The New Black Sun

[Black Noise]

The OOC

"This is the motto of the Black Sun. We do what we want, when we want, and there won't be anybody to say otherwise. Get ready my friends, the Black Sun are coming back."​

Nar Shaddaa


Standing upon the guardrail attached to a balcony of one of the many, many balconies that Nar Shaddaa had to offer in their city of skyscrapers, Causarius took a deep breath of the polluted air with her mask off. A torrent of laughing and violent coughing followed and, just when it seemed as if she might fall, the Sithspawn replaced her mask, stepping down as she did.

Turning around, she viewed the seven men and women behind her, her eyes squinted from the smile underneath her mask. These seven were her elite, hardened criminals, each worth more than ten mercenaries from the Cartel in Causarius's personal opinion. Holding up an arm, she questioned them.
"Look at the galaxy, what do you see? Do you see a fruit, ripe for the picking? Do you see a tree, old and dying? I see a powder keg, a powder keg just begging to be set off. Shall we lite the fuse?"


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Three men stood outside of the compound, the last stronghold of the old Black Sun on Nar Shaddaa. Outside, the compound looked no different than it normally did. Three thugs at the door, a sniper on the roof, and two mercenaries smoking Death Sticks on a balcony. Yet Causarius knew better. Her handpicked following, she stepped boldly forward and towards the entrance.

No guns were raised, no alarms sounded. As she approached, the thugs saluted in the best way they could muster, which ended up looking foolish nonetheless. These men had heard of the call to arms, they had seen the head of Fer'ate on the holonet. They were afraid. They feared the men and women behind Causarius, they feared the weapons they carried and the air they held, and they feared for their own lives more than anything in the entire galaxy. Even a stupid beast could understand when it was time to switch sides.

Causarius did not stop till she entered the compound, the men outside not giving her or her posse a second glance. Inside, a group of nearly thirty men sat and stood around in the lobby, as if they were waiting for her. Immediately, they stood in her presence. However, Causarius did not stop till she came in front of the one mercenary with the most commanding air about him. Then, she waited for him to speak, not bothering to look at him.
"Old man Smi is inside, he and his band of thirteen loyalists have barricaded themselves inside the safe room. We've captured the weapons vault, but we're sure he has a few of the weapons in there with him. It's a pleasure to be serving you now, Boss."

Causarius took a cruel look in her eye as she turned, her voice rasped as she replied.
"Kurios, call me Kurios."
Without twitching, Causarius reached out with one of her strong arms and grasped the man's neck. With one arm, she ripped the man off his feet and to the floor, smashing his head in and spraying blood everywhere. Laughing, she added.
"And you'll find that betrayal is not looked upon kindly in my Syndicate now. Betray me, and you'll all find yourselves like this man."

From that point on, she spoke not a word till she arrived at the door to the safe room. The Safe room, really just the old boss Fer'ate's office refortified to give the man a chance at life for months if he could make it inside under a worst case scenario, which was currently occurring. However, the massive Durasteel door could be opened from the outside with an eighteen digit code, a code Causarius had conveniently retrieved before beginning their operation.

Stepping aside, she looked over her posse and took off her mask, showing her horrid face plastered with a horrid grin. Reaching out to the panel, she spoke.
"Get ready to breach."

Inside, 13 men had hidden themselves behind overturned tables, large chairs, and anything else they could set up for cover. But it would not be sufficient. Causarius was confident in her handpicked seven, the men inside would fall in the first volley.

 

[Batty]

This planet was gross. Jinzo had spend nearly his entire life on Tatooine, and this planet while still maintaining its wonderful "Charm" of a system in Hutt Space- was as expendable and undesirable as that bihelio cesspool that is Tatooine. The men and women surrounding him were interesting, and seemed to have come from all walks of life and all different forms of self preservation. The woman who called herself Kurios was the ring leader in this operation, and this was a situation that was oddly enticing to Jin. He had been approached by the woman a few months ago to do a job for her. She ventured out to the dust ball seeking a hired gun to handle the acquisition of a certain access code. She found her way to Tatooine and from there, met Jinzo by happenstance (or at least Jinzo assumes...) in a cantina in Mos Entha playing a 'less than even' game of sabaac for credits. After the deal was ironed out, Jinzo escorted Kurios into the Nar Shadaa system, and after some very "careful" interrogations managed to muscle the access code from a willing participant, and with a few very hefty credit chips, ensured the rest of the guards will look the other way upon the teams arrival.

