An Uncommon Hunting Trip
- A few kilometers outside the Pepoi Compound
- Outside Mucenic
It was, in almost every sense of the word, a perfect day to be outside, if your definition of a perfect day involved a steady downpour of rain. At the least, the temperature was comfortable, one needed a coat only to keep dry. Mirado was running, something between a hobby, obsession, and divine imperative.
Overhead, there was a flash, it’s light echoing in the Force, followed by a distant clap of thunder. Mirado paused for a moment, began counting, and once he was satisfied with the result, ran deeper into the forest he was heading towards. During his runs, he was able to think, purge the headaches and annoyances of the day, and just get back to what he really was, a wild man more at home outdoors than in his own home.
As he ran, he would leap, swing from branches, and slide down fallen logs on the blades of his feet. Mostly this was for fun, but keeping the landscape in mind was helpful too, and there was no such thing as wasted learning. This run was, all in all, therapeutic, until, at the periphery of his Force Sight, he could see some kind of living things, who echoed in the Force like people. Thoughts, and dreams coalesced with the shine of them living. Could be vacationers from Markosian City, could be assassins.
Secretly, Mirado hoped for assassins.
It was maybe another kilometer before Mirado slowed his pace, and let himself blend into the foliage. He tossed most of his clothes off, tucking them into the dry hollow of a tree, and then slithered through a mud bog. It would be effective camouflage from both eyes and thermal sensors, though it allowed him only to carry his lightsaber. Not itself an useless tool though.
Still creeping closer, the four people, dressed identically, and with an almost identical presence, came into sharp focus, along with their transit. Mirado had seen this armor before, twice. Once when The Grand Master himself had come to Tarthos, following the routing of the Ekind from Markosian City. The other time, when he’d visited Muz personally on Antei.
Still silently, still invisible among the woodlands, he came to within earshot, and waited. After a moment, one of them spoke up.
“I thought we had satellite coverage on him?” One of them asked.
“We did,” the second one replied, looking around. “Apparently, they lost him.”
“This was his projected route, how far was he when they lost him?” said the first.
“About a klick due east.” said the third.
Mirado spent the time watching them. They were Nihilgenia. Clone soldiers not to be trifled with. He wasn’t sure he could take all four up front, and was planning how to evade their attempts to track him down, as well as separate and kill them if necessary, when something game him pause. One of their comms chirped, and the fourth answered.
“Yes, your excellency?” the solider replied.
“Have you located him yet?” came the distorted voice on the other end. The accent, pacing of speech, and inflection gave him away. It was Shikyo Keibatsu, the Herald.
“No, your excellency. He slipped tracking some time ago. His heat signature went cold on the satellite feed about 10 minutes ago.” the Nihigenia replied.
“Then go looking for him. You’re elite troops, act like it.” Shikyo said, annoyance coming in clearly over the comm buzzing. “I need to meet with him as soon as possible.”
“Your excellency, with respect, according to his dossier and information from his family, if he doesn’t want found, it would take a Force user to track him.”
The clone would have said more, except a lightsaber hilt came lofting into the middle of their very impromptu encampment. It hit the rain softened ground with a muted thud, and was followed by a very muddy Miraluka. He matched their size very closely, a bit taller, a bit broader, but much leaner. He began wiping mud off of himself, obviously keeping his hands busy for their benefit.
“The Herald wanted me? Why didn’t you just ask?” He said, ‘eying’ them curiously.
“You were, difficult to locate, to say the least, Commander L’eonheart.” The clone said, using his Prefecture’s title, though he didn’t need to. Clearly he was acting courteously. No reason not to respond in like.
“Sorry, I don’t tend to check in on my days off. Where am I meeting the Herald?” Mirado asked, still wiping himself off, though most of the mud was gone.
“Antei, we depart immediately.” The first Nihilgenia said, gesturing toward their shuttle. It wasn’t a design Mirado was familiar with.
“I’ll need to stop by my home and get some clothes first, I wouldn’t meet Fremoc on Antei looking like this, and we share genetics.” Mirado said. He wasn’t behaving like a diva necessarily, just… you don’t meet a councilor and not clean up a little. It’s just plain disrespectful.
“We’ve taken the liberty. Commander Farron let us into your home when we made our intentions clear.” The second clone said. “You’ll find facilities to bathe aboard our ship in orbit.”
