The Devils in the Details: Past Debts, Part 2

[The Message]

The droid chirped, or what could have been a chirp. Audio servos grinded within its rusted shell causing any sound attempted to be uncomfortably high pitched and distorted. Flecks of rust peppered the duracreet walkway of the Pendi Coruscanti market. The small droid floated, zig-zagging through the crowds, oblivious to its deteriorating condition. The devices brain, a series of processors and circuitry, was otherwise preoccupied with its priority objective. So much that it failed to notice the hover craft bearing down on it. It was an audible crunch, not the ear drum breaking chirps of broken servo's, that grabbed the attention of several passerby's mustering about the market. Heads pivoted and followed in mock wonder at the tumbling ball of rust flying through the air.

A small tail of debris danced along cracked tiled flooring after the droid had made its smashing entrance through the window. A rather elegant office window in the ownership of an even more elegant woman. The droid rolled lifelessly over the floor its momentum carrying it to the feet of a rather unimpressed occupant.

Internal systems reboot...
//Core Check...
Communications...
Navigations...
//Activating backups. Online.

The droids dead sphere suddenly came to life in a dazzling display of lights and instruments only to dim and die. Again it sprang to life this time jumping several feet into the air. Through grinding gears and sizzling circuitry it held in place hovering face to face, or more accurately, sensory node to face.

"Sasseeri Reeouurra?" Its emitters bleeped, various radar cones flipping out and swiveling back and forth trying to confirm the identity of its target.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

"What the frrrrell," growled the half-Cizerack felinoid, her ice blue eyes narrowing in irritation at the interruption. Slamming her lap computer shut on a shirtless picture of Sanis Prent, Sasseeri Reeouurra glared at the malfunctioning droid.

"jI thought jI got rrrjid of you." The doors to her office slammed open and her security detail ran in, blasters pointed at the rusty intruder. A few hurried to the broken window where they peered out and around, just in case there was a speeder hanging around outside.

She waved the meatheads away. "Someone get jin touch wjith ourrr contact jin jImpjIntel. jI need to know jif Grrrand jInqujistjitorrr Tearrr jis back."

[The Message]

"Someone get jin touch wjith ourrr contact jin jImpjIntel. jI need to know jif Grrrand jInqujistjitorrr Tearrr jis back."

"Most unnecessary I assure you my dear." The disembodied voice, however badly garbled and metallic, wasn't familiar to the half-Cizerack. Before Sasseeri could question the droid its forward emitters sparked to life projecting a hologram of an Inquisitoriate officer.

"The Grand Inquisitor is still ...absent currently, much to your disappointment no doubt. However his bank account is still here and we have noticed a surprising lack of credits being transferred into it. Incidently the credits absent are supposed to be coming from you." The room shook suddenly and violently, sending anything not nailed down to a crashing pile on the floor.

"Now before you go making excuses for yourself regarding any terms between you and the Grand Inquisitor. Let me make it clear that is of no concern to us. That being said the credits in question are substantial, especially if interest is added to the equation. However, there may be a way for you to clear this debt. We would even go so far as to let you keep the money thats owed. That is if you would do us a small favor? On top of your building waits a shuttle that has just landed. I will elaborate on this favor more in person and please be punctual Miss. Reeouurra." The officer bowed his head slightly in finishing and the hologram phased out.

Before Sasseeri Reeouurra could vent her frustrations on the guards nearby the droid shot into the air suddenly. Leveling itself it came face to face with the seductively tall female.

"Inquisitoriate priority emphasizes this is not a request to dwell on. The shuttle awaits madam." The droids voice still cracked with malfunctioning high pitched squeaks and elongated words, that would make even a DJ's bass system shudder, but the point behind the message was clear.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

"Fjine," Sasseeri growled, her fingernails clawing into her desk. "jI'll be rrrjight therrre."

She grabbed her jacket and Tock, one of her set of twin Twi'lek bodyguards. He towered over her slight 5'4" frame as he shadowed her out the door and up to the roof.

[The Message]

The ramp up into the Imperial shuttle was flanked on each side by two Inquisitor soldiers. Their faces masked behind a helm of black, much like the rest of their armor, which had a single red stripe leading down their left side. Although their faces were hidden, it was obvious they were tracking the tall twi'lek body guard with a suspicious interest.

Inside the shuttle it was much of the same. Another four Inquisitorial soldiers stood ready at Sasseeri's arrival. Once inside the shuttle the other soldiers outside fell in line and quickly filed into the shuttle pinning the Vigo between a total of eight Inquisitor soldiers.

"Fine piece of tail that one is eh?" The soldiers voice came through clear to every headset all the Inquisitors were wearing inside their helmets but to Sasseeri and the twi'lek the group remained silent.