That was 4 days ago. In that time, Jinzo had spent the time in near exile organizing his mouse droids and going over the lay out of the bunker, ensuring the group wouldn't take any wrong turns or stubble upon any unwanted circumstances. After careful deliberation, Jinzo left his Verpine Shatter Rifle behind in the ship, and would bring 2 Grey smoke droids, 1 White flash droid, and 2 Red explosive droids. This gave Jinzo ample means to give his team the cover and opportunity needed to get the jump on any and all adversaries that will be present. The lay out was complex, but by no means intricate. The route was calculated and established, It would take approximately seventeen moving minutes to reach the stronghold where the boss man will be stashed. The day had come, and Jinzo had left his ship and met with Kurios once more, and now meet the other members of his team.

She was taking her time, and as the lacky had approached, a coy grin stretched across Kurios' face. He knew that grin. This man wasn't long in this world. He spoke and instructed that Smi and his thirteen loyalists were bunkered inside the building. Thirteen. Thirteen loyalists. The mainframe datalogs had mentioned 25 mercenaries on Smi's payroll. 13 men inside, a sniper, 3 guards, and 2 hap-hazard merc. That totals 19 individuals- 20 counting Smi. That's at least 5 men that are unaccounted for, not to mention any more that may not be on the logs.

He's lying.

Kurios knew it, and Jinzo was no fool. He pursed his lips as Kurios took the mans life and left his corpse at the door step. She addressed the matter, and didn't bother turning around before approaching the door. He spoke for the first time on this day:

"You are wise my dear. The man is a traitor. Allow me to prime our entrance."

With that utterance Jinzo motioned his fingers, and one of the two Grey smoke droids in front of him began blinking softly and placed itself within a foots length of the breach door. Unholstering his blaster and holding his Gaffii stick on his left hand, the droid knew what to do, and he left it in Kurios hands to give the signal to engage.

 

[Noirceur]

Twelve years ago​

Haszhan smiled, looking at the stars. He could almost feel them. He imagined the vastness of the Galaxy beyond his desolate, barren homeworld. He viewed himself as a tiny speck of dust, diminutive. He imagined a statue made of rock. He imagined being a particle of one of the rocks. Nevertheless, he knew that the rock would not stand without that minimal grain of dust, and without that rock, the statue would fall. He smiled. He knew one day, he would be that rock.

Gathering his lance and bow, he quickly got to his feet and ran down the lenght of the hill, spotting his prey on the other side of the river. He grazed through the brush, leaves and sticks moving and cracking as he paced forward, becoming a part of the environment. Putting feet near the enormous animal, he made a small cut on the side of his hand with a knife, and slapped some of the dripping blood on the tip of his spear. Pulling his arm back, he grabbed the spear by the middle, and arched his arm. With his other hand, he tried to line up the throw, holding his breath. In one convulsive effort, he propelled the lance, throwing it at an amazing speed. The animal fell to the ground, where Haszhan aprroached it's carcass, knife in hand, ready to skin it.

.......................​

With the thick pelt hanging from his back, he walked through the stepary plains, cleaning his spear as he did. He once more looked at the stars, and wondered if anyone else in the Galaxy would be doing so. Maybe he would one day stare back, and realize where his destiny had taken him. He holds his lance, raising it to the skies with his arm.

"For the legacy of my ancestors, and the blood of my father, I swear I will one day rise. And all of the Galaxy will whisper my name in fear!"

