Rising Sun

[Zerul Moj]

Spoiler: Members Tags

@Breeso @SirNoodles @Captain Hook @Enzo @e_black162_2 @EmilyHuene @jamessour @The New Guy @Andrewska

Zygerria, the pinnacle of the cruelest trade in the Galaxy, the flesh trade, the bartering of servitude, the sale of freedom for a handful of Credits. Presiding over it stood many 'Houses', vast entities that wielded influence in the same measure as they could ply the lash and chain to keep the people they claimed under their domination. Here, in the City of the House of the Black Sun, the armored menaces of the Slavers could easily claim the title of 'Master', holding the yoke of servitude over all who dwelt within its demesne.

Today, the Black Sun and his Vigos had come to visit the City, and all would know of it, for through the main avenue of the City stomped the armored and clearly distinguishable men and women of the Black Suns personal Guard, the City itself in total silence as the Vigos walked in their midst, adorned in their robes, marking them out as the Leaders of the Criminal Syndicate known, and feared, as 'Black Sun'. They would process through the town, into the Palace at the heart of the town, for an afternoon of entertainment provided by their Slaves, rumors had been abound that the Black Sun himself may even participate.

Carried aloft on a chair fashioned into the shape of the emblem of the Syndicate, the Black Sun sat, ignoring the crowds around him as they bowed their heads, fearful of catching his gaze. Slowly, the procession continued into the Palace, Prince Zerul, remaining stoically silent until the Sydicate would finally be alone within thd confines of the Palace.

OOC - This is a death disabled thread, with PvP disallowed.

 

[Lars Warren]

Life was terrible for Lars Warren the past few weeks... no, months even. Since he became the Director of the Exchange. He decided to take things in his direction, but he did not expect it to be so hard. In the course of few months the Exchange collapsed into a civil war under his sight. And in the course of a few weeks, that civil war destroyed the one vast criminal empire, leaving it shattered and meaningless, only a name that was not to be remembered. Almost none of the Bosses survived, and those that did went into hiding, just as Lars. Then again, Lars' idea of hiding was working in his bar until the heat cooled off.

And so, Lars was very surprised when he got an encrypted message from an organization known as the Black Sun Syndicate. He heard about them before, but not too much. Just a bunch of lesser criminal gangs trying to seize up the Exchange's territory. What surprised him more is that they rose to power, as he thought that they wouldn't last to see the Exchange's demise. And what surprised him the most was that they offered him an unique... position. Role of a Vigo. Apparently, the old one died a while back, and the leadership had decided that a man with knowledge of urban areas could replace him, a man that allegedly killed one of the most powerful Senators. A man like the nerf-herder Lars.

And as Lars now walked among the others in his Vigo robes, he felt very uncomfortable. He thought that these robes looked rather silly on him. He ordered a hood to be tailored for himself, so his face could be easily hidden under it. His time as the Director taught him at least one thing, and that was avoiding publicity. Yes, it is good to inform one's subject that the men with power are there, but in Lars' opinion, the more mysterious those men seem, the better.

 

[SirNoodles]

Rafter Teshk walks with the other so-called "Vigos" of the Black Sun. The Black Sun is the faction Rafter had joined after the end of the Exchange. A civil war broke out within the old criminal empire itself and fortunately, unlike others, in the last days of the Exchange Rafter managed to survive. Just like the Director of the Exchange, Rafter took the path of "The Black Sun Syndicate" where Rafter was offered the rank of Vigo.
He reckons he's not the only one but Rafter finds the Vigo robes rather uncomfortable. However, Rafter has decided just to deal with it. Does it really matter if some robes just aren't too comfortable? Rafter has been through enough in his life to learn that the answer simply is just a no. But he is getting quite annoyed at how boring it is just being in a procession. All he is doing is walking with a bunch of other people he barely knows. But this is the only place Rafter thinks to go. He hasn't enough money to go anywhere else and he certainly isn't welcome back on his homeworld of Caamas.

