Private By The Pricking Of My Thumbs

[Leven Jeyd]

T A K E O V E R​

TAG: Jonah

Jonah had proven himself a worthy opponent, and Leven adored a challenge that promised to keep her on her toes. His mock bow, the way he acknowledged her adaptability, all of it only fueled her desire to outwit him once more.

“You do acclimate quickly, darling, just make sure to keep that speed up.” she acknowledged, her voice a sultry purr, laced with just enough threat to remind him who he was dealing with.

As he elaborated on their next steps, Leven listened with half-lidded eyes, her mind already whirring with possibilities. Druckenwell Shipyards. That was an unexpected but delightful twist. She could see the potential in such a venture—mining operations feeding directly into starship manufacturing. It was practically a license to print credits. The mere thought of the empire they could build from this sent a thrill down her spine.

When Jonah mentioned Vima T'ann, Leven's interest piqued further. A Twi'lek, mid-forties, with a penchant for dad jokes? The image of their target was taking shape in her mind, but it wasn't quite complete. Vima T'ann was the key to this acquisition, and Leven needed more than just a superficial understanding of their quarry.

Leven took the datapad from Jonah. She glanced at the screen, absorbing the information quickly, her mind already plotting several avenues of attack.

"Vima T'ann…" Leven mused aloud, her voice thoughtful. "She's got a lot more at stake than just shares, I'd wager. Playthings like her, they always have something to protect. A weakness to exploit." She began to pace, her form flickering slightly as her thoughts raced ahead. "We could go for the straightforward approach, of course. A little forceful persuasion, a few well-placed threats… But where's the fun in that?"

She stopped and turned to Jonah, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "No, I think we can do better. We need to make her come to us. Willingly. And for that, we need to become exactly what she wants."

Leven pulled some sort of device from her pocket, and inserted it onto the datapad. The screen went black before becoming alight again, and for a moment it seemed she was sending some message, or entering some code, before information started pouring in and she continued tapping on the datapad, pulling up various profiles and pieces of data as she spoke. "Vima's got her hands in more than just mining and shipbuilding. She's connected—politically, socially, perhaps even romantically. And every connection is a thread I can pull on."

With a few more taps, she brought up a list of Vima T'ann's known associates and contacts. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she found what she was looking for. "Here we are. She's got a few key people she relies on—advisors, confidants. This can get us in."

Leven's form rippled again, her features shifting as she considered the possibilities. "I could become one of them. Slip into their skin, so to speak. With a little time and the right information, I can steer Vima right into our hands without her even realizing she's being led."

She let the suggestion hang in the air for a moment, watching Jonah's reaction. "Of course, we could always keep the forceful option as a backup plan. If she proves more stubborn than expected, well… we can get a new Vima T'aan" It wouldn't be the first time she...stole someone's life. Just one feed, a taste of her mind, thoughts, memories, knowledge, and all. It was mouthwatering, she had gone quite long without indulging.

Her smile returned, sharper and more dangerous than before. "So, what do you think, Jonah? Shall we play this the subtle way? Or would you rather see how far she can bend before she breaks?"

Leven's tone was almost casual, but the intensity in her eyes betrayed the excitement she felt. This was more than just a business takeover—it was shadows and deception, a game that she was determined to win. And with Jonah by her side, she knew that the stakes would only make it that much more exhilarating.

"We're minutes away from realspace," she continued, her gaze narrowing slightly. "If we're doing this, we need to be precise. I'll need access to everything we've got on her inner circle—communications, routines, the works. The sooner I can get into character, the better our chances of pulling this off without a hitch."

She handed the datapad back to Jonah, her fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. "Your move, darling."

​

 

[Jonah]

Jonah could all but see the gears in the Sithspawn's head moving.

The man had laid out a target who had a buffet of options, and that was exactly the sort of meal that Leven adored it seemed. She mused aloud about the potential weaknesses that their target had to exploit, and Jonah's mind was taken back to his studies under the Nightsister Elder. He recalled her advice, about how to secure lasting power in the Galaxy. The Dathomiri were a race which did not have borders spanning the stars. And yet, no matter which way the pie was sliced, their fingers were in it.

Jonah paused for a moment while his compatriot thought aloud. She plugged in a device of sorts into the datapad, which caused additional information to pour into the screen. The man read over Leven's shoulder, getting a feel for the associates and contacts that were available to exploit. And that was where Leven's talents made themselves manifest. Her form rippled and shifted, adopting the characteristics of the individuals on the screen. At one moment, she was a blue-skinned Twi'lek man with bags under her eyes. At another, she was a green-skinned woman with a mask of makeup.

Leven could easily infiltrate the target's inner circle and win over her trust. And Jonah was about to agree...when a thought occurred to him. Perhaps it was the embers of ambition roaring into a flame of sorts, but he thought about where that move would leave them in the future. Would Leven always have to keep this form in her back pocket? Or was there a way to get what they wanted without maintenance? Jonah eyed the datapad once more - and then he found it. A wicked smile appeared on his face.

"Look here." he said, tapping the screen. There was a hyperlink without a photo, but it had so much potential. Upon accessing it, a grayscale image appeared. A young girl, Twi'lek by the looks of it...but there were blotches of color on her flesh. What's more, she had hair in some places where tendrils should be. "I think we have our ticket to ride dearest Leven. I think we found someone that the target wants to keep out of the public eye, for good reason."

Vima T'ann was many things - up to and including a single mother it appeared.

"What if, using the faces of her confidants, a threat was posed to the child and we liberated her from the jaws of damnation. What if everyone Vima knew and trusted to build her holdings were suddenly untrustworthy, but the heroes of the hour were just what she needed to move forward securely? Perhaps her loyalty will see her follow our ambitions? Or perhaps, we can encourage her to let the company go, to be a mother full-time, and to let us hold the reins."

