Imperator
Lirka was an odd beast at the best of times. Her machinations were often an ethereal thing that danced between the tangibility of reality and the boundless potentiality of the mind. Yet, within it all perhaps there was something far more simple. She was a probing claw, prodding and seeking for an understanding of those worthwhile individuals who called this Empire their home. Standouts, variables for the future. Even someone as meager as
Jacen Breska
burned brightly in her eyes, for troopers and lords alike were cast beneath her watchful gaze. To earn his allegiance was a lofty goal, an impossible one. She'd have tried it anyway, for such was the nature of a priestess and her endless droning preaching - but in the end, she didn't need allegiance. She didn't need agreement. She needed to lay that seed and compel those around her to transcend into something better. Be it by her word and the warnings of the Primordial Darkness beyond, or by mere spite. The worthy merely needed to transcend, was dear Breska worthy? She wasn't so sure yet. He had the makings of potential, if nothing else.
"I could tell you my plans. You wouldn't understand them, not truly. Our minds measure time in different ways, Warrior Breska. I believe in... long-term investment. So I will let you tell me, what am I doing?"
There was a fire in the man, a conviction. She could respect it, even it was misplaced. Now all Lirka needed to do was wait, and wait, and wait. Then, like all of the prospects, he would tumble, he would suffer, and then? Well...perhaps they would all understand that old Lirka Ka was perhaps not as insane as she seemed on first pass.
Her clawed hands clasped together now, the fiery passions of before had been replaced by a radiating humor. Maybe she was just egging him on, maybe she wasn't.
"It does seem that way from down below, doesn't it? What's the difference between a Kainite, an Eternalist, a Tsis'Kaar when all you have is a blaster in hand...we who are the disunified whole, and the marching men and women that keep it all afloat. So many strands in the web, so many monsters that would call themselves gods. One spark...we devolve into warlordism."
Lirka Ka didn't need to win. That was the true crux of the issue. She fought her own war, a war she would share with reality itself. The endless war of attrition against Darkness Beyond Darkness - a war that was impossible to win.
"Primordial Darkness is the beginning, it is the end. It is the cosmic force that compels all things to cease, and the force that shall compel us - when the day comes - to die. You call it scripture, I call it a warning. I call it the clarion call to give the Galaxy a fighting chance - let the worthy rise up, let the weak wither away into the darkness. Down the drain, while the strong keep swimming, swimming, swimming, till they can't anymore."
She leaned forward, amusement once again becoming a grim intensity.
"Ahhhh, you think me a traitor? A rebel? Nay, Jacen Breska. I am a loyal servant of this Empire, for this Empire is the perpetuation of suffering into infinity. Yet an Empire unchanging is the breeding ground of stagnation, stagnation is to invite the end. What makes me different? Because I am the savior, I am the guiding hand for the lost and the meager. I am the one who has seen the Darkness Beyond Darkness and know what is necessary for the cruel path of survival. It makes me a monster, doesn't it, Warrior? As cruel, as awful as any Sith? One day, in your most meager of moments, when all seems lost, when the cold grasp of the end reaches around your being. You will be given a choice, a choice to die, a choice to fight."
She continued.
"You are not the first I have spoken to, nor will you be the last. There are many prospects, I intend to see them all. Including your numbered compatriot, once we are concluded."
She leaned back now, pleasantly content. For a moment she let his words hang in the air, then she rose from her seat once more. That massive metal bulk looming over the man was she about to lash out? Lirka had already considered all the ways she could turn the poor trooper into a red mush the janitors would be cleaning for days
"No gods. No messiahs. Just men."
She spoke somewhere between a religious mantra and agreement.
"Your checkup is concluded, Warrior. You have answered in such a way to prove you are a true and loyal servant of this Empire and the ways of our Emperor."
She was back to talking like this was some sort of official routine instead of her own prodding. Then, a jesting taunt.
"You'd make a wonderful Sith, Jacen."
It was a rare occasion Lirka ever spoke in such...normality. If he was to be frightened by the fact, or honored, was anyone's guess. She began to make her way for the door now, though as she passed, a clawed finger, sharp as a scalpel, flicked out to run across his cheek as she passed him. Her words oozed a taunting venom, a murderous eagerness.
"I look forward to that day you try to kill me, Jacen Breska. We shall see if you succeed, or if you too will succumb."
With that, the goliath exited from where he had arrived. She certainly knew how to make a first impression.