 

[The Captain]

In all honesty, Cral was rather disappointed with Zygerria. Thousands of years of taking and trading slaves, and they still seemed to have no idea what they were doing. They were whipping heavy labor slaves unrestrained, risking damaging their limbs, they had children on chain gangs with Talz, clearly unable to keep up. And two blocks back a slaver had hauled back and slugged a Twi'Lek woman in the face, 500 credits off her resale value, right there. It was like this entire planet was set to amateur hour or something, engaging in the same pointless, petty thuggish behavior that he shot underlings over. The only point of credit he could give these overgrown Tooka was that they knew to get out of the way when their betters finally arrived.

His annoyance extended beyond the populace as well, to the blistering heat of the planet itself. Being aquatic in nature, the dry, scorching air was almost literally killing him. His Nautolan attendant Shaya was suffering as well, which was why they were both hidden under heavy, water retaining cloaks. And as the final annoyance, their leader Zerul had decided to ride into town on a palanquin of all things, making the trip even slower.

"Shaya, if I die of heat stroke, make sure these damn felines don't try to eat me."

"Yes, master."

 

[Andrewza]

Jason was some what shocked that the black sun a rather dangerous group of slavers had contacted him. To hire him. Jason was not a fan of slavery but hey money was money. He was all so shocked that he was hired as a operative then invited to a lavish party in the black suns honour. Jason felt pity for the locals but they where cowards they could of banned together and set a trap but no the weak mind locals coward in fear. So instead Jason adjusted his suit and went to join the rest .

 

[EmilyHuene]

Today was the day! After waiting a week to find out who the Black Sun really was, Bellatrix would finally get to meet this mysterious faction. Under a Quarren by the name of Cral Logov (@Captain Hook ), she had been hired as an Overseer to a slave operation. She was to be the hired muscle, so to speak, and be the enforcer of all the slaves being brought in, held in captivity, and then transferred to be sold. It would be no easy job, but the wild, hot-headed teen would handle it. She had even made herself a brand new outfit for the occasion, which suited her job description a little too well. She was wearing a black long-sleeve leather top which had a frilly collar around the neckline and then a corset tied around her waist which laced in the back and the front as well. The top would then billow out from under the corset in a short, yet flowy skirt with red trimmings. Likewise, she would also have attached a red cape around her shoulders to match the flow of the skirt by her legs. Then, after tall boots that laced up on the sides, she wore more leather leggings which looked like she'd painted them on.

The woman looked much like a dominatrix. Which of course was all tied together by the fact she had a Zygerrian shock whip coiled up in a satchel around her utility belt. The belt, which rested gently on the bottom line of the corset, held a small assortment of pouches, but also a few weapons. First, the whip she'd stolen from the slaver just a week ago. Second, five supernova grenades lined neatly against the belt next to two concussive grenades. On her left hip, just after the grenades, was a single grip lightsaber which resembled Sith technology. Lastly, Bellatrix carried her cruel, red, longsword: Saika on her back. With her short pixie-cut black hair, red bangs, blood red-tipped fingernails, the 17 year old teen looked like a demon warrior. Although it was her sister who had been given the nickname The Vampiric Princess, it was Bellatrix who sported the look much more accurately.

Beside her, she brought with her a loyal son from her clan: Bastion Ra'Kul. He was three years older than Bellatrix, so obviously he wasn't actually her son. She was the mother of their group, a title given to their strongest warrior. Technically Father was the strongest, but gender equality wasn't really a thing in the Nohgri clan to which they stole power from. Normally, Bellatrix had taken to bringing her apprentice with her. But Bellatrix didn't quite feel the redhead was capable of protecting her in such an open environment. Not like Bastion could. The twenty-year old, white haired boy had been an assassin for as long as he could remember. Bellatrix had gotten her hands on him after inheriting the clan from her sister, who disappeared in the middle of the night without a trace. So, she was now their Mother, and the Ra'Kul clan was her to do her bidding. For now, that meant joining the Black Sun.

"Isn't this wonderful, Filius? << Son >>" Bellatrix would ask as the two of her walked down the streets much like a parade.

"I don't know what you mean, Matar? << Mother >>" the older one would reply as his eyes shifted back and forth throughout the crowd of potential threats.

"All of this! This group! These people! They fear us. Isn't it wonderful?!"

"It's too much attention for my taste, Matar," he would say not really caring for being out in the open. He liked to stick to the shadows, a place where he could kill his prey without ever being seen.

