The Dark Academy on Korriban

From the Near Wastes straight to the bar. Beaten, bloodied, bruised, Kristal had been through hell and a half and had one thing she needed before she went anywhere else. In short, Kristal Serasai looked quite like someone who had just been blown up. The Infirmary could wait a moment. Pulling up a seat at the bar she decided on waiting before she would order a drink.

A drink is placed before her by a droid.

"Droid, paid for by whom?" she asked the droid, leaning forward.

It was a long shot, she knew that, the person down the hall who had no idea what was going on that and even the droid, regardless of it's level of sentience, knew that. However, there wasn't any harm in trying. Even a fake name was enough to be able to toast to.

“Greetings my lord, this drink was paid by a customer on the second floor. Private booth six,” the droid says and then moves along.

Came all this way, can't not continue to follow the thread. Collecting her drink Kristal made her way to booth Six. Clothing still lightly singed from the explosion in some places and quite torn in others. Despite looking and feeling like someone who survived an explosion she merely pressed on.

A hologram image of the man from the cave who turned out to be a droid is sitting with a drink in hand. He gives a nod and says, “I apologize for not being there in person. You look dreadful though a smidge better than dead, which is unfortunate. I will have to adjust our data on your capabilities.”

“I do hope we can keep this professional.”

It inspired a low, slightly pained chuckle finding just the image there. Taking the assumed seat across from him she slowly, due to those wounds, settled in. "You'll have to afford me the courtesy of your presence next time. I am sure you've learned that much at least."

In a moment of rare civility to some, she raised her glass, "To a healthy professional relationship."

“It is always a pleasure to work with a fellow professional. I am curious how your survived the explosion, it was calibrated for close range annihilation. Well either way, message delivered, mission done. Your survival was unexpected but a slight possibility,” he says taking a drink.

“Cipher-3, it is a pleasure all the same.”

"You've quite the method of delivering a message, or perhaps I should thank the one who sent you for the bit of flair involved?" She said, taking her own drink. Risks and possibilities all taken into account by the time she had sat down. If he wanted to kill her that way he would have done it last night.

"Kristal Serasai, you already know but I won't deny you a proper introducion."

“Proper decorum is the hallmark of a civilized society, Kristal. Do you mind if I use Kristal? I feel a great deal of familiarity, but I would not wish to assume, my lord.”

“I rather detest explosions, imprecise and often lead to collateral damage. I prefer precision, surgical precision. I would never personally engage a Sith at close range, Sith and Jedi are four times deadlier at close range than most opponents. Lightsabers are antiquated weapons, but effective antiquated weapons.”

He takes drink and then sets the glass aside outside the scope of the hologram.

“As you have surmised, I am just a messenger.”

"Nothing quite brings a pair of people closer than trying to kill one another, a shame I was not afforded the courtesy to return," she said as she sipped at her glass once again, setting it down before her. Interweaving her fingers as she lay her hands on the table.

"There is an honor in the blade, one many must forego. However, there can be another time for a discussion of that merit. What has me curious is the message you were sent to deliver. If it was merely that there is someone out there with power and influence that wants me dead, and wanted to show they could, I could and have learned that from merely watching the news. If that is all that there is, I find it a shame that your potential was wasted on such a frivolous task."

"If Sylvain were to hear of this, the inefficiency of it all may very well stop his beating heart where he stood."

“Darth Baras’ apprentice would find this all terribly wasteful, but I don’t make the command decisions. I find it egregious to use such resources in this manner but one does not say no to a Sith, well perhaps you might but the rest of us don’t have that luxury,” he says warmly.

“Well the message is not for you, though in a way it works better this way. You do not have to flatter me though, I pride myself in my work, but in this case it was only satisfactory. Perhaps just barely satisfactory.”

"Thankfully for you, you were not sent here to kill me." There was a bit of a confidence with those words, but perhaps in this instance they would not appear as arrogant as another time might. After all, she had survived.

"It is a shame that you are under the heel of a Sith whom would send you after an aspirant to merely send a message. As pleasant as this chat has been, Cipher-3, I do hope it is the last time we will have to cross paths," she said, taking another sip from the drink she earned today.

"I have to ask who it was, though I do not expect you will tell me, but I cannot pass up the chance at saving myself some doubt with only a few words."

“Classified, I don’t even know the identity, just that it came down the Sith channels. I simply execute my orders, the mission comes first. My life for the Empire and all that,” he says with serious verve.

“I do hope we can put this unpleasantness behind us in the future. Imperial assets working against each other only lead to dysfunction and chaos. I do understand if you wish to harbor ill feelings. Unfortunate but understandable.”

“As it stands I am approaching my destination. Glory to the Empire.”

The hologram disappears.

Not just anybody then, someone with serious pull. Perhaps even the man that set up her father, the one who actually schemed to kill Torsin's. A romantic thought, in a way, but Kristal was a Serasai and a soldier. That left no room for getting ahead of herself with guessing at things she wasn't sure of.

Overall, she was getting used to the idea of people trying to kill her. Was that odd? Perhaps that was part of even becoming Sith perhaps. No use for speculation there either she supposed. At the very least she had a pleasant drink in hand and a private booth to herself for a little while.

Then, seeing to the injuries that still reminded her they were there every time she moved.