Private Credits make the Galaxy Go Round

[Lirka Ka]

Politics took people to the strangest places.

In Lirka’s case, it was right back into the arms of the underworld. Dirty money. Things untraced for whatever dark deeds the Once-Sephi was plotting. The underworld was a place of opportunity, a place riddled with greedy souls that cared little for sniveling morality. Cold, hard, credits ran the Galaxy and these people understood it best.

It was the Hutt Cartel who Lirka had decided to present her prowess before - the Chantin Kajidic and their shrewd leader Whottoomuzz Chantin

Lirka was a slaver more prolific, and was certain she could find something in her vast collection of stolen meat that would woo the Hutt’s mind. Slowly did the metal goliath approach the Hutt’s throne room, her metal footfalls echoing through the halls as a massive box of black metal hummed behind her on repulsors. It did not take a genius to guess what laid inside, a trophy, a prize, sample product

Soon, as the Once-Sephi finally came before the mighty Hutt. She put a fist to her heart and gave an elaborate bow, was always poignant to put on a nice display after all. Her words rang out, undistorted by her blank-faced helm and instead letting the thick accent of Thustra shine through instead.

“Thank you, Great One for allowing me the chance to meet with you.”

Today, she would be Lirka Ka the scum, not Lirka Ka the Imperial. And unfortunately for her, that meant playing suck-up to the Hutt’s and their cartel.

 

[Whottoomuzz Chantin]

The throne room of Whottoomuzz's luxurious Yacht-class cruiser was opulent and vaguely imperial.

The new business venture, a slaver of imperial origin, though operating either independently or simply undercover, was still a profitable opportunity regardless. Dear Xoff Chantin was among the best info brokers in the underground - one of the sole reasons the previous Hutt had permitted their marriage.

Regardless of their motive for keeping secret, letting them keep their proverbial mask on served all parties best. No need to reveal your cards until they are played.

"Chowbasa, do uba vota jee-jee wa mo gootu an banka bargon."

With a wave Whottoomuzz invited the newcomer to display what they wished to show the Hutt as a tray of drinks and a glass aquarium of love Klantooine Paddy Frogs were brought as refreshments, though he suspected the helmeted individual will not partake in the frogs. More for him.

Besides, anyone with opportunities for business was welcome to entreat the Hutt, so long as they kept etiquette and paid the proper respects as this one had.

"Boska stuka da parchaa"

Lirka Ka​

 

[Lirka Ka]

It had been a long, long, time since Lirka had been graced with the raw opulence of the Hutt Cartel. In the lands of Sithdom everything was all dreary dark metal, braziers, statues, and other things suitably grim, dark, and dirty. It was a nice change of scenery, really.

Yet it remained the same, tracing the path Lirka Ka walked was a recipe for insanity. Lirka Ka served Lirka Ka, and what served the Once-Sephi on any given day was anyones’ guess. Some days the Empire, some days Carnifex, some days Force-only-knows-what. But today? Today Lirka Ka served cold, hard, credits.

She wanted to respond to Whottoomuzz Chantin in the Hutt’s own tongue, but the words felt trapped at her lips. And unfortunately, the Once-Sephi settled for continuing in basic. In the long years of life and undeath it seemed she had lost her linguistic prowess in Huttese.

At the beckon of the Hutt’s hand, Lirka gave the crime lord a sharp nod. He had suspected right, as refreshments arrived Lirka partook in neither: the helmet stayed on, almost always. Besides, some prattling about primordial dark meant Lirka only really partook in nutrient slurry and the occasional person for her refreshments.

The box of black iron hissed and whirred as it unfurled itself to reveal the contents inside: a plethora of stasis pods, holding the bound figures of all manners of unfortunate souls: Yuzzem, Twi’Lek, Vortixx, human and near-human alike. None had been spared by the shackles of the Kainate, none had been spared by the boundless hunger for suffering that Lirka Ka possessed. Some of the unfortunate souls showed signs of…modification. Decranination, weapon arms, muscles that bulged in unnatural ways: modifications for violence, and obedience alike. While Lirka’s face may have been hidden away the slab of beskar that made up her mask, it didn’t take a genius to fathom how chuffed the Once-Sephi was with her little collection here.

