Summoning a Storm

[Y'roth Helghast]

The door opened to the small suite. She had been relocated in his absence as her former place of residence within the Citadel on Coruscant was now being... redecorated. Helghast had been gone for some time and he'd already read over all the logs IMP had kept on her. Nothing that Helghast would consider even moderate by his standards could be observed but he knew that she hadn't been left to her own devices for as long and just remained in the dark of all things about her.

The initial room smelled of alcohol and as if something faint had been burning for hours. Walking into the living room, he found the scent of alcohol. Containers littered here and there, by the couch, on the coffee table, at the bar that sectioned off the kitchen. There was only the fresher, connected to the her bedroom and the living room. The door to both the bathroom and the bedroom were locked. Wise, as the Inquisitoriate could enter the suite at any time if need be. Not that her locked doors would keep them at bay either, merely secured an ounce of privacy. The candles posted here and there inside the room betrayed the incense and Helghast concluded it was a cultural preference, possibly linked to something with her adept history.

Helghast stood in the center of the room with his arms crossed. He wore his black officer uniform and the blood red insignia on shoulder and left side of his chest. The last time Helghast had seen Hera was shortly after Mission Anesthesia. He'd still been simply a Major then, not a full Inquisitor. Not that rank had any effect on her or that Helghast cared for it in regards to him. But his agenda had been decidedly pushed forward. The others standing outside Hera's suite were living testimony to that. His right eye flared a bright red as the implant actively searched the room. IMP flitted about the kitchen and suite, surveying the area, the stream of information sliding down the side of Helghast's organized perception. IMP glanced towards the locked doors, moved to them, confirmed that Hera was inside and then shifted back to it's master's shoulder.

The locked doors opened by some unseen command and Helghast called out from where he stood in the living room. His enhanced vision picked her body out, still in bed, visible from where he stood, asleep by her breathing pattern and pulse. A peaceful repose for such a wicked creature. And he was about to awaken it.

"Hera Drenkast."

[Hera]

It was rare for Hera to go on a bender. Or, at least, it had been.

Apart from the occassional celebratory excess in her past for events that warranted such indulgence, the Sith had always held her alcohol well. Enjoying it, but not becoming undone by it. Always keeping her discipline.

Even in the confinement forced upon her by the Inquisitoriate, rum had been a small stress reliever, never a source of personal obliteration. But life was not what it had once been.

For too long, Hera had been watched and monitored every waking - and sleeping - hour. Things had only gotten more stringent about her after what was only haltingly referred to by a brave few, and never openly, as the Valten incident. And she was starting to crack.

It had started as the odd night, sitting long hours in her solitary suite. With rum as her only company, the warm, smooth liquor hazed her clamouring thoughts to a muffled din, enabling her to eventually drop into a leaden sleep. This behaviour had spiralled from 'the odd night' to become 'every other' night. The room where Helghast was now standing an obvious example of her deteriating state. And it was after just such an occassion that Helghast had come calling.

His voice -- a sound that still caused Hera an involuntary shudder -- pressed into her consciousness like a red-hot poker. She roused, slowly raising her head - and regretting the action bitterly as the throbbing it caused almost blinded her. She peered blearily, and painfully, from the pillows at her closed door.

Helghast.....What now.

She pulled a pillow down over her head and groaned into it. She was not up for Helghast and his particular brand of scotch today.

Maybe he'd go away.

[Y'roth Helghast]

IMP flitted into the room, red light from its' receptors bathed the bed. A small arm extended, at the end of it was a very sharp object, often used during interrogations to stimulate a sharp response in the nervous system, a very painful response. It made a glimpse of contact with the female before quickly darting back out of the room.

IMP also had a blood sample now, analyzing the basics of medical data and transmitting them to Helghast as ordered. The Inquisitor wanted all information on Hera updated and he didn't have time for her antics either.

"Adept, don't waste our time."

Ours, as in hers as well. Helghast would almost consider that he was doing the wild card personality a favor by giving her something to do after she seemed to be adjusting to complacency so well in her prison.

[Hera]

"Frack!"

Hera leapt halfway across the bed in a tumble of powdery white quilts. The sharp jab of IMPs needle had jolted her to movement, and the abominable pounding in her brain as blood rushed upward to it ,and then outward from it to her suddenly animated extremities, halted it.

She held her head between both hands and moaned pitifully. She'd smash that little demented orb into shrapnel -- once the room stopped spinning.

Hera closed her eyes tightly. Wishing Helghast gone was just not going to work.

She released a large exhale in an effort to ease out the drumming from her head. Reaching with one hand, Hera embarked on a search mission for the side drawer. After a momentary exploratory groping, she located the handle and pulled it open. Scooping up a couple of headache pills that were rolling loosely about in its depth, Hera tossed them in her mouth, swallowed hard and felt them drop one after the other down her gullet. Another groan, and then she rolled herself out of the blankets to stand unsteadily on the carpet.

She walked with heavy plodding steps to the door, throwing on a quilted dressing gown as she went, and emerged in a determinedly unhappy state into the living area.

"What do you want Helghast? One of your lab rats died and you need a spare carcass to torture?"

[Y'roth Helghast]

Helghast didn't care what she looked like as long as she came along in a fast enough manner. He only needed one lab rat at the moment and that was her, and alive to boot. She was too prideful, blinded by her former adept status in life to be grateful for that which she still had.

"I am departing again soon and you will accompany me."

The Inquisitor had a number of things to accomplish, in a limited amount of time and half of his agenda was still dependent upon Valten and receiving his clearance and permission to proceed. He wasn't one to indulge Hera's questions either. She had no immediate priority and she would present enough when the better part of his plans were explained together.

[Hera]

"Oh, a trip is it?"

Hera pushed a hand through her dishevelled hair and thought on this news.

What was Helghast up to now? To no good, of course -- not if she was invited.
She wondered if Valten knew about this new little jaunt. The new Grand Inquisitor was already suspicious of Helghasts activities and it was beginning to dawn on Hera that he may be right after all.

She had not spoken to Valten in quite some time. Her popularity with him had declined somewhat. This was amusing, to a degree, but Hera actually found she missed the interaction with him. He was a smart man, and had some emotion to him. Not like robot over there who was taking her off on some unholy adventure.

