"Into The Underworld" by: DJM Sith Bloodfyre-Tarentae Quaestor, House Tarentum Sith Order

SBL Zandro Savric Erinos Arconae Consul, Clan Arcona Sith Order

OP Wuntila Zratian Entar Proconsul, Clan Arcona Obelisk Order

2011 - Into The Underworld (A Tarcona Event)

"You are late, Syrus Bek."

The room was dark, sparsely lit only by the holographic images of each of the family heads. The images were obscured by static, hard to make out, especially the faces. Whenever a meeting of the families was called, their heads protected themselves from Syrus in such a manner. Twice before, the families had consented to an actual, physical meeting, and those had not gone well. Syrus could never again expect to meet with these decrepit bastards, but he would always have plans in the making.

"I had a previous engagement that lasted longer than expected," Syrus shrugged slightly, unconcerned about the irritation incredibly apparent in his peer's voice. "We all know that, sometimes, we can't expect everything to go according to schedule."

"And we all know that you consider yourself more than superior to this commission, Syrus Bek," from one of the others, the head of the G'aanovaese. "Your continued impudence will bring consequences, and you know this."

"Don't threaten me, G'aanovaese," Bek nearly whispered in contempt. "I can't seem to get at you, but you don't have the resources to strike at me."

"You'll find yourself trembling with my breath upon your neck soon enough, Bek," Brend of the G'aanovaese rumbled in his throat.

"Enough, gentlemen!" The first holographic image nearly jumped out of his seat, wherever that may have been, and the anger in his voice seemingly caused a bit more static in his image across the holonet. "Let us keep this civil. Syrus Bek, you were requested to this meeting for specific reasons, and it benefits us all if we keep this timely, punctual, and civil. Remember that."

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Taerik?" Syrus now turned himself fully to the accepted leader of the joint families of the syndicate. Taerik Vol was perhaps the eldest member of the body, or so Syrus had always held the impression. His voice seemed to have a youthful quality of it, but it also held a seemingly vast, untapped reservoir of experience and wisdom, as though he had lived several lifetimes, and had gleaned every ounce of insight from every failure, every assassination attempt, every possible mishap that might have come to him, or those around him. Taerik Vol was certainly the most dangerous person on the commission. Aside from himself, of course, Syrus always believed.

"Take your seat, Syrus Bek," the hazy image of Taerik Vol waited while Bek stood a moment longer in defiance, and then took his seat on his own terms. Each of the gathered heads knew Syrus held their power, and their gains in contempt. But Bek also knew their power was deeply-seated in Eden City. They had been here much longer than he. And, while Bek believed his power and resources far above theirs, his was not "old money," as he referred to their own.

"Now," Taerik continued, "we have all recognized the shift in power here in the Yridia system. The noble Tarentae family and their absent lord seem to be waning in their ability to manipulate the populace of Yridia II."

"Yridia II doesn't affect us, Taerik," Bek snorted slightly. "We don't conduct operations on that world, do we."

"That doesn't matter, Bek," Haejm of the Lokhezze would've liked backhanded the youngest member of the seated heads across the holonet if he could have. "Shut up and listen."

"We all know you've made inquiries into the research facility their noble family maintains in Eden City, Bek," Vol continued. "We've heard the whispers, we've seen the evidence. You are looking into an area of Eden City that, quite frankly, is dangerous to us all. You have been requested here, Syrus Bek, because we want this message put to you in no uncertain terms that you are to stop investigating their facility. You are to leave that place alone."

"I don't have to answer to you for whatever I do in my own district, Taerik Vol," Bek stood from his seat, shaking his head, making various gestures that everyone in their own respective seats understood to be degrading and insulting. "They operate in my district, and they will pay me the respect I am due in my own district. I would expect no less from any of you. I am investigating that facility to determine exactly what I will expect from them as a token of their esteem and honor they ought to be paying me."

"Leave it alone, Bek," Vol's tone was intensely lethal.

