Nar Shaddaa

Durasay sat at a high table on a pationof a cafe in the Uptown. A bottle of Alderaanian wine chilled on the tablr, two glasses already ready. He was in a relaxed posture, looking out at the crowd.

It was time to give a follow up report, before heading ofd to hopefully finish the case. So he had sent a message, hoping it would get to that Lethan Twi'lek.

Hopefully this would be smooth.

The Wraith appeared, masked. In all honesty she would like to take it off for the dinner, but she could not allow herself to make it easier for some to compromise her other guises. And the Pantoran had been nothing but resourceful, dangerously so. She did take the cloak off, having a leather jacket and stovepipes underneath, making her attractive curvature apparent.

She approached without haste. "Greetings, Mr Mixo. Thank you for the invitation."

"Lady Sith." He stood from the table as she approached. There was a slight smirk upon his face, and the close observer would note the way his eyes glanced down her form. He had cleaned up a bit himself, his old dress uniform on beneath his trench coat. "I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of ordering a bottle for us." He invited her to sit down, and would remain standing until she moved to sit herself.

"Sorry that I haven't gotten any information to you sooner, outside of what I had given our mutual friend, earlier on. I didn't want to waste your time with details that may or may not have panned out."

She took quick note of the selected fare and waved her hand dismissively at the first inquiry. "Why would I mind a good aperitif." She then sat, at the edge of her chair, one leg over the other, leaning forward slightly with her body, but keeping the neck straight.. But it looked more like her consistent style than an effort to bewitch him. "I suppose your reasons behind this delay are understandable. By this I understand that you've discovered something relevant by now."

"Indeed." He sat down, taking the bottle from it's chiller, and pouring a glass for herself first, and then himself. Setting it aside, he watched her mask. He was curious to her identity, but at the same time, he could understand the need for it. Perhaps he'd find out in time. Or perhaps he wouldn't.

"It's an old cult, dedicated to a deity called the Red God. Believes in ritualistic combat, and the death of Warlocks who enslaved the Nikto. Warlocks, in this case, being those with an affinity for the Force. Regardless of Jedi or Sith." He laid a hand out on the table, his eyes staying focused on the mask.

"Our killer is a man named Azanak. The only reason I mention that he is a man is simply this. The cult does not respect or revere women, so the choice in our mutual friend to send me the dossier on the Lady Cortess was inspired. As much as I hated luring someone into a trap they didn't know about, it worked. Other details. This cult is aided by several of the gangs of the lower level. Those gangs should stop giving aid and comfort now, though, after a deal I made with Kidaja the Hutt."

His smile curled into something more wicked. "He did say that if he did this favor for the Sith, I would be responsible for the debt. In the interest of solving these murders and showing that I am a man of my word, I took that on. He will be cutting off supplies and aid to those gangs, as long as they lend Azanak aid and comfort. And tonight... hopefully myself, the Lady Cortess, and Lord Rath will be solving this issue." The smile widened into a genuine one, rather than simple self-assuredness.

"Should be a good thing to drink to, don't you agree?"

She lifted the mask slightly to take a sip, her crimson lips showing. "That is quite the story, Mr Mixo. Thanks to you I don't feel bad about not killing a Nikto called Virnu today, the one Dango chose to blame for the assaults on the Warlocks, or how the Nikto charmingly call us. I probably saw this man you speak of, Azanak, that night when I picked up the chase, but he said there was no honour in facing me and fled. Maybe their attitude toward femininity is a bit more complex then, a weakness to be exploited."

She chuckled.

"I don't know who this Jedi you speak of is, but your narrative paints an interesting picture to me. You commit yourself to investigation of a murder of a True Sith without any apparent reason, insert yourself successfully in what is essentially an internal matter, then frame a Jedi and get away with it to the point of working with her afterwards, and ultimately obligate yourself to the Hutts to help the Sith. I see two plausible options. Either you genuinely wish to become and Imperial asset, what I say can be arranged, or this is your way to infiltrate our ranks, either for your own benefit, for the benefit of your own planetary government, or for the Republic. If this is the case, we'll learn sooner or later. I don't remember checking if you are Force-sensitive but I wouldn't be surprised if you are. And that would make Korriban one of many possibilities."