The man smiled, moving his dominant hand dangerously. "After the cards have been played, we can always influence Vima's decision to hand things over. We'll even give her a gracious package so that it all looks above board. Of course, only we shall know the truth." Jonah took the Sithspawn's palm and touched his lips to it. "The stage is set, all we need is the talents of the leading actress. Do you accept?"

Clearly the Jester was rubbing off on Jonah, for her was feeling much akin to a Joker, about to crash an otherwise peaceful game of cards.

Tag: Leven Jeyd

[/code]

 

[Leven Jeyd]

T A K E O V E R​

TAG: Jonah

Leven's eyes gleamed with intrigue as Jonah laid out his revised plan, her grin widening with every word. She could almost taste the deception in the air—the delicious layers of manipulation they would weave around Vima T'ann. Her eyes followed Jonah's finger to the image on the datapad, the grayscale photo of a young Twi'lek girl, a curiosity in her own right with those blotches of color and tufts of hair. An outcast, perhaps, but more importantly, a secret Vima T'ann would guard fiercely.

The girl was a vulnerability—something Leven could exploit, manipulate, and twist to her advantage. Jonah was clever, she'd give him that. His suggestion of turning Vima's closest allies into apparent threats was a stroke of brilliance. It meant they didn't just worm their way into her circle; they became her only option. Her saviors. She turned her head slightly, watching as Jonah's smile widened, his fingers tracing the air like a maestro ready to conduct a symphony of deceit.

"Yes, I like it." They would break her from the inside out, pull every string, twist every weakness. "By the time I'm done, she won't know which way is up."

Jonah's lips brushed against her hand, and she felt a shiver of delight run up her spine. He was learning. Oh, how he was learning. Leven chuckled softly, her fingers curling around his hand, holding it for just a beat longer. "Accepted," she purred, her voice a dangerous melody. "I'll play my part, darling, and more." Jonah had a talent to keep her entertained, and so she would keep them winning.

She released his hand and turned her attention back to the datapad, her mind already racing ahead. They didn't have much time before they dropped out of hyperspace and arrived at Ryloth. The plan needed to be executed flawlessly if they were to succeed without raising suspicions. She scanned the screen, absorbing every detail, every name, every face. Vima's inner circle, her confidants—they were all potential masks Leven could wear.

"All right," she said, her tone sharp and focused now. "First things first—we need to establish contact with one of these associates. I'll slip into their skin, gather what we need. But we can't do it here. Too many eyes, too many variables. We'll wait until we're planet-side, somewhere isolated where I can do my work uninterrupted."

She turned to Jonah, her smile returning, sharp and wicked. "And you, my dear, will need to be ready to pull the strings on our little puppet show. If we're going to make her believe her own people are turning against her, we'll need to feed her just the right amount of fear and doubt. Just enough to push her into our...welcoming arms."

The ship blared once again, signaling their imminent return to realspace. Leven felt the familiar lurch of it slowing down, the stars stretching from thin lines back into pinpoints of light. They were close now. Close to the start of their new game. She felt her pulse quicken, the thrill of the hunt coursing through her veins.

"Once we're down, I'll need access to her communications. I'll need secluded place to work, somewhere I can take on my new identity without any... interruptions."

The stars outside the viewport gave way to the swirling, vibrant hues of Ryloth's atmosphere. The ship descended smoothly, guided by the autopilot towards a landing zone—a remote spot nestled in the shadows of a canyon, far from prying eyes. Leven's gaze remained fixed on the landscape below, her smile unwavering.

The ramp lowered, the warm, the air of Ryloth rushing into the ship. Leven stepped out, her form rippling slightly as she adjusted to the environment. She could feel the familiar itch beneath her skin—the urge to shift, to change, to become. But she would wait. Patience was a virtue in their line of work, after all.

"Any data on the associate's residence?" she instructed, her voice cool and commanding. "The sooner we start, the sooner we have our prize."

And with that, she descended the ramp, her steps purposeful and confident. The game was afoot.

​

 

[Jonah]

They were as a pair of spiders, weaving a damning web that would ensnare an unwitting Twi'lek. With the theatrics she so enjoyed, Leven's fingers curled around Jonah's and she graciously accepted the leading role. Of course, the time for song and dance passed - they only had a few precious moments to get their ducks in a row before their vessel dipped out of hyperspace. Thus, the Jester directed the Joker's attention back to the datapad.

His dominant hand found one of the faces and he tapped upon the screen. "Him. Ra'ul Fortuna. He's in charge of security, and apparently relies on mercenaries for the bulk of the operations. It would be all too easy for you to slip in, posing as a new recruit, only to borrow his face for awhile." Jonah gave Leven a knowing glance. The head of security was bound to have all kinds of access that would pave the way for their plan to bear fruit - up to and including the location of Vima's precious charge.

"I can play the part of the mercenary who grew a conscience. A rare heart of gold in this cold and cruel galaxy." The man chuckled ever so slightly. He parted his lips to say more, but the vessel alerted them that the reversion to realspace was imminent. The Sithspawn rattled off what she would need to get the job done - and Jonah zoomed in on the datapad's screen. "Vima's offices double as her residence it seems." he began. "New recruits are directed to assemble there."

He then drew her attention to the device she inserted into the datapad. "Can this could breach a standard comm channel? It's pretty standard for mercs to be given access to a secure line for work purposes. If we breach that, you'll have all the communications you could ask for."

So it was that the time to act was upon them. Their vessel settled down in a canyon. It was a safe enough distance that prying eyes wouldn't be a factor, but close enough to the capital city of Lessu that it would be a manageable ride over. As Jonah joined Leven on the ramp, he answered her inquiry. "Didn't see anything specific about Ra'ul's residence. I imagine he also sleeps where he works. We'll have to confirm once we've breached the comms."

With thus said, Jonah introduced Leven to one of the bells and whistles that with their vessel. A mid-size speeder rolled out, with plenty of room for Leven to comfortably conceal herself as they drew closer to their mark's headquarters. Jonah promptly hopped into the driver's seat, waited for his partner-in-crime to get situated, and sped off towards the capital.

