Lulaire gently tugged on the reins as the tee-muss groaned and slowed down to a steady walk. She wore her jedi robes which helped keep the heat from the sun being too unbearable. She was no stranger to heat, having work from before the sun rises and after the sun set outside. This environment was still different for her. It was so dry. She caught herself drinking water more than usual and made sure her hood and mask was secured. Only her bright orange hues could be seen. Her datapad beeped a few times as they had arrived at the coordinates and she glanced at the entrance. It was rather odd. She looked around at the vast horizon of sand and heat.
“Alrighty, Sapir, down.” She leaned forward and patted the tee-muss on it’s shoulder as it leaned forward first and bent it’s knees. She kept her thighs tight to keep from falling forward. The back knees followed as Lulaire slid off. She opened the massive bag that it was carrying on it’s back and started to get out the bowl and water for the tee-muss.
“Stay here, if anyone try to steal ya cutie behind, well, give them a bite or two.” Lulaire grinned, giving it scratches on the head. She went back to the bag and pulled out something. She held it close to her, using her right arm, as if it was an important item. When she entered to the unground hanger, she winced at first. It was vastly different from what she was used to the last hour she had been traveling. Her eyes were trying to adjust to the sudden dimness of the hanger compared to the scorching sun outside.
The golden Firrerreo asked a few questions and it took her a bit of time to find someone that understood her language and directed her to the destination. When she had finally found it, she stepped into the shop, her hand raised as she pushed the hood back, revealing two-toned hair of scarlet red and golden blonde. Her hand then lowered and pushed down her lower face mask as she took in a deep breath.
“Hullo?” Her accent had a thick country to it. She felt the baby tuggle in her belly started to move as it poked it’s head out. Lulaire gave it scratches while looking around. She quickly used sense to make sure she wouldn’t be in danger but detected odd life force signatures as her head turned towards the direction, her scratches on the tuggle paused.
Hector Von Ricmore watched the team of mechanics work on his speeder. A new purchase from the Celebration Store, it would hopefully add new options for stealth assaults to his repertoire. A number of other vehicles lined the space of the hangar, a mixture of salvaged and in progress projects. He was distracted from the spectacle by a voice echoing through the hangar.
“Sounds like we have a visitor. I’ll go check who it is.”
Making his way through the hangar the Kiffar sought out his presumed customer. A familiar face awaited him; Lulaire, an ally from a recent misadventure.
“Welcome to Ricmore’s Regal Repository, if we don’t have it, we’ll get it for ya. What are you looking for today?” Hector inquired
Lulaire’s head snap to Hector’s voice as she grinned at seeing him.
“Hidee-ho! Actually, I be here on a different business, if that alright with ya?” She tilted her head towards her right arm where Hector can see that it’s a clear bag with a neatly folded robes inside. To the observant eye, he would noticed dried blood stains and lightsaber scorch marks on it.
“Would there be a much more private spot we can go to?”
A private spot? What an interesting request. “Yes we recognize the need for discretion. Allow me to lead you to a private booth.” The Kiffar began to lead the way out of the hangar, his companion falling in step behind him. They walked through the hangar and up a set of stairs. Hector input a code, opening the blast door. The pair continued down a hallway and made a left turn, arriving at another locked door. Inputting another code the Kiffar entered the private room; gesturing for his companion to join him.
The room was designed for comfort and privacy. A long meeting table dominated the room, with a device at the center designed to mask electronic signals and guarantee privacy. A refrigeration device containing a variety of refreshments sat nearby.
Turning on the privacy device, Hector took a seat at the table. “In here your privacy is guaranteed. Feel free to check for any recording devices if you do not trust me.”
“Ah, no that w- Cotton!” The baby Tuggle leapt out and stood on the meeting table. He started to sniff the table before licking it.
“Ah-bu-bu-bu!” Lulaire quickly waved at Cotton’s face to make him stop licking the table as he started to explore the room.
“Now, it dun’t have to be this private, I guess I reckon I dun’t know how my emotions will be. Thank ya, Hector, this is good. And uhhhh I good on checkin’ for techie things.” Lulaire smiled sheepishly. She never was good when it came with technology. She placed the bag onto the table gently.
“I had them robes for twelve years. Reckon the Force would tell me when it’s time to find the truth. Well.” Lulaire sat down, unsure how to explain. Her expression turned somber.
“Matie visited me, this morning. An echo of her rather and I had the feelin’ that it was time, only if it be okay with ya.” She opened the bag and gently placed the folded robes on top.
“Matie was my twin sister. She was in a Conclave. I had passed my lightsaber trainin’ and other ones but she really struggled so she had to stay. A few days later, the entire Conclave was murdered. I ask you to see if you can see who the killer was. I do understand if this be something ya dun’t want to do.”
The Kiffar looked over the robes. A psychometry request. Not the most unreasonable thing that he had been asked. “I’ll see if I can point you in the right direction. Items that old have a lot of history to them. I can’t guarantee perfect accuracy. But I’ll do what I can. We can discuss payment afterward.”
Hector would need all his concentration. Removing his gloves, he picked up the robes. And then he began to see.
