Duel Primordial | Kirie Corsell vs Lirka Ka

[Kirie]

PRIMORDIAL

Jutrand

| Lirka Ka |

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Kirie Corsell's mind was unraveling. She had unpicked something awful, something appalling, from the tangled ball of string that made up her memory. In her hurry to scrub her mind clean, in the manner that had become habit of late, the whole mess had come undone. Maybe, she had pushed that particular memory-washing technique a bit far. Maybe, she had just been heavy-handed this time. She didn't know, but what was obvious now was that a fog had descended upon her mind, her thoughts had become disjointed, and the world around her had become dreamlike and unreal.

In her fast-closing window of clarity, Kirie had only a single remaining goal:

Revenge.

The landing legs of the shuttle dug into the soft ground of the lawn. Kirie unstrapped the harness and rose silently from her seat. She closed her eyes, senses expanding outward to the rhythm of her breathing, searching for the hulking, aberrant signature hiding in the stillness of the evening. Though she could not yet feel her, she knew that she had to be close.

Kirie had left Belazura with nary an explanation. Anet Raine , ever the reliable enabler, had paved her way to Jutrand, and Kirie had spent the journey alternating between staring at the wall, throwing up, and lying, catatonic, on the cold durasteel floor panelling. When the ugly rock that was Jutrand came into view, she stirred, and stood up, wiped the fear and repulsion and grief from her heart, and calmly went about her preparations.

She left the hate, though. Anet would have told her to leave the hate.

The block where she had landed had been carefully chosen. It was a place significant to the two of them only. The place where her long ascent to freedom and happiness had been arrested, and she had begun the long and slow slide to destruction. Well, she was not destroyed yet.

Unsure exactly why she was doing it, Kirie's fingers dug out her communicator, opening a channel she had deliberately left closed for more than a year. Her fingers hovered over the input in a moment of indecision, but after a few moments, she sent the message with a resigned and fatalistic sigh. It was unpleasant, really, what she had done. Probably necessary only for herself, and yet it still felt like a knife to the gut. She read over the message:

To <3782626384826279472> Quinn Varanin
From <761628283836269263> Kirie Corsell

"It was Lirka Ka. Just thought you would want to know."​

It was unforgivable to tell her like that, but maybe what she was about to do would be apology enough.

With a swipe, Kirie closed the channel and secreted the device back into a deep pocket. She left the shuttle. It rose into the night air, leaving her alone on the street, shivering a little in the sudden chill.

Kirie stowed her hands in her robes, fingers curling around an ornate hilt, a gift given to her not far from where she stood now. Fitting that she should use it tonight. Correct, in some cosmic way.

With her hands pressed to the saber like a talisman, Kirie waited for Lirka to answer the call.

 

[Lirka Ka]

JUTRAND

Politics was messy at the best of times. But Sith politics? Oh that was a whole different beast. Lirka had buried herself in the muck of Sithly machinations for decades, and she had gotten what she wanted from this most recent bout. How grand was a single sniveling casualty like Kirie in the Dark Path that would extend for millennia?

But perhaps, Lirka had underestimated the girl. She had seen her among the coreward marauders, maybe she was even a fighter now. A variable of note. She intended to find out.

Lirka was a predator, maddened by suffocating paranoia. It was not often she was surprised - she saw assassins in every shadow. But every assassin, an opportunity: the weak were to be weeded from the worthy, every weapon could be turned to malign ends with the right…motivations.

Lirka Ka was a monster of many quirks one of them being, despite her mighty metal bulk, the ability to move with odd silence. But her presence gave her away first, always: the meager whisper in the force, trying to scream. The vague ripples of the Dark Side now emanating from her being as she gorged herself in hidden places.

“Kirie-Corsell-of-Weik.”

The words purred out across the horizon, there was a humor in them. It was not a common occurrence for one to seek the Once-Sephi out, and those that did rarely did so for peaceful reasons.

“My, how long it has been since you walked behind our wall.”

Thump. Thump. Thump. No more silence. Heavy metal footfalls upon the earth, the glimmer of metal plate in the shining lights of Jutrand. That blank-faced helm, glowing slit-lenses that glared with an intensity that transpirsteel shouldn’t.

At a first glance, she was even unarmed as she approached. Clawed hands clasped behind her back…though were it ever so simple with a woman who kept enough shivs hidden upon her person to the entire Assembly.

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