to get his assistance she wasn't given good results. The robotic answering machine consisted of a cooing female voice that was meant to soothe and incite patience, but the more she spoke, the more Anilara felt like punching the machine in the face.

 

Anilara was dressed in her black jumpsuit and combat boots. She was ready for battle, even if she hadn't found one yet.

Edited November 27, 2012 by Guest

[Vothe Kyrik]

There was a new name in the files that caught Vothe's eye. A bounty hunter named Zaran Desh and of all species a Chiss. That told the Anzat a lot, for Chiss bounty hunters were exceptionally rare. He had done some research into their societal structure when he had disguised himself as a Chiss to aid in the assassination of former Emperor Nokrt. Ultimately, Chiss who left the Unknown Regions and joined the galaxy at large usually did so only due to disgrace. Typically, they would be free of the restrictive code of their people (which was violated in many ways in a profession such as bounty hunting) and yet still hold on to their analytical nature.

 

The assassin was under no illusions--Black Sun was largely made up of petty criminals, malcontents, and purposeless murderers. Although he had been known to prey upon lesser sentients himself from time to time, Vothe had no interest in working alongside someone so unpredictable. He was taking a risk based only on a very basic file, but Desh sounded like he had yet to be influenced by the criminal opulence of Black Sun and thus could still be both sharp and driven by more than battle lust. At the very least perhaps he would have the decency to be driven by credits.

 

Saving his mission details to a datapad and logging off from the computer terminal, the cloaked man disembarked from his quarters and migrated, quiet as a specter, back toward the main hangar, hood raised. Shadows seemed to follow him wherever he moved, and even the base's security cameras did not mark his passing as he moved to intercept Desh.

 

Indeed, as he was approaching the hangar he witnessed the tall Chiss warrior passing through the doors into the main part of the installation. "Zaran Desh," he said telepathically to the man, making use of the natural abilities of the Anzati as he approached. "I am Operative Vothe Kyrik. Forgive my briefness, but I have a business proposition for you, should you choose to accept it. I think you will find the pay equal to the challenge." Now standing before the Chiss, he produced the datapad from earlier with the contract details and offered it to the bounty hunter.

 

And that was about it. Vothe didn't kid himself with extended introductions, but got right down to business. It occured to him how strange it might be for Zaran to be approached by a being whose footfalls made no sound and who spoke directly into his mind within moments of coming on base. Accordingly, he measured Zaran's response carefully.

[Zaran Desh]

Zaran silently stalked the halls of Dubrillion, wondering why he was here and who had summoned him. From what he had heard of Black Sun, he would fit in well here. As of late, the reputation of the organization had fallen somewhat. Most of the hunters and foot soldiers under the employ of the syndicates Vigos were mere thugs. They held neither real skill or talent, just a desire to seem like big fish in whatever little pond they happened to reside. What they couldn't understand, what they would never understand, due to their brutish nature, was that there would always be a bigger fish.

 

Zaran Desh

 

Hearing his name whispered from the shadows, the Chiss halted immediately and his hand dropped to the pistol at his side. Sliding the catch off the holster he prepared to draw the weapon when he noticed a shadow he had overlooked quickly materialized into a being of flesh and blood. Allowing himself to relax only slightly, his eyes widened in surprise as the man spoke to him without use of lips or tongue. For a split second, the changeling wondered if the operative Vothe Kyrik had discovered his secret with his psychic abilities. Clamping down on the thought immediately, Zaran listened to the the Operatives words carefully before taking the datapad from him.

 

"A job. Good to know I wasn't lied to."

 

Zarans gravely voice carried slightly through the halls as he scanned the datapad. It definitly seemed like a two man job. The details were still a bit fuzzy on the datapad, but he figured either the assigning Vigo or the Operative in front of him was hiding details to keep a newcomer like himself from stealing the job for himself, and cutting the syndicate out of what seemed to be a substantial amount of credits.