Present day​

He snapped out of his memories. He would like to forget, but he knew he wouldn't. Ever. Thinking of his past was a way of building his future. He smiled as he had done twelve years ago, thinking. Perhaps those who know not of the future are better of without it. But what if the future is just a path that leads to nowhere? All he can do is walk that path, one step at a time. Maybe then he could find a purpose.

Ridding the thoughts from his mind, he instead thought of his current situation. He had belonged to The Black Sun for nearly 7 years, and he had been one of it's most respected members. But there was something about this woman, this... Kurios. She was strong, both in determination and will. She wanted the Syndicate to be waht it was meant to be, not a mere nuisance to the Hutts, as Fer'ate had turned it into. He was actually surprised this Causarius had chosen him to join her seven handpicked mercenaries and bounty hunters. If she was cleansing the old Syndicate, why not cleanse him as well? He did not know, nor would he ask. Following the group of men and women, he soon found himself at the entrance of the door. Taking out his rifle, he stood on the side of it, ready to pop in and fire at the idiots inside. Idiots. That was the only word that could describe those men. He had every confidence that he and his comrades would triumph, and that The Black Sun would be born anew.

No, he didn't have confidence. He knew it...

 

[Minuteman75]

Oh this is gonna to be fun. I can hardy wait. Tamara thought while witnessing to the boss's...no the Kurios' handiwork in dealing with the leading turncoat whose blood now spilled all over the floor. It was a vicious and brutal act, the first of many Farren hoped to be part of. Recently, the Zabark savage met Haszhan, here on Nar Shaddaa who in turn brought her to meet the Causarius, the leader of this criminal coup. Tamara had to admit, she was thoroughly impressed with how completely psycho Sithspawn had proven to be and decided to join her cause just for the 'fun'.

Of course, her new employer wouldn't just accept anyone, Causarius had Tamara prove herself against another would-be recruit in single combat. It was some Weequay hotshot who thought his warrior skills would grant him victory. Tamara smirked her black lips, remembering the Weequay's pathetic screams following his crushing defeat when she proceeded to slowly sawed off his head a large bunt knife, laughing all the way. When done, she had toss the head at Causarius' feet as proof of her own worth to the New Black Sun. As a result, the murderous woman now found herself among the chosen seven of Causarius, all set on destroying the remaining opposition within the Black Sun.

Wearing her taskmaster combat armor and armed with a carbine Tamara waited beside Haszhan and watched Causarius remove her mask and told the group to be ready to breach. The Sithspawn's disturbing smile reminded Tamara that Causarius is a living spirit of anarchy and murder as she was herself. Quickly another member, named Jinzo volunteer one of his droids to prime their entrance into the safe room. Inside the defiant thirteen holdouts had themselves fortified awaiting their final fate. Farren snickered to herself with her yellow eyes beaming with delight, imagining the slaughter that is about to commence to which she openly remarked;

"Those has-beens are already dead. They're just in denial, time to correct that. Heh heh!"

 

[Aluminum Falcon]

One Day Ago​

“Nar Shadaa! How I missed this slug managed, disgusting place!”, shouted Alex, his hands held out to his sides.

Even the pollution filled rain that fell around him in the middle of the street could do nothing to bring him down, nor could the many lowlifes and career criminals that gave him suspicious glances as he shouted. A few of them closely examined his attire, and he could tell by reactions if any of them had ever done any serious time.

He wore a one piece orange jumpsuit, the same jumpsuit he had worn the past 5 years as an inmate on Kessel. The upper half of the jumpsuit was pulled down and tied around his waist, leaving his well-toned, tattoo laden upper body bare to the cold rain. The ink had many meanings, his Black Sun ties, the people he killed, tributes to his dead sister. In his jumpsuit pocket was a holdout blaster pistol, but only he knew that. A pair of binder cuffs were tucked into his waistline, one side of the restraints dangling visibly. Gathering himself, Alex glanced across the rain filled street at the exterior of a cantina. A long canopy covered an outdoor bar well several patrons sat, enjoying themselves. One of the patrons had been eyeing him after he shouted, and when the man turned around, he knew why. On the man’s upper right shoulder was a tattoo with a lesser known alias of the Zann Consortium. The mercenary wearing a light combat jumpsuit apparently decided there was no threat.

