Lark
Saint of the Damned
One could easily lose themselves in the lower levels of Coruscant, where hedonism and vile frivolity took reign. Men and women who lost themselves to drugs or drink lay on the outskirts of popular bars and lounges, where others continued to indulge their enslaving pleasures despite the dregs crawling around outside serving as a warning. Criminals of all variety corralled and conspired against each other, everyone plotting to enrich their lives just a little bit more. It was a truly rapturous game to play, the tides of control were constantly shifting. One could be on top of the world one moment, and the next be left amongst a bundle of cold bodies in some forgotten alley, with only rats for company. If one wanted to vanish from the face of the galaxy, this was a perfect destination.
But no one could run from Lark forever. Not even here.
He strolled through the underbelly of Coruscant, briefly drifting away from a local collection of nightclubs and cafes. Here, away from the constant action and excitement, was where the true scum hid. Always watching, making sure their profits continued to pour in and that no one dared to make a move against them. One wouldn't be able to tell by looking at some of the buildings, they looked so abused and consigned to oblivion, it was as though they had grown as repugnant as the drugged souls caressing the curb of the road. But with the proper connections, someone could find the gem that hid within the murkiness.
Outside an otherwise normal complex of apartments was a forlorn looking woman, gaze glued to the ground. Whether she served as a lookout or really was in a near comatose state, Lark couldn't say for certain. Walking up the stairs into the building, he didn't even look down at her. This was the address one of his contacts had supplied him with, and upon entry, he was greeted with fine paintings and detailed pottery looted from museums and historical sites from innumerable time periods. The walls were painted a soft blue and purple, and quiet jazz music played through the halls. Decorations like this belonged much higher up, but many who scrounged their way through filth often acquired tastes beyond what they were once able to obtain during their youths.
He carried no weaponry, and knew he was walking into a trap. After admiring the decor, Lark finally entered the door at the end of a long hallway. On the other side was a room just as ornate as the others, a grand marble piano and scented vines lended to the noble atmosphere. But the man sitting down on a royal chair was so sickeningly atrocious, one couldn't truly appreciate the rest of the room. Cigar smoke and the stench of whiskey was overwhelming, and despite adorning fine sapphire attire the man was as unkempt and slimy as a Hutt.
"Ah, about time," the man said. He was only known by his nickname, The Blue Orca. He was a renowned smuggler and mobster, and an uncanny businessman. Finance scams and trafficking, organized hits and street shakedowns, there was no level low enough for The Blue Orca. "Let's make this quick, boy. Got a paramour waiting back there for me, ain't that right honey!"
A knock on a nearby bedroom door, signaling that the two of them weren't alone. "Apologies for the wait," Lark said with a kind chuckle. "I was simply struck by some of the artwork on display. By all means, I trust we can come to an agreement that will be of benefit to us both." A little naivety, dapples of aloofness. Lark wanted the Orca to think that he was in complete, dictatorial control of their meeting. He had information that Lark wanted, so he pulled all the strings.
A sleazy smile slithered onto The Blue Orca's greasy face. "Right, so you've been looking for someone in one of my clubs, that so? Assim Papirs, did some slave trading out near some of those old Mandalorian territories. Yep, got a lot of those kinda refuges comin' here. Piss too many people off, you need some place to hide. Well, you're in luck my friend! One of my bouncers spotted your buddy enjoying the presence of a few dancers at a club of mine not far from here."
"Oh? That is good news," Lark feigned. "As we agreed, if he's brought to me, there's a large sum of credits waiting for transport to any location of your choosing."
"Not so fast kid. Papirs, he's been doin' some good work for me. Got a good ear on him, that one does. And quite a quick mouth. He's told me all about you, Sith. He don't know why you're after him, and I don't much care." The Blue Orca spread his arms wide, another gesture of control. "But like ya said, we can both walk away winners. So, how much you willing to pay kid? I can keep your little secret safe, and we can get your guy. He's probably down at the Azure Lane right now. How'sa bout it?"
As soon as The Blue Orca demanded hush money, and a veiled offer of temporary camaraderie, he had lost the battle. Now Lark knew no one else knew about his presence, not Papirs or the rest of the Orca's thugs. He thought he could bully Lark into a partnership, and then cut him down once the job was completed. A typical mob boss behavior. Since all the information flowed out from him, no one else was kept in the loop. Without saying a word, Lark rose from his seat and went to exit the room, which caused the Orca to stir. "Hey, where the hell do think you're going? We're not done here!" Lark continued to walk, until he reached the door. He heard a gun pulled from it's holster, and a slight turn of the head confirmed that The Blue Orca had a blaster aimed right at his back.
"I'm going to the Azure Lane," Lark said softly. "You've told me everything I need to know. Thank you for your help, Londry."
Londry went pale, his sags seemed to slouch a bit more. No one in the underground knew The Blue Orca's true name. "How... how do you know that name?" Hesitation and a twinge of fear layered Londry's voice, his blaster hand wavered.
