Prophet of Bogan
Dandoran had long since been a refuge and even at times a scenic destination for the more criminally inclined of the galaxy and those seeking to get away from the usual trivialities and rules of daily life alike. Even in modern times local cartels and offworld criminal enterprises make use of clubs and gambling dens alongside hotels and vacation destinations freely without much fear of reprisal aside from simple competition. It was difficult to discern a legitimate holiday as for Dandoran from one that guised a criminal operation as a result.
On one of the planet's many lush meadows overlooking a grand lake, one which nowadays was often crowded by private and public yachts and skiffs enjoying the breeze and sunlit days, was one such cartel den embedded in a commercial boardwalk. Club Viscount was among the higher end of the entertainment offered at the destination for tourists and crimelords alike, featuring exotic dance routines and drinks that loosened credits as well as inhibitions. They even had their own famous crew of chefs that could be rented to cook and serve meals live for their patrons.
At present though there was no grand show or classy dinners being held, simply another normal business night where the club was filled with garish music and lights that drew its customers to flaunt themselves on the dancefloor alongside the club's professional dancers. Yet not even the blaring tunes could hide the sound of shattering glass and subsequent screams as the VIP booth window overlooking the main area was violently broken. Broken by the flying form of a rather sleazy Rodian who landed on the floor in a mixture of curses and pained groans, said Rodian being the manager of the establishment.
The disturber of the peace and ruiner of the mood set a heavy step on the edge of the now-broken window, looming over the injured form and shocked patrons below with the crimson glow of His lighsaber illuminating His figure and standing out amidst the other colorful lightning flashing throughout the club. Darth Strosius glared down at the Rodian below and stepped out of the booth, the floor cracking slightly at His landing and the Rodian himself just barely managing to roll out of the way in time to avoid being crushed beneath the armored form of the Sith Lord.
"Now, have you reconsidered your answer carefully yet? The Black Sun's Blackwing Facility excursion, tell me everything."