 

"Job seems legit. I'm in. Though I do notice some details are missing. Would that datapad be the extent of our knowledge, or have some items been ommitted for the time being?"

[Vothe Kyrik]

Vothe allowed a crafty smile, which could be seen despite his raised hood and shadowed face. "I have the details we need to get started," he said, this time actually forming the words and employing his vocal chords. His voice was surprisingly strong and melodic for a man who seemed so ethereal in his self-presentation. An intuitive man would recognize it as the voice of an accomplished actor, able to be molded to give a stirring speech or a timid greeting with equal ease. "More precise details of the estate and the security network we shall face can only be determined through investigation, for it remains far from the public eye."

 

Now that he was close, he could smell the soup of this man Desh. It was very strong compared to the mindless flocks of civilians that wandered the streets of any industrialized world. It was the soup of a man who had struggled in a life or death situation against other men and overcome them. And yet, after smelling the luck of Jedi, Sith, and Vladimir Faust over the last several months, Vothe wondered if he would ever be able to satisfy himself with less. Deep within his soul he craved to feed again on Sith, and it was disappointing to him that this particular job would be unlikely to present him with such a worthy target.

 

Not that it wouldn't be a challenge worth his talents on its own merit. This place would be harder to crack than perhaps any place he'd gotten into before.

 

He gestured for Zaran to follow him and headed back toward his office. It wasn't time to leave just yet, and he had yet to be entirely convinced that this Chiss was the right man for the job. Too many weapons, hinting at a style too overt to do anything but get them both killed. "What talents do you have in infiltration, Mr. Desh? I don't believe even someone as well-armed as yourself could simply shoot their way into such a location. How do you suppose you would go about this mission on your own?"

 

They arrived at his office a moment later and he seated himself behind his desk.

[Zaran Desh]

Raising his crimson eyes from the datapad in a look of irritation, Zaran realized exactly what was going on here. He was being tested, interviewed in a way that only Bounty Hunters, Assassins, and Smugglers of true skilled would recognize. Deciding to take a grander look at the datapad, he hooked the connector cable to his gauntlet and extended his right arm, allowing the Holoprojector in the guantlet to fire up. Within second, a scale holoprojection of the fortress filled the office. The gyroscope within the guantlet would allow Zaran to walk around examing each area with disturbing the view he had chosen. After examing the outer ring of the projection for several moments he bega his assessment.

 

"A frontal assault...." Giving slight pause. "...would be a death trap for a lone gunman. Sith, it would suicide for a small team to plan any kind of pure assault."

 

Gesturing to the outer edges, the disguised Clawdite continued.

 

"While it would seem that the patrolling soldiers, the security droids, the very estate itself are the only hazards, someone making such an assessment would be wrong. Notice the strategically parked CORSEC speeders. While the quality of this footage can't prove they are legitimate law enforcement vehicles, basing our lives on any less of a judgement would be plain stupid. Thus it can stand to be reasoned that at least a few members of CORSEC and local law enforcement are on this Rhetts payroll. And while I can only count just under a dozen guards patrolling, there are highly likely more within the complex, and if it were my fortress estate, I would station soldiers in these buildings outside the estate. That would quickly throw any assault into dissarray."

 

"So, in response to your test, Operative Vothe, while I hate to admit that my more than considerable skills in combat will be necessary at some point, they will not be the primary factor here."

 

Moving to the center of the holoprojection, which caused the light to play off the blue tint of Zarans skin, and the crimson of his eyes, he continued his display.

 

"If it were up to me, I would run a long con. Though this would take considerable time. I would work myself into the defense of the estate. This would be the part that takes awhile. I would either get hired as a soldier to patrol the estate, or if possible, play myself off as a dirty CORSEC officer who would be willing..." Giving a crooked smile."...to go that extra mile to make things easy for Rhett here."