"You're a family man," Lark said, hand on the glassy doorknob. "You enjoy visiting gourmet diners with your beloved Maia, and secretly you enjoy all the romantic movies and books she forces you to share with her. Due to that kindness, she's tried very hard to develop an interest in history that rivals yours. You're such a good husband, she hardly questions these prolonged work trips you take."
The bedroom door on the other side of the room opened, the one that was knocked on earlier in their conversation. The Blue Orca's paramour lay on the bed, body cut up into a bloody mess. Sheets and bed curtains were stained red, the woman's remains would take months to be stitched completely back together. It wasn't Lark's doing, of course. Even he hadn't expected the corpse to be so savagely carved up. No, it was the doing of the woman standing in the door-frame, bloody knife still in hand.
"Maia, how did you..." Londry stared in utter disbelief. "What have you done?" Lark would never know whether that question was meant for him or his wife, for a moment later Maia pounced towards Londry, driving her knife into his throat and dropping him to the ground with a loud thud. It hadn't taken Lark long to break Maia once he revealed all her husband's secrets. She was an absolute wreck, and a few thoughts of revenge placed in her head got the job done. Londry died slowly, with his wife stabbing his chest over and over again, creating a geyser of blood. Her movements gradually slowed, and she then let out a baleful shriek. Tears streamed down her face as she brought the knife to her own neck, and as Lark left the room he heard her body fall onto his, equal in death.
Upon leaving the building, Lark took a handful of credits stolen from The Blue Orca out of his pocket. He knelt down to the woman crouched in the slums, eyes glazed with regret and despair. "Here," Lark offered. "Buy your drugs with this."
She took the money hesitantly, looking at Lark as though he were some sort of angel. And then he left, preparing for the mission at hand. Finally, Assim Papirs was near. This time, that wily little shrew wouldn't escape. "Papirs is somewhere within the Azure Lane, a series of nightclubs in the area. I've sent you all the location and a photo of his appearance. Be on alert, The Blue Orca's gang is well-armed and they've got some pretty fancy tech. I'd prefer to keep this quiet, but we should be ready for some noise. Papirs is always on high alert, he'll bail at the first sign of trouble, and we need him alive. Do what you need to do, and keep me updated. I'll be joining you shortly."
He had told them the details of the job in advance, that Papirs was a slaver wanted by the Sith for crimes against the Empire. But at the moment, they didn't need to know the finer, more personal details. Like that Papirs had stolen Lark's sister when she was barely two years old, and sold her into slavery. As long as they got rewarded for their assistance, he doubted they cared about who they were capturing or why.
Lark would do anything in order to find his sister, and at the moment Papirs was the only one who knew where she was sold to. No matter what it took, Lark would makes Papirs talk.
And the child that still hid deep within Lark's heart would sit by and watch it all happen, so strong was their shared desire for vengeance.
Kimora Min
AMCO
But no one could run from Lark forever. Not even here.
He strolled through the underbelly of Coruscant, briefly drifting away from a local collection of nightclubs and cafes. Here, away from the constant action and excitement, was where the true scum hid. Always watching, making sure their profits continued to pour in and that no one dared to make a move against them. One wouldn't be able to tell by looking at some of the buildings, they looked so abused and consigned to oblivion, it was as though they had grown as repugnant as the drugged souls caressing the curb of the road. But with the proper connections, someone could find the gem that hid within the murkiness.
Outside an otherwise normal complex of apartments was a forlorn looking woman, gaze glued to the ground. Whether she served as a lookout or really was in a near comatose state, Lark couldn't say for certain. Walking up the stairs into the building, he didn't even look down at her. This was the address one of his contacts had supplied him with, and upon entry, he was greeted with fine paintings and detailed pottery looted from museums and historical sites from innumerable time periods. The walls were painted a soft blue and purple, and quiet jazz music played through the halls. Decorations like this belonged much higher up, but many who scrounged their way through filth often acquired tastes beyond what they were once able to obtain during their youths.
He carried no weaponry, and knew he was walking into a trap. After admiring the decor, Lark finally entered the door at the end of a long hallway. On the other side was a room just as ornate as the others, a grand marble piano and scented vines lended to the noble atmosphere. But the man sitting down on a royal chair was so sickeningly atrocious, one couldn't truly appreciate the rest of the room. Cigar smoke and the stench of whiskey was overwhelming, and despite adorning fine sapphire attire the man was as unkempt and slimy as a Hutt.
"Ah, about time," the man said. He was only known by his nickname, The Blue Orca. He was a renowned smuggler and mobster, and an uncanny businessman. Finance scams and trafficking, organized hits and street shakedowns, there was no level low enough for The Blue Orca. "Let's make this quick, boy. Got a paramour waiting back there for me, ain't that right honey!"
A knock on a nearby bedroom door, signaling that the two of them weren't alone. "Apologies for the wait," Lark said with a kind chuckle. "I was simply struck by some of the artwork on display. By all means, I trust we can come to an agreement that will be of benefit to us both." A little naivety, dapples of aloofness. Lark wanted the Orca to think that he was in complete, dictatorial control of their meeting. He had information that Lark wanted, so he pulled all the strings.