"Is Valten coming with us?"

She didn't know why she'd asked, or why it should even matter to her. Even though she and Valten were at odds, if she were really honest, she knew she would feel much better if he was there and she not be left to Helghast's company alone. Valten was a force that even Helghast could not disregard.

[Y'roth Helghast]

"No, the Grand Inquisitor will not be coming. You are wasting time. Within the hour, you will be brought into audience with the Grand Inquisitor and myself."

His gaze rested on her, but he didn't even have the emotional compulsion to convey upon his face any of the contempt Helghast had voiced. This thing, this stunted adept was so in the dark without her intuitive abilities. The question as to Valten's presence or not conveyed an interest and so many more details that Hera was obviously unaware of. She was a prime example of information control and how easily things could be twisted in the engulfing darkness of ignorance.

"Do not tarry. IMP and..."

And the door to Hera's suite suddenly opened.

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

Of course, the machine-made-man didn't even falter upon my entrance. He knew that I knew what he was thinking from outside and I can introduce myself, thank you very much, Inquisitor.

I had sensed this moment as I entered the floor with the Inquisitor and Journeyman Fortinbras.

Journeyman, yes, but Ivan Fortinbras III would always be my adept apprentice in my eyes. A blessing and a curse for him in many ways.

But where was I? I'm so old these days and time is still something I have yet to master. My walking stick? Yes, my walking stick. It made a loud thunking noise against the floor as I used it for support while I attempted to step over a number of emtpy containers in my path. Someone must've been incredibly thirsty or near dehydration, assuming all of these held hydro. To be honest, glancing at the label, I've no clue what these multitudes of companies could be selling but then again my vision isn't as good as it used to be and I can't make it out either. But to business. To this Hera Drenkast.

The old man was tall and the hood of his mantle hung over his balding head. His garb was ornate, fitting of his position, and even though he walked slowly and in a slightly stooped manner, carrying the burden of age, there was still a strong regal presence about him. He stood beside Inquisitor Helghast and looked to the bedraggled female infront of them both. His eyes, shadowed beneath the cowl, were yellow and had a sick golden glean to them. The hand that grasped the staff that was taller than Helghast was covered in skin that appeared to already be decomposing, black veins were prominent on its surface. He dropped his head in the most of a bow that the old man could make, his other arm slowly sweeping in front of him.

"Good day, m'Lady. I am Zedrich Rommelisch, Magister Mage at your service."

His voice was still strong, as if he had actually been young at some point. And it was charismatically pleasant to hear, surprisingly. The accent was thick but only in that it made Basic sound more aggressive and some would say even better pronounced.

A caged lioness, I say. And I can see it, in this woman, ah but if only...

[Hera]

Mage?

Hera slid suspicious eyes to Helghast, whom returned her look nonplussed.

She should be outraged at the abrupt appearance of this decrepit stranger hobbling his noisy way into her living room uninvited, but at the present instant, she was just glad he'd stopped thunking that darn stick on the floor. The headache pills had not even touched her throbbing brain, and now she had a thousand-year-old party crasher to contend with.

Wait, at her service? Hera's suspicions deepened and she took a closer look at the new arrival.

The man was ancient though his voice was a contrast to the image presented before her. His embroidered cowl, pulled low about his face, almost hid his eyes and Hera stooped slightly in order to peer into them. The action made the room roll slightly, and she suppressed the urge to stagger.

"Do you always just stroll in to a woman's home unannounced, Mr Rommelisch? If I were a female of the more prudish persuasion, I should be offended." She looked briefly at Helghast and back before remarking, "But I'm used to such disregard, and frankly, a new aquaintance is welcome"

Zedrich's eyes were yellow. And his hands veined black. This mage had a story behind him, and it drew her curiosity.

Again the thought presented itself - What was Helghast up to?

She turned back to the Inquisitor, who stood immobile, yet exuded an air of restrained impatience. He was in a hurry, as he'd already said, but Hera had noticed she was gaining a sense of Helghast's body language - minute as it was. She would be smart not to try him too far today. There were times when one could push these Nightmare's and not suffer too unduly for it. Other times..Hera arrested the unpleasant memories of previous misjudgements and pushed her thoughts back to the here and now.

She wanted to ask Y'roth a barage of questions - what did the Grand Inquisitor want? What was the big hurry? Had something unexpected happened to require such haste? And to what purpose was the Mage?

Instead, she stated the banal.

"I dont know what the deal is with the wizard, but Im sure Ill find out. First though, I need a shower. And something to eat."
She added, baiting him despite her own counsel of a moment ago, "I'd ask you to join me, Helghast, but I know we're in a hurry."

She spared a rare respectful smile for Rommelisch in parting, "Magister Mage, please sit if you will be more comfortable."

[Y'roth Helghast]

Helghast looked down to the Mage for a brief moment before he turned around and left the room. IMP remained in his wake, the slightest of avatars representing Helghast's technical omnipresence.

Outside the suite, the figure in blood red robes shifted away from the wall he was leaning against as Helghast exited. Ivan Fortinbras III fell in behind the Inquisitor silently, the Journeyman Mage was more than aware of his place in the galaxy and had worked with Helghast only a few times before this, before Helghast had been an Inquisitor, or a Nightmare. Nothing had changed, from Fortinbras' opinion.

The adept, Hera, was currently of no serious concern to Helghast. Magister Rommelisch was no longer an authority to Helghast's rank but the elderly adept had proven himself time and time again in the service of the Empire and defied any suspicion of corruption, devoting his abilities and advantages completely to furthering the goals of the Empire. The Emperor had brought the Mages to his call and Rommelisch had answered, even in times of darkness, and even after the great man who had made that call was gone, Rommelisch had brought the Mages even closer to the heart of the Empire, embracing it with open hearts, open minds, open souls. Helghast had no second thoughts about leaving the two adepts alone.

The doors to the turbolift opened in response to Helghast as he approached them as once the following Mage had stepped onto the turbolift, the doors closed, the system controls setting the destination within the Citadel to the Grand Inquisitor's reception chamber.

