Private Homecoming

[Lirka Ka]

JUTRAND

The deed had been done.

In the dark, shadowy places of the Galaxy Lirka Ka had committed another great sin, as she would do for time immemorial. In a petty quest, fueled by the maddening loneliness of a creature truly unique, the flame stoked by a mind always locked to the future. Potentiality. It was a vague concept. Yet it was something that drove Lirka to the depths of evil that few monsters in this were so wretched enough to reach. There were many potentialities in the day to come, be it weeks, years, decades, Lirka Ka watched those forces she deemed had the potential to grow into something mighty. Some in matters of raw power, others in matters of the grueling cruelty of politics. Quinn Varanin had unfortunately, and unknowingly, fallen into the latter most category. A royal, someone to walk in the shadow of, a soul that held great potential for ascension. Their exchange had been a brief one, of a kindly old veteran and a grieving princess.

A chance for Lirka, ever so slightly, to begin to sink in her claws.

But that had been mere circumstance, a fortunate meeting in the wake of the Princess's misfortune. Circumstance was an unreliable variable. Lirka Ka did not tolerate unreliable variables. She needed an in, a way to keep track on the way this potentiality would develop. Entered poor, poor Kirie a slave turned handmaiden - semi-officially, Kainate property, it painted a quaint target on the woman's back for those who knew to look. So, Lirka Ka had descended upon the Princess's most favored, and gifted to her a wound most grievous: a wound of flesh, a wound of mind. She was to be Lirka's in.

The girl's vocals had been stripped away, replaced by writhing foulness given life by that little piece of Lirka's own black, viscous being. Her mind warped with the false memories of a dozen poor souls ripped apart to form the story Lirka wanted. The one story, in all the impossible vastness of the Galaxy, where Lirka Ka, liar, murderer, scum, would be the hero. A hero that would reap every reward she could.

The savagery was a distant specter now, as her and her newest of "associates" walked the streets of Jutrand. Not mere cycles prior, she had been assailing the girl with her gaggle of scoundrels - all of which now dead beneath Lirka's blade, blown to stardust when her crime scene was washed away with the fiery explosion of reactor meltdown. The Once-Sephi kept her features cold for now, but she was mighty chuffed with herself. She had fears at first, and of course, those fears had not yet abated; there were still variables to be accounted for. But her crime? Well, it certainly felt like a masterwork, but now came the homecoming, the moment of truth. The field test of another experiment, to see if her grim crime would truly yield fruit.

With Kirie in tow, she had asked as nicely as she could muster to be the woman's guardian upon return to the Varanin apartment upon Jutrand. Who knew what "evil Kainites" might still have been lurking in the shadows of Jutrand's many alleys and corners. Lirka had already killed her fellows for the Weikian's sake, what would a few more have been? Though, in truth, Lirka's ambitions were far less kind than she may have let on - the girl had been freshly marred, and while she certainly could have simply sent her away for the Princess to pick up from the street...the hand delivery of a favored pet offered so much more potential.

Lirka Ka had walked head first into more warzones than most people would see in their whole lifespan, she had leapt from low atmosphere plenty of times, she had survived audience with a myriad of dark lords. But as she moved up the steps of the complex - she was heading into a battlefield grossly unfamiliar, she steeled her will. Today demanded a damn good showing if there was to be anything to gained from this venture other than the mere perpetuation of misery. As the pair finally reached the door of the home Lirka had so cruelly stolen Kirie from, she stood, silent, waiting. Certainly, the monstrous brute wasn't going to make the first move and do something like knock - she had brought Kirie along to do that sort of menial work.

Now all there was to do was wait, and think, and formulate a lie so sweet none could resist.

 

[Kirie]

'Lirka. Thank you again for taking me home. I don't know what would have happened if the people in that lab had been able to finish whatever they were doing.' Kirie's hands moved clumsily, her brain casting back to hours spent in the community hall on Cephis practicing sign conversations in ORSL. Thankfully, the droid circling over her head had a keen eye, and dutifully repeated back what it saw, turning it into crisp, mechanical words.

'I know this must have put you in a difficult position with the other Kainites.' Kirie continued. 'But, you already know I'm grateful, and Quinn is too.'

Kirie was unsure if it was because of the lingering terror of the ordeal, or the long lapses of unconsciousness she had experienced, but her brain still felt foggy. There were the memories she knew clearly, but there were also faded impressions, smudged afterimages so unfocused and jumbled she couldn't make sense of them. When they came to a stop outside the Varanin apartment, and Kirie caught a glimpse of Lirka framed against the quiet street, another one floated to the surface of her mind. She wasn't even consciously aware of what it was or what it meant, but it made her throat tighten.

