One would think that a man responsible for the lives of trillions would have not a second to spare for the Sultana. As time moved ever forward, the threat of war arriving on his doorstep seemed to only increase. Therefore, there was not a moment of respite that the man took; and therefore, there was never a word to the Sultana for her dipping performance. One might have assumed...that he simply did not care any longer. One might have even believed that the whispers of his place among the Tribunal were just that - whispers. Rumors. Smoke in the wind. Yet, before the seeds of that deception could truly take root, Cim Salro had been summoned.
Not to the very public offices on Golbah City.
Not to the densely packed Super Star Destroyers.
But to the quiet, isolated, Floating Gardens of Ryloth.
The chime of her voice did not fall upon empty ears as she called out into the stones. The succulent accent echoed soundly between the suspended earth, prompting the crunch of footsteps upon the thirsty ground. In but a moment, the Anzat's eyes would be greeted with an Obsidian sight. It was not the Devil she expected who had come to meet her, but one of his countless agents. His Knights. Under a hood and behind a mask were the agent's features obscured - but stature alone would betray his gender as male. He approached in silence, uttering not a word to the woman as he drew near.
Yet the silence would be broken when he reached for his belt. For a moment, gloved digits graced the hilt of the lightsaber hanging there...before clutching the disc adjacent to its form. The agent held it out, indicating that the Sultana should hearken to what was to come. A simple press of his finger opened the connection and an azure projection erupted into being. The Devil himself, seated upon his throne, burned into being upon the holodisc.
"Greetings, Miss Salro." came the thunderous baritone of his voice. Though his words were simple, the professional kindness that once colored his tone was long gone. There was a flatness there. An edge, born of impatience.
"You have faltered in our bargain. This...simply will not do." Darth Metus shook his head, cementing his disappointment. Cim already understood what Sith were like when they were disappointed. Failure often meant an early demise and an immediate replacement.
"But...I have been listening. Even my brightest star would not be able to fulfill her duties if the one she loved the most was taken away. And yet you carry on. Slowly. But you carry on."
The Sith leaned forward in his seat. Although he was light years away, the weight of his sulfuric gaze was palpable.
"And so I will give you grace, just this once. The decline in your end, I will forgive due to your grief. But that ends today. You will perform as expected - else there will be consequences."
The agent's grasp stiffened about the holodisc. Yet still he said nothing whilst the Devil spoke.
"Now...considering how things have been, I will be taking a much more...hands on approach moving forward. I gift you this agent, who will report to me, but who will also be your mightiest ally. If memory serves, you two know each other quite well."
"Isn't that right, Nydo?"
The connection ceased.
The holodisc fell to the earth, as "Nydo" reached out. There was no malice in his touch. No murderous intent as his fingertips graced her cheek. His form shuddered the instant the warmth of the Sultana met his glove.
"Minx, is this real?"
His voice...it was different. But he would...feel the same. The Devil made certain of that.
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