Bellatrix would giggle and then turn around to see her friend/boss/mentor/whatever he was to her, who seemed to be struggling with the heat. Although her own black attire was begging to pay a toll on her, she didn't seem to pay it any mind. "You keeping up back there, Squid-Beard?"

​

 

[Zerul Moj]

It took an almost agonizingly long time for the doors to the Zygerrian Slavers Palace to seal shut behind them, and even longer for the assembled guests to take their seats in what was no doubt one of the most secure rooms in the system, let alone the planet. Zerul smiled as he cast his gaze around the hall, his vantage point clear and apparent courtesy of his elevated seat, to reflect his elevated station. For nearly five years he had run the Black Sun, and today would be a testament to him, to his glory.

Ignoring the Droid as it placed his drink in his hand and pattered off out of the room, Zerul took a swig and rose to his feet, to welcome the guests. ''Honored Vigos, loyal subjects of the Black Sun, welcome to Zygerria!'' he roared, bringing the assembled crowd to a stunned silence. Taking another swig of his drink he continued ''We have done well these past months, absorbing our allies from the Exchange....'' he gestured to some of his Vigos ''...and moving from success to greathe...to greater suche...success.'' he paused, slurring his words slightly as he did so.

In the crowd, many assumed it to be the side effects of to much wine, perhaps a side effect of a tad to much Spice. Zerul himself, was equally confused. ''And now we conjarl....contin...'' he felt himself coughing, the agonizing knot of pain in his stomach travelling as blood poured into his lungs as he coughed, for all to see. ''Assassin!'' he garbled indecipherable, as he slumped across the table. The silence in the room continued, as all waited to see who would act.

DM Note - The Droid is long gone, and the current identity of the Assassin is unknown. I shall post from now as the NPC's when needed, to DM the situation.​

 

[Lars Warren]

As one of the Vigos, Lars had a seat next to the Prince, along with the rest of the Vigos. However, it was Prince on whom all the attention was concentrated, and Lars liked it that way. Looking around, he noticed one of his Exchange fellows, Rafter Teshk. Lars nodded at him slightly before returning his attention to Prince Zerul Moj. It was unknown to him whether Rafter stayed with the Loyalists, or joined the Insurgency - in fact, Lars could not care less. Both of those groups failed and all members now sought to start anew.

Listening to the Prince, Lars could certainly understand how he became a leader of such a strong criminal empire. Like Lars, Zerul had a way with words, but unlike Lars, his way of talking could inspire masses. Thus was Lars' surprise much bigger when the man started stuttering. Lars put down the glass he intended to drink just now, and sighed, closing his eyes for a second, knowing what had happened before the Prince exclaimed the word 'Assassin'. Someone sends him his regards, the Exchange style. In criminal terminology, they call this maneuver "Zing". Lars' first suspicion were the fellow Vigos, of course, but exclaiming something right away would be foolish. And so, Lars remained seated, staring at Prince's body. I am not going to take over the Syndicate, he thought. One failed leadership was enough.

 

[Enzo]

It had been sometime since Jack Endel had returned to some ounce of civilisation since he took on the life of a privateer on the outer rim, lured back by a cryptic invitation by a mysterious criminal organization known as the Black Sun, a name he had heard only in hushed whispers in the criminal underworld. An emerging power looking to carve out its own piece of the galaxy. He has often pondered won his role in the galaxy since leaving the Jedi Order. He become content with travelling around the seedier worlds in the outer rim and taking up whatever work he could fine whether it be smuggling or loan sharking it didn't matter to him.

He made sure to blend in well with the crowd, waiting for some time before the prince and his Vigo's emerged from the palace to make their address to masses that had gathered from all parts of the galaxy. his eye was immediately by the vigo's standing around the prince in robes embellished with the insignia of the syndicate, all seemed to be going well until the prince dropped dead

(sorry short rubbish post )

 

[EmilyHuene]

A poisoned drink. Wow! Bellatrix felt like she was in some fabled story. How exciting. Her eyes looked around the room hoping the culprit would stand and claim his rightful place as the new leader of the Black Sun. She waited....and waited. No one? Everyone was just as confused as her? Well....hopefully a little more confused. While Bellatrix had only been a part of this group for a few weeks, she had never met their esteemed leader nor had she had any real reason to be loyal to them. She was here to make some profit off the slave trade and in doing so with her boss, Cral, she could have a lot of fun doing so while she was at it. So.....now what.