“So be it then.” Mirado said with a shrug, bending down to retrieve his lightsaber. He wasn’t sure where things were headed, but he was reasonably certain if Shikyo had wanted Mirado’s head, he wouldn’t have sent Nihilgenia to get it for him.
Mirado stepped off of the Fallen Spear and onto the Shadowlands of Antei. Turning back to the soulless faces of the Nihilgenia, they stepped back onto the ship before returning back to whatever coordinates the Grand Master assigned to them. The Sergeant’s uniform was well tailored and decorated for his meeting with the Herald. Securing his weapons to his body, the Miraluka began to make his way towards the Dark Hall.
Memories of the building were vague yet he noticed a heightened number of Royal Guardsmen in various entrances to rooms and lower passages way. Making his way towards the turbolift that would take him to the Dark Hall, the Force pikes of two Guardsmen blocked the entryway and stared at him through faceless helms. The Dark Jedi Knight looked at them in his own demeanor and nodded.
“I am here at the request of His Excellency, Shikyo Keibatsu.”
The Guardsmen searched through the Force for any deception in the Obelisk, parting their weapons and allowing the Sadowian access to the lower levels. With a slight nod of his head, the Sergeant stepped into the turbolift and descended into the bowels of the Dark Hall. As the doors slid open to reveal an obsidian hallway, the first sensation Mirado felt was cold. Something down here had the sensation for blood and death and it would be sought in one form or another. The next was warcries coming from the Grand Master’s chambers.
L’eonheart wasted no time to the chamber, rushing down the corridor before busting into the chamber. Inside, he noticed the forms of Muz Ashen and Shikyo Keibatsu surrounded by a multitude of vibrant light. Looking closely to the events around him, the Obelisk noticed the Grand Master’s focus on the Force controlled and manipulated the free forms of a multitude of lightsabers, while the Herald held on to his two blades and danced between the blades of his eldest brother.
Muz stood calm as twists of his hands were guides to the floating sabers for various strikes to unleash upon the Herald. Shikyo deflected the strikes with a precision and speed that the Journeyman had never seen before. It was art in motion with a bloodthirsty twist. As Mirado stared at both combatants through the Force, he saw no hatred between the two but there was a desire to kill in their actions nonetheless.
Watching this display of power, the Sadowian heard the same battle cry from earlier come from the lips of the Herald as he slashed through one of the hilts of the sabers. As the pieces fell to the obsidian floor, the remaining hilts extinguished themselves and made their way back to the Grand Master. Shikyo silenced his blades and clipped the weapons back onto his sash before bowing slightly to his brother. It was the Lion of Tarthos that spoke up first.
“At least you finally got one this time. Remember to keep up the pressure on your opponent and take opportunities as they come to you. The swifter the defeat, the sooner you accomplish your mission.”
The Elder smiled.
“You’re coming at me with six blades and expect me to find rat holes in the mansion?”
A very slight smirk found its way on the Dark Lord’s face.
“You’re my brother. It should come naturally.”
The two Keibatsu turned towards the entrance, noting the presence of the Dark Jedi Knight for the first time. Mirado produced a formal bow, hands either to the front or back, before knelling before the two Councilors, fist on the ground and kept his head lowered. The Wolf of Kyataru scoffed and chuckled.
“Your business is with me and this isn’t the time for formalities. On your feet and follow me.”
Shikyo felt into the chair behind his desk more tired than worn down as he gestured to the seat before his desk. The Muraluka nodded and took a seat, keeping his “eyes” locked on those of the Kyataran. Sasuke smirked and produced a holopad before activating it and placing it on his desk. The images popped from the device and hung in mid-air, revealing the Orian system.
“I assume you know what this is, Pepoi.”
The Sergeant gave a very slight nod.
“Naga Sadow territory. The Orian System.”
“And one of the many territories the Brotherhood utilizes during times of war or conquest. If the system grows weak, then it may be said the same is so for its inhabitant.”
The Obelisk raised an eyebrow.
Shikyo deactivated the holopad and peered deep into the Journeyman’s “eyes”.
“You are one of the newer leaders in my second home and quite frankly, I’m not certain if Orian has what it takes to become the power I once recognized it to be. So, we’re going to have a test, if you will. Something to reassure not only my fears but the fears of the Grand Master.”
“What is this test?”
“You and I will be traveling to Tatooine. Once there, I will inform you of the task. Keep this in mind, Knight. I will be watching your every move. Every word spoken, every action taken. Since I left home, I have seen weakness spawn like bastard children. If you are to be the next generation, I will make certain that you will bring honor and glory to the Heirs. Understood?”