Alex’s light mood immediately turned. His face turned to stone, and after the man turned he began walking directly toward him. The noise of the rain and bustle of the street kept Alex’s approach unnoticed. He reached down into his boot, withdrawing a small metal rod that had been sharpened to a point. He slid the inside of his forearm, lying against his skin as he closed his distance to the merc. Alex tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. He turned and gave Alex a confused and angry look.

“The hell you want?”, he said.

Alex cocked his head and smirked, “Old rivalries die hard.”

Without another word, Alex slammed the metal rod into the mercenary’s jugular. The patrons surrounding him scattered, glasses breaking and chairs falling to the floor. Alex left the rod in place inside the man, remaining still and watching him plummet to the floor. As the man drowned in his own blood, grasping for anything around him, Alex began to remove his equipment.

“You won’t be needing this anymore.”, he said.

Just his size, convenient.

Present​

Alex stood directly behind Kurios as their group approached the facility. He was wearing a recently polished suit of light combat armor, and now had a large combat knife strapped to his left leg, and a heavy blaster pistol sitting snuggly in a thigh holster on his right. His walk was confident, a challenge to everyone around him. His reasons for returning were simple. The Black Sun was all he had ever known, and he had answered the call. As for his place among the handpicked seven, it came down to loyalty, and a history of competence and good work. Alexander Troyu had served the previous 5 years on the slave mining world of Kessel, serving out life sentences of hard labor for carrying out an official Black Sun assassination. Not only had he been successful, he did not reveal anything concerning his motives nor those he worked for. Essentially, there would be no one who could ever challenge his commitment, nor his determination.

He followed Kurious as she approached the facility and eyed the two guards outside suspiciously and with a look of dismissal. His look was obvious, but it dared either of the two to react. Continuing in, he stood quietly as Kurios spoke to the lead scumbag within.

“How convenient, you happened to trap them all in their yourself and then decided not to kill them. More like you decided to keep them to barter for your life when Kurios arrived.”, he thought to himself.

As their leader lifted the man into the air and proceeded to kill the man, Alex smirked, and immediately looked up as Kurios spoke to the rest of the group, looking for anyone that seemed to disagree with what was said. One of the gangsters sitting on a metal crate near the edge of the crowd rolled his eyes.

Alex peeled off from the group as Kurios finished speaking, and snatched the man by his collarbone. He squeezed tightly, and the merc had little time to react before he knew what was happening. As Alex drug him toward the bloody body on the floor, he began to reach for the blaster at his side. A quick knee to the nose stopped him, it snapped as the metal kneeplate of Alex’s armor collided with his face. The gangster’s face now bloodied, and his collarbone likely broken, Alex forced him into a kneeling position on the blood covered floor. Standing behind him, Alex pulled his combat knife from its sheath. The metal gleaned in the light as the blade came down into the merc’s shoulder, and into his chest. He yelled in pain, and fell to the floor.

“One less liability. Let’s continue?”, Alex said calmly.

He followed Kurios to the sealed safe room, and pulled his weapons. His heavy blaster pistol in his right hand, his combat knife in his left.

 

[Bantha]

Seven months ago

The acid rain poured from the sky, strong enough to etch lines in the ferrocrete streets and building foundations. Atlas stood in the middle of it, coat collar turned up to ward it off. She was oblivious to it, however, as her left index finger punched in an angry message on her datapad.

‘I am DONE.’

Only three words, but it was all she needed to say. The last mercenary group she had been a part of had its uses, ensuring a steady flow of work and pay, as well as semi-decent gear should she need it. But for all she had done for them, they never paid her as much as they promised. She was never one to crave wealth for wealth’s sake, but the woman had to eat. After the fifth time the higher-ups tried to double-cross her, she’d taken the heads of three of them in one swift movement, faster than they could react. Now they sat as blocks of carbonite, forever preserved to grace the mantelpiece in her apartment.