She took another sip.

"Regardless of how it ends, you've made yourself noticeable, Mr Mixo, for better or worse."

"Should I be lucky I have your attention then, Lady Sith?" He raised an eyebrow as he drank from his own glass, leaning back in the chair. "I do have knowledge of the Force. I've always been good with words, especially when I need to inspire people to action. I can feel it moving through me, as I reach out to those around me." Idly the glass was held in his right hand, looking at her, a slight nod of his head.

"Is it so impossible to believe that I truly am involving myself for the simple reason to see justice is done? A man was murdered, a murderer is on the loose. Political affiliation or desire has nothing to do with it. I don't know if I'd be a good fit for the Empire, if such a conspiratorial bent was necessary to advance and rise." He gave a small laugh, before reverting back to a pleasant smile.

"And I didn't entirely set her up. I tracked her down as I found her fighting our target. Joined in to help. Unfortunately, he got away that first time. Even eluding a Sith strike team. Honestly, I was hoping you'd show up with that first team. Maybe you'd have seen for yourself that I wasn't just inserting myself for personal gain."

"I am mapping options, not making calls. The fact that I speak my mind about it rather than cultivate my suspicions in silence is a token of good faith in itself. I know too little about Pantorans to discern what are your true intentions, perhaps they are what you tell them to be. We'll learn down the road."

She smirked after a sip with her crimson lips before the mask was pulled down into its place.

"You excuse yourself as if I was holding it against you that you put a Jedi in jeopardy. The fact that you've found the resolve to do it speaks of your strength and resolve. This is how those who seek to be aligned with the Force should be tested. If she was strong, she would have prevailed. Who was on that strike team?"

"It was the aspirant, leading a group of Troopers. If that's what your rank and file is, I'd hope that this peace conference goes well, then." He matched her smirk with a coy one of his own, before meeting the gaze of her mask again. "Who's to say if she would have prevailed or not. From what I saw, she was handling herself quite well."

Granted, he did have to revive her with a stimpack, but the way that brute hit, not many could have survived one on one with him like she had. "The Force brings all things as they should be. Maybe it draws me to danger like a mynock to power couplings. And I do appreciate the sign of good faith then." He cocked an eyebrow, setting his glass of wine down.

"I assumed the aspirant was keeping you in the loop. I apologize, as it seems my assumption was wrong."

"I honestly don't know if they were that good or that bad from the way you phrased it." She chuckled, swirling wine in the glass. "I actually relinquished the minutiae of the case to Colonel Moraal as I was occupied with other matters. I was also informed that Jo'ren Rath decided to look into the death of his trueblood cousin, so I saw little reason to step in. But since the matter is unresolved and the Hutts are providing false leads to just sweep it under the rug, maybe I should re-engage."

She paused. "The Force does not deliver in itself. It enables or discourages. In the end, it is our choices and actions that define how the Force substantiates. To accept a deterministic view is to become a slave to its undulating vergence."

"I can agree with that. After all, even though it may have brought me to these scenarios, it did not compel me to act. Perhaps I misspoke, but I don't believe I have such a deterministic view."

His yellow-amber eyes idly watched the way her fingers held the glass, the light swirl she gave it to air the wine.

"Lord Rath has been a boon to the case. In fact, some information he has brought forth should help bring the matter to a close. I wouldn't be upset if you reengaged." It was his turn to laugh, before picking his glass up, enjoying another deep taste.

"I've met the Colonel once. She seems exceptionally capable."

"It's good to hear. I don't respect those who are afraid of making a difference." She lifted the mask again, to take another sip. Mostly to vanquish the ferric aftertaste still lingering in her mouth, but she savoured the wine nonetheless. "Against those who conserve, contain and deter." She tilted her head slightly, letting lekku slip forth, from their positions on her shoulders onto her bosom.