Syrus turned back to the table, and glared at Vol first, then at the hazy images of each of the gathered families. Six men, including Bek himself, and one woman made up the body sometimes referred to as the commission of the syndicate. While separately, the seven were perhaps not visibly or publicly as powerful as some considered the Rends to be, this syndicate convened and directed its affairs discretely. Bek was the only member of this syndicate that actually conducted business in something of the public eye. While Syrus was the youngest member, the newest member, after the former head of his own family had gone missing, Syrus was overt, aggressive, and willing to take action on any level. The entirety of the family heads believed that Bek had staged a coup of the Kaervanese by eliminating his own uncle Gaerin, placing himself as the new head of that sect.

Syrus took each obscure image in his view slowly, intently. Each knew he was staring daggers through their images sent across the miles physically separating them. Bek looked at Taerik Vol last, and the long, meaningful gaze at the image of the Zibanno head left no questions that Syrus Bek considered him to be Bek's own true rival, the one Syrus was greedily seeking to take everything from.

"I will conduct affairs in my own district as I see fit, Taerik," Syrus hissed. "If you don't agree with how I do business, you can stick your head up whatever you call an ass, and blow. Don't presume to threaten me in my own house. I may not have gotten to you yet, but we both know, I'm still coming.

"Have a nice day, Hutt filth," Bek said as he turned and stalked out of the room.

---

The long, deeply polished wooden table stretched out, with ample room between each of the six beings that occupied seats set at equal distances apart. Taerik Vol sat at the head, as this was his house, and he had called the meeting. Each of the other family heads seated in the room looked to Vol, remained silent for the moment while their acknowledged front man pondered how to respond or react to the recently-ended conversation with Syrus Bek. The G'aanovaese head was obviously frustrated, and while he was certainly capable of be silent, swift and pensive when he felt it necessary, Brend was ready for action.

"Bek is a danger to us all, Taerik," Brend finally broke the silence. "He needs to be taught a lesson."

"And who will teach him that lesson, my friend? Will you?" Taerik's voice remained calm and composed. Each remained cognizant that Bek would likely never learn the lesson they believed he needed. The youngest of the family heads had tried twice now to claim the lives of his supposed peers. The meetings between the syndicate family heads were now conducted to the physical exclusion of Syrus Bek, forcing him to meet with them via holonet transmissions, because Bek had sought to blow up the meeting location or have it bombarded from one of his own ships. Now, the family heads denied him any face-to-face meetings with them.

Brend's mind continued to race through every possible torture he wished to inflict upon Syrus Bek. The youngest head did have an impressive array of resources in his arsenal. He did have a number of warriors and mercenaries, and monetary resources that perhaps rivaled any single other family in the syndicate. But against the entirety of his peers, Bek could not stand a chance. Syrus must have known that when he had tried, on those two separate occasions, to take out who were at least visibly his allies and peers. Among the family heads, however, they knew Bek would always be looking to claim their heads, and their territories. Bek wanted everything for himself. He was certainly a resource to the syndicate, but the heads also recognized he was perhaps the biggest threat to their stability and prosperity, as well.

Silence continued to rest over the family heads like a blanket, or perhaps like a shroud, smothering all thought, all conversation. Taerik Vol waited patiently, looking from one of his peers to the next. Each of these men and the single woman in his company controlled various portions of Eden City. Each of them had gained this control in the underworld, but maintained a mask of public prosperity and lawfulness. Each was the head of some corporation, or a philanthropist, or some beneficent member of the community, but secretly traded in goods, services, drug-trafficking, thievery, and more. It was often Taerik Vol's time consuming question as to whether he was a law-abiding citizen playing at being a rebel and outcast, or a criminal trying to delude himself that he was a vital piece of the community and family of Eden City.

"I think we can all agree that Syrus Bek is dangerous to this body," Vol finally admitted, almost in a sigh. "He is volatile, intelligent, greedy, and absolutely unconcerned with anyone but himself. And his actions against the Tarentae family and their facility will destroy us all, if we do not have a backup plan."

"What do you suggest we do?"

Vol turned his attention to Aisling Tarn, the sole female of the group. Perhaps, with as intelligent as she was, she may have already divined his answer, but Taerik felt the need to speak it aloud, anyway, for the benefit of both himself, and the rest of his peers.

"We need to find a way to contact the Tarentae family and rat him out."

---

"Settle down, everyone. We have a lot to do, in a short time to do it."