Present

The months following her departure had been rough. She struggled to find enough bounties to fill her coffers and keep her out of the red. At one point, she was so desperate she even considered joining the Hutt Cartel. What a folly. For if she did, she feared she would be forever chained to them, a dog at the mercy of slug masters.

The fateful call caught her unexpected, sending her running to her datapad in a frenzy. A contact of hers let her know of a new organization that was forming, one that promised to give the Hutts a run for their millions. The Black Sun.

She met her contact in a Cantina a few days later, going over specifics. He had joined them, and urged her to do the same. Having nothing to lose, she said yes. It was almost a dream come true. She would have a steady stream of work and pleasure derived from her ruthless kills. Not to mention their leader, a crazy Sithspawn for a taste of anarchy, was someone she’d be willing to follow.

Proving herself to be one of them had taken all she could muster. She brought the fresh heads of the last two Jedi kill she made and dropped them at Casarius’ feet, along with their disabled lightsabers. The one cost her a blaster shot to the abdomen, and the other her left arm. Thankfully, her work was enough.

Atlas watched as the leader smashed in the man’s head with a horrific scene of blood. That drew a smile; blood and knives were the only things that made her heart sing. So did the promise of more blood being spilt. She readied herself to spring into the safe room with the others, battered electromesh armor creaking. She drew her loaded revolver with her stronger cybernetic left arm, and drew her lightsaber shoto with her other hand.

"Oh, today's bloodletting will certainly be amusing!"

 

[Niklas]

A thin figure stood close to the one who called herself Kurios. His stance was something of pride and smugness, but with a combined sarcasm and malevolence. His arms were crossed, and a sly, disturbing grin fell across his face. As his leader finished, he began to speak.

"Hello, boys and girls. I'm glad you got the invitation. It's good to see you all here. At this time, I'd like to point something out. If there are any survivors left behind, you'll find yourselves counted among the bodies. However, I would expect one of you to follow by example: I'm taking one home for my own personal fun.

Ah, and you might be thinking, 'who the hell does this kriffing guy think he is?' My name is Rowan. Rowan Corliss. And you can call me Vigos.

Now, who's up for some fun?"

He spoke his last few words with a smile.

 

[Ryan Burton]

It had only been a few days since Jett had been introduced to Causarius. The unlikely circumstances surrounding their meeting was the very reason that Jett now stood with this group of people that before this moment, had been complete strangers spread throughout the galaxy. In fact, Jett's life had been a sick cycle until just this week. For the past ten years, Jett had been taking assassination contracts in exchange for a nearly unlimited supply of glitterstim. The drug had a firm hold upon her life. Every decision, every move she made was dictated by her insatiable appetite for the drug. Addicition was no longer something to be overcome...it was to be perfected. Nobody was a better glitbiter, the derogatory term that society had labeled her kind with.

Regardless of the dependancy, the occasional symtoms of withdrawl that would wrack her body with pain, and the momentary loss of sight...Jett was all murder and desecration. She was a fantastic shot with a blaster, and an even better one with a blaster rifle. She had never met anyone that loved to terrorize and defile anything and everything more than she did. That is, until today. The group of strangers that she now found herself surrounded by were her bretheren in mayhem.

The woman was dressed in black. It was the easiest to conceal splattered blood and it didn't stain like lighter colors. Her black boots were nearly knee high and the black pants beneath were tight. Her tight black top was concealed beneath the flowing black cloak that also hid her weapons from the prying eyes of those that she would just assume shoot between them. As Causarius readied the group to breach the door, Jett felt a surge of adrenaline course through her veins. She reached over her head and pulled her blaster rifle from her back. She pulled the weapon into position. As introductions went around, the woman readied herself with her gaze and barrel aimed at the door. "Jett Kadec. Terrorist." Her words, like everything she did, were straight to the point.