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

Why if the Inquisitor doesn't jump on that offer to join the lonely lass in her shower... Maybe in a day long past... Oh? Leaving so soon, Inquisitor? That's really too bad, I had figured we could have another heated debate on the legal specifics of immigrants to the Empire again. But about taking her up on that seat. Yes, I would be much more comfortable, sithspawn, I'd be more comfortable if I wasn't the man of action I used to be. I'd just have myself one of those platforms, like a hutt, sit around and eat and hover hither and thither... Repulsing.

"Your hospitality is appreciated, m'Lady."

The old man hobbled to a couch as the door closed behind the departed Inquisitor. His other hand was wrapped delicately in black silks, strapped tightly in fine leathers; it gently supported his light frame on the arm rest of the couch while he leaned his walking stick against the wall and then eased himself down until he could safely collapse into the couch. Zedrich had to ease himself up slightly and reach behind him to remove the bottle that was now suddenly poking into his back but he tossed it aside with little care and then looked to the adept with half a grin on his pale face, his greying beard helped darken his complexion some though.

"I'd apologize for intruding and introduce myself more but I'm to understand that you're in a hurry and I won't be the one to keep you, m'lady."

Still a thick, charming accent, but it wasn't enough to hide the clever humor there. Hera wasn't in any kind of willing urgency to comply with the Inquisitor, that was blatantly obvious. She was not one to take kindly to orders, as she shouldn't be.

Zedrich wasn't entirely sure that his presence was altogether that motivating but he knew what Helghast was about this girl. The Inquisitor wouldn't share it and most of the machine-made-man's thoughts were guarded against subtle empathy and mind reading, but Rommelisch, a man who had watched the Inquisitoriate weave webs since its foundation and he was skilled and discerning the patterns in them. The real question was, what did the young Y'roth Helghast hope for Zedrich Rommelisch to gain from it?

The old man leaned back, parting the folds of his robes slightly so his legs could stretch a bit. He didn't remember his boots weighing that much before, they seemed so much heavier these days. Even his dagger seemed to have a sinking weight to it, strapped to his leg, the ornate blade was lighter than a feather but Rommelisch supposed that when one was this old, even the air one breathed had its weight on the ancient.

[Hera]

"Ordinarily" she replied as Zedrich settled himself on the couch, "I'd not rush so obediently, but I really do need a shower. Im afraid you've not caught me at my finest. I wont be long, you can tell me about yourself more when I return in a presentable state."

She paused momentarily before stepping through her bedroom door, "Dont touch anything."

Hera was all for hospitality (though this largely fluctuated with her moods) but she didn't know ol' Rommelisch from Vader and be damned if she'd give him free reign of the joint.

The refresher was..refreshing. But not as much as the steaming water she splashed generously on her face. Its heat went a long way to restoring her equilibrium again. She dressed with her typical combination of neatness and efficiency - pants, long sleeved t-shirt, boots - all a deep grey color, giving her an overall streamlined appearance. She emerged quite the contrast to her dowdy-robed, bed-headed look of 20 minutes earlier.

She re-entered the living area to find the Mage sitting quietly, by all appearances not having moved even a muscle in her absence. IMP, also, seemed to have remained static. A knock at the door pre-empted any opening remark and Hera crossed the room to answer it.

"Ah, breakfast!" she announced with relish. She had called down for coffee and pancakes before her shower and the timing could not have been better. She took the tray from the silent delivery 'aide' and sat adjacent to Zedrich.

Hera swept the evidence of last night's indulgence to one end of the low coffee table with her free hand. Two rum bottles, a dish of congealed something-or-other and a bowl that boasted a handful of now-stale chips. Lifting the cover off of a large plate, the smell of buttermilk wafted up invitingly. The upside to her whole captivity amongst the Imperials could be summed up in this right here - a four-stack and syrup. She drizzled some of the treacally delight on the center of the top pancake, then rolled it up and took half of it off in one bite. She nudged the tray towards Rommelisch. "Hwelp youwrself, they're gwood."

Finishing the first pancake amid appreciative "mmm-ings", Hera initiated conversation before reaching for the coffee.

"We still have some time before the audiance with the Grand Inquisitor and Helghast, Im curious, Magister, as to why you are here visiting me. Is it my misfortune, or yours?"

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

"I appreciate the offer, m'Lady, but I've already had my meal of the morning. The smell is alluring though and that is enough to keep me alive for the moment.

I would say it is your misfortune for the most part, m'Lady, that you're left with a rotten old man, such as myself. I, on the other hand, am obviously benefiting from being allowed even the briefest time in the presence of such a beauty."

It sounded very authentic and even without a tone of sarcasm or humor, almost poetic, but that might've been the accent. Even if the comment was a little more evasive from the matters at hand than Zedrich entirely intended for it to sound.

Maybe decades ago, I could've pulled it off with a bit more... pnash, you might say.

He was more than self concious of his ill demeanor and rotting corpse of a body. His practices and career in the Mages had eventually come to this, a mouth of decayed teeth, eyes that burned yellow with some plague of the soul, and skin and organs that bled black and weakened under some foul sensation beneath the skin.

What had the old Master said? Your power and abilities will eventually turn upon you to draw their payment and costs from your very soul and for it, your body will pay in kind as well. I thought the man had just been through Hell. As an apprentice at the time, who was I to know that I would later become the corpse with a walking stick?

But this was something Zedrich had more than grown accustomed to keeping a very internal and unnoticable quarrel within himself. Thus he still gave his aged smile and remained respectfully complimenting.

"But in all truth, consider it a matter of oppurtunity for the both of us. The Inquisitor requested my presence at the audience as we have mutual goals but you are somewhat a surprise in yourself and I'm not privy to the exact objectives of our friend, the Inquisitor."

Rommelich knew fully well there existed nothing near friendship between the two. They made quite an interesting pair to say the least.

[Hera]

Opportunity?

Hera didn't doubt that, but more to the benefit of the Inquisitoriate than herself, she was certain. Rarely, if ever, did the Empire do anything that did not directly result in a more favorable position for themselves. This trip would be no different.