A sleazy smile slithered onto The Blue Orca's greasy face. "Right, so you've been looking for someone in one of my clubs, that so? Assim Papirs, did some slave trading out near some of those old Mandalorian territories. Yep, got a lot of those kinda refuges comin' here. Piss too many people off, you need some place to hide. Well, you're in luck my friend! One of my bouncers spotted your buddy enjoying the presence of a few dancers at a club of mine not far from here."
"Oh? That is good news," Lark feigned. "As we agreed, if he's brought to me, there's a large sum of credits waiting for transport to any location of your choosing."
"Not so fast kid. Papirs, he's been doin' some good work for me. Got a good ear on him, that one does. And quite a quick mouth. He's told me all about you, Sith. He don't know why you're after him, and I don't much care." The Blue Orca spread his arms wide, another gesture of control. "But like ya said, we can both walk away winners. So, how much you willing to pay kid? I can keep your little secret safe, and we can get your guy. He's probably down at the Azure Lane right now. How'sa bout it?"
As soon as The Blue Orca demanded hush money, and a veiled offer of temporary camaraderie, he had lost the battle. Now Lark knew no one else knew about his presence, not Papirs or the rest of the Orca's thugs. He thought he could bully Lark into a partnership, and then cut him down once the job was completed. A typical mob boss behavior. Since all the information flowed out from him, no one else was kept in the loop. Without saying a word, Lark rose from his seat and went to exit the room, which caused the Orca to stir. "Hey, where the hell do think you're going? We're not done here!" Lark continued to walk, until he reached the door. He heard a gun pulled from it's holster, and a slight turn of the head confirmed that The Blue Orca had a blaster aimed right at his back.
"I'm going to the Azure Lane," Lark said softly. "You've told me everything I need to know. Thank you for your help, Londry."
Londry went pale, his sags seemed to slouch a bit more. No one in the underground knew The Blue Orca's true name. "How... how do you know that name?" Hesitation and a twinge of fear layered Londry's voice, his blaster hand wavered.
"You're a family man," Lark said, hand on the glassy doorknob. "You enjoy visiting gourmet diners with your beloved Maia, and secretly you enjoy all the romantic movies and books she forces you to share with her. Due to that kindness, she's tried very hard to develop an interest in history that rivals yours. You're such a good husband, she hardly questions these prolonged work trips you take."
The bedroom door on the other side of the room opened, the one that was knocked on earlier in their conversation. The Blue Orca's paramour lay on the bed, body cut up into a bloody mess. Sheets and bed curtains were stained red, the woman's remains would take months to be stitched completely back together. It wasn't Lark's doing, of course. Even he hadn't expected the corpse to be so savagely carved up. No, it was the doing of the woman standing in the door-frame, bloody knife still in hand.
"Maia, how did you..." Londry stared in utter disbelief. "What have you done?" Lark would never know whether that question was meant for him or his wife, for a moment later Maia pounced towards Londry, driving her knife into his throat and dropping him to the ground with a loud thud. It hadn't taken Lark long to break Maia once he revealed all her husband's secrets. She was an absolute wreck, and a few thoughts of revenge placed in her head got the job done. Londry died slowly, with his wife stabbing his chest over and over again, creating a geyser of blood. Her movements gradually slowed, and she then let out a baleful shriek. Tears streamed down her face as she brought the knife to her own neck, and as Lark left the room he heard her body fall onto his, equal in death.
Upon leaving the building, Lark took a handful of credits stolen from The Blue Orca out of his pocket. He knelt down to the woman crouched in the slums, eyes glazed with regret and despair. "Here," Lark offered. "Buy your drugs with this."
She took the money hesitantly, looking at Lark as though he were some sort of angel. And then he left, preparing for the mission at hand. Finally, Assim Papirs was near. This time, that wily little shrew wouldn't escape. "Papirs is somewhere within the Azure Lane, a series of nightclubs in the area. I've sent you all the location and a photo of his appearance. Be on alert, The Blue Orca's gang is well-armed and they've got some pretty fancy tech. I'd prefer to keep this quiet, but we should be ready for some noise. Papirs is always on high alert, he'll bail at the first sign of trouble, and we need him alive. Do what you need to do, and keep me updated. I'll be joining you shortly."
He had told them the details of the job in advance, that Papirs was a slaver wanted by the Sith for crimes against the Empire. But at the moment, they didn't need to know the finer, more personal details. Like that Papirs had stolen Lark's sister when she was barely two years old, and sold her into slavery. As long as they got rewarded for their assistance, he doubted they cared about who they were capturing or why.
Lark would do anything in order to find his sister, and at the moment Papirs was the only one who knew where she was sold to. No matter what it took, Lark would makes Papirs talk.
And the child that still hid deep within Lark's heart would sit by and watch it all happen, so strong was their shared desire for vengeance.