She pushed the feeling down. Lirka was her saviour. Kirie would even go as far as to call her a hero, at list within the narrow lens of what the hulking woman had done for her. These flashes of fear, they were an unfair association to the captors that Lirka herself had butchered. No doubt they would fade in time, just as the strange order of events that had befallen her would straighten themselves out in their memory.

If there were gaps, so be it. Maybe it was better not to remember everything.

They arrived at the doorstep, with Lirka hanging back respectfully. Kirie felt a tinge of nervousness. She never wanted Quinn to fret, but there would be no avoiding her reaction to how Kirie was turning up at her door. The network of angry purple streaks across her neck, the Kainite brand on her arm returned to its former crimson glory, the plain clothes Lirka had scrounged up for her, the dark circles under her eyes, the cuts on her knuckles, scrapes on her knees and gash on her forhead. She was an unsightly wreck, but the thought of delaying their reunion even a second for her to clean up had been unbearable.

So here she was, in all her bedraggled, pathetic glory, but the sight of home made it all better.

'Ok. Home. I'm ready.'

Kirie raised her arm and knocked.

Quinn Varanin | Lirka Ka
​

​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Kirie //: Lirka Ka //:

Their home was a disaster. Everything was in shambles. Quinn had thrown everyone out; no one could do anything the way Kirie could. They tried, they tried so hard, but failed miserably. All it did was push the Princess further into a spiral.

Nothing helped. None of her diplomatic ventures into other territories yielded any new insights. The visions were only growing more troubling, mixed, jumbled, and all she had left was the fragile, delicate thread that still bound them together through the Force.

She moved quickly through the living room, finishing her packing. Another trip to the Unknown Regions was planned. Maybe, out there, Kirie's signal would finally strengthen.

Quinn wrestled with her suitcase, trying to keep it closed long enough to lock it. Nothing worked. With mounting frustration, she flung the suitcase across the room. Clothing was scattered everywhere, littering the floor. She pressed her palms hard to her temples and exhaled sharply.

Then it hit her, a familiar feeling echoed in the back of her mind. Before she could even process it, there was a knock at the door.

Quinn stumbled away from the couch and the mess of clothes. Practically running, she flung the door open, and there they were.

Kirie. And Lirka.

It was surreal.

Her eyes moved from the armored Imperator to the woman beside her. A surge of emotion rose in her chest, and Quinn stepped forward without hesitation, wrapping Kirie tightly in her arms.

She needed to know this wasn't a dream. That Kirie was real. That everything she'd done, all the searching, all the failures, hadn't been for nothing.

"Kirie… you're home." Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

Something felt off, though. Her face softened as she gently brushed a strand of hair from Kirie's face. Fighting back tears, Quinn stepped aside and gestured for them to come in.

"I'm sorry, please, come in."

She waved her hand, and the Force gathered the scattered clothes, sweeping them discreetly into the hallway, away from the sight of Lirka and Kirie.

Once they entered, Quinn quietly closed the door behind them and darted toward the kitchen.

"Sorry for the mess. I've been traveling…" she explained quickly, rising onto her toes as she reached for the mugs on the higher shelf. Her body hovered slightly as she retrieved them, placing them carefully onto the counter once her feet touched the ground again.

The kettle was already on the stove.

Turning back toward her guests, she looked between them.

"Lirka," Quinn said softly, "did you… Did you find Kirie for me?"

 

[Lirka Ka]

The abject misery of loss hung in the air. It was a nigh-intoxicating feeling for Lirka. Loss had led her to darkness, to the cruel revelations of primeval truth and the path to Holy Rhand. The precipice of agony, peering down into the abyss. Lirka was a woman of deep faith, and multi-faceted was her maneuvering. Her bout was a political one, a social one, but in the underline of it all. A matter of faith. To guide another soul to agony and see what becomes of them - such a thing had become all but second nature as she walked the Dark Path.

It was amusing, the many forms suffering took. She had burned worlds in the name of suffering, she had shackled bloodlines in the name of suffering. But today? All she had needed to do was bring her cruelty down upon one puny little slave.

Her lenses acknowledged the form of Kirie - she was grateful her translator was able to pick up ORSL, for all the meager signing Lirka knew was old warrior speak, and of course, incredibly useless for anything but violence. She waited a brief moment before responding, today demanded the utmost of caution.