 

Disconnecting his gauntlet from the datapad, Zaran sat the object carefully down and took a seat opposite Vothe. He knew his approach would unlikely be the option chosen, so most of it he was just winging, but it sounded like a decent plan. And however small, it did have a chance to succeed.

 

"Once I am in, and have proven that I am loyal, by perhaps findin several issues in security, or by organizaing some events to make myself seem indispensable, we make our move. But still not a straight assault. Disengage some security measure, allowing you to enter the estate and we quickly make our way to the targets, dispatching any random patrols we find as quiet as possible. Then we make our way out as quickly as possible."

[Vothe Kyrik]

Once Desh had finished, Vothe simply nodded. His instincts had proven correct--this man knew how to get into a fortress. The Anzat found nothing more exquisite than a long con job capped with an exciting kill. It proved utterly empowering to feed poison with a spoon, strike when someone's guard was down, savor the moment when they realized they had been outwitted as he feasted on their brain matter. Some men like Rhett thought that power could be achieved through credits; Vothe found this incredibly short-sighted and wealth to be transient. He wondered what Black Sun would do if they found out he didn't care for his wages at all, so glorious he found the hunt to be.

 

"You are perhaps the worst Chiss I've ever heard of," he mused aloud, "but perfect for a job like this. That would indeed be an excellent way to go about this on your own, but we have an advantage: there are two of us. The concept of a two-man con is as old as the Anzati. I dare not finalize any plans until we've at least had a good look around on Corellia, but our plot will be both more fail-proof and more effecient than any single-man infiltration."

 

Kyrik, who appeared human to all but the most trained eye, stood up from behind his desk, even getting to his feet making no discernable noise. He studied Desh for another moment, probing him mentally, beginning to wonder how much more there was to this man than there appeared to be. Chiss did not bounty hunt and they certainly didn't infiltrate. They stuck out like sore thumbs in these parts of the galaxy, and their glowing red eyes didn't interact well with disguises. And there, on some level below the surface, he felt something that was mirrored in his own psyche--a subconscious separation from self, the hallmark of a being who had stepped into so many personas that on some level he had forgotten which one of them he was supposed to be when he was in fact posing as none.

 

Vothe loved a mystery as much as he loved a good con. "I'll meet you on Corellia in sixteen hours," he said. "The datapad has Black Sun encryption protocols, which we can use to meet up again then. We are not to arrive together. I'm going to go to an adjacent city and use public transport to get near the estate."

 

He sized up Desh again. "When I exit hyperspace, I'll transmit you the coordinates of the estate. Is there anything else?"

[Zaran Desh]

Zaran narrowed his bright red eyes as Vothe flung a masked insult towards him. He knew his Chiss impression had never been the most accurate, but most beings across the galaxy were unfamiliar with the enigmatic Chiss. The only knowledge of the Chiss species most people were familiar with were the blue skin, red eyes, and jet black hair. Zaran had been fortunate to spend enough time with several Chiss to accurately recreate their images. Zaran had even been able to recreate their vocal patterns. But their mannerisms were always a challenge.

 

At the mention of the Anzati, Zarans mind began to wander. The Anzati were a species even more mysterious and legendary than the Bounty Hunters own Clawdite species. To many the Anzati were a myth, much like the mystical vampire legend of the past. He wondered why the Operative would bring up such a mythical race, unless......

 

"Corellia in sixteen hours, alright. Is there any equipment I should recquisition before I depart? Will I contact you upon arrival in Coronet City?"

[Vothe Kyrik]

The assassin shrugged. "Requisition whatever you think you'll need," he said lightly. "Once you have the coordinates, head there and we can get in touch an hour before we meet up." They would need a non-public location, of course. A two-man con relied on the fact that they could never be seen as working together, and he didn't know how well informed Rhett Galar was. The fewer chances that could be taken the better, as they didn't have the luxury of this being a one-man operation where associations were less likely to come to light. Alternatively, they could appear together in public as long as one was in a different persona than they were when interacting with Mr. Galar.