The shuttle buy in the undersea Castle Tarentum wasn't quite full, but there was a great deal of materiel and personnel that filled up a portion of its space. Each of the shuttles that Tarentum possessed that were modified to make the underwater portion of the journey to and from the Castle were within the bay, collecting all of the resources that the Castle was sending for the voyage. The gathered strength of the Force-using members of Tarentum was also present, and making ready for the voyage to the Svalinn platform, where other ships were docked that would ferry them to the mission's destination.

Archean Erinos, one of the Tarentae, stood before the gathered strength of his House. Archean had put out the call for the members of the House to gather their weapons and determination, and gather at the shuttle bay at this determined hour at the request of the House's Quaestor, Sith Bloodfyre, another of the Tarentae. Sith was not present in the shuttle bay; the Shaevalian had departed the Castle after relaying instruction and words of advice to his trusted Aedile, leaving the Battlemaster in charge of the preparations that would take all Tarentum could muster.

"Each of you have been given only a scant amount of information," Archean continued, now that the membership had turned to lay eyes on him, "and for that, I apologize. We haven't gotten much yet ourselves, but we leave for Yridia IX as soon as materiel is loaded and stowed for transport. We've had a situation arise at the Asylum, and Sith has gone on in advance to do what he can to assist the personnel there.

"What we know so far," Archean paced a bit out of habit, "is that someone managed to breach the interior of the Asylum facility, and somehow, they managed to acquire items of interest from the facility, and exit with minimal losses to their own forces. Several of our security forces there were injured or killed, and a number of the research staff were abducted, presumably to assist whoever committed this crime with understanding how to use whatever it is they managed to get away with."

The Asylum was once home to the Mystics of the Black Arts, a facet of the former House Gladius that few within Tarentum were these days familiar with. The Mystics had been some of the most potent Krath that Gladius had ever known, and while the Mystics as a whole were gone, one of them still remained active within Tarentum to this day--Sith Bloodfyre. It was no secret that the present Quaestor of Tarentum had ties to the facility, and in recent years, when the Shaevalian Sith Master had formed a circle of peers and allies, the Rite of Sin, Bloodfyre had returned to his former home to enact whatever rituals had driven the Sinners to whatever fate they now shared.

While the Force-using members of the House listened on as Archean explained the situation, the various ships technicians and crew members continued to direct the cargo loading by various droids and personnel, or continued to oversee final checks and preparations to the ship to make the relatively short journey from the undersea shuttle bay of Tarentum to the Svalinn platform, where the ships that would transport the House's warriors to Yridia IX awaited. They paid little attention to Archean and the Force-users of Tarentum, but many of them continued to listen on absently while the briefing unfolded. Some of these crewmen might be accompanying Tarentum's finest on the journey, and those who were had also been briefed in slight before the preparations were made.

The House was going to be entering syndicate territory, Eden City. Yridia IX did maintain a presence of Tarentum's own, but with the absence of the Reckoners of late, and with the activities of Tarentum mostly confined to the Asylum facility, the majority of Eden City was now out of reach of Tarentum. The criminal syndicates, known by many names, and thought to be a collection of various organizations conducting underworld affairs, maintained their own control over the city, and all local government was now either directly allied with the various syndicate or family heads, or was completely neutered by syndicate forces and had no actual control in their areas. For all intents and purposes, Eden City was completely under the boot heel of crime lords.

While Tarentum had the Force on its side, these deceitful, villainous foes they would stand against in Eden City were capable of taking on all but the greatest of opposing forces. Tarentum brought some of its veteran military, and had a small array of ships, but the syndicates had navies of their own, and mercenary forces that were either highly trained, incredibly brutal, or overwhelming in their numbers. The criminal forces may not have been as highly-trained as some of Tarentum's personnel, but they were very good at what they did. Brigands and cutthroats could still take down the fiercest trooper and advanced weapons of any sort given the right circumstances. And within Eden City, the forces of Tarentum would be taking on these menaces on their own turf. This was not a situation to be taken lightly, for certain.