He felt cold. So very cold. The shroud of the dark side lingered over the robes. Infused with negative emotions. Despair. Terror. Wrath. And a hint of acceptance. Jedi were trained to let go. To embrace their fate and fade into the living force.
Hector watched as Jedi after Jedi was cut down, the conclave reduced in numbers by a shadow figure. A curved lightsaber with a blade of blazing red. Movements made with absolute efficiency. Not a single wasted motion as the being butchered the Conclave.
A group of Jedi moved to engage the being as one; only to falter and began to scream, clutching their heads as he rifled through them. They joined their comrades in the afterlife. The being continued to hunt.
It was like a reaper had come to collect the souls of the damned. Red lightsaber, gleaming, horrid red eyes that shone amber circles like a black hole attempting to suck them in. There was no smile on his face, no mercy to be given.
Two Jedi lunged forward, charging with blue and green lightsabers above their heads. Both Zabrak, though one immediately stopped running, prompting the other to stop. The first Zabrak’s eyes had glossed over, become clouded, before impaling both him comrade and himself with his own weapon.
More surrounded the Sith, the vision still murky, but those eyes those eyes still remained. Among the new four that surrounded him were the Zabrak Jedi Elder Knights, leader of the conclave and, of course, Matie too, grasping hold of her lightsaber for dear life.
Shouting was heard, the group circling the Sith like a wary pack of hounds looking for the kill. The first two Zabrak lunging forward, but were cut down by one, then two quick swishes of a crimson saber. The third attempted to use the Force against him, but the Sith was faster and jettisoned streams of lightning into him, torturing the Zabrak with malicious electric threads.
Matie was paralyzed she attempted to heal her fellow comrade next to her, but was pushed by the Sith via the Force. With nothing else left, she attacked valiant, but was far from an expert swordsman and had her hands removed in short fashion.
On her knees and defenceless, the Sith towered above her, his vision becoming clearer. Blue skin, dark hair, a curved hilt and eyes that matched the Dark Side. Hector recognised him just as his lightsaber was brought down on Matie’s neck.
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Lulaire gave him some space and watched as he took off his gloves. She withdrew her hands to make sure there was no accidental contact.
“I do understand if it won’t be perfect. But I don’t know. I saw her echo for a reason this morn’.” He touched the robes and she became very quiet. The room hummed with technology that prevented from other technology listening in. Cotton was sniffing at some small thing in the corner.
She waited.
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The vision ended, the echo fading as the Kiffar returned to reality. Hector Von Ricmore studied his client. She wouldn‘t survive against the foe she sought. Anders was a dreadfully powerful Sith. The job required that he inform Lulaire of what he saw. But to do so would certainly assign her a fate of suffering or death.
For a moment Hector pondered lying. His companion had no way to verify his Psychometry, as far as he knew, and he could attempt to give her closure. But lying was not his strength, and his companion radiated strength in the Living Force. She would see through him.
A surge of melancholy welled within him. So be it. The truth he would share. Force damn the consequences.
“Your conclave was murdered by a Sith Lord, one of immense power. He is known as Anders. I would advise you against hunting such a foe, only bitterness and pain await you on such a path.”
Lulaire stared at him, slightly in shock. “Me? Oh goodness, no. I ain’t after revenge.” In fact, there was a sense of calm and peace wash into the room, embracing Hector if he allows it.
“No.” She gently reached out and started to fold the robes neatly. “I dun’t go huntin’ or anything of that sort. I have a name now, and I reckon I’ll look him up to see what he do look like, after I meditate for a few days that is. If the day arrives that we are to meet, well, I’ll kindly ask him to leave after asking him where a young boy was. He went missin’ after that.” She started to put the robes back into the bag.
“If he refuses, well. That’s when I do my job. The Force will deem it to happen if the events folds that way.” She closes the bag and gives Hector a warm grin, her hand on her hip.
“So! Bout that payment?”
Hector nodded. “The clan accepts several forms of payment. An IOU to be called in later is an option. Or I can send you the current rates for investigative services. Such payments can be made in platinum, hyperfuel, legal or unregistered weapons, new republic credits, mon calamari flan, or verified spice. Which option would you prefer?”
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Lulaire rose an eyebrow at the long list. It was always so foreign to her to go to other places that wasn’t like Selen.
An IOU? Well, that was new to her. She considered it for a moment. While she did have the credits, legally, maybe the Force had something greater waiting for them both.
“Okie-dokie, let’s do IOU, ya? So I’m guessin’ you need my com code for that bit?” She held out her hand for him to hand over his datapad.
“That would be useful yes. A pleasure doing business with you.” Hector passed the datapad to Lulaire.
Lulaire entered her com code as she whistled. Cotton mewed as it licked Hector’s hand and jumped into Lulaire’s robe and gets hidden, making her look rather… fatter than usual.
She let out a heavy sigh as she took the bag with the robes. It was time to meditate. And maybe hopefully, never meet this Sith Lord but she has her duty if they were to meet.
“Thank ya, Rickymore.” She grinned as she pulled up the hood and made her way back out.