“Merely a fraction of what my holds possess, Great One. Far and wide have I scoured the Galaxy, far and wide do me and my warfleet ravage the chaos of the Galaxy taking what we please.”

Glowing lenses starred at the Hutt, they oozed anticipation, ambition, and greed.

“Grand plunder that I wish to share with you, Great One. Labor, combat, entertainment, nutrition, no life form is outside of my grasp.”

Now came that ever poignant moment: would the Hutt actually be interested in what this strange armored monster had to offer.

 

[Whottoomuzz Chantin]

Slaves - the most versatile of commodities. The goods that Lirka brought were specialized, modified. On one hand, likely done so for increased effectiveness in particular areas. On the other, less malleable to adjust for shifts in market demand. He doubted he could turn a weaponized creation into a dance if the prices swayed.

Perhaps they would be better served as direct Cartel property instead of of a commodity. A demonstration was in order - the Hutt's interest clear in his tone, more evaluating.

"Stuka je haku da modified shag yatuka."

The stakes - and the potential profits - had been raised. Whottoomuzz leaned forward for a better look. He was no longer making a trade deal, but evaluating a personal purchase.

Higher scrutiny, and higher value - if they proved to be worth the costs of the modifications and not simply the waste product of a techno-sadist's hobby.

Suffering was inconsequential to the Hutt - Utility, loyalty, and value would be what swayed his decision.

Lirka Ka​

 

[Lirka Ka]

Lirka was a woman of very…particular…tastes. And the brutish modifications of many of her slaves showed it. Lirka believed in labor, and combat. Not a particularly surprising thing coming from some freak that wore a power-suit nigh constantly. It left Lirka sitting somewhere between an arms dealer, and a slaver.

Yet, one didn’t do good business without being at least a little flexible when the need arose. Loathe as the Once-Sephi was to contribute to what she deemed, wastes of good meat.

As Whottoomuzz Chantin demanded a demonstration, Lirka let a grin grow beneath her mask. Just what she had hoped for. Words barked from Lirka’s helmet, while she may have forgotten how to speak Huttese: she had not forgotten how to speak the foul language of the Sith. A stasis chamber deactivated, and with a sharp command an unfortunate Yuzzem came to life.

The thing walked on limbs that seemed to nearly struggle to hold the immense power nested within. The top of the massive furry creature’s head replaced with the black metal and wiring more befitting of a droid rather than a living thing, tubes pumped the glimmering liquid of combat stimulants into the alien’s veins, and most prominent of all: one of the creature’s forearms had been replaced by the metal mass that was a hefty Vibroaxe and the weapons housing. The thing moved by each barking command of Lirka, control of its body totally lost to the mechanisms in its head.

“A simple Decranination. Individuality replaced by total obedience, not dissimilar to a battle droid really. Yet, infinitely less fiddly: I’m sure you understand as well as I do, Great One. Flesh is so much cheaper than metal. And of course, there is no need to fret, it would be an effortless thing to reprogram the system for Huttese. Mercenaries demand pay, my monsters do not. Mercenaries feel pain, fear, regret - my monsters do not.”

Evidently, Lirka thought highly for her patch-worked freaks. The lenses looked to the Hutt once more, and now Lirka took the chance to ask her own question. He had asked for a demonstration after all, and was showing how a flesh-droid could dance to its master’s tune really a good demonstration?

“Perhaps a proper test is in order, Great One? My monster, against one of your guards. Is there any demonstration better than bloodshed?”

Lirka kept her composure well, but there was an eagerness behind the Once Sephi’s words at the thought of blood being spilt.