 

Without another word he disappeared off down the hallway. As for himself, he didn't need to gather additional gear before he left. Since infiltration and assassination were his chief arts, he kept a ship stocked with such tools as he needed, from disguise kits to computer spikes. Before it had been named the Xanadu, but for now he changed the registry and IFF to something generic, the Price of Progress. He spent a few minutes going over his inventory just in case and assembling a few disguises that might be useful. Then he headed up to the cockpit and got his clearance to leave. Moments later, he was en route to Corellia, which wasn't a long jump away.

[Zaran Desh]

Zaran watched as Operative Vothe left the office and made his way to the hangar. When he was sure the Black Sun operative was gone, he let loose his pure hold on his body. The Clawdite felt pressure release from not only his mind, but the rest of his body as well. He could feel the muscles in his jaws wrenching loose and retracting only to reform once more into the solid Chiss jaw. He could feel the bones and muscles forming the strong Chiss frame breaking, solidifying, tearing, stretching, contracting. Although the pain now racing through his body was intense, it was always a welcome release from the tension of holding together a form. Pulling himself together, he reformed himself as a Chiss and left the office.

 

As he reached the hangar where his ship was currently docked, he decided he didn't need to recquisition any items, everything he needed he already possessed. His skills in shapeshifting, his weapons, his own cunning. Boarding his ship, he activated the autopilot. The prerecorded request to exit the hangar and the sector turned on and the ship soon left the hangar, making its way towards Corellia.

[Smash Daisaku]

In the Chamber of the Sun…

 

Gazing across the huge chamber that constituted the nerve center of the Dubrillion installation, Smash Daisaku watched droids shred precious documents while other operatives broke open vaults, to immediately incinerate their contents. Black Sun’s greatest secrets were all destroyed in that instant. Claims to worlds, lists of operatives, cures for cancer, and everything else, were now gone. The Black Sun would effectively cease to exist, or at least come to a grinding and debilitating stop. If Smash could not run the legendary organization, then no one else should have the chance. The Black Sun was his entirely, and would end appropriately, in tandem. Any fool who would dare to extend the criminal organization's legacy would do so without any existing resources whatsoever.

 

“Lord Daisaku, we are proud to die in your service,” uttered a valiant captain, who had made billions of credits by killing police. He immediately discharged a pistol into his forehead, killing himself. Then another did as well. And another. Then, one dozen some agents shot themselves. Then, one hundred more did too. Then, another hundred did as well. For a number of seconds, the individual gunshots sounded like the awe-inspiring finale to a fireworks display. When the noise from the mass suicide finished, the now reddened Chamber of the Sun was filled with nine hundred and seventy eight lifeless criminals. An EMP blast spewed out in a nova of light from one of the droids, disabling them all and ruining computers. Then Smash pressed a button that detonated every last one of them. Everyone of consequence within the Black Sun’s highest echelons was now deceased. No Vigo was alive. Each had gladly given his life to the richest man in history.

 

Finally, Smash Daisaku parked a gold plated pistol between his lips. His stocks had plummeted. His criminal and financial empires were lost. His wife was dead. His supposedly high-quality whores were riddled with sexually transmitted viruses and infections. Intercourse isn’t what it used to be.

 

Now, the smell of blood and smoke was overtaking him. Hell, this galaxy isn’t what it used to be.

 

It was only seconds later when Smash Daisaku finally stood up, chuckling. “Well, this has been real fun, but it's way past all of our bedtimes.”

 

He pulled the trigger and painted the walls with his rich blood.

[DarthBrendo]

Black sat in the cockpit of his ship, watching as it slowly came into orbit around the planet of Dubrillion after an uneventful trip.

 

"Well, Qaela, what now?"