The Herald could feel tension rising from the Obelisk and settling down quickly. His words struck the nerve he desired to show the severity of the situation.
“Understood, Your Excellency.”
“Good. Then I will expect you at docking platform five in two hours. Take what you feel you will need and meet me there.”
The two Dark Jedi stood and the Adept watched as the Journeyman bowed courteously and made his way towards the exit. As soon as the Sergeant departed, the Wolf slid open his desk and noted the two “Black Lion” pistols that sat in form-fitting foam. With a slight grin on his face, the Kyataran could not wait to see how the Sadowian would handle his trial.
- Dark Halls
Mirado exited the Herald’s office, and walked away with a purpose. He pulled up the sleeve of his right arm, and rolled it to sit snug against his bicep. This revealed the small tattoo across the width of his forearm at his elbow, his mark of Royal Guard. As Mirado walked along, he nodded to several guards. He neither expected, or received a return gesture, but that’s how things worked within the guard.
The Miraluka got to the lift, and selected the fourth level. Once he’d gotten there, he walked past the security offices without so much as a pause, and went around a corner. There he paused, and pressed a brick into the wall, and waited as a section slid backwards, and then up. Quickly, he slipped in, and let the door close behind him as he walked down the long, winding staircase. He’d learned of the tunnel during the Order war last year, and it was something of a lifesaver for him now.
Below, several speeder bikes sat idle, obviously used by others in need to get from one place to another quickly, directly, and most importantly, unseen. Since Michael Halcyon’s betrayal, the tunnels had come into something more serviceable. Mirado grabbed one of the speeders, checked the fuel, and rocketed off.
As he drove, he pondered the Herald’s words. Weakness within Sadow? He hadn’t been around long, but if Shikyo felt there was weakness seen within the ranks, then Mirado lamented not getting picked up sooner. There must have been some die-hard hell-bent badasses, and while he’d met a few, there were plenty that had returned to the Force, or simply left.
Still, the drive was a straight line, but taking it at almost 400 kph meant he couldn’t keep his attention away for very long. 15 minutes later, he pulled up to the staircase below the Temple Bonya. Once inside, he moved pretty well unchallenged through the Obelisk stronghold, even into the impressive and impeccable armory.
Once within, he quickly picked out several combat knives, a serviceable vibroblade, and a few sundries, such as a pack, a change of clothing in the non-descript swooper style. These, he changed into immediately, and finished choosing sundries. A boot polishing kit went into the pack, along with some basic hygiene supplies, and some equipment maintenance tools as well. He was in and out within 20 minutes, back to the Dark Hall in another 15, and on the landing pad, all told, an hour early.
“You took long enough.” Shikyo asked, walking up behind, and past, the Miraluka, on his way to his ship.
Mirado simply shrugged, and followed the Herald, letting him do the talking.
“Whatever, once we set down, you’re going to secure our berthing in the port and then our lodgings.” Shikyo said, thumbing the remote access switch. The ramp dropped and both he and the Knight stepped within.
Mirado set his bag to the side and let Shikyo move towards the cockpit. “What’s my budget?” He asked after the Krath while he pulled his boots off to clean them.
“You don’t have one,” Shikyo said, and entered the cockpit. “So I hope you brought some money.”
Mirado just shrugged and began brushing his boots. You didn’t test Sadowans with easy.
Docking Platform 5
Shikyo leaned in to the cockpit and nodded at the pilots preparing for take off. After giving them the location of their destination, the Herald quickly made his way back towards the ramp of the transport, passing the Miraluka without so much as a glance. Mirado’s eyebrows furrowed as he stood and brought attention to himself. The Wolf of Kyataru grinned and turned back to the Sadowian.
“This is your transport. Mine will be following shortly. You have your orders and I expect things will be ready upon my arrival.”
Stepping off the transport, the Keibatsu looked towards the entrance to the platform, back at the transport, then back at the entrance in time to see his eldest brother awaiting him. The ramp began to rise slowly as the ship departed from the platform and made its way towards their destination. Watching the ship leave, Sasuke called out to his older brother.
“Are you sure about this? All the information we’ve gathered points toward-“
“I’m more than certain, ototo. The Houses are not like they once were and if we are to remain; they better regain the strength we once had before Antei fell. I’m going to require your assistance, as well as the rest of the Council to assist in this goal.”
The Herald bowed his head.
“Whatever you ask, I will see it done.”