"Literally. Although, I don't think she trusts us check out tentacle head here." One of the soldiers nodded his head toward the twi'lek however silent they were the gesture was an obvious one.

"Over paid muscle." The group chuckled.

"Quit the chatter. Offer the lady a seat and lets get this boat in the air. Copy that helm?" The leader of the squad was barely distinguishable from the rest with only an added red stripe that circled the armor around his neck. Behind him, the clumsy droid that had delivered the message floated inside the shuttle. Squeaking in fear as the large ramp slammed shut just behind it with a hissing seal.

"Copy, ramp retracted. Lifting off now Colonel." The pilot responded. The shuttle hummed smoothly with the lift off before bolting in a lazy arc toward orbit.

"Should we take that goon out?"

"Negative. Let the half breed have her false sense of security. Orders are she is to be delivered to Inquisitor Mephis."

The voice of one of the soldiers cracked electronically through his helmet, "For your comfort." His hand waved toward one of the more suitable looking seats in the shuttle. The marks and scrapes inside made it very evident the ship had seem combat more then once and was not a ship of luxury. Something Sasseeri seemed keenly aware of as she sat down into the seat with a curled lip of disdain.

The trip was short. Out of the view port the sight of their destination was clear. A large cluster of Imperial Star destroyers sat isolated from the mainstay Imperial fleet that guarded Coruscant. Even so, as they approached the small task force there was a wonder of fleet traffic. It looked like some silvery gray hive of bees with shuttles hoping from ship to ship only to stream in short convoys toward the rest of the fleet or down to Coruscant itself. As the shuttle slid past the normal shipping lanes the other ships were using they past over the hulls of several of the Star Destroyers. If the Vigo had bothered to peer down she would have seen their hulls were badly scarred. Masses of charred and twisted metal dotted the hulls where turbolaser turrets normally would have towered proudly. Wherever this task force had been they had seen fierce battle.

Past the blue hue of landing bay shields the shuttle glided to a full stop with barely a lurch to hint they had landed. The ramp retracted filling the shuttle with the hustling noise of the landing area. Deck crews, maintenance teams, Cargo captains, and the odd Imperial officer covered the deck in what was probably organized chaos. At the bottom of the ramp stood an officer in black with a familiar red stripe down his left side.

"Watch your step Miss. Reeouurra. I must apologize for the state of things but time is short." The last few words of his sentence were dulled with a loud clang of metal falling heavily against metal. The parade of Inquisitor soldiers flanking Sasseeri made a zig-zagging path, through various clusters of work and debris, toward a set of large blast doors leading out. Through it all The Vigo took a benign interest in the surroundings. After all most of it looked like fairly normal operations, or what was probably normal, for an Imperial ship. But something was off, most of the officers were glancing away, their voices kept low as her group past.

"Inquisitor Dalr your orders. Make sure the Captain of the Unbreakable relieves his command before this time. If he does not, take control of the ship under this protocol. We are counting on you Dalr. Do not fail us."

"Aye sir. I won't sir."

What was obviously Inquisitor Dalr took the black envelope handed to him by his superior and followed with a sharp salute. His eyes darted briefly to Sasseeri's and he swallowed. Almost nervously she thought trying to hide her perked ears as she eaves dropped on the two officers.

Logically, the first hallway they entered looked much like the rest of the ship. Various bulkheads were under maintenance with work crews running by feverishly. She nearly tripped twice into gaping holes in the floor where the deck plating had been removed for maintenance. The trip up several decks in an elevator, however brief, was less then comfortable with Sasseeri encircled by the eight Inquisitor soldiers and squeezed close to her bodyguard.

Finally she was admitted to a large meeting room which was a stark contrast to much of the ship. It displayed more of the Empire proper that she knew with a elaborately large and polished obsidian table flanked by perfectly set rows of leather chairs. At the head of the table stood yet another Inquisitor although this one stood out against the fifteen or so she had seen on her way up. This ones uniform was full crimson and around his collar were several rings of gold.

"Sasseeri, I trust your trip was pleasant?" The Inquisitor failed to turn around as he spoke.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Sasseeri sat gingerly in the shuttle, Tock standing nearby. She touched a scar on the bulkhead, inspecting her fingertips. Carbon scoring. Once in orbit around Coruscant other clues were readily available. There was a smaller task force separated from the larger Imperial fleet, and it seemed to have seen some heavy action.

She didn't bother straining to look out the viewports at the ships, adjusting her mini skirt instead as she perched on the edge of the dirty seat. The shuttle entered a landing bay, and the Vigo's ears perked up.

Out of the shuttle, greeted by an Inquisitor, 'escorted' through the Star Destroyer... Sasseeri tottered a little in her heels as Tock steered her around a hole in the deck plating, but she tried to keep her eyes and ears open without appearing to take much of an interest in her surroundings. She didn't like this, not one bit. But then, she didn't have a choice. Did she.