[Qaela]

With what little possessions she still had in hand or slung across her back, Qaela shrugged. "It is up to Ca'Aran," she said with a gesture of her chin toward him. "These are his people, they follow his command." She hoped that she didn't need to add that if he wanted to betray them, this would be the perfect chance to do so. There was no escape from this planet now that they were landed. Black Sun's ships were more than enough to destroy both Black's and Starlisk's ships should they try to take off, and his armies were vast enough to wear them down and capture them, assuming he didn't just level the place with high yield explosives.

[Onderin Starlisk]

Onderin and Ads arrived shortly after the other ship, and the Jedi Master put the ship in orbit while they awaited word from their local Vigo on where to go next.

 

Meanwhile, he remembered the last time he had been here. Back during the war, the Alliance had had a few run-ins with the Black Sun, which had been able to field a small fleet in those days. Following an incident at Haruun Kal, he had come here with several ships intent on removing this very installation. Things hadn't gone exactly as he had expected, the Black Sun calling themselves the "Red Dawn" and claiming to have turned over a new leaf of legitimate business enterprising.

 

For a time, the organization continued that masquerade, and there had been insufficient grounds for the Alliance to wipe this installation off the face of Dubrillion. Of course, ultimately it didn't last long and Black Sun had turned back to their true color -- Black, he supposed, rather than Red.

 

This time he had no fleet and no intent to eradicate this installation, but whether the Black Sun was going to play games remained to be seen.

[Ads-Gop Flif]

Ads was about to disembark when I realized that the ship was still in outer space and that Ads would have died quite horribly. So instead, Ads stayed on the ship. Ads either turned or walked toward Onderin, depending on the configuration of the shuttle. Looking out the forward viewport, he asked, "So are we, um, are we just here to pick up, uh, Qaela's ship and then," he paused to gesticulate his uncertainty, "get out of here or what?

[Delta73]

Lt Andrew Willis sat at the forward observation post in the thick asteroid belt that orbited the ardent planet.The neutral shuttle came flying out of hyperspace right into his sensor arrays and nearly caused him to spill his stimcafe all over the flimsiplast pad he was currently doodling on. He hailed the shuttle with the automatic code which was returned in good order bearing a Vigo level code word. The ship was cleared to land.

 

Delta leaned back from the communications array. "We should be cleared at the main field though we will have armed escorts. Welcome to my home good jedi , please wipe your boots before you walk on the carpeting. It was stolen from the Naboo palace."

 

((If you wish I can also bring back ms Burke at this time Ian))

[Qaela]

Qaela tried to hide a smirk at Ca'Aran's sleight against the Jedi. It really wasn't too diplomatic to be antagonizing them, but now that he was home, perhaps he felt more confident. As long as she stayed near him, they wouldn't be able to take her out with a large explosive. If they came for her directly, at least she would have the satisfaction of knowing she could probably take out several of them before going down herself. She would undoubtedly be defeated, but at least she would make them suffer for it.

 

"Remember, my dear Ca'Aran," she said lightly, "these are supposed to be our allies, even if they are Jedi." She wasn't sure he cared at all about her, but just in case he did, she added, "They are as responsible as anyone for helping bring me back from the brink of insanity."

[Onderin Starlisk]

((I think at some point in all this you should bring her back around; whether that's now is up to you. I think her path has plenty of options going forward once Faust's plot resolves, and how she interacts with the rest of the group in the meantime can help form it.))

 

"And to think I had almost forgotten Black Sun's role in that," Onderin said dryly in response to Delta's statement. He held no illusions about Black Sun, even though they had been paired with the Sith on that particular act of terrorism. Fortunately, CoreSec's investigation into the matter had ultimately brought Ar-Pharazon to justice. Black Sun had yet to pay the price for their crimes there, and now providing Faust with many of the resources he was now using to wage war on the galaxy was another such misdeed to add to the list.

 

They wouldn't be getting their comeuppance today, at any rate, although he wasn't certain why CoreSec hadn't taken action against known installations such as this.