"Effecting change usually requires both courage and competence, and these qualities are nurtured in the Empire. Colonel Moraal is a fine outcome of that process." She let her voice hang for a moment. "Jo'ren and I often work together, so it shouldn't be a problem. The Jedi might be, so I would know more of this Cortess if you indulged me."

He had heard that Twi'lek could communicate with their lekku, but he was not sure if anyone else could interpret that language. He tried not to dwell on it.

"Makashi, is the form she said she used. Watching her duel, it was... like an art. Graceful, and deadly all at once. She's exceedingly skilled with her lightsaber. If she hadn't been used as bait, I do think any other jedi may have fallen, given the dedication to ritual combat this Azanak has." He brushed a hand through his silver/white hair, giving her his undivided attention.

"She's tempremental. About stabbed through my foot with a high heel. But I think it's that assertiveness that lends itself to her skill. She isn't one to not effect change."

"I am not familiar with the style. I don't think either of my close associates practices it, so I take your word for it that it is what it is." Maybe her lekku just liked moving around. Their tips hooked at each other over her chest as she chuckled in amusement. "The way you describe her though makes me think that the corset of Jedi creeds shows seams on her. If she's willing to let her emotions drive her actions, I would be the last to blame her. Maybe this hunt is a path of self-discovery for her."

"Perhaps. Her focus on it is intense. Something I admire about her." Durasay sipped from his glass, the briefest of glances at the almost hypnotic movement of her lekku before he caught himself.

"I don't think the Jedi are without their emotions. Tempered, for sure. I've seen evidence of what happens when ones passions drive them too far. Not here, of course." He smiled, before finishing his glass.

"It's never the intensity of emotion in itself that is the problem, but the lack of resolve and capacity to ride them. For many who experience fear the easiest fix is to avoid that what they are afraid of, to find security in retreat or denial. This is the Jedi way, to deny our nature, and I am hardly surprised many of those Force-users who cling to the Light have problems with it. It's an act of self-aggression, a spiritual cancer." She mused, her lekku slithering slightly.

"Mastering your own fear, or desire, or anger, aligning with them on your own terms is much closer to the fulfilment of potential the Force imbues us with. What is spiritual and what is biological about us begin to work together, mobilise for a common goal. Of course, that often makes our sentience a battleground, but it is adversity that makes us thrive. Isn't it your true motivation, Mr Mixo, behind pursuing this Azanak, a worthy opponent? To prove yourself before yourself?"

"Durasay, please, Lady Sith." He grabbed the bottle, offering to refill her glass, before refilling his (and would wait until she accepted or refused). "I don't know if I would call it a hunt for a worthy opponent. To do something for myself to better the galaxy, even in a small way as bringing a killer to justice? Certainly."

A lot of what she was saying was making a lot of sense. He himself didn't shrink from fear. Some called him high risk for it. He was more interested in faxing those fears, and standing tall in spite of them.

"Maybe that's why I'm no Jedi. I don't deny what I am."

"Durasay then."

She accepted, and did not lean back when he leaned in to pour, letting him enjoy the feeling of breaching her personal space. It did raise the tips of her lekku though, and precipitated a deeper breath as she took in the aroma of flowing wine.

"The freedom to set one's own path is the primary tenet that drew me to becoming a Sith. There is no greater truth than the one you carry in yourself. All you must do is to find a way to make it reflect on the world. If what you want is to better the galaxy, don't question that drive. If you think it will be better without Azanak and his chauvinistic cult, find means to kill him and his."

He could see a smile on her crimson lips as she was taking a fresh sip after airing the wine.

"But this is basically what you've been doing. I am just naming things."

"You make the Sith sound almost noble." There was a pleasant curl to his lips as he leaned back, watching her as she drank her wine. "And were you, Lady Shaisha, the good Colonel, and Lord Rath the only members of the Sith I had met, I'd be inclined to agree." There was almost a hint of sadness to his voice.

"But what of those Sith Lords and zealots who so vehemently hate non-humans? How does xenophobia relate to those tenets which you espouse?" He wasn't accusing or angry as he spoke, curiosity slithering through each question.