***​

Arrival was nothing short of mundane. They weren't within the Core, after all. Jonah was able to navigate their speeder through the city streets with no incident. He slowed their approach when they were within a few moments' of arriving at the offices - which consisted of a single, glimmering spire amidst hundreds. "This is the spot, get down." he urged, slowing his advance long enough for Leven to get in position. From thence, Jonah was waved through the security booth of the office park before being directed to the rear. This was where mercenaries would assemble for hiring. This was where Jonah's part of the equation came into play.

Upon parking the speeder, Leven would find that she was within a parking garage. Jonah's thoughts connected with hers as he disembarked and headed over to a gaggle of absolute ruffians. There was only one contradiction: a sharp-dressed man whose build seemed to stress the fabrics of his suit. This was the associate: Ra'ul.

"You all look, smell, and are shit." he growled as Jonah approached. And frankly, the Joker had to agree. However, he quietly fell in as the mark explained the job at hand. Their group was being hired to monitor the office lifts and to escort any upper management to their vehicles. That was it. So easy a Hutt could do it as Ra'ul put it. Jonah was soon provided the channel and access key for the company channel before being dismissed.

The mark announced that he had an appointment to keep and would be riding the northwest lift to catch it. This juicy information was telepathically relayed to Leven - for Jonah noted she could potentially ambush him on the way up.

As for the Joker, he had a channel to crack.

Tag: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

T A K E O V E R​

TAG: Jonah

Leven crouched low, concealed in the shadows of the parking garage. Her form rippled and shimmered in the low light, the air around her warping subtly as she prepared to shift. Jonah's telepathic message came through clearly, his voice echoing in her mind with a precise calmness that contrasted with the bubbling excitement she felt. Her eyes narrowed on the northwest lift, where Ra'ul Fortuna was heading. Perfect.

Jonah had already made his move, slipping seamlessly into the gaggle of mercenaries. It was almost amusing how easily he had blended in, a wolf among sheep. And now, it was her turn. She watched as Ra'ul approached the lift, his broad shoulders squared and his steps purposeful. He was barking orders, his voice a deep, resonant growl that carried over the clamor of the parking garage. His confidence would be his undoing.

As he stepped into the lift, Leven's body began to change. Her skin rippled like water, morphing seamlessly into an indistinct, inky black. Her limbs elongated, bones cracking audibly in the silence, and her body grew thinner and more lithe. She moved like a shadow, slipping out of the darkness and sliding silently through the narrow gap just before the elevator doors slid shut.

Inside, Ra'ul had barely turned around before her hand was on his throat, her grip like iron. His eyes widened, a snarl forming on his lips, but it was too late. Leven's other hand came up, fingers digging into his temples with a viciousness that caused his mouth to open in a silent scream. She could feel his mind splintering beneath her touch, his thoughts scattering like a flock of frightened birds. His memories, his knowledge—all of it flowed into her like a rushing tide.

He tried to struggle, but his body was already beginning to betray him, his muscles going slack as the life drained from his eyes. Leven's form rippled again, the inky blackness fading away to reveal Ra'ul's broad, imposing figure. She felt his strength coursing through her veins, his confidence, his arrogance. A perfect match.

She let his lifeless body slump to the ground, her eyes narrowing as she quickly assessed the small space. There was no time to waste. Leven glanced up at the surveillance camera mounted in the corner of the elevator ceiling—a minor inconvenience. With a quick twist of her hand, she disabled the feed, the device sparking slightly before going dark.

Leven grabbed Ra'ul's body and shoved it into the corner of the lift. She pressed a hidden panel on the wall, a compartment used for maintenance supplies clicking open. It was cramped, barely large enough to fit a person, but she forced Ra'ul's body inside, folding his limbs like a grotesque puzzle. She shut the panel, ensuring it was securely locked. Out of sight, out of mind.

<<Heading up,>> she whispered through their telepathic link to Jonah, her voice now a perfect mimicry of Ra'ul's deep timbre. <<The next phase is on you.>>

As the lift ascended, she quickly reviewed Ra'ul's recent memories. She needed to understand his role, his place in Vima's little web of power, and most importantly, the location of the girl. His thoughts were disjointed, a chaotic mess of security protocols and contingency plans, but one image stood out—a hidden chamber beneath Vima's residence, heavily guarded and accessible only to her most trusted inner circle.

Good. Very good.

The lift doors opened with a soft chime, and she stepped out into the dimly lit hallway that led to Vima's private office. She moved with Ra'ul's signature confidence, every step measured and deliberate. There were guards posted at every corner, their eyes snapping to attention as she approached. She acknowledged them with a curt nod, mirroring Ra'ul's usual brusque demeanor. It was almost too easy.

"Report," she barked at one of the guards, her voice a perfect match for Ra'ul's gravelly tone. The guard snapped to attention, his face unreadable beneath his helmet.

"All clear, sir. No unusual activity to report," he replied.

She gave a short nod. "Good. Maintain your positions. I have an appointment with the Lady."

She moved past them, every movement a calculated imitation of Ra'ul's authoritative stride. Inside, she could feel her mind working at a fever pitch, her thoughts racing as she planned her next move. Jonah would be working on breaching the comms by now, sowing the seeds of doubt and paranoia. All she needed to do was play her part, to stoke the fires just enough to push Vima towards her.

Reaching Vima's office door, she paused, taking a breath to steady herself. She could feel the weight of the next few moments pressing down on her, the thrill of the deception curling in her gut like a living thing. She raised her hand and knocked, a sharp, decisive rap that echoed through the hallway.

A moment passed, then another, and finally, the door slid open. Vima stood there, her eyes narrowing as she took in Ra'ul's form. "Ra'ul," she said, her voice tight with irritation. "This had better be important."

"Oh, it is," she replied smoothly, stepping into the room. "I've received some... troubling intel about one of your closest allies. I thought you should be the first to know."

Vima's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

Leven felt a thrill of anticipation, her pulse quickening. "It seems," she said softly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "that not everyone in your circle is as loyal as they claim to be."

