Lonely Souls Like Us

[Kainan Wolfe]

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Attn: [member="Lierin"]​

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• Nar Shaddaa
  The maze of streets of the Smuggler's Moon

Uniformed and armored soldiers made a corridor for their leader to pass through, insuring that he would go unchallenged to his destination. No one dared disturb them, for even here, the infamous death squads of the Blackwatch were well known and even the most hardened of criminals would think twice before messing with them, out of mere curiosity. Besides, above the planet hung a massive battlecruiser which would rain down death and destruction if the VIP below were to be harmed.

The man was Darth Tacitus, an individual shrouded in mystery and speculation, for very little was known about his past and much less about his plans for the future. Very, very few were even aware that he once called this vile, wretched trash heap of a planet home, even fewer knew that those were some of the happiest years of his life, a brief moment of joy in an otherwise painful and lonely existence filled only with pain, vengeance and a singular purpose overriding everything else.

Tacitus was once a man called Kainan Wolfe and before that, he was called something else. Now, he was a powerful Sith Lord and one of the most influential men in the galaxy, who ruled a nation and commanded fleets and armies that could bring a world like Nar Shaddaa to its knees.

Yet he did not return to this world out of any misplaced sense of nostalgia. He was here to recruit another agent for his cause, a young slicer by the name of Lierin, for these days, his mysterious cause was all that mattered and he was always on the lookout for skilled individuals to recruit to his side.

A soldier, one of the ten Wolfguards who were always at his side, knocked on the door to the girl's ramshackle dwelling, the other guards flanking their master, ready to defend him from any attack. The master himself, was an imposing figure, perhaps in his mid twenties, or early thirties, who wore an immaculate uniform that bore the trappings of rank, overlayed with a medieval-looking cloak with fur trimming on the shoulders and upper back, which nevertheless gave him a regal appearance, like a warlord from ages long since passed.

His piercing, cold blue eyes, which seemed to strip every lie away and gaze into a person's very soul, to judge, measure and if need be, condemn it, waited for the girl to open the door in silence.

 

[Lierin]

Nar Shaddaa - The maze of streets of the Smuggler's Moon - [member="Darth Tacitus"]

The knock upon the door of the ram-shackled dwelling went unanswered, leaving the men simply standing there for a good moment before footsteps were heard behind them. They were shuffled and slight, but anyone with keen hearing could pick up her approach. The scent was what followed next and it wafted from the over-sized hooded coat the small female wore, it was a mixture of garbage, dust, and the staleness of smog and body odor. She'd come to a halt, dropping a bag that had been slung over her shoulder to the ground with a heavy thud before she drifted her gaze over those that had come knocking at her humble home.

She appeared to be a roundish blob of layered clothing topped off with a heavy hood that covered nearly all her face when she had it tugged down, but allowed for her long silvery hair to drape down around her features; which were all practically hidden in some fashion. Her fingertips and nails were stained black, and the ratty pair of boots she wore were caked in something that looked like mud. What was seen of her face was marred with the grime of the slums she called home, but it would be her eyes that stood out the most from under the hood she wore; one black iris and the other violet.

She stood there a few moments before she began to walk towards her door, dragging the bag behind her as she did, to which it left a trail of blackish fluid and finally the smell of oil came; having been hidden by the first stench of the young woman's mere presence. "Come to talk business or contracted to kill?" The girl asked in a monotone voice as she walked past the guards and stood beside her door. She peered to each of them before her eyes settled upon Darth Tacitus, and it was there they lingered with her expressionless face. The gaze she returned to the man wasn't quite hollow, but more so distant, and the bags under her eyes only exaggerated that; as if she had seen far, far too much already at her age.