She had let the compliments the old man had given her pass without comment, more to the point was that there was more pancakes for her. Besides, flattery was just another form of manipulation for most beings and despite his deplorable physical condition, it was clear this mage had not lost his ability to charm. Too bad he was such a wreck, Hera could do with a little diversion.

The Sith doubted, though, that Zedrich was as in the dark as he claimed. He was wise to play things close to the vest. It would be no less than she would do.

"You have mutual goals.." she echoed thoughtfully. What would a mage and a Grand Inquisitor both be seeking. It definitely made a woman think.

"Well, perhaps I can be of help" she smiled warmly. "It may be that we can both be a help to each other"

She let the suggestion roost with Rommelisch for the moment and she washed down the last of her breakfast with some coffee.

Hera then stood and lifted a long jacket that had been tossed carelessly over a chair the night before.

"Lets go see what this is all about, shall we?" she lead the way to the door. "And on the way, you can tell me where you're from. And maybe what happened to you that made you look so awful"

[Y'roth Helghast]

The turbolift doors opened and Helghast and Fortinbras III in tow stepped out into the antechamber of the Grand Inquisitor. Neither said anything, Helghast because nothing had to be said, and Fortinbras out of fear, or respect, or both, or maybe a wisdom that had been imparted to the youth from his decrepit corpse of a master. Nothing had to be said because the Grand Inquisitor was as much an omnipresent being within the Cathedral as IMP was, the operating AI of the Cathedral. Helghast had asked for a private audience with the Grand Inquisitor and then a more public one following that which involved the presence of Magister, his apprentice, and even the prisoner witch, Hera. Although, there were other things in store where she was concerned.

The Inquisitor's new formal guard stood at the doors to his Grand Chamber, a room that took up the better part of the floor and two floors above it. They wore powersuits that were of a lesser degree of the model that Project Nightmare employed, and their armor was a crimson red, a traditional note of such an elite status. Helghast had helped train men and women that now made up the better part of the unit, as they had been candidates for the Nightmares. There was a large gap still in skill level between candidacy and actually becoming a Nightmare.

IMP informed Helghast that the Magister and Hera were finally moving, not that it mattered now, but in case his initial hearing with Inquisitor Valten went quicker than expected, Y'roth would not make the Grand Inquisitor wait for the both of them.

[Karl Valten]

Grand Inquisitor Valten faced two full sized holograms hovering above an archaically stylized projector; the holonet frequency for the transmitter so heavily encoded that only the three could decipher.

The uniforms on the two holograms bore no rank plaques, no name tags, and no campaign badges. Only the Inquisitorial crest of their left breast and a distinct red-lined cloak over each one’s shoulders.

One, a woman with fiery eyes, spoke first. “Everything is set; I’ve gone over the new units. Quite impressive, Valten, we’ll be to mobilize within two weeks.”

The other, a taller man, almost regal looking, went next. “Construction is complete as well and the crews are being integrated. It may take some time to fully test the systems, but we will be prepared as well.”

Valten nodded and motion over his shoulder. Ze’eva Kiel, captain of the new Crimson Guard , stood behind the Inquisitor with her helmet tucked beneath an arm. Mid length raven colored hair tucked beneath the heavy pauldrons of the powersuit.

“Excellent, Captain Kiel will be leaving with a squad for Prakith shortly, they will be your inside source.” Valten clasped his hands in front of him, looking at his lieutenants.

“In the mean time, Inquisitor Lymia, I want you to personally drill your soldiers, make sure they are ready to do what is necessary.” The woman bowed her head and vanished from the air.

“Inquisitor Zeera, stay within the Maw until the time comes, no one else is to find out about this.” The man snapped a military salute, waiting for Valten to return it before cutting the line.

Karl leaned on the console with both hands. Everything was finally falling into place. So little time left that it seemed like an eternity. Ze’eva shuffled behind him, taking the helmet between her fingers.

“Inquisitor Helghast is here, shall I admit him?” Valten stood up and turned towards the Captain just as her face disappeared behind the crimson mask. Y’roth had requested a private hearing with not only him, but the magister of the Imperial Mages and the prisoner, Hera, alike. This would be important; Y’roth never did anything without the Empire’s interests at heart.

“Yes.”

Booted clacked on the heavy obsidian floors as the Crimson Guard turned to leave the chamber. But, for the briefest moment, she paused, looking back at the Grand Inquisitor.

“Are you going to tell him?”


Valten smiled slowly.

“Of course.”

[Y'roth Helghast]

The two large doors shuddered, the initial locks releasing, and then slid out of the way. There stood four of the Crimson guard, one without a helmet which Helghast immediately recognized without the profile that was drawn up by his implant. Ze'eva Kiel had been a Nightmare candidate, and had almost made it too, a commendable choice in Helghast's opinion, as she was marked as the captain of the Crimson Guard.

"You may enter now, Inquisitor Helghast."

"You and your men will wait outside, Captain."

As would the Mage, who Helghast left behind as he entered the room while the four Crimson Guard filed out. The doors shut behind him as Helghast entered the vast chamber of the Grand Inquisitor. Grand Inquisitor Valten stood behind a console, leaning forward; Helghast made eye contact with his commander as he approached.

"Hail, Grand Inquisitor, Veritas Vincit. Your Crimson Guard stand a firm testimony of the Inquisitoriate's success and the Empire's security."

Helghast stopped three meters from Valten and saluted with his fist to his chest.

"The Truth of the Empire is prevailing over the corruption, Grand Inquisitor. I have here proof that I have found a deep rooted infection, and there is yet still time to act. This datapad, given to me by Moff Tarkin, holds all information concerning Executor Sevon's plans to assume control of the Throne, while eliminating key players of the Empire to solidify his authority. It lists all assets he considered available, as well as all possible threats he intended to eliminate. Chancellor Anar and yourself were listed targets, Grand Inquisitor, which links the suspicion and the attacks that occured against you and the collaboration of the terrorist Lilaena De'Ville.

Executor Sevon intended to convert Moff Tarkin to his side, who agreed thinking Sevon had only the best intentions of the Empire but upon learning the truth, immediately reported her situation to me. She seeks to maintain the integrity of the Empire in favor of the Inquisitoriate and allies herself under our cause.