[DarthBrendo]

Black looked out the viewport with a blank expression as the prattle continued in the cockpit as to what was happening next, simply waiting for an idea of what was going to happen. He found the tension between Delta and Qaela almost comical, in that it seemed to be over-exaggerated as if for a a dramatic performance.

[Delta73]

"Oh indeed deary, they are our allies for now, but alliances flip on a dime now adays."

 

The shuttle set down on a auspicious docking bay guarded by heavy AA guns. When the landing ramp dropped with a metallic clank, the party inside could see a full Black Sun honour guard standing at attention. Their scarlet uniforms looking far too gaudy for the occasion, but it brought a smile to Delta's stern face. "Now Mindan, some of these men will recognize you, so at least attempt to be friendly. And Mr. Jedi master, if you want some of the carpet we still have some rolls left if you want. Either way welcome to Dubrillion my friends."

 

__________________________________________________

 

Arleigh Burke sat silently in her seat, wrapped in the crash webbing until they touched down. Unlike the others, she was not exactly used to interstellar travel. It did not terrify her, but it was better to be safe. She stood and walked to the entrance tailing the jedi.

[DarthBrendo]

Black nodded in thanks at the reminder that he was a known quantity here.

 

"I will do my best. If there are records here of my time with the Black Sun, and we have time, I would appreciate the opportunity to review them."

[Qaela]

((I guess we need to just post whenever we can to move this along. Some people may not have something to do and might not post because of it, so we can't wait for people until something more important comes along.))

 

"That they do," muttered Qaela in response to Ca'Aran's comment. She remained firm as his warriors began to form up for escort. She had possibly fought side by side with some of them against her mother's forces, though those same may have also seen her turn on their leader in blind rage. None were friends now and she wouldn't make the mistake of thinking them as such. Even Ca'Aran only at best fell into the category of "neutral" and it pained her to think it. Since encountering him, much of her venom had faded. She doubted that he shared sentiment and didn't much blame him.

 

"I would like to go to my ship," she said. "There are some things there that would prove useful in fighting Faust should we ever catch up to them."

[Delta73]

Delta nodded to Qaela and gestured to the next landing platform which was very heavily guarded. "Your ship awaits you, as for you Jedi..." He turned to the Jedi that were following him, "You will, if you so wish, follow me to the server room to collect whatever it is that you need to find this Faust."

 

He escorted them through the heavily guarded facility, through spotless hallways smattered with irreplaceable stolen art pieces, past rooms filled with slave labor making new smartcomms, and finally to a huge vault-like door. He gestured to the Guard at the door, who with a few rental scans let Delta and his guests pass through.

 

He lowered his voice to a whisper as they entered the huge bank of servers and access points. "I would ask that you take no data from this place except what you carry in your mind. There are traps here that even I know nothing of. You may access whatever you wish." He smiled and stepped back to let the jedi do their work. Glancing at the strange little girl that had followed them here. Maybe a jedi. He opened his mouth to ask her a question, but he could not utter the words. Almost as if the force itself was forbidding him from interacting with her. Strange.

 

He turned to the access panel the Jedi would be using and entered a series of passwords giving them access, but not control over whatever data they needed.

[DarthBrendo]

Black followed Qaela. He had become used to her presence and decided that for the moment, he would continue to follow and work alongside her. He was also curious as to what her ship would look like. As they walked, Black kept his eyes open for anything that looked familiar, and wasn't sure if he hoped he did see something that triggered memories, or if he hoped he didn't see anything.

[Onderin Starlisk]

((Not sure if you were just being snarky, but character interaction is absolutely fine as long as they're not teaming up tactically or you're posting back and forth with yourself.))

 

Onderin followed the Vigo into the well-guarded vault that was apparently some sort of access hub to the Black Sun information infrastructure. "Understood," he said in response to the note about not copying data. The supposed fact that there were security systems unknown to a Vigo regarding simply accessing company data sounded bogus to him, but Delta was probably more concerned about the Jedi Master copying large amounts of criminal secrets and having them as physical evidence if he decided at any point to prosecute Black Sun for their illicit activities.