She saw the flicker of doubt in Vima's eyes, the first seeds of fear taking root. Perfect. Now all she had to do was water them, let them grow, and soon enough, Vima would be dancing to her tune. "I have proof," she continued, her tone calm and measured. "But we need to act quickly if we're to contain this. For your safety... and hers."

She watched as Vima's face paled slightly, her eyes darting to the hidden chamber's entrance. "You mean..." she began, but Leven cut her off with a nod.

"Yes," she said softly.

As Vima hesitated, torn between disbelief and fear, Leven could feel the thrill of victory just within reach. All she needed was one more push, one more nudge in the right direction. She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Vima's shoulder. "Trust me," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm. "I'm here to help."

​

 

[Jonah]

The next phase is on you.

Although the touch of the Sithspawn's mind was the usual, the voice which sounded within Jonah's mind was not. Yet, the gruff, masculine tone was enough confirmation that Leven had secured the first objective. The man smiled, striding towards one of the lifts that would serve as his temporary assignment. << Acknowledged. >> he said, before taking a seat at the checkpoint desk beside one of the lifts. Jonah did a quick visual sweep, ensuring that there were no fellow mercenaries or cameras to peep what he was doing, before fishing out his datapad from his pocket.

The Sithspawn's device yet remained in its external port. Thus, when he keyed in the details for the comm channel, it set about its vicious work. Given that they were not breaching a bank filled with a lottery's worth of credits, it only took a matter of seconds for the device to break through. The channel was secured via the building's holonet connection - the same connection which held all sorts of juicy details about the company and its personnel. Far beyond what the duo had ascertained with their recon whilst in hyperspace.

Jonah quickly dove in. He kept their telepathic line alive - so that as the Joker learned, the Jester would too. Soon, he found just the right web to weave. In truth, the whole ordeal was a lesson in holonet security and the importance of making sure one's connection was absolutely secure. The company could have avoided most of this if they purchased one of those subscriptions peddled by holotubers in the middle of their videos. Ah well, their folly was the duo's gain. A few unsecured messages became the object of Jonah's attention.

And with the power of the device, he doctored them appropriately and sent them directly to Leven's own datapad. Here, she'd be provided a papertrail and plans. The evidence was simple - the associates were planning on forcing Vima out by putting her secret treasure at risk. The papertrail "showed" credits being deposited to the mostly-mercenary staff, thereby buying their loyalty. However, Jonah made sure to have a forwarded message from himself as the whistle-blower to the whole operation. He included righteous objections - that holding a child at gunpoint wasn't what he signed up for.

With the packet submitted to his partner-in-crime, Jonah rose to his feet. Now was the time to make sure that their fabricated papertrail was not easily unraveled. Using his newfound clearance, the man entered the lift assigned to him and ascended. His target was not the Lady of the corporation, but rather the associates themselves. According to what he had pilfered, they were all holed up in a stuffy conference room, going over quarterly figures. << I'm heading into position. The packet I sent over should turn Vima into puddy in your hands. But. We need to take it a step further. Let her know you have the whistleblower in position to remove the threat to her daughter once and for all. >>

Jonah promptly disembarked and strolled up to the desk leading to the conference room. "Hey there, I'm a new hire." he began. The man then rattled off his freshly-acquired credentials before continuing. "Assignment is to watch over the Board." The secretary didn't argue with that - their growth warranted extra precautions it seemed. Thus, Jonah was buzzed in and he took his place just outside of the glass room. He did the part of menacing bodyguard quite well. He offered a silent nod to one of the associates, folded his hands in front of him, and stood.

All the while, his trigger finger itched.

Tag: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

T A K E O V E R​

TAG: Jonah

Leven could sense Vima's fear deepening, the tension in the room becoming almost palpable. This was the moment to strike, to plant the seeds of doubt and gently guide Vima toward the inevitable conclusion. She kept Ra'ul's face calm and confident, her demeanor exuding control and reassurance.

"I understand this is a lot to take in," Leven began, her voice low and measured, careful to maintain Ra'ul's gruff yet now comforting tone. "But right now, the priority has to be your daughter. Her safety is paramount, and we could not have kept it were it not for one of the new mercenaries blowing the whistle. A mercenary who has seen the light and provided me with details of the plot against you and your daughter, who has the tools to weed this from the root. He’s already in position to neutralize the immediate threat. I only need your word, see for yourself."

As she spoke, Leven reached into Ra'ul's jacket pocket and pulled out the datapad now containing the forged information Jonah sent her way, holding it up for Vima to see. "The mercenary provided this," she said, her tone grave. "Proof of the conspiracy against you. The lengths your so-called allies are willing to go to seize power... to put your daughter in harm's way."

She handed the datapad to Vima, who took it with trembling hands. Leven watched as Vima's eyes scanned the doctored messages, the fabricated plans for a coup. The fear in her eyes grew, her face paling with every line she read. Leven could feel her resolve crumbling, the doubt and panic setting in.

Leven offered a solemn nod, the opposite of the happy smile she sported in her mind's eye. "We can’t trust anyone here," Leven continued, her voice softer now, almost soothing. "Not fully. The mercenary has shown us there are traitors even among your closest. He's put himself at great risk to protect you and your daughter. Maybe it's time to think about what’s best for both of you… about how to ensure your safety long-term."

Vima’s eyes flickered with a mixture of fear and confusion. "Long-term?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.

Leven nodded, leaning in slightly to appear more sincere, more concerned. "You’ve made a lot of enemies, Vima. Powerful enemies. And holding onto this operation, with all its wealth and influence, makes you a constant target. If this mercenary succeeds today, it will buy you some time, but it won't erase the threats. It won't stop others from coming after you, or worse—targeting your daughter."

Vima looked up, her eyes wide with a mixture of realization and dread. "What are you suggesting?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ra'ul's eyes would show glazed over, but determined, a man making a hard call. "I’m suggesting that you consider stepping back from the operation. A reorganization. With the enemies you’ve made, staying at the top might not be the wisest choice. It might be time to pass on the responsibility… to someone who can take the heat off you and your family."