I have already dispatched reinforcements and undercover agents to the assets listed in favor of collaboration with the Executor to observe and report if any active corruption is in progress, while sending others to protect those against. My first request in this hearing is for clearance to seek and destroy this corruption within our midst. I will test their loyalties and prove who intended to benefit from the sacrifice of innocent Imperial blood in order that a lesser man assume the throne of the Empire."

Helghast stepped forward and held out the black and red datapad, information readily available on the screen, for Valten's liberty to review.

[Hera]

Outside the chamber, Rommelisch and Hera stepped from the turbolift to join the knot of individuals waiting on the Grand Inquisitor's pleasure.

Hera noted a second Mage, conspicious among the Crimson cloaks. He was younger than his ancient counterpart, who stood dependant on his walking stick beside her.

"A friend of yours?" she queried Zedrich in a quiet voice.

[Karl Valten]

It had been weeks since Valten’s last meeting with Helghast, a meeting at which both Inquisitors’ suspicions solidified. But even by the doctrine of corruption, he couldn’t have pursued the Executor. Not without the silver bullet. The silver bullet that Karl had thought would be delivered by the adept-terrorist De’ville. And now that cursed woman wouldn’t be needed.

Valten took the datapad, pouring over the list. Sevon’s targets; Chancellor Anar, Tear, Moff Lorbar, Admiral Benson, all at the top of the list; others, dozens both enemies and allies of the Executor, a veritable font of knowledge, months worth of data. All thanks to Moff Tarkin. So there were citizens still loyal to the Empire out there, people outside the Inquisitoriate willing to fight against corruption and deceit.

Tarkin...once again the name stood up to temptations, the woman would have done her Grandfather proud. Karl would have to personally commend her for the effort once the ball started rolling.

Valten set the datapad down for a more complete analysis later. Corruption had run too deep this time, this heresy would not be tolerated. The Inquisitoriate will rise up and crush it, nothing would escape the fires. Beginning with the cleansing Sevon’s gross betrayal, the purge will continue until chaos was beaten from the galaxy.

Valten’s eyes rose to meet Helghast’s. “Burn them, Inquisitor. We’ve been too idle; burn the tainted.”

[Y'roth Helghast]

"They shall burn by your command, Grand Inquisitor."

Y'roth saluted, elated by his commander's morale and motivation to eliminate the corruption Helghast had rooted out. But he returned to his former position as he spoke again.

"As to the Throne of the Empire, Grand Inquisitor. I have a recommendation to submit. In the light of recent events and from my own interests in the best of the Empire I would like to nominate Moff Miranda Tarkin to assume the throne and the title Empress.

I have seen the conviction of the Empire in her heart and her people look to her for hope and future and know there is security in her name. The name Tarkin holds power within the legacy of the Empire and Moff Tarkin is no exception. She holds to our doctrines and trusts our judgement and would not delay the search for corruption or deny the foundation of truth we stand upon.

I would gladly serve her as Empress as I serve the Empire, Grand Inquisitor. And you more than any man in this Holy Empire know I weigh my words like bullets. It has been more than a year since the death of Emperor Palpatine, sacred be the name of our founder and savior, and I think that Moff Tarkin as Empress is the one to bring the threads of despair and stagnation together and maintain the progess of our might society."

Helghast saluted again, in honor of the former Emperor and waited for the Grand Inquisitor's reply. Valten was most likely the only person alive in the Empire that was aware of Helghast's origins, from the Children of the Emperor Project. Helghast had been submerged in the heart of the Empire for so long he was practically an extension of it, not even something in a sense of a human, if he had ever been.

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

Zedrich smiled warmly and turned his stooped figure to Hera and reached out with his free hand, which was carefully wrapped and really looked more like a mitten in leathers and silks patted her hand.

"Now, now dear. Don't let young Ivan scare you just yet. He's only my Journeyman Mage attendant. He makes sure I don't fall over and can't get back up, tastes my food for poison, and many other important things of the like. I like him even more that he keeps his mouth shut and just listens like any good adolescent should. The major disadvantage to having him around is he makes me look older than I actually am and it really just cramps my style, you see?"

The old man didn't skip a beat throughout the entire thing amazingly enough and even his cracked smile turned into a frump as he glared across the room at Ivan Fortinbras III with mocked hatred.

Ivan Fortinbras III was obviously not an adolescent, in his mid 20s, the young man stood straight and tall, in blood red robes with his hood drawn up, only a few strands of platinum hair escaping where they were visible. He had a remarkable handsome face, a skin tone that appeared to be a tan that most would die for and then his eyes. His eyes had that golden gleam like Zedrich's but there wasn't any sign of decay in Fortinbras.

The young Journeyman stepped forward and gave a bow from the waist, his arms were tucked in the corresponding sleeves, to Hera and then stepped back.

"Good Morning, Hera."

His voice wasn't just rich by itself; it was like Zedrich had taught him to layer it in silk to comfort the ears.

[Karl Valten]

“…Nominate?” Valten was rarely ever shocked, surprised yes, but with over a decade of service with the Inquisitoriate Karl had seen and done things that would have driven most people to insanity. But this, this was something completely unexpected, especially from Y’roth, and it showed on the Grand Inquisitor’s face

One did not simply nominate another for the throne, perhaps for other positions, but never the throne. Moffs may covet the position, Admirals may toy with the thought, but no one ever acted on it.

For anyone outside the Inquisitoriate to even think about notion was heresy, and for an Inquisitor to hold aspirations for Emperor or Empress was strictly forbidden by doctrine. If Karl hadn’t have known Y’roth better, he’d have thought the Inquisitor was making a sick jest. But Helghast, Helghast would never joke with such a revered topic.

The Grand Inquisitor straightened, pacing away from Y’roth. “That’s a bold suggestion….even for you.” Karl paused at the wall, gazing up at the figure carved into the solid stone of the cathedral, an immortal effigy of Emperor Palpatine.

The Emperor was nearly a god to the Inquisitoriate; they had served him in near fanatic loyalty. His death had shocked the galaxy and briefly shaken the foundations of Imperial Center itself. And despite adherence to doctrine in the dark times, the Inquisitoriate had begun to split with individuality, and the iron threads of the Imperium had frayed at the ends.