 

The former fleet admiral did rather wish to do that, but it wasn't what he was here for now. He started running some queries on the name Faust, and it quickly came to light that the infamous mass-murderer did have a history of associating with Black Sun, whether it was running jobs with them, borrowing their agents for his own schemes, or simply coordinated crime activity from time to time.

 

A lot of the timestamps on the data were old, but Onderin soon came across something that seemed much more relevant to their current predicament -- entries on the distribution of a drug called RAGE. It seemed that the Black Sun had been shipping large quantities out to civilized planets all over the galaxy in partnership with Faust. There was a large list of planets where the drug had been exported, many of which were influential and highly populated worlds. He started reading the description of RAGE itself and immediately linked it with Faust's rituals -- it was a Sith poison that suffused those subjected to it with the dark side, intensifying their negative emotions and ultimately destroying them. It had been released on the Senate, and could easily be used to aid the dark side ritual Faust had performed on Dubrillion and Kuat.

 

"Vigo Delta -- Black Sun shipped out a drug called RAGE all over the galaxy. I believe neutralizing this drug may be the key to limting the effectiveness of Faust's attacks," he said. "I ask you for two things that could save many lives: I would like you to recall as many shipments of RAGE as possible, and I would like a copy of the chemical formula to aid planetary governments in isolating and disposing of these shipments themselves."

[Qaela]

Leaving the Jedi to do their Jedi thing by searching archives, Qaela walked eagerly toward her ship. None of the guards stopped her, but then they wouldn't without Ca'Aran's command. True to his previous word, it appeared that nobody had attempted to access it, though it was entirely possible that someone did, but covered their tracks. The Force would tell her if there was intrusion, but she would see to that later.

 

As soon as she gained access to the ship, she quickly sealed it behind her for privacy's sake. It wouldn't stop even just a decent slicer, but it would give her time to react if anyone attempted to break in. She needed time and privacy for what she was about to do. Going to her quarters, she retrieved one of her many boxes of chemicals, talismans, and Force touched objects and began carefully rooting through it. She picked out a small vial consisting of the poison of a Dathomiri rock dragon, a jar of rancor blood, and a greyish-brown powder that was the ashes of a sacrificial boar. She replaced the hand carved wooden box on the shelf where she got it. From another box, this one metal and hermetically sealed, she pulled out a small piece of bandage red with blood. Lastly, she reverently pulled a small stone box from her top dresser drawer. Within the box was a browned finger bone wrapped in homespun wool.

 

She walked to the small lobby and placed all five objects on the table. She retrieved a bowl, two fresh vials and the corks to seal them, and a large mortar and pestle before sitting down in front of them. She added a razor sharp knife from her weapons locker to the entire mixture and was then ready to begin. While Starlisk and Ads were busy studying through Black Sun's archives, she began chanting and conjuring the most ancient, most primitive elements of Nightsister spellcraft as her mother and the other Sisters had taught her. It required all of her effort, all of her skills, and all of her strength to summon the necessary powers for such a ritual.

 

She had to allow the spell to consume her mind in order to bring forth the needed spells and rituals. It was not long before she was completely within a trance, entirely devoted to the spell at hand. No one person could ever remember such a complex spell alone, so her ancestors and Clan Sisters had worked together to each master a single part of it. They then combined their spell into a single ritual with each Sister performing their memorized part and then collecting the sum total into a Force imbued crystal. From then on, Sisters who were strong and daring enough could open their mind to it and "download" the spells subconsciously. From that point on, a less complex but still demanding spell could allow them access to that information and bring forth the spell in its entirety. The resulting spell began to take a life of its own as one part flowed into another, threatening to consume the participant and the minds of any around her if not carefully contained.

