Private Duplication of the Council | Lirka Ka

[Mythem Yittreas]

Neon holograms bled across the endless vertical sprawl of Nar Shaddaa, the Smuggler's Moon alive with the roar of speeders, blaring advertisements, and the constant pulse of a city that never slept. Mythem stood on a rain-slicked observation balcony high above the lower districts, red hair damp and clinging to her neck beneath its green band, golden eyes narrowed against the chaotic glow.

The air reeked of ozone, cheap stims, and desperation, perfect camouflage for the rot they had come to excise.

Rumors of an identity slicer circulated rapidly among the elite of the Sith Order, suggesting that there was an individual capable of crafting nearly flawless replicas of the Dark Council members. The consequences would be dire if the remnants of the Jedi Order or the High Republic managed to obtain these duplicates, as they could potentially be employed for deceptive operations and infiltrating confidential databases.

Beside her stood Dark Councilor Lirka Ka , a figure exuding a chilling authority thanks to her significant dark side presence. Mythem maintained a respectful posture, yet her body was tense with readiness, the dark side bubbling just under her skin to shield her from the relentless winds streaming through the gaps of the nearby skyscrapers and the overhead passage of Hutt pleasure barges.

"Councilor," she said, voice steady and edged with lethal promise. "The slicer's work goes far beyond simple forgery. These duplicates are convincing enough to walk among us undetected. My sources point to this sector, Black Sun mixed with independent shadow runners operating out of the mid-level hab-blocks. Whoever this slicer is, they're bold enough to play with the faces of the Council."

Mythem turned her golden gaze toward Lirka Ka, hunger and cold caution mixing in her expression.

"Shall we begin by squeezing the information brokers in the lower districts, or do you already have a specific den of vipers you wish to tear open first? I live to serve in this cleansing." Rain hissed against the railing as speeder traffic streaked past in neon blurs. Somewhere in the glittering decay below, the slicer's trail waited. Mythem's lips curved into a thin smile at the prospect of silencing this rumored threat once and for all.

 

[Lirka Ka]

TAGS: Mythem Yittreas

Lirka had rather missed the wretched hovel of Nar Shadda. The Galaxy behind the Blackwall certainly did not have any great lack of muck and mire for the Once-Sephi to trudge through for her fanatical fascinations with the impoverished nothings who populated the Galaxy in the hope to herald them to murderous evolution.

But Nar Shadda? Well, it had a certain rustic charm to it, it was the original. And in her more miserable days of this life and the last, Lirka had spent plenty of time upon the moon when she did the less glamorous work of a blade-for-hire. It was like a wonderfully murderous trip down memory-lane, except for the fact she was here for work.

A high-quality identity slicer was a grim prospect indeed. If they were as good as the rumors said, any of the scuttling creatures of the Galaxy could use it to lay low the carefully crafted mirage that shielded Sith space. Of course - Lirka pounced on the potential danger immediately. Partially for her own ceaseless paranoia, and partially for reasons that certainly would be obvious to anyone who knew the Once-Sephi.

It also meant Lirka got to investigate into a new face. Mythem Yittreas was a face unfamiliar to the Councillor, and that meant the Warrior was an unknown variable. Lirka did not much trust unknown variables. Lirka kept an emotionless demeanor for now: glowing slit lenses looking out upon the overstimulating hellscape that was Nar Shadda with clawed hands clasped behind her back. She allowed the sheer wrongness of her aura to speak for itself for now - the political clout of a councilor, the whispering void of a force-dead abomination, and the festering of Carnifex's black blood merged with her that rippled with dark power.

When the woman spoke, with a whirr of mechanisms the marred helm of the monster turned to gaze at her compatriot wordlessly. The gusting winds of Nar Shadda seemed to faze the armored goliath little.

"Bold enough, foolish enough."

While there was certainly a flatness to her words, there remained an edge of curiosity to it all too. Was the monstrous metal thing interested in the prospect of what their foe represented, or her new compatriot?

"As I am to understand the information provided to me, you are our resident expert in the matters of this rancid little moon?"

Lirka gladly would've ripped a bloody path through the moon till they found their quarry, but she understood the need for a careful hand just as well. A probing gesture just the same - knowledge of the scum and the villainy was far from a useless skill.

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[Mythem Yittreas]

Mythem's expression changed from a smile to a serious frown upon hearing Lirka Ka 's statement. Exiled to Nar Shaddaa from Kuat by her own mother during the coup led by Julius Loghain, calling her an expert was an understatement. She had experienced the grime of the Smuggler's moon firsthand, scavenging for scraps and bartering her very soul for any semblance of meaningful work that didn't involve shooting someone.

Mythem drew a slow breath, letting the familiar smells fill her lungs like an unwelcoming embrace. She kept her golden eyes fixed on the councilor's helm for one measured heartbeat longer, then let her eyes drift downward to the glittering tangle of catwalks and speeder lanes that spiraled toward the distant glow of the central spires.

"Expert is… one word for it," she said, voice edged with the memory of old scars. "I was dumped here with nothing but the clothes on my back and a mother's curse ringing in my ears. Fifteen years of learning every back-alley cantina, every Black Sun drop point, every maintenance shaft that still smells like blood and cheap spice."

Her gloved hand rose, fingers tracing a deliberate line through the rain-slick air as if drawing an invisible map only she could see. "If you are looking to sell something on this moon of such high quality as replicas, the first place we should investigate is the Promenade. A gaudy commercial area controlled by the Hutt Clan after the collapse of the Black Sun Syndicate." Mythem was very familiar with that area, especially the local bazaar where a wide range of items, from arms shipments to unique anti-force weaponry, were available for purchase along the promenade.

Reaching the location wouldn't pose any issues since there were numerous droid-taxi services available. Mythem's lips formed a tight line, her frown intensifying as the neon holograms beneath cast vibrant colors over her rain-soaked hair.

She took a purposeful step toward the spiraling catwalk that descended into the mid-level warrens, the reinforced plating echoing under her boot as she reached for the nearby terminal to call a taxi. The droid arrived a few moments later in the sleek vehicle, allowing them both to enter which she did without hesitation.