Two Very Different Masters (Christian Slade)

[Ak'lya]

The office of the Viceroy was often filled with strange and varying characters, from other Viceroys, to old friends, to Templars, to visiting dignitaries, to, worst of all, whining politicians. Strask hated it some days.

This was not one of them.

One could tell, if they saw him, that he was nervous. He moved around the room, hiding the scattered pages and holodisks and whatnot. His personal office was always filled with new, unsorted infodisks, and today was no different. But he was storing them away. Someone had reliably informed him that a Sith Lord, [member="Christian Slade"], was coming to the planet. And Strask seemed to think that he would come here. And, as usual before any meeting, he readied the array of recording equipment. What recording equipment?

Well, we here do you think all those infodisks came from, anyways?

 

[Christian Slade]

Venturing to the planet of Bothawui hadn't taken too much time out of Christian's routine, but he'd never visited the planet and in instances like the he was always reserved and kept to himself. He knew who to was he was going to talk to that day, but he wasn't the best at first meetings and chose to first go to a bar upon first arriving at the planet. It was an interesting bar knowing as the Rickety Spigot, and it was there that he would stay until he was summoned.

He was no fool. He was well aware that his presence was already being talked about and that the man he was intending to see was already aware that he was there. The force had told him that this was the very place he needed to be, and there he was, sitting on a bar stool enjoying a glass of whiskey at the bar.

[member="Strask Ak'lya"]

 

[Ak'lya]

"Sir?" A voice on the intercom said. "[member="Christian Slade"] has been reported on planet, but has not been seem since leaving the spaceport."

Sighing, Strask replied. "All right. Tell Crem to locate him."

"Bring him in?" The secretary asked, his voice seemingly confident. But he knew better.
"No. I'll go to him. No need to waste the resources if he doesn't want to come." And with that, the Spymaster stepped away from his desk, gathered his things, and went to the spaceport Christian had arrived in.

 

[Christian Slade]

Sitting there at the bar enjoying his peace and quiet before he would be entertaining company the Sith Lord began to hear whispers. His hearing was heightened by the force, and he listened to those whispers, many interesting things heard as he waited, most of them about a rather large man at the bar. He even heard one man, who sounded like an informant, reporting his whereabouts.

He was about to rise from his seat and confront the informant, but something held him in that seat. The force wasn't warning him of any danger, and so he didn't bother making any trouble as he sipped from his glass of whiskey.

[member="Strask Ak'lya"]

 

[Ak'lya]

As he searched the spaceport, the Viceroy was interrupted by a young bothan.girl, probably about six."Mister Viceroy, sir?" Instantly, one of the spaceport guards rushed to her, telling her to quiet down and that the Viceroy was to busy to be bothered. Sighing, Strask turned around.
"It's fine." He said th the guard. Then, kneeling down so that his face was level to the girl's he asked "What is it?"
"My mom's dieing, and we don't have the money to help her." As she spoke, the bothan's face fell. Her story was eerily similar to his own. But before he could speak, Crem signed in, reporting that [member="Christian Slade"] was at a cantina called the Rickety Spigot.
Looking up to the guard, he said, "Take her to wherever she calls home, and check her mother into the Templar Hospital. Then, you're off for today." The man nodded, and escorted her away. Pausing, he asked, "Are you paying?" He nodded, and the man walked off. Strask headed to the cantina.

 

[Christian Slade]

"I'll take my next drink in one of the booths in the back.", Christian said, rising from his seat and taking a sip from his glass of whiskey. As he did he was pointing to the back of the bar, showing the bartender where he'd be.

"Go ahead and start working on that drink, by the way.", he said, turning and heading across the room. "I'll be done with this one shortly.", he called over his shoulder while he weaved his way through tables, trying not to disturb anyone else in the bar. He did so hate drawing attention to himself, especially when it was already on him. He certainly didn't need any more.

[member="Strask Ak'lya"]