 

While it was not on par with the legendary feats of the Jedi and Sith of old, it was the farthest she had ever taken this particular branch of Force usage and the effort began to strain her body. Sweat poured down her forehead and cheeks and her breath raggedly escaped her lips between chanting. Her arms quickly tired from the exertion of all of the gestures and the energy flowing from them into the mortar's bowl. The rancor blood was the first added, but the other ingredients followed at their appointed time. Unsummoned by fire or conventional means, the mixture began to heat up and simmer.

 

The last thing Qaela did was to take the finger bone and knife into each hand. Beginning to utter the last cycle of the spell, she carefully shaved the tiniest amount of powder from the bone directly into the mixture on the table. After that, she placed the bone back into its woolen wrapping and returned both into the stone box that had held it. The knife, on the other hand, was not finished. She took the bloodied bandage and used the Force to draw out the particles of blood that had dried on it. The cells may have been long dead, but they would still work for her purpose. With the small particles of blood floating in the air in front of her, she took the knife and slit her left wrist adding a fine mist live, fresh blood into the swirling mass. The blood--both living and dead--became a cloud hovering just below the ceiling gathering ambient moisture and soaking up the Force created energy flowing from her.

 

The next step the spell drove her to perform was to draw out a small amount of liquid from the mortar with the Force and direct it into each of the two vials she had brought at the start. Only a few hundred more lines of spellcraft after that and the spell was complete. The small cloud of blood was swirling furiously in a micro storm that was crackling with barely contained energy. In the final climax of the spell, Qaela gasped and released that energy and a two bolts of brilliantly vibrant red lightning erupted from the blood cloud. Each bolt of energy struck into one of the two vials, combining with the Force to change them according to the requirements of the spell. With all of its energy gone, the blood mist fell on top of Qaela and the table coating everything in red.

 

The spell done, Qaela panted for air while struggling not to pass out. Performing these types of spells always drained her despite the power she attained from Ar-Pharazon, but this was something else. The magnitude of this spell was far beyond any of its type she had ever attempted, much less achieved. She may have wielded more raw power and strength when fighting on the fields of Dathomir against her mother's forces, but the subtle power of this sort of spellcraft was something else altogether.

 

Wiping the fine layer of blood from her eyes, nose, and mouth, Qaela considered what her labor had resulted in. Two vials sat before her. One vial was a deep red, full of passion and vitality bordering on hunger. The other vial was a vibrant blue, its color and strength too powerful to be tainted by the minute amount of blood that had fallen within it. Carefully, she placed a cork over both and made sure they were tightly sealed. She waited there for quite some time regaining her strength and mental energy. When she was able, she got up and disposed of the remnants of the ingredients. Cleaning the fine mist of blood took a little more time and frustrated her to the point that she resorted to using the Force to lift up the blood particles and move them into the sink for disposal.

 

When she was done, she unsealed her ship and went to her room to rest. The magnitude of her spell was likely to have drawn attention from any Force user nearby who was aware of his surroundings and not entirely engrossed in their work. If one of them wished to approach her, she would talk to them, but for the moment, she needed to rest a little before leaving her ship.

 

((Any Force sensitive in the area could detect what Qaela was doing and get a sense that she was drawing a lot of power. Her spell, while Nightsister, wasn't exactly super evil dark side, but neither was it really wholesome light side. During the spell, any Force user who approached would get a definite "don't f**k with this" vibe. I figure that this took place during the time it took Starlisk to search through data. Anyone who wants to approach her now may do so and will find her in her room sitting in a comfortable leather chair. She will also answer comms.))

[DarthBrendo]

Black followed Qaela silently, realising from her body language that she was not in the mood for conversation. As they walked through the Black Sun compound, Black kept his eyes open for anything that might bring back memories, but to no avail. As they finally approached Qaela's ship, Black decided to just wait outside and leave Qaela to her privacy.

 

Actually, I think I'll go and do some research he thought to himself.

 

He asked the hangar bay guards for directions to the archives, and made his way there, before immersing himself in reading about, well, himself.