"Nothing good."

She spoke bluntly, Lirka certainly had many...end results for the various meats that ended up in her labs. Cyberized beasts, hulking many-limbed freaks, meager and hunched Pawns. Or from a certain point of view, the kindest of results: spare parts.

Her bluntness continued on, if she was going to keep the veneer of friendliness she needed to act about as "normal" as Lirka Ka could ever muster. The web of politics was her normality after all, and with said politics certainly came the fraticide of sithhood.

"They will survive. If not, I invoke the Butcher King's wrath and suffer the consequences. Such is the way of Darkness."

Of course, normality also meant spouting out whatever religious whatnots she so often used as if anyone but herself and the select few believers would actually understand what it meant. She looked over the marred mess of Kirie once more...perhaps she hadn't gone far enough. All the fingers intact, organized, and precise malice was the work of villains instead of scum after all. It only reminded the Once-Sephi that she needed to delve deep into her most favored hobby of lying.

Then, the princess. Eyes now turned to Quinn Varanin as the Once-Sephi was able to reap her reward and study the royal once more. It was strange how human some of the would-be-prospects remained. She took her step through both the literal and metaphorical door. The first success. Carefully did she follow after the form of Kirie, making especially sure not to slam her helmet into anything that was built for creatures of less bulk than herself. Whatever humor Lirka found in the mess and the signs of misery was quickly overshadowed by that simple and radiant power, the Force was a concept that remained most foreign to Lirka Ka. But she still understood what it meant when one such as the Princess could call upon its capabilities so readily - it was a quaint reminder of why she needed to do as she did.

She felt little compulsion to interrupt the two's moment, even if the little tinkling of repulsion writhed through her foulblood. This sort of alien love had always been an unnerving thing to one such as Lirka. It was not dissimilar to the Force at the end of the day, a notion she could read about, understand from an academic and philosophical sense. But feel? An impossibility. Such things had been remade long ago.

Finally, the moment of truth. With the soft address from Quinn, Lirka was more than thankful her maimed helmet hid whatever expression was on her face. She allowed her armored body to speak, to speak of hesitancy. An uncharacteristic fear from the hulking warlord, for that awkward moment, she stood there in silence before Lirka Ka fell to one knee. Head bowed in shame, in submission: a veneer that would bring about the Once-Sephi's own silent agony. She simply "could not bear" to look the princess in the face she spoke, slowly, letting the fear of a Dark Lord trickle from every word.

"I'm sorry, Princess. I have failed you, dearly. I take full responsibility for what has transpired here today...it was my warriors who have brought such agony upon your home. I gave them a leash too loose, I did not expect such...butchery against your servant. Reckless and unrelenting hate against all who had broken the chains of our station."

She was thankful she had quickly caught herself from saying Pet instead of servant. The monstrous metal creature shirked, pure shame and humiliation radiated from her dark segmented plates.

"Yes. I found the girl. Though...not by intent. A happy accident, as I tracked the traitors. When I learned from where she hailed, I acted as quickly as I could. But I am sorry, Princess. I was not fast enough..."

It was probably the most Lirka had said sorry in the last 40 years. She finally looked up, slowly, slit lenses falling upon the Princess's small form as if she were gazing at Carnifex himself. Acting had always been something of a popular endeavor upon Thustra. She spoke again, the shakiness gone and replaced with the resolution of a solider.

"I accept my punishment with humility and understanding, your grace. I only wish to offer you the little reassurance that the interlopers are dead, and their suffering great before."

Now, the field test. She had studied what she could, now was her chance to finally see just what kind of Sith she was dealing with. It was not often Lirka exposed herself to such a potential wound, but she was confident that unlike poor Kirie - she could fix herself.

 

[Kirie]

Kirie had thought herself prepared for returning to Quinn, but the house immediately threw her. A rush of emotions hit her all at once. It dusty, and slightly disorganised, distinctly un-neat. By Varanin household standards, it was in complete disarray. Part of Kirie felt glad to know she was so needed. That without her presence, and with the fear of her fate hanging over the house, things grew disordered.

The other, stronger part of her felt worried, even a little guilty. Even though that was silly- She'd had no control over her kidnapping- It was impossible to ignore how much Quinn had suffered in her absence. A third part of her was already taking note of the various chores that needed to he done. She would set the house right. Scrub its fine wood floors and dust its many shelves and fixtures, run laundry and unload dishracks until it became their perfect oasis again. That thought, at least, was comforting.