Vima’s gaze shifted from the datapad to Leven, her mind clearly racing. Leven could see the seeds taking root, her carefully crafted narrative beginning to blossom. All she needed now was a little more coaxing, a little more fear to drive Vima into Jonah's waiting hands.

"The mercenary," Leven added, her tone now filled with a mix of earnest concern and cunning, "has positioned himself perfectly to deal with the traitors. If you’re willing to trust him, to let him clean house, he could help you start fresh. Somewhere safe, far away from all this… danger."

Vima hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. Leven pressed on, her voice a whisper now, dripping with false sincerity. "Think about your daughter, Vima. Think about her future. Is this really where you want to be? Constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next knife in the back? Or is it time to start thinking about a life beyond all this… beyond the risks and the enemies?”

She saw Vima's resolve wavering, the fear in her eyes now mixed with contemplation. It was working. Leven felt a surge of satisfaction. They were so close.

“Let the mercenary handle it,” Leven urged. “And you… consider what’s truly important. Your daughter’s safety. Your peace of mind. A future without all this bloodshed.”

As Vima continued to ponder, Leven felt the thrill of imminent victory. And the dam broke. "Do it, Ra'ul. Let him do it." Leven tapped on the commlink, if only to give the impression for in truth she would reach Jonah's mind filling it with her own bloodlust as the only confirmation he would need to proceed, while her attention remained on Vima.

​

 

[Jonah]

The buzzing of the comm in the man's ear was simply a rouse.

The Sithspawn did not need to utter the confirmation with words. Through the telepathic sliver which ran betwixt them, Jonah was introduced to a tide of bloodlust. The sensation was enough to make his heart quicken inside his chest. There was a particular effect that Leven was having on the man. When it came to matters of spilling blood, he increasingly felt...pride in his work. There was a satisfaction which came with seeing his blades rend flesh from bone. A joy that he could only attribute to sharing proximity with a bonafide huntress.

Thus, though there was some distance between them, he wanted her to enjoy the fruits of their labor. Jonah did not immediately barge into the conference room and raise hell. No. Instead, he reached for that telepathic strand which ran between them. The man opened himself more than he had ever done before. And thus did the strand multiply into a rope...a chain...a river. Jonah allowed the bloodlust which emanated from the woman to rush wildly into his veins. And as he felt her darkness, she would feel the change in her partner. Where once there was a respectable amount of raised walls, now she found an empty vessel.

She could see through his eyes. Taste through his tongue. Smell through his nostrils. This was the gift he offered for a job well done: the chance to revel in the bloodshed that she helped create.

Jonah didn't notice when it happened, but when he turned to face the glass, it was the Jester's signature grin which had wormed upon his face. The door was pushed open effortlessly and the man's vibroblades sang to life. Oh, how Leven loathed these things. But for this bloody work, they would do oh so well. There were six associates in the room. One was standing and going on in a bored tone about their quarterly earnings and what strategies they could adopt for the coming year. His presentation ceased when Jonah stepped forward. Confusion was the last thing his mind would comprehend.

For the man's palm raised and the Force responded. Flesh and bone creaked as tremendous pressure was exerted. There was a gasp. A pop. A spray. The associate's head literally caved in on itself, leaving a crimson mess sputtering in its wake. The remaining associates cried out in horror - but there would be no escape. No salvation. Jonah leapt into action, his blade singing hungrily in a dance across the conference room. The vibrosword bit into flesh. Carved through expensive fabrics. It ignored the pleas and offers of exquisite compensation for mercy...

When it was all said and done, Jonah rose to his feet and rolled his shoulders. The associates laid dead - and now it fell to Leven to finalize their work. No doubt, by now, the seeds that she had planted were taking root. All that remained was having Vima hand over the company to her trusted bodyguard. From thence, they could do what they wanted with the quarterly earnings. And wouldn't you know it, sales were up! Jonah chuckled lightly. With the job finished, he attempted to restore their usual telepathic flow...and for a moment, he succeeded.

Then, his heart skipped a beat. He gasped, clutching his chest, whilst the bloodlust came flooding back. Had he over-extended himself? No. Something else was at work. His attempt had seen the river which flowed between them reduced to a manageable trickle, but it was still racing. It was still pulling from Joker to Jester, sharing perspectives. Sharing pieces. And where Jonah had borrowed her bloodlust, something deep within him was being given as recompense. This was a part of the man that he kept buried. Hidden. A legacy that he did not want to shape his future for him.

But in that moment, something primordial began to flow into Leven.

It was one thing to use the Dark Side of the Force as all Sith did. It was one thing to understand its ebb and flow. It was another to bask in the abyss for eons at a time. Even still...it was another thing to be born from one such creature. Such was the legacy of his mother: a Sith who had spent a quiet eternity within the embrace of the Dark Side. When Jonah was born, he was swaddled in literal shadow. When he fussed at night, it was the hymn of the abyss which lulled him to slumber. Now, that same, ancient, hungry darkness was finding its way into the Sithspawn.

From those dark depths would a new perspective be given. With but a whim, she could see the universe as its constituent parts. With effort, she could see the very molecules which made up everything surrounding her. She could see what the abyss could see.

Jonah inhaled a steadying breath and tried again. The flow snapped closed, returning to the usual telepathic strand. The darkness which made up half his was quieted and stuffed back into his soul. < ...We can unpack all of that later... > came his eventual response. The man shook his head and flicked his vibrosword to cleanse it of blood. The ball was in Leven's court now. She needed to close, quickly, or the other mercs would be upon Jonah in a matter of minutes.

Tag: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

T A K E O V E R​

TAG: Jonah

Leven felt the surge of bloodlust coursing through her as Jonah opened himself to her influence, allowing her to bask in the thrill of the hunt through his eyes. She was no stranger to the rush of adrenaline, the sharp focus that came with stalking prey. But this... this was different. Jonah was offering her something deeper—a more intimate connection to the kill than she had ever experienced.