"When you have everything stowed on board," Archean was finishing, "get to your seats quickly. I want to be underway in the next hour, if not sooner. Shuttle pilots are aware of my schedule, and they're going to be doing everything in their power to get us to the Svalinn platform with all possible haste, and headed towards Yridia IX.

"Please understand," Archean added, "that while the Dark Side is a powerful ally, we're walking into the rancor's den. They may be Eden City slime balls, but they've got blasters hidden in every pocket, and a dagger just waiting to be buried in your backs. Or your necks. Or wherever they can stick them. Let's get to it."

---

The worst part of leadership was the paperwork. Zandro had come to this revelation relatively soon after his appointment as Arcona's new leader, and little had happened to change his mind. Such was his predicament at the moment, wading through document after document, some interesting, but most of them sinfully boring. It came as a great relief when the Consul's comm unit beeped and he had an excuse to ignore the mounting stack for a moment.

"What is it?"

"Message from the Tarentum Summit; I'm assuming it's pretty urgent. Patching it through to your holo-display now."

Clearing some of the papers to either side of his desk, Zandro pulled the holo-display unit forward and watched as a figure sprang to life before him. Smiling slightly, the Erinos offered a nod of greeting to his family member Archean.

"Archean, I hear you needed to see me. What can I do for Tarentum today?" The Aedile of Tarentum returned Zandro's nod, but his face betrayed his feelings and the Arconan had to wonder just what was happening with his Clan's allies.

"Tarentum is about to embark on an operation that potentially involves you, and we were wondering if Arcona would be able to provide some assistance." Archean went on in as much length as he had time to spare, giving as much detail as he possessed about the syndicate activity, and the assault on the Asylum. Zandro sat back in his chair and pressed his fingers together before his face, eyebrows knitted in concentration. Several seconds of silence slipped by before the Sith reached a decision, at which point he leaned forwards and began to speak.

"Consider it done," Zandro affirmed. "We'll be there as soon as possible, I hope to learn more when I get there, but know that we're on our way now."

Archean's image flickered into nothingness and Zandro rose from his seat, making his way out of the office and up to his aide's desk.

"Contact the Clan, tell them to prepare for an operation and to meet aboard the Invicta within the hour. If anyone asks, tell them that Arcona marches to her sister's aid."

With that the Battlelord strode from the office, planning a quick stop at his quarters to grab his battle equipment before heading up to Arcona's flagship to meet the rest of his troops and begin their journey to the Yridia system

---

Wuntila stood in the hangar bay of the Invicta, Arcona's flagship, his blue-hued skin glistening in the artificial light of the cavernous space. He looked over the assembled Dark Jedi and felt a familiar pang of pride at the sight, marveling at the power which Arcona seemed to wield.

We've progressed from the ailing House we were reduced to by the Grand Master's decree and risen up again.

He knew as much about the mission as Zandro did, but Wuntila was not afraid or perturbed, he knew that Arcona and Tarentum were strong enough to face anything. Before the mission could begin however, Wuntila had to brief the troops about what they should expect to see when they arrived in Tarentum's space. Clearing his throat loudly, the Proconsul brought everyone's attention to himself and began to speak, his voice carrying with authority and assuredness.

"Right, we don't have too much information at the moment but here is how things are looking as it stands. We are currently en route to the Yridia system to lend aid to Tarentum who seem to have a problem which they would like our own unique brand of violence to help put to rest. We'll be taking the Invicta and everyone you see here, so until we reach our destination your time is your own. When we arrive be prepared for a fight but for now relax and enjoy the free time, dismissed."

The assembled ranks of Force users seemed to melt away until Wuntila was looking over a blank expanse of decking. He felt through the Force the approaching person but didn't turn, his attention on the hangar bay floor before him as he heard Zandro's voice behind him.

"You ever wonder what it'd be like if we didn't use the Force?"

Silence was Wuntila's only answer.

"Yeah, me too."

---

The perpetual expanse of space was lonely, lifeless. Nothing but a cold film of condensation and the odd piece of debris were visible through the viewport. It was a life of solitude the Proconsul had come to relish; an icy void filled only by his thoughts. In his quarters aboard the Invicta, the low, rhythmic hum of the engines was the only punctuation of an eerie silence. He sat, cross-legged in front of the viewing screen, staring vacantly into the dark abyss. His mind raced while his body remained still; only the occasional flutter of heavy eyelids and the steady plume of lingering mist in the cold air indicated life.