And then her eyes fell upon Quinn, and she wanted to say something, but of course she couldn't, and she knew that Quinn's heart would shatter when she realised what had happened. So instead she let the moment lie, and stood there with tears gathering in her eyes, letting herself be pulled into a quick embrace, relishing the feeling of Quinn's hand gently brushing her hair from her eyes. It took a moment to register why, but she realised it wasn't just because she'd missed her love. It was because it was the first gentle touch she'd had since her abduction.

Lirka may have been a saviour and rescuer, but she was also a rather stiff and emotionless soldier. Even a few moments of tenderness was nearly enough to break her. And she couldn't break yet, at least not until Lirka dropped her off.

"Lirka, did you… Did you find Kirie for me?"

Kirie also turned to Lirka, though she remained less than an armlength from Quinn, suddenly fearful to be too far away from her. How strange to think of her as the one who's saved her. This brute of a Kainite. Or was she? Lirka's alliegances were muddy at best, and judging by her actions since her rescue, Kirie was facing the reality that she had sorted the woman into the wrong box. She was the closest thing that passed for a hero in Sith space.

But I am sorry, Princess. I was not fast enough..."

Kirie felt the eyes fall upon upon her. The unspoken question in Quinn's eyes, the unreadable intensity of Lirka's gaze. This was it then, the moment she showed her. She let Lirka's apologies lie for a moment, turning her full attention to her love, raising her hands to sign.

'Quinn. I'm okay. I promise you that I am okay. I got hurt and I lost my voice. But I'm okay.' Unfortunately, Kirie knew there was nothing she could say that would make Quinn believe that. Instead she pulled her close and wrapped her arms tight around her again. So Quinn could feel that she was there, that she was back, that she was whole. Reluctantly, she released Quinn and turned back to Lirka.

'You have nothing to apologise for, Lirka, and there'll be no punishment.' Kirie gave a grateful smile. 'If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be here. We owe you our thanks.'

Quinn Varanin | Lirka Ka ​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Lirka Ka //: Kirie //:

So that was the price of her failure. Not Lirka's, Quinn's.

The Princess didn't speak as she let Lirka and Kirie share what had happened to the best of their abilities. Kirie's hand moving quickly, the Echani was able to glean what was being said even without knowing the language the girl was signing. Her body spoke enough to the Echani that she didn't need to know.

Kirie had stepped into the role of the royal—accepting responsibility, claiming there would be no punishment. Either the girl knew the Princess better than Quinn had thought, or she was determined to protect her savior. Still, Kirie wasn't wrong. There wouldn't be punishment. Lirka deserved praise and favor. She had found and returned the most precious source of Quinn's happiness.

Something that Quinn couldn't accomplish on her own. While she had lost Kirie, she had lost Kaila in the same breath. For the first time in a long time, Quinn was alone.

She cleared her throat, a hand reaching and caressing gently against Kirie's arm almost to calm her and reassure her.

"Kirie is right," Quinn started, closing whatever distance Kirie had created.

"No punishment. What you did was something no one else could have done. I'm in your debt, Lirka Ka." Quinn, for the first time, bowed her head towards the towering Selphi. The Elf had not only been there for her when Alina had broken her, but she had returned Kirie safely.

"Let me know if I can provide you with anything. My support for your endeavors is endless."

A dangerous promise, but Quinn couldn't think of anything that would compare to Kirie's rescue and return. Looking at the girl, Quinn noticed the change on her neck. Whatever had happened, whoever had taken her voice did quite the number.

Tilting her head, she let her gaze trail from Kirie back to Lirka.

"You said they worked under you?" Quinn inquired—if anyone would know what had happened, it would be Lirka. However, the Sith were known to collect and utilize. Not properly vetted.

"Do you know anything that they would have had access to? Sith alchemy? Dathomiri witchcraft?"

The latter hurt to say, knowing that the person she could have inquired about is no longer speaking to her. The pain of that severed connection still lingered. A hand rose to her brow as that trauma began to surface—raw and uninvited.

She hadn't felt a severance before, but if it was something she was going to have to suffer through, Quinn hoped it would never happen again.

"I'm sorry to be asking you so many questions. Please take a seat - I'd like to know more about what happened on the rescue." Quinn waved a hand towards the seating area. She reluctantly released Kirie as she turned towards the open kitchen.

"I'd like to know as much as possible. I want to get to work soon to help Kirie find her voice again. Also," She paused as she reached up, trying to grab some of the higher-up mugs.

