Lash of the Kainate
The Dark worked in mysterious ways, but ultimately it had proved a gracious Patriarch to Lirka: the return of some of the Mandalorian barbarians to their homeworld, and now serving under her command (at least, in some loose variation on that) had given her the push she needed to finally begin hunting down the terrorist trash from the old Mandalore that had been proving more and more troublesome: or at the very least had gained the well-earned ire of the Grand Moff.
But a reject, and a Mandalorian with his cronies wasn’t quite enough, and so did the Sephi go and look to the dark and endless depths of the Underworld: a place that was quickly becoming the woman’s preferred stomping grounds, far far away from prying eyes of prudish Imperials. One of those many mercenaries had finally caught her eye, one
Ursula Vizla
Judging by the descriptors of “greedy, cruel, and efficient” that she had been able to gather from information gathering this woman would suit her needs perfectly, Lirka had quickly made work on setting up a meeting between the two: sending the mercenary the call for “work” and the meeting place of a middle of nowhere Shadow Port that had certainly seen better days, to no ones’ surprise the “old woman” that Lirka was had absolutely seen said better days.
Now the Sephi sat in one of the run down and scummy cantinas, clad in a replica of her old armor that she had worn during her down days as a Mercenary: the glowing eyes watching the entrance, “casually” awaiting her supposedly prized-mercenary to arrive.
But a reject, and a Mandalorian with his cronies wasn’t quite enough, and so did the Sephi go and look to the dark and endless depths of the Underworld: a place that was quickly becoming the woman’s preferred stomping grounds, far far away from prying eyes of prudish Imperials. One of those many mercenaries had finally caught her eye, one

Judging by the descriptors of “greedy, cruel, and efficient” that she had been able to gather from information gathering this woman would suit her needs perfectly, Lirka had quickly made work on setting up a meeting between the two: sending the mercenary the call for “work” and the meeting place of a middle of nowhere Shadow Port that had certainly seen better days, to no ones’ surprise the “old woman” that Lirka was had absolutely seen said better days.
Now the Sephi sat in one of the run down and scummy cantinas, clad in a replica of her old armor that she had worn during her down days as a Mercenary: the glowing eyes watching the entrance, “casually” awaiting her supposedly prized-mercenary to arrive.