Smoke trails from the initial take off remained in the skies of Antei as the Herald continued to watch. He could no longer feel the presence of the Dark Lord anymore and feeling as if he had wasted more time than what was necessary, began to make his final preparations to join the Obelisk on Anchorhead. Returning back to his chambers in the Dark Hall, the Keibatsu could not help but reflect upon his brother’s cryptic words.
As the door to the transport shut, Mirado went back to cleaning his boots. While he couldn’t see a shine on them, he could still take the mud off. Shiny boots were a liability anyways. Plus, the action was cathartic. It calmed him, forced his thoughts into an orderly line, and let him process everything. Once Shikyo had disembarked the shuttle, he’d felt a powerful, and familiar presence, and there was likely no good that could come of it. Mirado didn’t dislike the Grand Master, but the man scared the mortal piss out of him
Mirado felt the shuttle lift off, and did some quick math in his mind. The trip would take about 11 hours or so, which gave him more than enough time to get some rest, so before he racked down, he rooted about the back of the shuttle and found what he was looking for. Being in the employ of an empire of Dark Jedi had it’s perks, one of which was a charging port for his lightsaber. Mirado plugged it in, and left it to charge.
While that happened, he began plotting what he’d have to do once putting down in Anchorhead.
- 11 hours later
Mirado exited the shuttle, and was going to secure berthing for his transport, but the pilot immediately lifted off. Mirado just shrugged and picked up his small pack. As he shouldered it, he adjusted the ejector sheath in his sleeve that held his lightsaber. Content that it would do it’s job, the Sadowan Knight stepped out of the shuttle port and into the blast furnace that was the desert world of Tatooine. Sweat immediately beaded on his face, and the heat caused the Ronto dung that sat like landmines on the streets to create a sachet of powerful funk. Mirado curled his nose with a scowl, and just set about his task.
First, he made his way to the market. He had no intention of purchasing anything, but he needed operating capital. He meandered about a bit, fiddling with this piece or that, and actually found something he liked. With a practiced grab, he shoplifted a pair of sunglasses, and walked away from the stall, leaving the Ishi Tib keeper none the wiser. He put these on, to conceal the hollows in his face where his eyes should have been, and then began watching for what he knew would be milling about in this crowded place.
After a few minutes, he spotted them. A team of pickpockets, the group of them milling about. One would lift somebody’s money, and with a fluid precision, would pass it off to another one of their group, so if they were caught, there would be no evidence that they’d stolen anything. It was teams of thieves like this where Mirado had learned the art himself. He felt a small pang of regret as he walked past a pair of them, they were just trying to eke out a living, but they’d make up for it tomorrow.
The Miraluka pocketed the other pickpocket’s take as he walked past them, pausing to do so as he eyed the wares of a Givin jeweler. They were, of course, fakes, but Mirado assumed they were lovely pieces, as he had to push through to see them. While doing so, he lifted money from another few people. This process went on for a good hour before he felt he’d taken enough to finish out his task. As he walked away, he stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep the thieves from getting the money he’d stolen from them fair and square.
All in all, a decent take, he figured. He’d come away with about 5 wallets and about 400 in loose credits. Once he was well away from the market, he stopped to check his take, and was excited to see a few credcards. These he kept, and the cash within, the rest he threw away in a waste bin. From there, he moved to a public communications terminal, and began placing calls to the banks the cards were drawn on. Within about 30 minutes, he’d gotten the pin numbers changed, after claiming they weren’t working, and then took them to a moneychanger’s automatic teller. He plugged them in, used the handicapped service button, and discovered he was holding about 8 thousand in credits. More than enough.
Once finished with that task, he made a beeline to the public comm system, and placed a call to the Sidi Driss Inn, where he made reservations for a suite, and gave one of the credit cards for them to use for all transactions. Had he done it inside the Inn itself, they would have asked for ID, this way, they had a legit card instead. He told the receptionist that a business representative would be staying there, and told her his own name for who she should expect.
Once done, he went to the inn, claimed his suite key from the Pa'lowick receptionist, and requested a vehicle rental. He wasn’t sure what Shikyo had in mind, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt. So long as the card owner didn’t report it stolen for a few hours, things would be fine. Mirado figured Shikyo could mind trick the hotel workers if necessary, and if the Herald didn’t feel inclined, well, violence was ALWAYS an option.