True, if the Empire was to survive, a central figure would be needed, someone who could rally the galaxy behind a single banner once more. Executor Sevon had been the prime candidate, but he had fallen to corruption. But Miranda Tarkin, the granddaughter of the man who had invented the Doctrine of Fear; everything Y’roth said was true. There would be objections, outrage; Moffs and officers hoping to take the throne would fight tooth and nail, and others would rebel at the thought of a female leader. Even within the Inquisitoriate there would be deviants.

“How do you propose going about this nomination.”

[Hera]

"Good morning" she stated, evaluating this second mage with a level look. His appearance was defintely an enormous step up from the old man's - so good looking, and a voice that seemed to fold itself about her like a satin robe. But, now we had two mages...? This was a deviation for the Imperials, and the Inquisitoriate in particular, who she'd always thought prided themselves on their technological and intellectual superiority and dismissed the practitioners of the mystic arts as less than worthwhile.

Was Valten having some sort of crisis? Was he recognizing that Tear's force sensitivity was a valid and coveted ability? Was the Inquisitoriate turning spiritual on her?

"So..." she turned back to Rommelisch, who was a disappointing visage after the handsome Fortunbras, "...you have a disciple. Are you here to make more such followers? Do you think Valten's dogs can learn new tricks?"

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

Zedrich shot a twistedly malicious look at Fortinbras before he turned to Hera with a look of quite the opposite. His charming smile persisted as he bothered to explain.

"Oh no, no, no. I'm afraid you know some things and then you obviously don't know some things, M'Lady. We, the Imperial Mages, have been around for quite some time actually and we don't need any from the ranks of the Inquisitoriate nor do they necessarily need us in such a fashion. The Inquisitoriate in its beginning days was known for having quite a number of adepts in its higher ranks. In fact, they were very active and avid participants of the Jedi Purge and the persecution of thousands of other adepts that refused to register under the Imperial Force Doctrine stating that all adepts must be registered and use their abilities to further the goals of the Empire or be charged for treason and seditious will against the security of the Empire and its people.... As for Valten's dogs..."

Rommelisch's golden eyes wandered to the wide double doors and the blood red guards in powersuits beside them and back to Hera.

"They can learn new tricks if Valten wants them to, but that is entirely up to the Inquisitoriate. It has continued to do a very good job so far interpreting the proper paradigm that the former Emperor was known to have. The Mages work closely with them to prove our innocence of corruption and constantly maintain that truth for the Inquisitoriate's comfort."

[Y'roth Helghast]

"Yes, Grand Inquisitor, a bold suggestion, even for myself. But without the Emperor, and given recent events that have transpired, we are no longer making the first move. We are to be a consequence to the treason of the Executor and we must secure the throne, solidifying our purpose further for the sake of the citizens. Miranda Tarkin is a beacon of hope for their morale and security and will motivate all citizens to further themselves and the Empire to a greater and more beneficial end."

Helghast was not considered human by most but he was trained in reading people to a very severe and acute degree. Miranda Tarkin was efficient in her proffesional arena and had the potential, with the support of the Inquisitoriate to be just that, an Empress.

"In order to secure a strong nomination for her, we must play upon the tastes of every citizen of the Empire, centralize power and influence under Moff Tarkin. You as the Grand Inquisitor, may appeal to the other leaders within the many branches of the Empire that are of similar rank, Chancellor Anar, Desaria, and others. But first we must unite the Inquisitoriate entirely and bound them to your word as Grand Inquisitor, for we trust in your wisdom, power, and ability that the ultimate truth is upheld as the foundation of security for the Empire. There should not be any form of dissent within the ranks of the Inquisitoriate.

I believe, undivided, that the Inquisitoriate could make the impression needed to overcome other obstacles of doubt that others might have in their perception of Miranda Tarkin. I believe that the Inquisitoriate can help even the blind see the light, Grand Inquisitor."

[Hera]

Hera began to laugh lowly and leaned closer to the ancient Mage, "Innocent of Corruption..?" She gave him a look that expressed what she made of that remark.

The darksider had never held much store for self-proclaimed purists. They - if anyone - were the worst hippocrites one might find. Besides, innocence was an ideal for the most part. There were no innocents. Or, if there were, they didn't ever stay that way. And for as long as Rommelisch had obviously been around, Hera doubted very much he could hold to such a claim. She cast a second look at Fortunbras and there was no way that guy was driven snow.

"You honestly think the Imperials believe that?"

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

"The Imperials believe what they want to believe, my dear. All Mages will gladly proclaim their flawless service in the Empire. No Inquisitor or lesser derivative of one has ever found a root of corruption with the ranks of the Imperial Mages. While they might suspect, we provide our services without complaint and abide by their laws and it works. The wrath of the Empire has not been wrought upon our heads like it has upon so many foolish adepts who could not merely adapt to their environment.

The former Emperor and Lord Vader had been Sith out of legend and their status demanded adherence or face extinction. They nearly succeeded if not for their gambit made on the young Skywalker.

Our order enjoys the solitude granted us by the Empire. It is more of a freedom than most adepts I know under the reign of the Inquisitoriate to have."

That last statement was meant in no way whatsoever to be directed at Here, of course it wasn't. The Imperial Mages hungered for knowledge, not anarchic freedom. If coexisting within the Inquisitoriate to serve their Empire was what was necessary in this day and age to acquire more knowledge, then so be it. While Zedrich could taste the power, the vintage of Hera's abilities, she would not be able to understand the relentless efficiency of the Inquisitoriate Machine until it beat even the stars down, destroying planets, and driving to the point of extinction any amount of people that stood against their collective obsession for security.

Several Inquisitors previously had made their investigations, attempted to support their conspiracies, all insinuating that the Imperial Mages were only biding their time until they could plant seeds of corruption. But those Inquisitors were gone or had lost interest. The Mages were rarely seen off their home planet or beyond excavation sites that the Empire had located of older civilizations, and all they usually occupied the majority of their time with was research.