 

[Black Noise]

Causarius grinned as her people made their introductions and movements, preparing for their short assault. Yes, she had chosen good, or rather, she had gotten really lucky. Sith didn't believe in luck, though Causarius was no Sith. She loved these people, ruthless, heartless killers without a fiber of moral qualm within their being. There were no ordinary people, they were her people.

"Contact!"
Causarius yelled, simultaneously pressing the button on the wall console to open the door and turning, thrusting her middle left arm through the doorway. Before the first volley from either side could even be released, Causarius had shoved out greatly with the Force, blasting away the 'cover' the men inside had erected and anyone who had crouched too close to it.

Now, every man inside sat completely exposed. They would open fire, but it would be to no avail. The various onslaught brought on by her men and women was far too great. By the time the first few volleys fired from their side, as well as a mouse droid or two, everyone in that room was either dead or dying.

Causarius stepped into the room, ignoring the wounded, better to leave those to her associates coming in behind her. Walking over to the heavy conference table from where John Smi had been hiding, Causarius looked over where the heavy table had crushed the former Mandalorian, armor and all a bloody, smashed mess. A grin overtook her face as she commented.
"Mandalorian armor just isn't what it used to be I suppose, or perhaps it was never was 'all that' in the first place. Hah!"

Turning, the Sithspawn flicked her hand and an empty crate flew her way, settling underneath her just in time as she sat back, expecting it to be there. Looking over her new empire, she spoke. Her voice was thick and raspy through her mask, though it was very clear she was exceedingly joyous.
"There's gonna be a few changes around here! First off, pack up, we're leaving Nar Shaddaa. Too close to the Hutt Cartel if you ask me. Secondly, no more of this hiding in the shadows! We kill who we want, and we make sure those who find the body know that we are the ones responsible. Our home will remain anonymous, but not who we are, not what we do. The Black Sun will be feared once again, no longer are we a ghost story to tell little children, we are nightmares that plague every organized faction this galaxy has to offer! We take from every plate at every table and cut the throats of anyone that looks at us twice!"

Leaning in, Causarius took off her mask, revealing the cruelest grin that had ever graced her face. Crooking her head slightly, she finished.
"But of course, you all already knew that."

 

[Aluminum Falcon]

Alex stood at the ready, crouched on the durasteel floor waiting to spring to action. Causarius opened the blast door, “Contact!”, she yelled. She raised her hand and Alex was caught slightly off guard at her power. He knew some of the capabilities of force users, but this was the first time he had been this close to one with training. The tables the thugs were using as cover shattered and flew about the room, some flinging thugs along with them.

Using their disorientation to his advantage, Alex sprinted into the room, closing his distance almost immediately. His combat knife found the torso of a thug as he stood back up.

“Gahhhhh!”

Alex retracted his knife from the thug’s chest, and finished him with a brutal front kick, knocking him backwards into another lackey. Stepping over the deceased, Alex closed on the other. The lackey was fumbling around on the floor for his blaster, he found it just before Alex reached him, and raised it. His arm shook violently as his nerves got the best of him, fearful of his fate.

“I’ll do it! Stop!”, he screamed.

Stopping for a moment, Alex laughed at the youngsters futile attempt at intimidation. He continued towards him, and the lackey fired. The blaster bolt struck Alex’s left shoulder, just singing through the padding into the flesh. Alex gritted his teeth and glared as he pushed through the pain, his walk not pausing for a second after being struck. The lackey’s eyes filled with fear as he watched his shot only anger his attacker, and as he moved to fire again, Alex was already upon him.

With a sweeping kick, the arm that held the blaster was knocked to the side, perfectly extended. Alex brought his blade down on the exposed forearm, severing it. The blaster, and hand, fell to the floor covered in blood. The lackey fell onto his back as Alex stood over him, raised his heavy blaster to his head, and pulled the trigger.

