Private Politics, how Tiresome

[Lirka Ka]

Saijo had been proving to be a popular destination for Lirka in recent days, in some ways it reminded her of a pitiful human-made-knockoff of Thustra and as such the planet was quickly falling out of her favor, for both reminding her of home and being much worse than home. But regardless, such pointless hatreds had to be put aside for now, with the Empire back in full swing Lirka needed to do something she hadn’t properly done in some time.

Play politics

It was a dance she did not particularly mind, swift jabs of the tongue and grandiose deceptions had a different flavor to the hacking and slashing of real battle, and ultimately was much less enjoyable. But it was an unfortunate necessity when power bases needed to be established among this new and unfamiliar gaggle of Sith and their peons.

And so did politics bring her to Desolus, Lirka moving like a phantom towards her destination: this time around, she would rather not be seen. A discussion best left with as few eyes as possible upon it, the smell of tea assailed her senses as she approached her quarry, it was almost repulsive compared to the chemical concoctions she had become so used to for sustenances….

And with that she shut off the olfactory ports on her helmet and stepped up to the home of the door, contemplating her entrance she decided on the simple and blunt approach, and let loose a handful of hard knocks on the door. Time to see if she played this gamble right.

Trayze Tesar

 

[Trayze Tesar]

Another quietly dismal day in Desolous Town, Saijo. It was strange, living by oneself-sure he had his own room (if it could truly be called "his" with all the cousins and friends that crashed there), and even during his time as a detective he had peers and acquaintances who had gone through the Academy and had the same experiences. But the Sith? ...He wasn't Sith material. Not by a long shot.

Sure he had passions, he had anger, strength, a connection to the Force-hell, he even had distant relation to the "Ancient and Illustrious House of Marr" on his grandad's side-but he never felt like...a part of the Order. Each person had their own ambition, and only collaborated when it had furthered each of theirs. While he wasn't naive, or even an optimist, it...irked him at times. The sheer arrogance of Sangir kicking down the doors, the fear of death and dying, the disregard. Before this, Trayze's life was that of public service, and he took his job seriously.

Of course, even this wasn't to say that he was rigid and immovable facet of lawbringing as he may joke, but he would have to talk to Aunt Tameera about the confirmed legality of Cassius Tea-especially if it was smuggled underneath the "care package" courtesy of his family and their own business of tea-harvesting. With a mild chuckle and a sigh, he placed the florets in a hidden place, thinking with some irony if possessing a product that was associated with the Mandalorian Enclaves would be his untimely downfall-health benefits be damned.

Tonight, he would celebrate with a classic-Bantha Chai. He dared not make his family's signature bluebutter tea, lacking a willing female Bantha, but hopefully the pasteurized stuff he got at the local grocer would be up to par. As he went through the motions, allowing himself idle thoughts whilst decompressing from a day at the Palace of the Silver Rain, hoping that the grocer's "bluemilk" was actually from a Bantha, rather than some other unfortunate mammal, and idly wondering whether he would have to engage in an honor duel over bluemilk, or if Malum would be exhausted by his casual osmosis of bantha-and-tea-related agronomics until he heard a knock at the door.

It was late, and he hadn't called for visitors. He would have groaned that Malum or some other student or caller would have interrupted him, but that would have implied that he had sensed their arrival.

It would have implied that he sensed anything at all.

The fact that he didn't wasn't lost on him, and it perturbed him greatly. It had brought terrible implications and questions-who would be so eager to send someone who was somehow beyond his Force sensing, who was so...dead? Was it Malum-some strange experiment gone horribly wrong? Was it the House of Marr that had smelt his interaction with their scion and decided to remove him quietly? Was it some third party whom he had offended? However, not all was anxiety and doom, for as far as he knew, one cannot use the Force whilst also being dead to it. Therefore, he hoped his more humble lodgings would have been enough to disguise this strange interloper from the fact he was a Sith. He was a detective for years, spent nearly his entire life dumb and deaf to the Force so near to him-if need be, he would be more than happy to take that role on a little more.

Approaching the door, he gently opened it to reveal...well, to be quite honest, he wasn't sure what he was seeing. It wasn't Malum-unless his cousin had neglected to inform him of a colossal case of gender dysphoria, or perhaps in relation to whatever alchemical blasphemy the Sith felt like expereminting with today. Though so armed and ready, he wasn't terribly optimistic-considering he wasn't sure if she (he was reasonably sure it's a female). The nasty thing about Force obstructing objects-he couldn't sense how many there were, and if she was the only one.

"...Somethin' Ah can help ya with?" he ventured, polite, but clearly far too "common" to be any noble scion or self-respecting apprentice. Yet still, there was a tenseness and he would have been dead and damned if he didn't bring his own hidden arsenal of twin Silver Heat pistols and his Acolyte's lightsaber, perfected from a decade of service.

Yet Trayze was a man who knew of things, and he didn't need the Force to tell him he was outmatched in this encounter.

---

Lirka Ka

 

[Lirka Ka]

Lirka looked him over, she was a Goliath of razor-edged metal plate and strange whirring mechanisms of no immediately obvious use. A creature that blurred the line between man and machine.

“Trayze Tesar.”

When she spoke her words were greatly distorted, coming out as a garble that masked whatever was underneath that blank-faced helm. The only hint, a strange alien accent that permeated through her words. She let his name linger in the air for a few moments, before continuing on

“I am Lirka Ka, may I enter?”

The worst part of politics, having to be polite so such…rabble. But she would play her part, and rely on the hope that this would-be-Marr and has-been-detective didn’t have much interest in War Criminals, Crooks, and Gladiators of bygone ages.

She stood deathly still, awaiting his response: the two glowing eyes of her helmet starring down at the man. Just because she was playing nice didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to flex the foulness of her metallic form

Trayze Tesar