Private Once Enemies, Now Partners

[Tork Lok]

The behemoth that was the Bes'bavar floated in space like a hulking asteroid, silent but deadly. The flagship of Clan Lok was alone for this joyride. The rest of the fleet was back in Hutt space engaging in illicit activities for their new employers. Indeed, after the reduction of Enclave activities, Tork took his clan into Hutt space. Not into Crusader space as many others had done. Clan Lok was done crusading and attempting to avenge every fall of their culture. Instead, he opted for more simpler pursuits and more enjoyable hedonistic activities.

After all, everyone loves credits.

The mighty Mandalorian star destroyer slowly patrolled in the empty of space, the nearest port of call being that of Nimban not far away. This was as close to Crusader space he felt comfortable with taking his people. Less those fanatics get ideas of recruitment or otherwise. This meeting required subtlety after all.

Echoes of beskar boots sounded throughout the large bridge as a fellow clan warrior approached his Alor. The green colors of Clan Lok decorated both of their armors and the banners of their clan hung freely across the command center and elsewhere within the ship. Tork turned from gazing out into the empty, alluring pull of space expecting an update on their soon to be guest.

"Ave, Alor. The Kainite approaches one of the hangars. One of our patrols of fighters escorted them in."

Tork Vang nodded and dismissed his brother-in-arms. Holding his helmet under his left arm and concealing one of many of his weapons on his right hip under his half cloak, he set out for the hangar bay and was eager to greet this Sith. Knowing of their reputation but short of anything else, he had hoped to secure a lucrative contract between the two. Allowing many to profit if this were to work as intended and as hoped.

Mandalorians and Sith. They were supposed to be enemies. But Tork was a pragmatic man. After all, they need not be friends or even allies.

Business was business.


Lirka Ka​

 

[Lirka Ka]

When Lirka had first gotten word that a Mandalorian of all things wanted to meet with her. She damn near choked to death from laughter, it must have been some practical joke. Some Sithling wasting her time dragging her off to the middle of nowhere, or a trap from those vengeance crazed rats. Realizing it was indeed a serious offer had brought a smile wide and cruel to the Once-Sephi’s warped face.

It made sense, Lirka had danced with the underworld for many years. She understood the illustrious call of sweet sweet credits. And besides, after her long absence from the wider Galaxy: Lirka needed new contacts.

Such was the grand arrogance of Lirka Ka, she had come alone. A single shuttle of inky blackness across the void of space. From the viewport Lirka looked out to the great bulk of the Mandalorians’ warship, the crudeness of the thing reminded her how much she detested their lot. Yet it brought back the warm and fuzzy memories of a world torn apart, bombers reducing villages to craters, miners gouging great gashes upon the surface, and the miserable toil of slaves feeding the great Imperial war machine. It was a beautiful thing.

She made no protest as the escort fighter heralded her shuttle to the hangar bay. The thing silently humming as it landed with a thud, letting out of the hiss of depressurization as the docking bay lowered itself. Slowly, with thundering footfalls, stepped out the monstrous form of Lirka Ka. A Goliath of metal armor plates and whirring mechanisms. She gleamed with plundered beskar, a reminder of her dark deeds.

Whatever the monster thought was hidden away, covered by a blank faced helmet scarred by the wounds of reforging. Her lenses, glowing green, soon fell upon the approaching form of Tork Lok and did something most unbecoming of a Sith Imperial but plenty expectable from the bravado of underworld scum, she threw her arms wide in greeting and took a few heavy metallic footfalls forward.

“Ah! Just the Mandalorian I was hoping to see.”

It was rare persona for Lirka, but business was business after all. And it paid to be “friendly”.

 

[Tork Lok]

As the shuttle touched down and finished it's landing sequence, Tork gathered not far from where the entry ramp would land onto his hard deck. Warriors from his clan gathered around in a semi-circle. Half to naturally protect their vaunted leader and the other parts of themselves being curious as to who they'd be doing business with.