[Hera]

Hera bristled during Zedrich's response - 'adapting to ones environment' as a description to being hunted down and killed outright, was blaise' - even for a wizard. Adapting to her environment was what she was striving to do now, here, living amongst the Imperials as their prisoner - and that was about as emasculating (for lack of a better euphemism) as was possible.

And to top it off, Rommelisch cites Skywalker --<i>Skywalker!</i>-- as the downfall to the grand scheme. That snivelling little Jedi ponce.. He would have failed miserably if not for his twin sister whose existance confused Lord Vader into sentimental insanity and his eventual rebellion against the darkside.

Hera's face hardened as she turned with Rommelisch to look at the large double doors which enclosed the leaders of the Inquisitoriate within.

"Freedom, Rommelisch, comes to the patient ones"

[Karl Valten]

Unite the Inquisitoriate indeed. The department had been fracture since the Emperor’s death with Inquisitors taking matters in their own hands. True, each Inquisitor had for two decades their own interpretations of doctrine, but each had been unified in mind and purpose under the Emperor.

But this was an interesting change for Helghast; optimism was something Valten had not seen in a long while. The blind would never see, made aware, yes…but never see. The man really must see something in the Governor.

Would it be possible that she could deal with the position? Could The Face of the Empire make the transition to Ruler of the Galaxy? Valten has seen her work and was truly impressed with the woman. The way people flocked to her and praised her was reminiscent of Palpatine. A Tarkin on the throne….it would be fitting

Karl found actually found himself liking the notion. Still, there was much work to be done. If Miranda Tarkin were to be Empress, she would need the support of an undivided Inquisitoriate.

“I am personally seeing to that already, Inquisitor.” For the last several weeks Valten had been preparing for this. He’d found the ones responsible, in his mind, for the stagnation and failure of the Inquisitoriate. And he was ready to make them pay.

“I’ve found out who the Moirae are.” The Moirae, the three High Inquisitors of the Empire. Everyone in the Inquisitoriate knew they existed, but until two months ago, no one knew who they were.

“What do you know about the Maw?”

[Y'roth Helghast]

//MAW INSTALLATION... SEARCHING...//

IMPERIAL RESEARCH CENTER...
FOUNDED BY GRAND MOFF WILHUFF TARKIN...

Schematics flipped before Y'roth's vision as he relayed a simple summary to the Grand Inquisitor. The installation was classified beyond the reach of most Imperial official's ambitions but that meant little to the extent of IMP's access. Most notably, the initial plans for the Death Star had been developed there as with other super weapons. The Maw's seclusion, still secret existence, and capabilities all made it ideal to the possibilities that the Grand Inquisitor was about to elaborate upon.

That the Grand Inquisitor had found the Moirae only confirmed in Helghast that he was serving a true Imperial, that Valten's plans had already been coinciding with Helghast's in making the Empire stronger than it had ever been before.

[Karl Valten]

“Indeed. I was not idle during my……absence.” Just under a year prior, Valten had essentially disappeared from the Imperium for several months. Not even the Inquisitoriate could locate him and the duties of maintaining order had fallen to Y’roth and Valten’s other lieutenants.

“Unity can only bring benefit the Inquisitoriate to a degree.” The Inquisitoriate was notoriously dependent on the Imperial Army and Navy for support in its actions. By itself, the Inquisitoriate simple did not have the manpower or material resources needed to perform all of its duties; the army provided troops and tanks and navy provided ships and transportation. Every Grand Inquisitor had grudgingly gone along with the system. But the events of Endor brought the galaxy on a verge of collapse, a still ever present threat.

Valten could not tolerate this, the Inquisitoriate need the material and independence to do its duties.

“Alliances have been made, both within the Empire and out. Obstacles have been eliminated. And the Maw is the fulcrum.”

Valten swept his arm over the Cathedral and everything within: the audience chambers, the Hall of Remembrance, the databanks, the Nightmare Complex, the Passage of the Fallen, the Inquisitorial tombs, the heart of the Inquisition on Coruscant.

“The Citadel is the supposed embodiment of our beliefs, but it is a lie. The Inquisitoriate is a shadow, a flicker in the corner to the galaxy’s eyes, a wraith sole purpose dive into the darkness in order to hold it back. We are the hidden warriors of order, integrity, and truth. Never seen, never heard, never praised for our sacrifice.”

Despite its most devout founding at the will of the Emperor himself, this temple had become a lie. A place that, since Endor, had come to signify idleness, schism, despair, and weakness. Not to the Empire at large perhaps, but they only saw the towering black spires of the Citadel, a constant indomitable presence. Valten could feel what they could not.

“Yet here we exist, exposed to the universe among the blind, selfish, and corrupt. I fear this has poisoned the will of our weaker minded.”

“The Maw is ours, its facilities, its resources, everything. I have a trusted ally overseeing the Installation and its conversion to our needs. The Crimson Guard was merely the first step, the Maw has already begun production of Inquisitorial vessels and training of crew and soldiers for the first Inquisitorial combat squadron ia nearly complete. We will be able to crush this resistance once and for all without discretion”

[Y'roth Helghast]

"What of the Moirae then, Grand Inquisitor? How can I assist you in consolidating our faith where the Moirae concerned, Grand Inquisitor?"

Valten was already aware that Helghast intended to leave again, taking some assets, to include Hera, and the recently captured Xanatos with him, as well as Magister Rommelisch and his assistant. The small fleet accompanying Helghast accomodated the Nightmares, a platoon of Inquisitoriate soldiers, an analysis team of Inquisitoriate agents, and a small retinue of Imperial Mages. Hunting down the former Royal Guard of the late Emperor appeared more tedious than anything else, and Helghast only had a few other minor events to accomplish along the way. Handling one of the Moirae, as the Grand Inquisitor saw fit, wouldn't be a problem at all for the Nightmares.

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

Everything comes to the patient ones, Drenkast.

The voice that slid through Hera's mind like an aged wine sounded much younger than Zedrich's dried lips could ever produce now. But it was still most definitely his. If anything, it still sounded amused though.

"All in good time, young mistress. For the time being, however, the Mages of the Imperium are at your service. Beyond Inquisitor Helghast's hospitality, we hope we can make your... presence here a bit more comfortable."

