"Have a sense of humour.  We've got an entire chunk of the galaxy in the palm of our hands now."  Said a starchy voice to the side of Baromir.  Lord Lieutenant Saul Tarsus.  He was off his leash for the first time in a long while, sitting at the bar in an immaculate white naval coat, his hat tucked underneath his arms while his brass buttons gleamed even in the dim light of the bar.  Lord Tarsus bore the mark of the xeno; the large, pointy ears which plagued the crew of the<em>Kobras Aquairre.</em>He tried to distract from it by growing out his curly dark brown hair, but with his slight figure, it just made him look more alien.  At the establishment he sat at, though, it was his alert, erect posture and his glass of water that marked him as an outsider that night.  At The Blind Eye, everyone might be on their guard, but making a show of it was just ridiculous.  Lord Tarsus never drank, not even stimcaf.  Most put it down to his interpretation of the Imperial Creed, but one never really did know with Lord Tarsus.<br/><br/>"If our august leader has to share his ploin juice with the daughters of Imperial commanders to get us a warrant like we have, then I say let him.  It's good to be doing something worthy of our namesake, for once.  Kobras Aquairre razed over 150 planets, you know, and they're still discovering more."  Lord Tarsus said, smiling very softly and showing off his perfectly white teeth.  The senior officer had only one thing that might even be close to a passion, and that was studying the history of Exterminatus.  His quarters were filled with perfectly organized rows of files depicting methods and results of civilizations wiped out by the Imperium, and he seemed to find nothing more fascinating than to pore over them, even for days on end on long voyages.  For a man who owned five gorgeous women as slaves and often kept them chained up in his quarters, Lord Tarsus spent remarkably little time attending to them.  Shipboard humor suggested that he owned so many wives just so that they could take care of each other, so that he wouldn't have to attend them.  Not that his quarters would ever require cleaning, or his clothes ever require ironing.  In the 200 years of his career, Lord Tarsus' uniform had been out of sorts only once, during a shipboard fire.  Even then, rumors circulated that he paused to smooth out the ruffles in his coat while actually on fire.