Through Jonah's eyes, she watched the gruesome ballet unfold in the conference room. The way his blades cut through flesh, the horrified expressions frozen on the faces of his victims. It was as if she were right there, guiding each swing, relishing each death. Her heart pounded in sync with his, her breath quickened with every drop of blood that hit the floor. She could taste the coppery tang of the air, smell the fear that radiated from the last few who were left standing. Her very essence wrapped around Jonah like a vice, tightening with every pulse of her dark satisfaction.

But then, something changed. As she delved deeper into the shared connection, she felt a shift—like a door opening in the depths of Jonah's mind. And from that door, an ancient darkness poured forth.

The sensation that coursed through her was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Leven, in the guise of Ra'ul, felt the immediate flood of Jonah's darkness—an primordial abyss that seemed to pull at her very essence. It was raw, unfiltered power, older than anything she had ever touched, and for a moment, she could see the galaxy through it's eyes. Every molecule, every atom was visible, the very fabric of reality laid bare before her.

It was intoxicating.

Leven reveled in this newfound depth, this connection with the abyss. The darkness Jonah had shared with her willingly was not just a glimpse; it was an embrace. She felt his history, his birth shrouded in shadows, and the ancient lullabies of the Dark Side that had cradled him since infancy. This was a gift beyond her wildest imaginings—a chance to feel the universe in its most basic, primal form. She had known power, known control, but this? This was something else. Something divine.

As the darkness swirled around her, she felt a surge of exhilaration. This was what she was meant for—this symphony of shadows, this perfect union of power and predation. Jonah's acceptance, his willingness to let her into this secret part of himself, thrilled her in ways she hadn't anticipated. A dance where both knew the steps instinctively.

But now was not the time to lose herself in the ecstasy of this connection. She had a role to play, a deal to close.

She turned her attention back to Vima, who was watching her with a mixture of fear and fragile hope, her daughter's life still hanging in the balance, as far as she knew. Leven adjusted her stance, ensuring Ra'ul's posture remained calm, reassuring. "You saw what the mercenary did," she said, her voice still carrying that gravelly tone of Ra'ul's but now softened with an air of authority. "He's demonstrated his loyalty, his effectiveness. He's proven he can protect you and your daughter from those who would see you harmed. This is no small feat."

Vima nodded slowly, her eyes still darting between the datapad and the door where the faint echoes of Jonah's bloodletting had finally subsided. "But…what happens now? There are so many more..." she asked, her voice trembling.

Leven leaned forward slightly, exuding calm confidence. "Now, we think about the future," she said. "The mercenary who just saved your life—he's part of an enterprise called OGUN. They specialize in handling delicate situations like this. They have the resources, the manpower, the expertise. If you were to transfer the shares of this operation to OGUN, you'd be putting your trust in professionals who can manage these threats, who can take this burden off your shoulders."

Vima's eyes widened at the mention of transferring her shares. "My…my shares?" she echoed, confusion and a hint of panic in her voice.

Leven nodded, her expression calm but firm. "Yes, Vima. In doing so, you step away from the line of fire. You give your daughter a future free of these enemies who constantly circle you like vultures. The mercenary has already risked his life for you today. He can be trusted to manage what comes next. Let OGUN handle the enemies, the traitors, and more importantly, the risks. You and your daughter can disappear, start anew somewhere safe."

Vima's face contorted with indecision. She glanced down at the datapad in her hands, still trembling slightly. "I... I don't know," she stammered.

Leven leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, oozing with sincerity. "Think of your daughter, Vima. Every day you hold onto this operation, you keep her in danger. You keep yourself in danger. The wealth, the power—it's not worth your lives. Let OGUN take the reins. Let them protect what's yours while you protect who you love."

There was a long pause, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Leven could see the thoughts racing behind Vima's eyes, the fear and the realization that this might be her only way out. Finally, Vima looked up, her expression one of weary resignation. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll do it. I'll transfer the shares to OGUN."

Leven allowed a small, satisfied smile to flicker across Ra'ul's features. "A wise choice," she said softly. "I'll handle the announcement. You just worry about getting you and your daughter to safety."

Vima nodded, seemingly dazed as she began tapping on the datapad to initiate the transfer. Leven watched her with a famished gaze, feeling the satisfaction of a plan falling perfectly into place.

As soon as the transfer was complete, she activated the comm channel, her voice steady and authoritative. "Attention, all personnel," she said, her tone carrying a weight that demanded attention. "Effective immediately, the shares and control of this operation have been transferred to OGUN. Further instructions will follow shortly. Continue with your current assignments until further notice."

She ended the transmission and turned back to Vima, her expression softening. "You did the right thing, Vima," she said, her tone almost soothing now. "Now go. Take your daughter and disappear. Let OGUN handle the rest."

Vima nodded again, clutching the datapad to her chest as she hurried out of the room, her fear still palpable but now mixed with a sliver of hope.

Leven watched her go, the thrill of victory coursing through her veins. She turned her attention back to Jonah through their shared connection, letting her satisfaction flow back to him.

She quickly went through one of the cabinets in the office, and found what she was looking for. A small bar, within a perfeclty cold bottle of Daruvvian champagne. Pulling two flutes to the Vima's table, the Jester took her seat, ready to uncork as soon as her partner joined her.

The darkness she had felt from Jonah still lingered, like promise of what more they could achieve together. This was only the beginning.

​

 

[Jonah]

Jonah's blade slid back into its sheath.

And as the metal returned to its resting place, he bore witness to the performance of the century. Whilst wearing Ra'ul's flesh, Leven effortlessly plucked at the insecurities of the Twi'lek. Leven offered salvation on a shining platter and...with a touch of hesitation, the gift was accepted. Vima scurried off to secure a future for her and her child, away from the bloody mess that was the corporate world. Now, all that remained was OGUN. Not bad for a day's work.