Clan Lok was entering into a new enterprise and everyone was unsure as to what to expect in their new underworld. But they all remained excited and opportunistic about their new lot in life. Because now they each had something to gain and show for all their fighting outside of reclaimed glory and honor. Now they were all equal. Each earning as much as they wanted to work to get. Moral was high even among those of the clan who had preferred to join their kin in their crusade against the galaxy.

Sometimes the grass really was greener.

Tork Lok attempted to hide the look of disgust as the creature stepped down it's entry ramp with echoing footsteps. Though it was not the look or even character of the person that approached that he had issue with. He did not know nor care what they looked like and their reputation, what he knew of it, did not interest him. It was the clearly stolen armor that bothered him so and he had to put away the curiosity of how many of his kin died for them to get it.

The outstretched hands of Lirka Ka at least brought a slight smirk to the corner of his mouth. He did enjoy the bravado of his new coworkers. Tork lifted his head to match the glowing green sockets of Lirka's helmet, for even at his height this creature stood above him. He could see his warriors were on edge and so moved forward to greet their new guest and hopefully cool itchy triggers.

"Ah yes, the one and only. And you look the part of the reviled Sith I invited." Tork smiled at matching his guest' fake friendliness while testing the waters of their personality. His young but deep voice carrying across the relatively empty guest hangar. "Welcome aboard the Bes'bavar. Though I imagine you're quite familiar with Mandalorian design, are you not?"


Lirka Ka​

 

[Lirka Ka]

They danced a similar tune, though perhaps for different reasons. Clan Lok chased the same freedom from glory and honor and with it the great wealth of the underworld. The chance of a man getting filthy rich on the dirty credits that made the Galaxy churn. Lirka did not have honor, nor was her glory measured in such meager things. Nay, Lirka was here for the dismal work that was politics so difficult had it been to find a good fellow among her Sith-Imperial lot that didn't despise the Once-Sephi for her status as a Slaver, or existed as another would-be-despot chasing the path to power.

But these people? The people of the underworld? They spoke her language: pure, unbridled, greed.

Yet, that brief flash of hidden disgust on the face of Tork Lok brought a joy so deep, and so pure, to the hearts nestled within Lirka's chest. The Mandalorian very well may become her newest "associate", but it didn't mean he was totally spared from the general disgust she had for his kind. Perhaps one day, if the time was right, she would share the tale of her plundered Beskar. A tale of massive mining machines, traitors, and the soul crushing toil of the thousands of slaves lost to time.

Slowly did the Once-Sephi's helm turn to acknowledge the assembly of various warrior. It was quite the welcoming party, and for the briefest of moment she had almost wished she had brought some of her own murderers. But, for matters as poignant as these, it paid to have as few prying eyes as possible. As Tork stepped forward, Lirka followed suit with a single long stride that ended with the thud of her metal boot on the hangar floor. She looked more and more like a droid than a person. As he first spoke, Lirka raised her hand out some to correct him. Shaking her head as a low, humorless, chuckle escaped her vocalizer.

"Oh no, not a Sith. Not I. They don't accept my lot in the order, no, I am but a humble Slaver. Making her way in this cruel, chaotic, Galaxy."

Her joke was cold. Leave it to a slaver to talk about cruelty and chaos.

"Unfortunately, my friend, I am far more familiar with how Mandalorian designs break. Yet, truly an impressive assembly you have built for yourselves."

As she uttered the word Mandalorian, there was but the briefest slip in her voice. She wanted to say "rat", but fortunately caught herself. Some habits died hard, even when she put on the persona of the bravado laden, heavily armored, business woman.

 

[Tork Lok]

A fellow warrior came up to whisper something into his Alor's ear. With a nod from Tork, the young man ran off. It was indeed time to move this along. They had future opportunities to become...better acquainted. This time however, he no doubt knew they both had more pressing business to attend.

Lirka wanting off this Mandalorian warship as soon as possible and Tork waiting patiently for the same.

