There Be Dragons

“Clearly things have changed,” Tyrius said wryly. “If you want total control of your city back, you would have to go through Xalren and the rest of Black Sun. Pardon me, but I strongly doubt that you would come out of that encounter unscathed, let alone with your life.”

Drakmos glared at the Vigo, baring his fangs. “Watch yourself, Arkanian. I am this close to flirting with such a prospect.”

“But you must acknowledge the fact that if you truly had the strength to overthrow Xalren and drive Black Sun off your planet, you would have done so by now. Wouldn’t you?”

Drakmos leaned forward in his throne, nearly rising from it. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that if you want to challenge Xalren, you need to play him at his own game. You need a criminal empire of your own, one that will match Black Sun in strength. Not only then will you be able to rid yourselves of us, but you would also send a message to anyone else who happens to stumble across Ord Talavos. In time, the system will fade back into obscurity and you will be able to return to the life you had before we came along.”

The dragon lord’s eyes narrowed into slits, regarding Tyrius carefully. “Why are you even telling me all this? Aren’t you Xalren’s chief lieutenant?”

“Yes, but that hardly means I’m loyal to him,” Tyrius said. “It just means I have more money than any of the other Vigos. It makes no difference to me whether his attempt at reviving Black Suns succeeds or fails; I will end up all the richer regardless.”

Drakmos leaned back in his throne, folding his hands together as he continued to eye the Arkanian warily. “Even if I were to follow your advice, where would I even find the means of accumulating such a power base? I won’t find it here in Vostal; my people are hardly the criminal type and the ones you have brought here are mostly loyal to Xalren.”

Tyrius smirked. “I have my connections. Do you think Xalren is the only crime lord I have made an association with?”

“Truly, he was wise to put his faith in you.” Drakmos snorted, puffing out more clouds of smoke from his snout. “Fine. I will humor you. Could you get me in touch with one of these associates of yours? Preferably without Xalren knowing.”

Tyrius grinned, his teeth shining just as brightly as Xalren’s had when he spoke to the Despised One two years ago. “Why, certainly. There is one crime lord in particular who has been making quite the name for himself out on the Outer Rim lately. Even the Hutts aren’t willing to cross him.”

“I’ll believe the stories once I’ve met him myself,” Drakmos said, waving his hand flippantly. “What is his name?”

“He calls himself Malvis.”