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OOC: This is going to suck but it seems the stress is taking its toll upon my writing, sorry.

Even in a galaxy plagued with the blight of chaos, certain patterns emerge. As constant as mathematical equations, these formulas tend to spread across the collective minds of the galactic populace like a mental wildfire. One such formula, or stereotype if you were to be so vulgar, centralized around Sith and their drinking habits.

Popular conception held that an addition of alcohol to Sith usually resulted in the division of body parts and subtraction of stable furniture. Whether this belief so commonly held by multiple systems is accurate or not was of little regard to the Dark Lord as he strode slowly into the cantina.

Nor did it matter to him the ease with which his form drew the gazes of the patrons so heavily upon his darkly clad back as he made his way to the bar. The dread maverick was on a mission and none would deter him.

"The usual". None were so bold as to inquire, or even dare wonder, why his response was met with the distinctive scrape of a data pad being slid across the bar in lieu of the normal sounds of glasses sliding sloppily.

Contrary to popular belief, it seemed, Sith were capable of calmly sipping their drinks: as evidenced while Churs nursed a flask of his own possession and read the contents of the data pad.

In truth, the Dread Lord anticipated no company. While a mere year previous had witnessed many a darkened corner occupied by plotting Sith and rapidly piling glasses, those who preferred such a venue had long since vanished from public sight. Tigon highly doubted the inebriated councils had been missed, as they tended to lead to violent altercations that threatened the integrity and structure of the establishment.

Yet it seemed a familiar stranger when the partial Clawdite, now using the genetic alterations of his new body to assume the appearance of his original form, felt the torrential flow of fickle thoughts cascading in his direction. At times his telepathy seemed a curse, such as when the Sith found himself in crowded areas with emotions running high. But now it served as a subtle blessing, the scrambled flood of thoughts pouring forth unbeknown to the Drayen gave Churs warning enough to disguise his surprise at the sudden return of the fellow Sith.

Tucking the data pad into his robe for later perusal, Rani gazed discreetly at the stool next to his. Rogan's brethren would of course understand the gesture unless his time away from the frozen embrace of Ziost had not been kind to his memory. In addition to the invite, a mandatory invite albeit, the maverick had only word to say in greeting. For now at least, after all who knew what ears or minds may intrude upon private conversations in such a place.

"Explain." The Darth had no doubt the reason for Cel's absence would be a valid one, but the story still needed to be told before they could move on to a more secure location and more sinister topics.

OOC: Call me lazy but I'm consolidating some of my obligations into this one post to make the best of my time and energy. Cel, this will be your return to the Sith thread/mission briefing/whatever, etc. Lan, this will serve as your training for lightsaber combat for which you'll need 80 words since you're training under me. In the interest of not waiting on my admittedly slow bum feel free to disregard the posting order and respond to each other and the environment as you see fit to keep things moving and the plot progressing.

IC:

Had either of his followers been of an observant inclination they would have noticed that the azure Sith held no suspicions, or even interest, in either of the pair at this precise moment. For his mind was occupied with grander things, dark despicable things that would shake the very foundations of the established galaxy and tear many worlds and lives asunder. Cel's answer, however brief, had been validation enough for Churs. Lanya's arrival however, was just as welcome as far as he was concerned, for although the dreaded wild card had his thoughts on other matters his loyal brethren held the potential to enable his plans to escape the confines of his demented skull and infect reality.

"Lanya, we require a distraction." Rani stated simply, reaching deep into the expansive folds of his cloak and producing a training saber as he spoke.

"Be wary of your footing and surroundings. Never let your guard down." Advised the Sith Lord as he employed the Force into enacting his will and sending Lanya's newly arrived drink crashing into a nearby patron.

Show them no mercy. Whispered the dread master into her mind as he turned to the Drayen kin once again.

"Your explanation is satisfactory…now what have you to report?"