"Now that we have our barest of neccessary greetings out of the way..." The young but battle seasoned man gave the briefest of smirks. "Let us move onto business."

Tork turned on his heel and began to move towards the turbolift for the most awkward ride in galactic history. Or at least ranking among the top fifteen. But a awkward and silent ride would be over once they reached one of the massive ships secondary cargo holds. For as soon as the doors opened it displayed a quiet varied selection of cargo. Accompanying them were two of his warriors of took up either side of the turbolift and awaited quietly.

Stretching down before them were somewhat neat rows of various blackmarket items. Obviously, the Mandos had gone through some type of preparation to make their potential gifts seem displayable. There were cages filled with varying humanoids of varying sexes and colors, exotic beast untamed and unbroken from worlds unknown, displays of various drugs, jewelry, datapads with blackmail for any acquired taste on various folks of regional importance, materials, scraps of ships taken in battle. Whatever. It was as varied as the people now walking it's aisles.

The worth of every item differed greatly. But the point was clear; Clan Lok could get its hands on a great many things. Illegal and legal alike. But mostly illegal. Their reach was far and their ability second to none. This was a war trained Clan turned to profit making. Turning their exceptional skills to more personal uses. Whatever the Once-Sephi's opinion of them may be it was clear; Clan Lok was profitable. And a good acquitance to have.

"What say you, not Sith?" The young man walked alongside the hulking titan, gazing at the various cargo he had acquired as the sound dampening cages kept most of the noise from being audible to their ears. "See anything that might be worth establishing ties for?"

"And do note this will be mutual. Give and take. We can acquire a great many things and are looking for some...how do the politicians put it? Mutually beneficial trade pacts? Yeah, that's the term."


Lirka Ka​

 

[Lirka Ka]

A fellow warrior came up to whisper something into his Alor's ear. With a nod from Tork, the young man ran off. It was indeed time to move this along. They had future opportunities to become...better acquainted. This time however, he no doubt knew they both had more pressing business to attend.

Lirka wanting off this Mandalorian warship as soon as possible and Tork waiting patiently for the same.

"Now that we have our barest of neccessary greetings out of the way..." The young but battle seasoned man gave the briefest of smirks. "Let us move onto business."

Tork turned on his heel and began to move towards the turbolift for the most awkward ride in galactic history. Or at least ranking among the top fifteen. But a awkward and silent ride would be over once they reached one of the massive ships secondary cargo holds. For as soon as the doors opened it displayed a quiet varied selection of cargo. Accompanying them were two of his warriors of took up either side of the turbolift and awaited quietly.

Stretching down before them were somewhat neat rows of various blackmarket items. Obviously, the Mandos had gone through some type of preparation to make their potential gifts seem displayable. There were cages filled with varying humanoids of varying sexes and colors, exotic beast untamed and unbroken from worlds unknown, displays of various drugs, jewelry, datapads with blackmail for any acquired taste on various folks of regional importance, materials, scraps of ships taken in battle. Whatever. It was as varied as the people now walking it's aisles.

The worth of every item differed greatly. But the point was clear; Clan Lok could get its hands on a great many things. Illegal and legal alike. But mostly illegal. Their reach was far and their ability second to none. This was a war trained Clan turned to profit making. Turning their exceptional skills to more personal uses. Whatever the Once-Sephi's opinion of them may be it was clear; Clan Lok was profitable. And a good acquitance to have.

"What say you, not Sith?" The young man walked alongside the hulking titan, gazing at the various cargo he had acquired as the sound dampening cages kept most of the noise from being audible to their ears. "See anything that might be worth establishing ties for?"

"And do note this will be mutual. Give and take. We can acquire a great many things and are looking for some...how do the politicians put it? Mutually beneficial trade pacts? Yeah, that's the term."


Lirka Ka​

Lirka was a creature of plenty of pressing concerns. Most of which involved some sort of backstabbing, butchery, or general unkindness. Such was the nature of Sithdom though, one could suppose.