"Sir." He was thrown out of contemplation. A simple murmur was a sufficient response.

"We've had a transmission. Zandro has requested your presence." Captain Bly's voice was rugged as rock.

"Inform him that I'll be there presently." Wuntila's eyes still directed into nothingness. Bly nodded and spun on his heels, exiting as quickly as he appeared. The thickset Proconsul emerged wearily from his state of meditation. He stumbled through the control modules of his quarters to the makeshift bathroom. Propping himself up against the sink, he looked up into the mirror and a haggard face stared blankly back at him. He shuddered. A quick splash of water and a few strokes with a brush made him less of an eyesore and more presentable.

The past few months had been tough on the Proconsul and he'd had to adapt quickly to the leadership lifestyle. Paperwork, mediation and responsibility loomed heavy on his shoulders. Shaking his head, he returned to reality and rolled the knots out of his heavily-muscled shoulders; the weight was gone, replaced instead by the urgency of Zandro's request. He slipped on a vest, put on his utility belt and strolled through the hallways of the Invicta, and towards the bridge.

Zandro stood at the head of the transmission console, flanked by Bly and Felix, the two most senior summit guards. The sextet of eyes darted to the door as Wuntila's silhouette emerged from the brightness behind.

"Nice of you to make time," Zandro said, tapping some commands into the console.

"You know what they say about late entrances..." Wuntila's voice was gravelly.

"Yeah, we don’t let them happen twice," Zandro was sharp to reply. "The Tarenti have sent us another a transmission, but we have yet to decrypt it--"

"Decrypt?" Wuntila was fully awake.

"--Yes. It's a high priority message," Zandro finished past the interruption.

"Odd. Bly, Felix, patch a couple of commands out to the engineering floors, see if we can't speed this process up." With that, Wuntila was crouched underneath the module, his big clumsy hands moving delicately amongst the micro-engineering. "We'll have this up in no time."

Dramatis Personae

-Aisling Tarn: (Falleen Gangster) Head of the Karssk family of the syndicate, dealing in theft, drugs and prostitution.

-Archean Erinos Tarentae: (Human Sith) Aedile of Tarentum, blind warrior, and a strong leader in Tarentum.

-Brend of the G'aanovaese: (Herglic Gangster) Head of the G'aanovaese family of the syndicate, dealing mostly in mercenary forces and assassinations.

-Captain Bly: (KKE Clone/Human/NPC) Commander of Zandro Savric Erinos Arconae's own personal attachment of the Summit guard.

-Captain Felix: (KKE Clone/Human/NPC) Commander of Wuntila Zratian Entar's own personal attachment of the Summit guard.

-Drecks: (Barabel Enforcer) Syrus Bek's enforcer and bodyguard.

-Haejm of the Lokhezze: (Devaronian Gangster) Head of the Lokhezze family of the syndicate, dealing mostly in identity theft and cyber crime.

-Justinian Khyron: (Human Sith Grand Master) Sith King, and lord of Yridia.

-Maxamillian von Oberst-Tarentae: (Human Sith) Marshal of Tarentum's military forces, and Hound of the Sith King, Justinian Khyron.

-Sith Bloodfyre-Tarentae: (Shaevalian Sith Master) Quaestor of Tarentum, powerful Sith, and Prince of Yridia.

-Syrus Bek: (Human Gangster) Youngest of the syndicate family heads, and perhaps the most aggressive, and certainly the most public; he is known across Yridia IX as a brutal gangster. The head of the Kaervanese family, dealing mostly in murder, drugs, and protection scams.

-Taerik Vol: (Human Gangster) Head of the Zibanno family and assumed head of the syndicate as a whole, and perhaps the eldest of the commission; seen as Syrus Bek's rival, but also the stabilizing voice of the family heads. The Zibanno's generally deal in gambling dens and extortion.

-Wuntila Zratian Entar: (Human/Theelin Obelisk) Proconsul of Arcona.

-Zandro Savric Erinos Arconae: (Human Sith) Consul of Arcona and Shadow Lord.