Really edgy
Golbah City......
Lirka had been to the place before, it had rubbed her wrong: reminding her far too much of Nar Shadda or one of those other overindustrilized waste-bins of the Galaxy. Where all the trash came to go and play together with knives and blasters while hiring out bigger trash (like herself during her mercenary days) to take care of the ones with scarier guns and knives. A cycle that could drive her mad just by thinking about it.
But things were different now.
She was a “Confederate Gal’” you could call it, signing herself up for the Iron Crusade she was now a Military Commander, she was running her own small army now. It made her laugh, almost at least. Golbah city was not just another trash-heap she’d run away from this time, not for a decade or two she hoped. Already putting herself on the line for the CIS multiple times had really given her that sense of loyalty some smelly and greasy crime-boss tossing her some credits never could.
That loyalty was why she was here now even, back from risking her life for the CIS another time over. Her armor had been beaten up again, the heavy repairs that had been needed after almost dying on Kamino had ruined much of the finer intricacies within the armor. For no matter how far a Sephi was from home, no matter what path they took, one thing always called to them: the arts.
Her armor was art, even if it was hard to tell that sometimes. And such need for art had taken her to digging around Golbah city for somewhere she could sit down among other folk like herself: going around the risking their lives in the many conquests (she refused to call them anything else) of the Confederacy, the military folk like herself. The “proper” members of the Confederacy (for Lirka’s own views always had become so shrouded by raw violence) She had no interest in interacting with rabble today. And such art needed to be mended.
Finding herself something to sit down on, she had snagged herself a fusion cutter with some fancy words and muscle. A bit blunt, but she turned it down to incredibly low power and went to work, small carvings being placed onto her breastplate which now rested down on her legs. That ever rare sight of Lirka without being clad head to toe in her genderless plates, even her helmet now rested off to one side.
For those making their way through the base they were given both the unknowingly rare sight of Lirka in such a form, hunched over her armor. But also that even pleasant sound of industrial tools going to work, and even more pleasant the smell of a fusion cutter making it’s way through metal.