Yet, making chummy with those who should be her sworn enemies? Well that was just something of a hobby. A test in manipulation and pretty personas, but as the Mandalorian hurried her along she bemused that perhaps the time for chumminess hadn’t quite arrived. All in due time.

She followed after Tork Lok with thudding metal footsteps. Lirka did not chaff under the raw awkwardness, in fact she relished it: nothing was quite as fun as making someone just a tad uncomfortable. Nearly as good as some quality Booster Blue.

Soon, the vast cargo hold of the Mandalorians was laid bare to her. It was an impressive assortment, even if the vast many of the black market’s trinkets mattered little to one with the strength of the Malsheem’s forges at her back. Clan Lok still had something most fascinating to Lirka…

Not-Sith, the name amused her greatly. Though she didn’t show it…if only he understood just how true of a title that was.

“Oh, I see plenty that interests me.”

She spoke calmly, approaching the dampening cages and examining the unfortunate souls within. The fresh meat, the raw material for her experiments, all with none of the strings of Carnifex attached…

“An impressive assortment indeed, Mandalorian. I find myself in great need for raw materials recently, the bulkier species of the Galaxy: Yuzzem, Wookiee, Gamorrean, so on and so forth.”

She paused before continuing, beyond slaves there was something even more interesting.

“Of course, you and your lot are even more fascinating. Tell me, do you believe in all that “loyalty and honor” garbage or the cold hard truth of credits?”

Mercenaries were always a useful thing in her profession. The issue with Sith-Imperials were many, politics most of all. She could only hope the underworld were free from such nuisances. At his mention of tit-for-tat Lirka gave him a nod. Her way of doing business. Back and forth was much more profitable than merely taking.

“I have taken enough from your people. Some mutuality shall be nice to…bury the metaphorical hatchet let’s say. At my back stands the might of the Kainate, slaves, weapons, dark arts, and perhaps if we find ourselves in good relation: even Beskar.”

Might as well dangle the carrot. They had stripped Mandalore nearly clean, might as well use all that abundance as a bargaining chip.

 

[Lirka Ka]

A fellow warrior came up to whisper something into his Alor's ear. With a nod from Tork, the young man ran off. It was indeed time to move this along. They had future opportunities to become...better acquainted. This time however, he no doubt knew they both had more pressing business to attend.

Lirka wanting off this Mandalorian warship as soon as possible and Tork waiting patiently for the same.

"Now that we have our barest of neccessary greetings out of the way..." The young but battle seasoned man gave the briefest of smirks. "Let us move onto business."

Tork turned on his heel and began to move towards the turbolift for the most awkward ride in galactic history. Or at least ranking among the top fifteen. But a awkward and silent ride would be over once they reached one of the massive ships secondary cargo holds. For as soon as the doors opened it displayed a quiet varied selection of cargo. Accompanying them were two of his warriors of took up either side of the turbolift and awaited quietly.

Stretching down before them were somewhat neat rows of various blackmarket items. Obviously, the Mandos had gone through some type of preparation to make their potential gifts seem displayable. There were cages filled with varying humanoids of varying sexes and colors, exotic beast untamed and unbroken from worlds unknown, displays of various drugs, jewelry, datapads with blackmail for any acquired taste on various folks of regional importance, materials, scraps of ships taken in battle. Whatever. It was as varied as the people now walking it's aisles.

The worth of every item differed greatly. But the point was clear; Clan Lok could get its hands on a great many things. Illegal and legal alike. But mostly illegal. Their reach was far and their ability second to none. This was a war trained Clan turned to profit making. Turning their exceptional skills to more personal uses. Whatever the Once-Sephi's opinion of them may be it was clear; Clan Lok was profitable. And a good acquitance to have.

"What say you, not Sith?" The young man walked alongside the hulking titan, gazing at the various cargo he had acquired as the sound dampening cages kept most of the noise from being audible to their ears. "See anything that might be worth establishing ties for?"

