Callum Attar
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Jun 18, 2019
- Messages
- 80
- Reaction score
- 33
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Traps for
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Troubadours
Traps for
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Troubadours
Callum never had spent much time within capital ships, having spent most of his days avoiding those deemed capable enough to lead this much firepower like the plague. And when the Darth had told him there was some further explaining required, the Coruscantian assumed that they would move locations to somewhere the Mirialan felt more comfortable. Never had he anticipated it would've been a ship of this magnitude, in space. It went without saying that escape really had never been an option, but even still, this was a little much.
Around him was a spacious room, filled with monitors and information that was completely devoid of personnel aside from the Darth and the Acolyte. Spacious, and a certainly aesthetically pleasing, but practical and definitively overwhelming.
The trip this far had been exhausting, to say the least. Nerve-wracking didn't even begin to cover it. Every moment the Acolyte followed behind this green-skinned individual felt like he was being drawn deeper and deeper into the lion's den. Callum's singular solace was thinking of all the ways he was going to skin those sycophantic paper-pushers if he managed to get out of this in one piece. ... He wouldn't actually do no such a thing, of course. Tagus had found him by these individuals, and if they suddenly started showing up with fewer body-parts, the Sith Lord would no doubt notice.
So Callum walked, and walked, and waited, and now stood, in a Commander's Office wholly foreign to him, in silence, facing a being that could choose to end his existence, if he so wished, after having very recently deceived the man. The Acolyte had to admit, he'd looked better.
@Nefieslab