Jonah strode forth from the conference room with a pep in his step. The smell of victory well-earned was enough to momentarily distract him from what had transpired only moments before. He knew that part of him existed, but it was buried deep within. It was synonymous with the surname Verd in his book. It was power that came through his blood, not through his own strength. Could he leverage it to make his goals that much easier to attain? Absolutely. But then, would he have truly earned it?

Ah, but then came a good question.

It was one that popped into his mind when he entered the office space belonging to the former CEO. He felt the satisfaction of his partner which flowed freely into his mind, making it difficult for a smirk not to form upon his lips. However, it wasn't the form of the woman he was accustomed to which greeted him. It was the form she adopted. And thus, the question: had she not earned this victory? She was created, nay, born with the talents to mold her flesh as she saw fit. Did her usage of her gifts take away from the success they had grabbed today? Far from it.

So perhaps...perhaps he was hindering himself for all the wrong reasons. Bah, that was something to unpack another day.

"I'm glad that Miss T'ann saw reason." he began, keeping his tone light and professional. All the while, his own satisfaction crashed against her own. "There's much to do - but first, I do believe a celebration is on order." The man reached for one of the flutes and nodded. "To Miss T'ann." he said, continuing to play the role to a tee.

But his true thoughts would echo in her mind.

<< To us. >>

Tag: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

T A K E O V E R​

TAG: Jonah

Leven’s eyes sparkled with dark delight as Jonah entered the room. The satisfaction of the hunt still coursed through her veins, amplified by the shared experience of Jonah’s own darkness. She watched him with an expression that was both appreciative and hungry, pleased with her worthy partner. Her fingers deftly worked the cork from the bottle of Daruvvian champagne she had found in Vima’s office, a perfect celebratory drink for the occasion.

As Jonah approached, she lifted a glass to him, her smile shifting into something warmer. “To Miss T’ann,” she said aloud, her voice still carrying the gravelly tone of Ra'ul's disguise.

His own satisfaction reverberated back at her. The thrill of their partnership, of what they had just accomplished together, was palpable. But she knew this was just the beginning. As much as she relished this victory, her mind was already spinning with thoughts of what lay ahead.

She took a sip of the champagne, savoring the crisp taste, before setting the glass down and leaning back in her chair. Ra'ul’s form shifted slightly, adopting a more relaxed posture, yet there was an unmistakable intensity in her eyes as she considered their next move. “OGUN has made a strong entrance here,” she began, her voice thoughtful, the name of their enterprise said as though she were talking about a living, breathing thing. “But this is only a single piece of the puzzle. If we want to make a real impact, we need to think bigger. Much bigger.”

She studied Jonah’s face, gauging his reaction. She knew he was as ambitious as she was. “Ryloth is just a stepping stone,” she continued. “We need to extend our influence far beyond this place. There are entire sectors that will soon be ripe for the taking once the warring begins—worlds where the where the right push could bring them under our control if we time it just right.”

Her voice dropped to a more conspiratorial whisper, and she leaned forward, her gaze locking onto his. “I have my...people on Nar Shaddaa,” she said, her tone revealing just how extensive her reach truly was. Her beautiful Giggling Court. She hadn't spent the last few years on her belly, pleased with the random gain. Leven was always building. “Assassins, information brokers, and loaners mainly—all useful assets in their own right. But to expand beyond that moon, we need to weave these threads into something far more substantial.”

She let the implication hang in the air for a moment, allowing Jonah to see the vision she was crafting. “We need to think of building something that extends across the galaxy—a network that combines the ruthlessness of the underworld with the precision and power of corporate influence. A syndicate that can operate both in the shadows and in the light, as needed.”

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle between them. “There are factions out there, remnants of old alliances and failed enterprises, that still have value—assets, technology, people. We could reclaim some of that. We don't have to start from scratch. Imagine if we could find something—or someone—from those shattered factions that could be... useful. There's always someone out there with a grudge, with knowledge, with a desire to see their old enemies burn. We just have to find them.”

Leven’s smile turned more devious, her mind already racing ahead. “We take what we need quietly, build our strength. Start by consolidating our power here, use OGUN as our public face while we gather resources and allies in the shadows. When the time comes, we strike. Not just on one planet, but across multiple systems, establishing our presence once its solid.”

She reached for her flute again, raising it in a silent toast to their future conquests. Only then did her form ripple again, shedding Ra'ul's visage for her own once again. “We’ve already taken the first steps,” she said. “But the galaxy is vast, and there’s so much more to claim. And I want to take it very, very far, Jonah.”

She could see the fire in Jonah's eyes, the same hunger that burned in her own. They were both creatures of ambition, bound by their desire to carve out their own empire in the stars. And together, with the darkness they had touched and shared, they would one day become unstoppable.

Her grin widened, predatory and full of promise. She was ready, and she knew Jonah was too. This was just the beginning, and with each step, they would get closer to their ultimate goal: domination, not just of Nar Shaddaa or Ryloth, but of entire chunks of the galaxy itself. And nothing, not even the vastness of space, would be beyond their reach.

​

 

[Jonah]

There was so much on the man's mind.

He wanted to revel in their success, and yet the question he shoved to the rear of his thoughts kept nagging at him. It didn't help that Leven was literally the M.V.P. of this operation. Were it not for the abilities the Sithspawn had been born with, they would not have gotten so far so easily. Yes, they both had parts to play, but in Jonah's mind, Leven did the heavy lifting this day. This challenged everything so heavily in his mind, so much so that it took the glint of her raised glass to tug his attention once more. They shared a toast, their satisfaction echoing about one another wordlessly.

From thence, Jonah leaned upon the former CEO's desk, savoring the beverage. Leven's gaze never left his own - or rather, Ra'ul's. It was unsettling to stare a man so deeply in the eyes like this, but behind the grizzled exterior he could see her clear as day. In fact, he could practically hear her voice at this point. "That it has." he agreed, referring to the name that Leven had provided to the Twi'lek. Ah, but there was more to the equation. They would never be satisfied with a random mining and starship company on the ass-end of the Galaxy.