"And do note this will be mutual. Give and take. We can acquire a great many things and are looking for some...how do the politicians put it? Mutually beneficial trade pacts? Yeah, that's the term."


Lirka Ka​

Lirka was a creature of plenty of pressing concerns. Most of which involved some sort of backstabbing, butchery, or general unkindness. Such was the nature of Sithdom though, one could suppose.

Yet, making chummy with those who should be her sworn enemies? Well that was just something of a hobby. A test in manipulation and pretty personas, but as the Mandalorian hurried her along she bemused that perhaps the time for chumminess hadn’t quite arrived. All in due time.

She followed after Tork Lok with thudding metal footsteps. Lirka did not chaff under the raw awkwardness, in fact she relished it: nothing was quite as fun as making someone just a tad uncomfortable. Nearly as good as some quality Booster Blue.

Soon, the vast cargo hold of the Mandalorians was laid bare to her. It was an impressive assortment, even if the vast many of the black market’s trinkets mattered little to one with the strength of the Malsheem’s forges at her back. Clan Lok still had something most fascinating to Lirka…

Not-Sith, the name amused her greatly. Though she didn’t show it…if only he understood just how true of a title that was.

“Oh, I see plenty that interests me.”

She spoke calmly, approaching the dampening cages and examining the unfortunate souls within. The fresh meat, the raw material for her experiments, all with none of the strings of Carnifex attached…

“An impressive assortment indeed, Mandalorian. I find myself in great need for raw materials recently, the bulkier species of the Galaxy: Yuzzem, Wookiee, Gamorrean, so on and so forth.”

She paused before continuing, beyond slaves there was something even more interesting.

“Of course, you and your lot are even more fascinating. Tell me, do you believe in all that “loyalty and honor” garbage or the cold hard truth of credits?”

Mercenaries were always a useful thing in her profession. The issue with Sith-Imperials were many, politics most of all. She could only hope the underworld were free from such nuisances. At his mention of tit-for-tat Lirka gave him a nod. Her way of doing business. Back and forth was much more profitable than merely taking.

“I have taken enough from your people. Some mutuality shall be nice to…bury the metaphorical hatchet let’s say. At my back stands the might of the Kainate, slaves, weapons, dark arts, and perhaps if we find ourselves in good relation: even Beskar.”

Might as well dangle the carrot. They had stripped Mandalore nearly clean, might as well use all that abundance as a bargaining chip.

 

[Tork Lok]

Tork followed along behind the hulking she-thing as she eyed the various cargo on display. Though one thing that really caught his new buyers eye were the slaves. Of course. Sith, or maybe not all Sith apparently, were interested in such things. Tork did not care for it personally but the credits paid to him by his Hutt employers made him interested enough to get involved. And while some may think he or his clan enjoyed such work?

Maybe some did. Maybe most didn't.

The creds were all that mattered.

Her questioning of his peoples culture made him furrow his brow but he understood her meaning well enough. Did Clan Lok believe in such things anymore?

"We...once did, sure. Perhaps we still do in our own internal way. Not to the extent of those of our kin rampaging angrily so near to your...Kainite was it? We're not them. We're not so zealous and blinded by our past."

As he spoke, Tork proceeded to approach a large cage towards the end of their little sight seeing tour. He proceeded to press a few buttons on a keypad which removed the visual obstructions and sound dampeners, revealing the prize within.

A oversized Gammorrean, even for their kind, dressed in what could be considered tribal regalia of sorts. Theirs was a brutish people, after all.

"I captured this one myself on the surface of Gamorr some cycles ago. Led a rather enterprising tribe of his own. Brutal, killed their fellows for sport." A fellow warrior approached Tork and handed him what seemed to be a long rounded spear. Tork proceeded to stick the prod through the bars and thrust at the Gamorrean Chieftain. The shock caused the beast to squeal and howl in pain and then in anger. It battered against the cage with righteous fury, wanting nothing more than to escape and exact revenge on its captors.

The nearby warriors at the turbolift watched in cautious silence, hands close to their weapons. That alone spoke for itself.