As he finished he turned to find the rest of the group dispatched, and heard their leader trying to lighten the mood. He sheathed his weapons and crouched, his forearms resting on his knees.

“I love my job.”, he said as he looked at the carnage around him and gave his attention to Causarius.

 

[Batty]

It was time to begin the festivities. Causarius opened the heavy door with the code they had retrieved and at that instant shouted "Contact!" to her crew and Jinzo reacted systematically as if choreographed for his own amusement. The door swung open and Jinzo entered the bunker alongside the one called Alex and the second their feet crossed the threshold the Grey mouse droid erupted in a cloud of thick, dark smoke, that quickly filled the doorway. The smoke was merely a diversion and a mask, meant to distract anyone weak-willed enough to second guess their attackers, and more importantly disguise their numbers as they entered the doorway. There were only 8 men and women present at the moment of infiltration... but why make them aware of that fact?

The smoke went off and Jinzo immediately scanned the room for hostiles and as Causarius used her force power to do away with what little cover the lackies had found, Jinzo found his prey. As Causarius walked straight for the rear of the room, a grunt raised his repeater to her and that was when Jinzo acted- raising his blaster in return and placing two bolts in the thick of his skull, ending his life before his corpse hit the ground. Jinzo watched as those around him seemed to taunt their adversaries, taking pleasure in the struggle they were creating in the men who's time on this world was about to come to a lack-luster yer still tragic end. Alex- the man who had entered along side Jinzo on the foreground was running at rather impressive speed, and handling his knife with such severity, that Jinzo almost didn't notice the brute bearing down on him, attempting to crush his cybernetic skull plate with the butt of his rifle.

Almost.

Jinzo turned and raised his durasteel arm to block the rifle that was swinging at him, and with a swift whip of his pistol, knocked the would-be assailant off balance. Jinzo holstered his pistol and raised his Gaffii stick to return combat, sweeping the leg off the grunt with the flanged end of his Gaffi stick, dropping the man on his back side with a heavy thud. Reversing the weapon in a 180 degree rotation, the heavy weight of the stick came down, focusing all of its momentum into the razor sharp blade on the end, severing the neck of the nameless grunt and spilling his blood to the ground at his feet.

He watched as the others engaged the remainder of the mercs and nodded as Caurasius reached Smi.

"Calculated."

 

[Ryan Burton]

"Contact!"

It was the last thing that Jett heard as she bolted into the bunker with her blaster rifle firing wildly. Causarius effectively removed what little cover the cowards within were hiding behind, which made Jett's job much easier. With a shout of excitement, the woman continued firing at anything that moved. As bodies dropped and her bretheren moved in for kills of their own, she swung the rifle over her head and unholstered the blaster upon her right hip.

Jett took a few steps into the smoke that had begun clearing. It was then that she spotted an opportunity. There behind a small desk in the far corner of the room was a cowering man with glasses upon his face. Jett stomped a few feet until she stood over the man who now put his hands up at face level. It was the same thing that she was accustomed to. Stuttering, blubbering, and tears. She could almost sing the song herself. "Please don't do this. Why are you doing this? I didn't see anything. Let me join you. Blah blah blah."

The woman reached down and viciously ripped the glasses from the coward's face before throwing them to the ground and smashing them beneath her boot. It was a cruel gesture that only earned more tears from the stranger. "Get up. NOW!" She shouted the words impatiently as he leaned against the wall behind him to stand. Jett nearly towered over the man who was now hunched over and shaking in her shadow. This was her favorite part. His useless, meaningless life now rested in her hands.

Jett's finger didn't even stop to lay beside the trigger, it came to rest right upon it as she raised the blaster to the man's forehead. "Last words?" She questioned in an insincere tone. The man opened his lips and drew in a shaky breath, but it was too late. Jett pulled the trigger and a second later, the lifeless body dropped to the floor at her feet. "Oops, my finger slipped." Her words were accompanied by a wicked laugh and a sadistic smile as she turned to watch the bloodbath all around her.

