Breaker of Chains
Bailiff Station hung over the world of Faldos as it always did, serene in its vigil over the world. What had once been a haven for smugglers of the Outer RIm had now been bent and reshaped into something far more orderly and militaristic, all by the guiding iron fist of a single Sith. Darth Strosius stared out at the planet beyond his office's window, peering into it as though he could see all the way to the surface below. As though he could spot the citizens of the world milling about and making their way in their daily affairs and duties. Faldos was more than just his base of operations in Sith space, it was a shining example of what he was capable of. A world of smugglers had been transformed into the main staging ground and recruitment center for a Sith Lord's forces and had even managed to produce weapons of war for the wider Sith Order as well.
It was especially impressive when one considered that the world was technically, at least as official records were concerned, still under military occupation with no real governor aside from the commander of the occupation forces. Which of course would be himself, the Lord Inquisitor of an Inquisition that was no longer an official entity of the state as it had been before the Ouroboros Crisis. His eyes closed for a moment as he thought of the Crisis, of the Tsis'Kaar's attempted coup and civil war that had resulted in the death of the Pale Assassin herself. It hadn't gone as he had planned, but given that he was still alive and in some position of power clearly his hidden machinations were still very much hidden.
There was only one other being in the galaxy, that he knew of, that knew of just how and why the Crisis truly began. A click resounded from his desk's communication console as a message came through from the station's control center. :"Darth Malum's ship has arrived in system my lord, we are escorting it in to dock now.": Speak of the Sith, and he shall appear. Darth Strosius spun around in his chair with a wave of his hand and sat up to tap on the console's panel. "Excellent. Have him directed to my office the moment that he sets foot on the station." He was about to pull his finger away from the communicator but paused as he considered something for a moment. "And have a bottle of wine from the council's stash alongside some glasses brought to my office as well, thank you." The perks of owning a former smuggler world did come in handy when entertaining guests.
The masked man idly rolled his shoulders and sat up straight as he fixed his gaze on the door to his rather sparsely decorated office, his hands folded on the desk before him. The two former apprentices of Darth Ophidia had hardly gotten a chance to speak yet, even with her death having been some time ago now. They had both been far too busy for idle chatter after all. That was what he told himself at least, but he also knew that Malum hadn't taken the news of his involvement with orchestrating the Crisis particularly well. He could certainly understand the lingering shock and perhaps even betrayal that may have soured their already odd relations. So hopefully a bit of wine and some calm discussion would soothe things enough for the Tsis'Kaar's affairs to be settled amongst its leaders, rather than being dictated to by their foes like in that awful trial a short time ago.
Darth Malum of House Marr
It was especially impressive when one considered that the world was technically, at least as official records were concerned, still under military occupation with no real governor aside from the commander of the occupation forces. Which of course would be himself, the Lord Inquisitor of an Inquisition that was no longer an official entity of the state as it had been before the Ouroboros Crisis. His eyes closed for a moment as he thought of the Crisis, of the Tsis'Kaar's attempted coup and civil war that had resulted in the death of the Pale Assassin herself. It hadn't gone as he had planned, but given that he was still alive and in some position of power clearly his hidden machinations were still very much hidden.
There was only one other being in the galaxy, that he knew of, that knew of just how and why the Crisis truly began. A click resounded from his desk's communication console as a message came through from the station's control center. :"Darth Malum's ship has arrived in system my lord, we are escorting it in to dock now.": Speak of the Sith, and he shall appear. Darth Strosius spun around in his chair with a wave of his hand and sat up to tap on the console's panel. "Excellent. Have him directed to my office the moment that he sets foot on the station." He was about to pull his finger away from the communicator but paused as he considered something for a moment. "And have a bottle of wine from the council's stash alongside some glasses brought to my office as well, thank you." The perks of owning a former smuggler world did come in handy when entertaining guests.
The masked man idly rolled his shoulders and sat up straight as he fixed his gaze on the door to his rather sparsely decorated office, his hands folded on the desk before him. The two former apprentices of Darth Ophidia had hardly gotten a chance to speak yet, even with her death having been some time ago now. They had both been far too busy for idle chatter after all. That was what he told himself at least, but he also knew that Malum hadn't taken the news of his involvement with orchestrating the Crisis particularly well. He could certainly understand the lingering shock and perhaps even betrayal that may have soured their already odd relations. So hopefully a bit of wine and some calm discussion would soothe things enough for the Tsis'Kaar's affairs to be settled amongst its leaders, rather than being dictated to by their foes like in that awful trial a short time ago.
Darth Malum of House Marr