Docking Platform 3
The Herald’s transporter landed a little earlier than anticipated as the Elder did not stop to relax for a moment before boarding the ship. His satchel contained two newly designed Silver Wolf blasters, his sabers, as well as a few bits of equipment he felt would be necessary for his mission. The pilot of the freighter looked back at his passenger and nodded before inputting coordinates and beginning liftoff procedures.
Shikyo sort of missed the feel of being at the helm of a capital ship and watching his destination slowly closing in on him. However, the feel of the transport brought back memories of his past, both the good and the bad. Days of drifting between planets came wafting through his psyche like the scent of newly bloomed flowers. Living humbly and taking jobs as they came until he dared to challenge a man who saw greatness in him.
Now, that greatness had been realized and he had served the brotherhood that gave him his family and a life worth living for many years. It was funny how quickly the Keibatsu could feel comfortable between the two lives. Rags or riches, humility or lavishly, it did not matter. The Elder had learned how to adapt and survive and for this, he was tasked to test these very skills in his fellow dark jedi.
Closing his eyes and resting against the bulkhead, the Krath savored the thought of the task to come.
Docking Bay 85
Unforgiving waves of heat challenged the Kyataran’s threshold for tolerance, as the Councilor stepped from the loading ramp and onto the sandy surface of the Force-forsaken planet. Shouldering his satchel and moving forward, officials from various trade companies approached the man with offers for prime hunting and pleasure either there or in nearby areas. Each nightclub and cantina sounded as tempting as the next but with a subtle nod and a grin, each man knew their place and moved aside.
Walking out into the City of Anchorhead, the sounds electrified the moment the blast doors opened. Various species screamed and squawked out to one another in excitement and anger over a variety of things. It was chaos in its most tame form. Smirking to himself, the Elder continued to walk down the streets, stretching out his senses for one who was more powerful in the Force than the residents. Like a magnet pulling towards and opposite charge, the Herald felt the presence he was searching for.
Parting his way through the crowd, Shikyo moved swiftly yet casually through as he prepared for the next steps of the journey.
Sitting quietly within the hotel suite, Mirado felt like he had all the time in the world. It was the magnificence of the backwater worlds, where time slowed down so much. Coruscant, Corellia, Nar Shadda even, were such fast, busy worlds, where people’s lives shot past them at light speed. Mirado had spent his time on these worlds, and generally hated them. In fact, it puzzled him as to why exactly people hated planets like this. Certainly, it was oppressively hot, to the point that he’d taken a shower the moment he’d gotten into the room, just wash the sweat off. It also stunk, but it was a natural odor, what with the animals and all. There was nothing chemical about it, just, the world around them.
After a short wait, Mirado flicked the holovision on, and flipped the remote control to a music frequency, filling the room with the sour tones of blues. It was said the best blues came from backwater worlds, and that’s something Mirado could agree with. The big, developed core worlds, there was less hassle there. Money was more plentiful, opportunity was much more common, and the attitude living there bred into people was one of ‘Hell with it.”
Clearly, in the vast Galaxy out there, it took real talent to lament one’s woes. Of course, Mirado mused as he absently sharpened his crescent knives, there was real catharsis in it as well. Nobody was immune to trouble, and in fact, the Dark Jedi tended to attract as much as they caused. It was the nature of the beast, and one could either swim, or one could sink. Bleeding out the toxic blood certainly helped the buoyancy.
As Mirado relaxed and sharpened his knives on an old river stone he’d carried with him since Dantooine, a flicker within the Force grew behind his eye sockets, expanding into a flare. With little in the way of reaction, Mirado simply put a few quick finishing touches on the now razor sharp blades, and slipped them back into his small of the back rig he preferred.
Silently, as he did all things, Mirado rose, gathered the rest of his things, put his stolen sunglasses on, and went downstairs. The Pa’lowick was off duty by that time, and a human woman was standing behind the desk. “Mirado L’eonheart, room 357.” He said simply.
“Yessir,” The woman behind the desk replied. Mirado offhandedly wondered if people thought her pretty. “What can the Sidi Driss inn do for you?”
“I’ll need a vehicle please.” He asked, pulling his cash wad from his pocket. The ripple in the Force had calmed, but was becoming more persistent, meaning he was coming dangerously close to wasting time. “Preferably enclosed, with climate control.”
“I have a V-35 courier model available. Will that be suitable?” She asked, her voice lilting a bit. Mirado attempted a smile, as he tended to forget his general demeanor was both off-putting and intimidating. Her general presence in the Force, what some would call an ‘aura’ seemed to settle a bit, so Mirado thought about whether or not he’d seen a V-35, and remembered the 29 ABY model as one his previous owner had kept in his fleet.