"Damn thing was a stubborn bastard. Took me nearly a fortnite to track and defeat it after we burned his village and slaughtered his people. Well worth it though, I may say." Tork offered the prod to his visitor and gauged her reaction. "It seems we are in agreement. We can discuss the finer details, of course, but beskar is invaluable to my clan. Obviously. Though I am interested in your offer of weapons and less...traditional rewards."


Lirka Ka​

 

[Lirka Ka]

Credits were everything. Credits were morality. Credits were purpose. Credits were the sweet nectar of the Galaxy that made worlds turn. And Lirka had every intent to abuse that fact as much as she could.

Glowing lenses looked over the assorted slaves a few more times. Raw materials, untethered by the tithes to the Kainate…it was a fascinating prospect. Not one she had widely contemplated before, but with the material in front of her: Lirka’s contemplations wandered through the vast spread of possibilities. Oh how the Underworld offered so many a path for one so wicked as her.

She listened to the words of Tork Lok with a degree of amusement. Yes, she supposed a Mandalorian could never truly escape the illustrious call of honor. But his answer was more than enough to satisfy the Once Sephi.

“Honor is a nuisance of a thing sometimes. I can not fault your kindred for abandoning it…bad for business.”

Dishonor was victory, that is what Lirka had learned in her long days. Her blank faced helm turned to acknowledge Tork with something resembling amusement as she corrected him.

“Kainate. Kainites represent the individuals, Kainate is the organization me and my fellows represent. But, semantics at the end of the day. It is good to see you are able to look upon our bloodied past, Mandalorian. So many weep for Moridinae, even after so many years. It was an unfortunate circumstance really, blood begetting blood.”

Not like Lirka really cared all that much about the Sith’s plots for vengeance. She had done her foul deeds on Mandalore for her own ends, not theirs. As the pair approached the Gamorrean, she watched the exchange quizzically. He was an impressive specimen for sure - an unintelligent species offered easy work when it came time to decraninate. Inherent bulk…she stopped herself from letting her mind wander too far into whatever abomination she could make that unfortunate soul into.

“Yes. An impressive beast for sure. I am familiar with tribals, I spent many a year in the less civilized regions of Wild Space. Worlds that existed in stasis compared to the rest of our Galaxy. Easy pickings, really.”

The gamorrean’s cries fazed her little. She had heard worse, she had inflicted worse. Yet, its rage was a curious thing. Perhaps she needed to look for more aggressive specimens? If that rage could be honed to lethal levels…

When Tork handed her the prod, Lirka calmly took the thing in her clawed hands. Feeling out the weight of the thing before jamming it into the Gamorrean again to see how it squealed: and if it’s bubbling rage would grow even brighter. Pain made for a most pleasurable ambiance for their deal.

“Yes, Mandalorian, it would seem we are. I assumed you would take interest in my offer to have access to our great plunder - but I can not offer such a thing so early and so willingly. If this is to blossom into a profitable partnership, I will gladly give to you what I can. Weapons is far from complicated. The Grand Legion demands weapons in abundance, I can acquisition blasters, blades, ordinance, perhaps even starfighters and tanks if I can string my connections together. The Malsheem churns out more weapons of war than we know what to do with, I’m sure my lord will not miss a few toys.”

Less traditional rewards. Truly the most grand of payments, the possibilities were endless.

“Yes…the less traditional things at my beck and call. Monsters. Augmentations. The dark arts of flesh crafting, to remake flesh and bone into a form most suitable. Among things less exciting, of course. Information, passage through Sith-Imperial space, perhaps even opportunities to join me in plundering if you see so fit. I have reason to believe I am in poor reputation with a gaggle of Mandalorians that will seek to undermine my grand task. I’m sure a man of your stature would have no issue turning blaster upon another of your kind?”

A loaded question, somewhat. But an important one. If Lirka to turn Mandalorian upon Mandalorian? Well…then this deal was as good as sealed.