"I want to honor you. And I want my parents to hear your story."

 

[Lirka Ka]

Kirie wasn’t entirely wrong, to categorize Lirka Ka as a mere Kainate brute was a mistake - yet it was a perception, a veneer, the Once-Sephi brought upon herself willingly. Few gave a brute much mind. Such was to be the undoing of stagnation. Nay Lirka Ka was no brute, she was a monster. She was evil. The sort of warped and repugnant zealotry that brought one to perspectives so maligned that the mere prospect of approaching the Princess without her maimed lover at Lirka’s side had been an impossibility.

Yet, in that monstrous perspective most-warped. Lirka Ka was a hero, in her own way. Not in the shrouds and shadows she had casted upon the girl’s mind - a hero for the worthy, a hero of the dark path of survival demanded by the Darkness beyond Darkness. A cruel hero, a hero of boundless sadism and ravenous masochism in equal measure. A hero that would see the Galaxy suffer, if for only to herald about the transcendence of a single soul.

For now, the monster allowed a brief moment of silence. The mood of the room hung - she needed a chance to take it all in. To processes the wondrous variables Quinn Varanin had gifted to her in Lirka’s endless calculus of power within the Order. The curious little things, the pet allowed to speak first - and with such confidence, a thing Lirka certainly never would have allowed. Debts. Oaths. The card of love revealed, it was a vulnerable card. Disgustingly human. In the vaguest of ways she understood, there was a loneliness that came with love. Loneliness had chipped away at what little sanity remained in Lirka’s mind for plenty long, briefly had it been melded by the return of her daughter and yet that spark had been brief - yet another reminder of the necessity of cold cruelty upon the path. Perhaps that is why she thrashed as she did, in those horrible and petty ways - she loathed those who possessed what she could not.

Pettiness could usually give way to strategy though. The Princess’s variables made for a worthwhile distraction, she had revealed her weakness. Compassion, and a pitiful, fragile, woman from Weik that allowed a wound deeper than any blade could muster. She had to stop herself from chuckling - how long till another of the Sith bastards noticed it? How long till another monster cruel enough sunk in their blade?

For now, humility was her ally. She did not need the girl’s power - not yet at least. She merely needed her ear, and that minuscule chance to see all this power put to proper use.

“Your grace is appreciated, liege. I am undeserving of your kindness - nay, I can accept no reward. For all I have done is my duty.”

Yet debt? Debt was most useful. Debt to the devil was a certifiably dangerous thing to have…

Lirka coveted knowledge. And the knowledge of the vast interpersonal relations of the Princess would have pleased her to no end - with Anathemous out of the picture, that backstabbing would-be-assassin it gave Lirka a much freer reign to act. To lie. To do all those things she loved to do most.

The greatest of lies held modicums of truth.

“They were my warriors, this is shamefully correct.”

Opportunity was presenting itself. Boldness was her ally, if the girl foolishly trusted her - such a thing needed to be abused.

“The possibilities are vast…yet, the most likely answers bring an even deeper shame to my being. As I traced the traitors path, it began from thievery within my labs - it is likely my own work that has maimed your handmaiden.”

The truth was just as useful as a lie sometimes. The depth of that truth? The girl certainly didn’t need to know - all Lirka needed to do was present opprotunity.

“If you are so willing, Princess, in my efforts to correct my failings. I offer my services in attempt to remedy what has befallen the girl - I would not trust anyone else in this Empire to operate upon my designs without the potential activation of grave consequence.”

She spoke in the vagueness of a scientist that’d expect any random part of Sith society to know the sort of cruelty that went into the flesh-craft: and the various fail safes one could put into an unfortunate soul.

Awkwardly, Lirka looked to the seats within the home. She approached if for no other reason that kindness, but the metallic brute decided to stand. An unspoken courtesy - rarely did the woman ever expect something to actually hold the weight of her power suit. Poor Kirie had suffered enough for now - didn’t need to make the girl clean up the splinters of a shattered chair.

“I take no offense to the questioning - it is your right, Princess. I will offer what answers that I can.”

The monster shifted some, slightly. As if there was something she wanted to say, though could not. A subtle thing - she wanted to see if the Princess was particularly apt at reading body language. There were yet layers deeper to delve, words that was best shared between two.

“I am underserving of such honors. Had your fellow arrived unharmed, perhaps. But I could not accept such a thing in good conscience.”

As if Lirka Ka had a conscience.