"How can you tolerate being around such who would hate you for your lekku as they do my blue skin?"

"The easy answer is I don't, but I am biding my time until I am powerful enough to make a difference. You name the Sith of my generational cohort as the ones you can align your ideas with. And it is precisely the point." Her voice became more imbued with genuine conviction. "Because the way of the Sith is to overthrow those that impede you from above. We shall be the bane of our masters. It's actually already happening. The conservatives are in retreat in the Dark Council, while Marr, Malgus and Hoshi are on the rise. Darth Hoshi is a very blue twi'lek of a Darth, mind you, and her ascent has been meteoric." Another sip.

"Being a Sith is to commit to a metaphilosophy of the Force that allows you to take it upon yourself to define how it substantiates in the universe. It is about agency, and change. It is the rejection of the stagnant status quo regardless of partisan colours. It just so happens that the Republic is predicated on the defence of status quo, seconded by the Jedi Order. It was how the Sith came into being by the way, through the exile of those Jedi who dared to question the orthodoxy."

Durasay remained silent for a moment, his wine glass held in the air. She was making a lot of sense. But what if the stories of torture, of slavery? His mind raced with questions and concerns.

"I've always viewed change as a positive force. As long as it is meaningful change. Especially when it is for singular improvement. Ambition. Cunning. Nothing wrong with those traits or those with the will to use them. But how can the galaxy thrive if those aren't tempered? Unrestrained, it can inflict such wounds on us all." He finally brought his glass to his lips.

A small laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm normally not so philosophical. My main concern has always been how do I bring about the best, with me being the best at what I do. It's why I never joined the Republic. It's too lethargic for what must be done."

She softly laughed back.

"I hadn't been either. But I asked myself some hard questions on Korriban, many of those that you have asked me today. That struggle within myself led to greater self-awareness, and the clarity to my path. Since then, I've had some success in aiding others in doing the same. I spiritually midwived the rise of the current apprentice of Darth Hoshi, a Duros. He needed a nudge to abandon slavish mentality and embrace his own ambition. He's proven to be a great boon in her manumitting campaign across the Outer Rim. And I had my hand in the ascension of the Queen of the Massassi on Yavin, who is now bringing back the strength of once-downtrodden and scattered race."

She tilted the glass and held it, watching the wine travel toward the rim.

"Every regime sustains itself on coercing and committing atrocities on those who won't back down from opposing it. The Republic and the Empire are no different in this regard, and I feel you know this all too well. But the greatest obstacle to personal liberty is not the existence of evil regimes, but the deluded belief in the existence of good ones. Harbouring that belief leads to complacency and vulnerability whenever pacifist idealism is disproven. Peace has even been a lie because the fight for a better galaxy never stops."

"I should have dressed up a little more, had Inknown I'd be dining with such a celebrated figure." There was ni malice in the teasing, good natured ribbing with a high sense of respect.

"The existence of evil ones certainly don't help. But I can agree about the apathy of 'good' ones. It's why I like living on that edge. Nothing but the freedom of the space lanes, and your own drive to guide you."

That drew another soft laugh. "Oh come on, I feel well-received. I shared those facts not to self-aggrandise or gloat, but to make a point. In fact, I would be grateful if the stories of my involvement in those affairs were not widespread. I like to operate from the shadows, effecting change without fanfare. I have no thirst for glory."

She didn't allow the wine to spill. When it was nearing it she brought it to her lips for a rich sip.

"It does help, in fact. Without them, the defiance wouldn't awaken. The creeping corruption of those which petrify your will is harder to overcome." She then nodded to his words. "Music to my ears, actually. I could not agree more. The big question is of course how to win that freedom for yourself."

"A shame. A little glory might look good on you. Though you'd probably be hard pressed to find something that didn't." His laughter was low, relaxing, as he placed an arm on the back of his chair, leaning back slightly.

"I suppose you are right. A spirit of rebellion is always spurred on by oppression to fight against." A server came by. Durasay pointed to a selection of cheeses, while keeping his attention on the Wraith.

"In all honesty, do you think I'm not free?"