This was the opening act of a long and fruitful endeavor. Thus, Jonah nodded as she spoke about Ryloth being a stepping stone. Every word she spoke, the man agreed with. There was so much potential, especially as the Galactic powers went to war against one another. All they had to do was reach out and take it. They now had a foundation that was more solid than the funds they acquired through their initial missions. A source of passive income that could fund larger and bolder ventures. They could fund people now - keep assassins and the like paid and loyal to their whims.

Leven was off to the races already. She had a network of her own, but they needed to expand it. Build upon it. As she spoke, Jonah's mind painted an image of the vision she was laying at his feet. It coincided with many truths. The words of his mentor Lyssara came to mind - of how power truly worked amidst the stars. When her piece was said and done, her flute raised as a silent toast to their ambitions. Jonah was silent, but his eyes were alive with thought.

And after a few moments of contemplation, the man made a decision. He exhaled - and as the breath left his body, it was as if a weight had been shed from his shoulders. When he departed from the Expanse, his concern had been about not using the connections and powers and names that were associated with his lineage. He wanted to set out on his own and to show all creation what he could do. But tying his hand behind his back and expecting success was a fool's errand. Denying his birthright was a fool's errand. For this dream to come to fruition, he needed to be at his best and to bring his best. Thus...no more. He wouldn't run away from himself, not even that primordial part of him that he kept buried so deep.

The flute was temporarily placed upon the table. "Think bigger." he said, taking a step forward. The man was quiet, yet leaned upon the theatrics of his compatriot. He borrowed her wicked smile as he invaded her personal space. In fact, he touched his brow to hers for but a moment before continuing. "You've painted a beautiful foundation - but there's more we can do. More that speaks to who and what we are."

He stepped back, beginning to pace as he spoke. "When you and I became partners, we subverted something. We flipped a norm on its head that's been in place for thousands of years. And today, we've proven that people like us can work together towards a common goal without fear of knives in the back. Leven, I'm proud to say I trust you. If push came to shove, I feel you'd kill to save my hide - and you damn well I'd cut down an army for you." His dominant hand raised, pointing towards her.

"And that is our mark. One that echoes across the very fabric of the Dark Side. How many are exhausted of what happens during and after each war? How many, like us, tolerate a world where they are forced to kneel before ambitious 'gods', craving their power? What if we gave them the option we gave each other? Sith who embody the freedom written in the Code. Sith whose chains are broken. Think bigger Leven. I think we can create for ourselves a world where the ambitions of one are the ambitions of all."

Jonah smiled, continuing. "Now, on the topic of OGUN...There is something I wanted to bring to your attention. A detail that coincides with your vision, of not starting from scratch, but building a network that breathes across the stars. The quarterly report that the late board was going over...I saw something that warrants a little digging. Apparently, the company is shelling out a fortune to keep a cartel of sorts afloat. And it is through them that the security teams are hired. I would imagine that the board used them for all sorts of nefarious means."

The fire in Jonah's eyes matched her own. Through OGUN, they could have a struggling cartel. From a struggling cartel, they could amass their network. From their network, they could amass power. Through power, victory. Jonah strolled over to the CEO's desk and rummaged for a moment until he found a paper copy of the deck that was being presented in the conference room. Another moment and he flipped to the page in question. "There. Haxion Brood. I do believe a trip further into the Outer Rim is in order."

Tag: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

TAG: Jonah

"I've never quite thought I would play nice with others, Jonah. You've proven me wrong on that." Her voice was steady, honest, for once there were no trails of humour or mischief. Leven had grown to appreciate the man standing in front of her in more ways than one. Jonah was no longer just a valuable asset. The Jester had, and would, kill again for much less than securing his life. She stood, her form moving towards him until she could place a hand on his shoulder. "Besides - It is so much fun having you around, my darling."

“We have the chance to do something different, something… unprecedented.” She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with dark promise. “A new order for those who have been cast aside, who crave more than what the galaxy’s petty wars and false gods can offer.”

Leven’s gaze shifted to the paper Jonah held, her interest piqued by the mention of the Haxion Brood. She recalled their reputation—a cartel notorious for their mercenary work and less-than-savory dealings. “A trip further into the Outer Rim, you say?” she mused, her mind already racing with possibilities. “It sounds like an adventure. And you know how much I love a good adventure.”

XxXx
​

Leven stood by the viewport, the endless black sea of space stretching before her Her pale reflection flickered over the galaxy's expanse, her eyes gleaming with something far deeper than mere ambition. Time had passed since they first set their plan in motion, but in the wake of every move, she felt the growing pull of power—raw, untapped, and so close.

The Sith Brotherhood had now rooted itself in the undercurrents of the galaxy. And their grip on the Haxion Brood, once fragmented and weak, had tightened with precision, like the slow closing of a vice. The shadows of their success were growing long, but Leven's hunger still stretched galaxies ahead.

"We've done well," she said, her voice slipping from her lips like a caress and a challenge all at once. She didn't turn to face Jonah, not yet. There was something magnetic about the stars, a reflection of her own boundlessness —distant, unreachable for most, but not for her. Never for her.

Her fingers traced a pattern on the glass, eyes narrowing as thoughts spun behind them. "The Brotherhood is no longer a dream shared. We've settled its foundations. The Haxion Brood rises because we willed it to rise. It all moves at our whims, and no one is the wiser." A laugh, soft, almost to herself. "It's everything we wanted. But... it's not enough. Not yet."

She pulled her gaze from the stars then, turning with fluid grace to face Jonah, her ever-present counterpart. The sharp lines of her face, half-illuminated by the dim light of the cabin, reflected the storm brewing inside her.

"And the galaxy won't stay fully unaware for long," she continued, stepping closer, her voice low but charged with something electric, dangerous. "They don't see us. Not for what we truly are. The Haxion Brood is stirring, yes... but when we fully wake them—we'll have some opposition to handle. I wanna be prepared for that."


​