“That’d be fine, thank you.” Mirado said, dropping a stack of creds on the desk. The employee scooped them up gracefully, and handed Mirado the keys with a reminder he was paid up on the vehicle until the next day.
Mirado smiled at her again, nodded, and stepped outside. He flicked the activation fob and heard the alarm chirp. Because it flashed the headlamps, energy was produced, which allowed him to spot the thing in the side parking lot. He really, desperately hoped the thing wasn’t Bantha’s ass ugly, got in, and started it up. To his satisfaction, the engine lit up with a hum, and the repulsors pushed it up a meter off the sand.
As he pulled the speeder onto the Anchorhead streets, Mirado fiddled with the controls, and after discovering about a dozen music channels on the comm he wasn’t interested in, finally had cold air circulating in the cab. Feeling satisfied all in all, he drove to the Starport, and waited.
It was, fortunately, a short wait, as Shikyo opened the passenger side door and told Mirado to pop the speeder’s trunk. With a flick of a switch, the latch popped, and the hydraulics lifted, allowing Shikyo to put his small travel pack inside. Having done that, the Herald climbed inside the speeder and looked at his impromptu driver.
“Mos Eisley.” He said simply, and settled into his seat while Mirado reached through the Force, and felt for the centers of population. It was a long moment, as such feats through the Force weren’t a common practice for the Miraluka. Not too terribly far south was a much larger city.
They were driving for several minutes wordlessly, the only noise coming from the comm system, creating a background drone. Shikyo’s breathing had settled into a low, steady pattern, similar to sleeping, though he occasionally looked at some feature or another. The trip was quick, as Anchorhead was something of a suburb of Mos Eisley, but more than driving had happened in that short time. Through the Force, the Herald had reached out to touch the mind of the Knight driving the speeder. At first, he'd been cautious, but soon became disappointed that Mirado had offered almost no reflexive resistance. The Miraluka had been trained by a Son of Sadow, and was no stronger in the Force than most novices.
Once within his thoughts, however, things changed, though perhaps not much for the better. There was an astonishing stillness in the mind of the Miraluka. It wasn't like the trained stillness of a master in the ways of the Force, more the stillness of someone in complete control of themselves. It was boring, really. He didn't think about sex, he didn't have song lyrics stuck in his head, wasn't contemplating what he wanted to eat. He didn't even ponder conflict, though that came as no shock to the Keibatsu, as he too had 'Unlearned' his training as well. It was reflex, not design.
Determined for SOME kind of entertainment in the Obelisk's head however, Shikyo dug deeper, reaching into memories, and found more of interest. First was an insight into how a man with no eyes could see. While as much of it was feeling as anything else, the Miraluka could see in their own way. He likened it to what it would look like if someone were underwater, but invisible. There was form, and depth of shape, but defined only by shadow and highlight.
Still, there was recognizable detail, once he knew what he was looking at. After the occupation of Markosian City, Muz and many others had shown up in the wrecked city. Mirado had been watching from a rooftop, which was a recurring theme throughout most of the Ekind problems, and the strongest point was when the Herald's brother had caught the Miraluka's dim presence in the Force, and leveled a gaze directly at him. It was a fight or flight response strong enough that the Pepoi had jumped off the building in the same reckless leap that most Dark Jedi enjoyed, though with the rest of the Miraluka's memories, it seemed he climbed on top of tall things for the sheer purpose of leaping bodily from them.
Another memory was when Mirado, still going by the Venator moniker, had been tasked to track down Masika before she'd been brought into the Brotherhood. If nothing else, it cemented the fact that the assassin was an emotional retard. Shikyo could have dug deeper, but they were getting close to their destination, so he withdrew from Mirado's thoughts, and prepared himself for the next part of their trip.
Shikyo was being very cryptic about this whole endeavor, but instead of beating a dead ronto asking where they were going, Mirado just pulled into town, and began cruising the city, figuring Shikyo would tell him when and where he wanted to stop. It didn’t take long, as Shikyo pointed out a building, and simply said “Stop. We‘re here, get out.”
As asked, Mirado pulled the speeder to a stop, grabbed his things, and then went around to gather Shikyo’s bag for him. When the Miraluka offered the Herald his things, he asked “Where’s here?”
“You’ll see,” Shikyo said with a smarmy smirk, totally lost on the assassin.