Bellatrix would look at her drink and scoot it anyway from her. She highly doubted some random assassin would take out a random peon in the group, but it didn't hurt to be safe. She would then make a mental note to make sure never to take a drink from someone ever again. Life was too precious to be snuffed out by a simple beverage. What a sad way to go out. No fight to the death, no glory of battle. Just a foolish taste on the tongue and a long drop to the floor.

"Is anyone could to talk about what just happened?" the teen would speak out over the silence. "Our leader just kicked the bucket."

Standing behind her, Bellatrix's current bodyguard would be searching out the room for whomever had spiked the man's drink. While he'd never done something as simple as that, he knew what it was like to take out a politician of sorts. He had killed many men by his knives, and he would kill many more. That being said, there was always a certain look in a person's eyes, a killer's eyes. Bastian had it. The other killer in the room would have them too. If someone was behind this, Bastian could figure it out.

 

[Andrewza]

Jason leaned back and brought the glass to his mouth before putting back down. Instead bring out a large cigar lighting it and drawing in a breath "Leader, this is the first time many of us meat the man and really his death is not a problem. A new man will sit on the throne and live will go on."


Jason suspected the assassin never entered the room. The no dead prince was handed a drink by a droid and could of been poised at any time. No there was no point in panicking instead he sat back and waited for what he did not know but still he waited.

 

[The Captain]

It was like this entire event had been orchestrated to make Cral feel uncomfortable. Between his Overseer's obnoxious outburst, the blistering heat, the dry air, and how painfully slow the entire procession was moving, the Quarren began to suspect that someone in the organization was trying to send him a message. And that message was 'Kriff you'. He didn't even bother to pay attention to the no-doubt self-indulgent prattle the lizard at the head of the table was undoubtedly going to burst into, instead eyeing the provided drinks with a desperate thirst. He rarely, if ever, drank, but he was willing to make an exception in these extreme circumstances.

He had almost brought the cup up to his maw when the hand of Shaya came over it, stopping him. Any normal master might have made a break for the shock whip and beat her within an inch of her life, but Cral had enough trust in the Nautolan to deduce that she was trying to save him, not pester him. Following her locked stare to the head of the table, he was just in time to watch the prince cry out and collapse onto the table, dead, spilling his wine onto the floor. The instant Zerul was down, Cral stood up from the table with Shaya stepping in front of him, hand on her blaster, surveying the room.

To his surprise, no one stepped forward to take credit for the assassination, nor did any third party emerge from the shadows to reveal their hand in this attack. His train of thought was once again interrupted by Ra'Kul, whose political naiveté was shining through. He would have spoken up to silence her, but an equally apathetic gentleman across the table beat him to it, there was no reason to care about Zerul. There was, however, reason to care about a potential assassin in their midst. Putting a hand on Shaya's shoulder, she slowly relaxed and moved back into position behind him, although her eyes were still darting intently about the room.

"I'd hate to point out the obvious, but did anyone catch the person who delivered the drink? Or where they came from?"

 

[EmilyHuene]

"Leader, this is the first time many of us meat the man and really his death is not a problem. A new man will sit on the throne and live will go on."

"I'd hate to point out the obvious, but did anyone catch the person who delivered the drink? Or where they came from?"

Bellatrix was about to respond to the first comment with something along the lines of, "Well I'll sit up there if no one else will," but was interrupted by her boss highlighting a much more important task. She would look around the room wondering if any of them saw the culprit, but it seemed they were just as clueless as she. Bellatrix looked to her trusty assassin at her side and gestured for him to come closer. She would whisper in his ear, "Please tell me you saw it?"

Just as silently, "Sorry, Matar. It must have alluded me. I can assure you it wasn't someone in this room. None of them have left my sight. Whomever it was, they must have been in and out."

"Very good," she would compliment his skill, "Let's keep this to ourselves."

"As you wish, Matar." Bastion would bow his head and step back away from her and go back to looking impassively at the rest of the crowd. Though they were amoung friends, a band of criminals were still criminals.