 

[Niklas]

The thin, suited man followed suit as the boys and girls of the New Black Sun charged in. His sub repeater was wrapped in his left hand, and he held it before him. He walked in, through the dust, and had a wide grin on his face. As he stepped in, a man with a vibroblade tried to flank him. Rowan merely smiled. The man charged, blade flailing.

Rowan sidestepped, brining his knee into the man's groin. As he doubled over, he fired into his enemy's back. The body fell, the smell of charred flesh adding to the joyous atmosphere . Just then, another loyalist took aim.out of the corner of his eye, Rowan caught glimpse of him . The spy dropped onto his back and fired several rounds into the man's chest and face.

Back on his feet, he looked joyously at the violence in his vicinity. This was fun. He was having a good time. He made his way toward the Kurios, disabling and killing men along the way. This was child's play. There was nothing to it.

 

[Bantha]

Even before Casarius opened the doors, Atlas was drawing Force energy, pushing it out through her veins to give her the deadly speed she banked herself on. She shot out the door like a figurative cannon after the leader’s Force push that knocked most of the cover away. Her movements would be a blur to her adversaries, and they would not know what had killed them except for their slow reactions.

Bronze lightsaber blade came on with a snap hiss, only slightly shorter than a full-sized one. Holding it out, she blocked three blaster bolts harmlessly away. Reaching her first victim, she sidestepped to the left to avoid a stab from a combat knife. Pivoting around to face his backside, Force speed still coursing through her, she performed and upward slash at his unprotected back that dropped him.

Flipping the saber into a reverse grip, she ducked and brought the saber across her body horizontally to block another shot, this time redirecting it at the attacker. It burned through his armored vest, dropping him too. Ducking down, she raised her slugthrower and fired three times, her cybernetic arm taking the brunt of the recoil. One of the shots hit a mercenary square in his forehead. His body slumped to the ground. Holstering her pistol, Atlas switched off her lightsaber but still held it ready, and watched the carnage.

Her heart was singing, her face was smiling, and her hands were killing. The small, sane, part in the back of her head was not nagging her anymore-- she ditched it years ago. There was no better joy than this.

 

[Minuteman75]

When hearing the team's leader barked the word contact, Tamara watched the door opened with a demon's glee. Just as she was about open fire at the holdouts sheltering behind a table when it was blast away by an invisible way. Awed at the display of the Force, Tamara had no doubt it was Causarius' doing and viciously grateful since it provided exposed targets. The whole group moved in as Jinzo's droid produced smoke to cover their entry. Rushing out of the smoke, Farren spared a glance at how her partners dealt with the weaklings opposing them.

Better snatch one or two for myself before they're all taken. Thought the Savage awhile watching the loyalists getting slaughtered. Then at the cornered of her right eye she noticed a light green Rodian getting on his feet and making a panic run to side away from the carnage, shooting wildly with his blaster pistol. Amused at how pathetic the Rodian was, Tamara swiftly brought up her carbine then aimed and fired two careful shots into him. The first bolt hit the green being's gun hand causing him to drop the pistol and the next one struck at the back of the left leg. This resulted in the coward yelling out in pain and collapsing face first to the floor.

Farren approached the wounded thug with a predator's grace and put up her blaster and drawled a traditional Zabrak knife from her left pocket. She was right on top of the reptilian who moaned like a crippled animal, then she bended her knees down and grabbed her victim's head by his antennaes up to eye level to her. Tamara looked into his large and miserable eyes then cruelly said;

"You fail to provide a challenge, Rodian but you are going to give me some amusement before you die."

The Rodian tried to shake and resist but to no avail, as Tamara began slowly cutting with the knife both his antennaes she had hold of. Farren was rewarded with shrieks of agony from the Rodian, taking her sweet time with her tortuous work to savor each moment. In the background, Tamara heard Causarius make a new speech about moving the Black Sun organization out of Nar Shaddaa and their goal to be the terrors of the galaxy. The sadistic mercenary was in full agreement with her leader.