Amarant
Dead Men End All Tales.
(OOC: If you're not a Sun, but still have business with the Suns, you are welcome, just message me first)
--Sanctuary--
Amaranth smiled as she sat in what could best be described as a small houseboat. She had gotten the yacht-like vessel from a Hutt's estate after he had an "unfortunate accident with a malfunctioning hoverchair." Such a pity. Kesso the Hutt had had such nice taste. Still, she had converted the party deck into a rather simple meeting room. A large, but polished Ceramic table was at it's middle. The Vigo was at it's head. Multiple holographic displays littered the room, as she began reviewing the construction of her base. An aquatic base built to withstand the tides, both of the planet's ocean and of the coming storm. Every little group and squalid band of thugs aimed to leave it's mark and the galaxy, and she was no exception.
The truth was that money had been coming in no short supply thanks to her negotiations with Darrel Irani. Between that and the work of her associates, it was time to get the Suns back into the Sky, so to speak. She smiled, sipping her entirely unnecessary Corellian Bone Jar Whiskey out of entirely necessary habit. One of the weird things she had gotten from Ash was a love of both death-powder Cigars and pricey liquor, all inherited from his posturing as a luxurious criminal with luxurious taste.
She adjuster her tie. A green suit with slacks, jacket slung over her chair, with a red tie and a black shirt. Heavy, but hardly subtle. Then again, when was subtlety the redhead's game? She smiled and sat down, fiddling more with the blueprints, calibrating some of the research schematics absentmindedly. It was time for the ascendancy of the Black Suns. A new eclipse....it could be fun.
--Sanctuary--
Amaranth smiled as she sat in what could best be described as a small houseboat. She had gotten the yacht-like vessel from a Hutt's estate after he had an "unfortunate accident with a malfunctioning hoverchair." Such a pity. Kesso the Hutt had had such nice taste. Still, she had converted the party deck into a rather simple meeting room. A large, but polished Ceramic table was at it's middle. The Vigo was at it's head. Multiple holographic displays littered the room, as she began reviewing the construction of her base. An aquatic base built to withstand the tides, both of the planet's ocean and of the coming storm. Every little group and squalid band of thugs aimed to leave it's mark and the galaxy, and she was no exception.
The truth was that money had been coming in no short supply thanks to her negotiations with Darrel Irani. Between that and the work of her associates, it was time to get the Suns back into the Sky, so to speak. She smiled, sipping her entirely unnecessary Corellian Bone Jar Whiskey out of entirely necessary habit. One of the weird things she had gotten from Ash was a love of both death-powder Cigars and pricey liquor, all inherited from his posturing as a luxurious criminal with luxurious taste.
She adjuster her tie. A green suit with slacks, jacket slung over her chair, with a red tie and a black shirt. Heavy, but hardly subtle. Then again, when was subtlety the redhead's game? She smiled and sat down, fiddling more with the blueprints, calibrating some of the research schematics absentmindedly. It was time for the ascendancy of the Black Suns. A new eclipse....it could be fun.