A Helping Hand

[AMCO]

Vera-class Trade Station​

Somewhere in the Tingel Arm​

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With the invention of the Hyperdrive, the stars themselves had been within reach, yet the incomprehensible vastness between them was still unexplored. Who knew what lurked out there, where no light had ever shone?

Hands folded between his back, Adrian gazed out at that vastness from the bridge of one of his company's civilian stations. Usually so lively, this one was empty. Deserted. Its halls were unlit, the empty clanks on its durasteel floors signalling only the passage of droids. In a way, it was humbling; the sheer vastness of it all, his relative insignificance. In another, it was aggrandising; after all, out of innumerable life forms, he was amongst the greatest. He was Sith. "Sir? The Hunters have arrived at the rendezvous point. Should I transmit our coordinates?"

Snapping out of his musings, the young Sith turned to face the Zeltron, smiling slightly. "Excellent. Thank you, Cara, go ahead." He was lucky to have her. He was Sith, so he knew how to cause pain, knew how to turn it to his advantage, but he did not enjoy it. At least not all the time, not like she did. If it was one thing he had learned, it was that what one loved, one came to excel at. When it came to making people talk, she was the best he had, her slim form concealing a true monster. A sadist of the highest calibre. Striding out of the bridge, accompanied by a pair of Akguza Guards, his mouth quirked upwards into a wry smile. Appearances could be deceptive, oh so deceptive.

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"This is Darkstar, coordinates are being transmitted. We would be pleased if you would join us, mister Fett, mister Valentine." At that, the playful voice would stop, the transmission ending as quickly as it had started. Leaning back in the chair, the young Zeltron toyed with the controls almost subconsciously, mind drifting. A Jedi, oh how she would love to get her hands on a Jedi. She had heard plenty about them, about their strength of will. The thought of breaking, truly breaking, one was enough to make her tingle with anticipation. Oh, how she would make him scream, if only she got the chance.
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As the bounty hunters arrived at their coordinates, their sensors would pick up a lone station, not a single pinprick of light emitting from its hull. Then, in response to their arrival, two bright beacons of light would shine forth, pushing away the darkness to reveal an opening hangar door. No civilian ships filled the vast space, nothing but two columns of droids, shock batons in hand, crimson photoreceptors staring blankly ahead, an honour guard for a man who was yet to arrive.

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[member="Aten Ramses"], [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Julian Valentine"]​

 

[AMCO]

As their ship was swallowed by the hangar doors, the pair of Hunters would find themselves face to face with the smiling face of a young man. Had it not been for the lightsaber at his hip and the pitch black clothing embroidered with crimson designs of ancient Sith origins, he could have easily slid into the role of any smug aristocrat or know-it-all academic. Outwardly, at least.

They would not sense it, would not sense the vile stench of sorcery that clung to his immaculate shape like a vile miasma of nameless origins. The Padawan, on the other hand, could see things they could not; would no doubt be horrified to learn what had happened since the pair had last met.

Grinning slightly, Adrian completed the transaction with a quick signature; as the Hunters' vessel left, his grin only widened. Not only did he have that damn rebel, but in a fit of poetic justice, his severed right arm had been delivered alongside it. An arm that would certainly make a fine eyecatcher, once it had been cleaned up and preserved. For now, however, he was more interested in the person the limb belonged to. Smiling cruelly, he gave the order. When the young man came to, he would find himself in a spacious but utterly bland cell, a shock collar around his neck. He would not, however, be alone for long.

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[member="Aten Ramses"]