A hand, wrapped in silk to the extent that it was almost like a wrapped mitten reached out and rested on Hera's shoulder gently.

Zedrich knew Hera to one degree or another. Had he only been younger, the fun they would've had. Rommelisch might've been more eager to help her... reconnect with the Force had he been younger as well, more capable of participating had something come of it. However, in his decrepit state, for all the power he had... Her life still had it's hills, its climaxes. The Dark Side was collecting on Zedrich now. He had been given his chances at glory, his glimpses in the spot light.

It wasn't to say that he wasn't grateful. It tasted more like jealousy in the back of his throat, envy, not just for Hera, that the very strings of reality weren't decaying with Rommelisch. The wretched thing ate at the core of his very being, it did. And to prove it, he was forced to turn his head away, coughing into the side of his hood.

[Hera]

Hera didn't flinch away from Rommelisch as he hacked over his shoulder, but stood, watching him with dispassionate eyes. To the side, Fortunbras remained as a statue - observing and attentive, yet declining to intrude.

The aged mage was in a rough way, but despite his decaying outer temple, the inside still harboured a flame that excited Hera with possibility.

"You are generous to make me such offers, old man. And you can be sure I welcome such new friends." Her voice sounded abrassive compared to the mages' but it did sound genuine. She flicked a glance to Fortunbras and back. "Very glad to have some friends, in fact"

She lifted the silk-wrapped hand from her shoulder and held it between her own hands. "Would you teach me some of your arts..?" she asked with a sly smile.

[Karl Valten]

“Ah yes, the three. Their support in this matter of unity, in all matters actually, is key. Without them, the Inquisitoriate will remain split no matter who is Grand Inquisitor.”

Valten regarded the man in front of him for a moment. Y’roth and been raised and trained for the outmost devotion to the Empire and the Emperor, treason and corruption were indoctrinated to be the ultimate atrocity that could be committed.

What Valten was planning fell under morally grey territory in the eyes of the Inquisition and most definitively could be considered treason. But a necessary one in the Grand Inquisitor’s mind, there could be no opposition to his ascension and duty to unify the Inquisitoriate.

“Ligelia……Mordeci…...Settra.” Valten would never have considered them, Tear had made interesting choices.

“They are all faithful to the Empire, none of them are traitors. Settra and Ligelia can be won, but I know Mordeci well. He will not yield, certainly not in the support of Tarkin for the throne.”

Here was the dilemma going through Valten’s mind. Never had loyal brothers in the Inquisitoriate taken arms against each other. Certainly resentment existed, but only those violating the sacred Book of Indoctrinations were ever punished. He had worked with Mordeci before, reputable, powerful, independent, and one of the best the Inquisitoriate had to offer. The man would not back behind Valten. His unwillingness wouldn’t be treason, but it was also something that could not be tolerated.

“There cannot by dispute or dissention, even among the loyal. You understand that he must be executed? The others as well if they do not see the way, anyone who opposes. For the greater good of the Imperium.”

Valten drew back from Helghast, conscious of the sheathed sword at his side. It was not a plea nor a suggestion, but an order. Here was the test for Y’roth, how was Valten’s plans of assassination different from the Executors’? Would he obey an order to commit treason or would his indoctrination hold?

[Y'roth Helghast]

Helghast's eyes wavered, not in lack of concentration or any other weakness but in a sudden examination of the Grand Inquisitor Karl Valten.

"You walk a fine line, Grand Inquisitor."

Helghast was subservient to the Empire, Valten knew that, and the Grand Inquisitor knew that Helghast would remove any corruption without hesitation. That Valten wasn't dead, was sign enough that Helghast did not consider his words treason. The warning stated was simply that. Helghast was not meant to be an object to be wary of by his superiors unless they had something to be afraid of.

"I will go and help Mordeci see the light, Grand Inquisitor. If Mordeci will not yield to the simple cause of unifying the Empire for the better of all, then I will remove Mordeci. The betterment of the Galactic Empire is progress and the future; anything else is the stagnation and corruption the Inquisitoriate was designed to seek out and eliminate."

Helghast did not feel anymore was necessary. The Grand Inquisitor could be assured that Y'roth Helghast was loyal to the Empire alone. It was not needed for Helghast to elaborate that the difference of this matter to that of the conspiracy of the traitor Sevon was that the former Executor was only seeking to solidify power in himself and make himself, Khendon Sevon, the foundation from which the Empire was rooted. That Empire would not have lasted long with a flawed foundation. Sevon had sought out help from outside of the Empire and sought to strike at the Empire's pool of talent and cripple it in order that he might assume a tyrannical position of power. Valten would gladly give his position or his life if it meant that the greater good would be achieved immediately. Sevon could not vouch for the same. The difference lay in the principles demonstrated by both men, for they were men, of the Empire or not. And Inquisitor Helghast was only an instrument of the Empire.

[Karl Valten]

Valten let his hand drop away from his sword. It was good that Helghast understood what he was trying to accomplish. Unfortunately the Grand Inquisitor knew that there would be times in the future where he would have to draw the blade against fellow Inquisitors. A prospect that sickened him.

“I trust you will keep me from crossing that line, Inquisitor Helghast.”

Karl never thought that he would be close to breaching the Doctrine of Faith, but as things came closer and closer to a fulcrum, it seemed that things were not black and white anymore. Perhaps this was the purpose of the Grand Inquisitor, to have the courage to blur the lines just long enough to set the path right.
“Mordeci is overseer of the Fortress on Prakith, he will take the presence of another Inquisitor lightly. He is an independent to the core, much like I used to be.”

“Captain Kiel will be leaving with a small detachment under the guise of interrogation.”

Despite the Citadel being located at the heart of the Imperium. Prakith was where the most resilient prisoners and Jedi were sent for questioning. In the days of the Great Purge, citizens on that rocky world claimed to have been able to hear the screams from the fortress……located far away in the mountainous land. Even now thousands of prisoners from those early days still remained there with the population still growing. It was not uncommon for interrogators to travel from Imperial Centre to Prakith to perfect their techniques or try to pull more information out of the aging detainees.