In a large meeting hall she was separated from Tock, who was made to wait outside the door. Inside, she appreciated the opulence of the simple decor, but her attention was centered on the man in the crimson uniform.

"Sasseeri, I trust your trip was pleasant?"

He didn't turn around, choosing instead to continue staring at whatever it was he was looking at. Trying to make her feel small. Sasseeri squared her slim shoulders and cocked her head defiantly. Then she straightened up and put a pleasant expression on her face. "As pleasant as could be expected frrrom a grrroup of trrrooperrrs."

She bared her teeth in what might have been interpeted as a smile, had he turned around. "But jit you werrre overrrly concerrrned about my comforrrt, we could be havjing thjis converrrsatjion jin my offjice."

[Tear]

TONG!

A deep thud resounded from the corridor outside the room causing the thick obsidian table to tremble beneath Sasseeri's clawed finger tips. Inquisitor Mephis turned with a slight jump from his silent watch of the viewport. The pair glanced at each other curiously then toward the door that opened with the grind of sliding metal.

Inquisitor Mephis's eyes widened suddenly and he barely had time to leap to the ground as the ragged body of a bloodied Twi'lek flew over head to slam with a resounding crack against the durasteel viewport.

"Sasseeri." Tear entered the room casually craning his neck to the side as if to pull out a cramp in his shoulder. "It has been far too long. May I introduce you to an associate of mine? Sasseeri this is Hera, a longstanding guest of the Inquisitors. Hera this is Sasseeri Reeouurra, famed business woman of Coruscant's elaborate Nabooian Queen casino."

The Grand Inquisitor peered around the table to see Mephis picking himself up off the ground. "You may leave us Inquisitor."

[Hera]

As Tear spoke, Hera drew 'Morta' and ignited it. With a thrill of rebellion, she thrust the lightsaber deep into the Grand Inquisitor's belly and twisted upwards, ploughing a hideous rift through his center. His eyes widened, more angry at her dared insolence than pained from the wound itself - yet his fury burned impotently. Withdrawing the blade, Hera watched with pleasure as Tear dropped to his knees, his mouth moving as if to speak but unable to voice any sound, and finally pitching forward to fall with an ignoble thump to the ground..



"Reeouurra" Hera responded without enthusiasm. Tear had made his introductions and her fantasy of violence disapated into the present, unhappy circumstance - the object of her contempt standing strong and whole, and completely arrogant, beside her.

Tear had tossed the unfortunate Twi'lek body guard with as much effort as he would a ragdoll halfway across the room, giving the other officer a start. It would have been amusing had Hera not been in such a foul mood. As Mephis exited, Sasseeri, apparently the latest poodle brought to jump through the Grand Inquisitor's hoops, looked just as unhappy to be there as Hera did. Not that Hera cared. The Sith couldn't bring herself to feign even the smallest amount of interest in the Cizerack, or what Tear was currently orchestrating. She had her mind on other things. Darker things. Throughout her being she could feel the darkside stirring, strengths that had long lain dormant were waking - and had been for some time.

The days of her own hoop-jumping would only be lasting just so much longer.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Sasseeri pursed her lips, her blue eyes sharpening at the abuse of her bodyguard. Tok moved a little where he lay, but did not groan or make any other noises. Sometimes she thought that the twins were mutes. It was enough to know that he was alive, and after a moment, as the Grand Inquisitor made his introductions, the Twi'lek got to his feet and stood, bleeding from his head and sensitive lekku.

"Charrrmed, jI'm surrre," she snapped. "jI do not apprrrecjiate yourrr manhandljing of my employee, Grrrand jInqujisjitorrr." She folded her arms, one hip sticking out just slightly. "jI am rrready to make thjings rrrjight between us, but you'rrre not makjing thjis easy."

She knew what shaky ground she was standing on, outnumbered and her bodyguard injured, though how severely she could not tell. Tok wasn't doing much more than standing slightly stooped in front of the viewport. Dislocated shoulder at the least, from the way he was standing. His eyes were fixed on the two Inquisitors, or Inquisitor and guest, whatever the frell that meant.

Sasseeri eyed the female, a tall, leggy blonde who looked bored. She only looked bored though, Sasseeri could tell when someone was putting on a show. And Tear... he was different. Wilder. More unpredictable.

Dangerous.

It would take some quick talking to get out of here alive.

[Tear]

Tear's eyes shrunk to slits with a sharp scowl being cast in Sasseri's direction. "You must accept my sincere apologies." His voice tingled with the hint of anger as he made a flourishing shallow bow.

"And now that pleasantries are out of the way we will move to the pressing matter of business. You are no doubt aware of the fact you have backed out of our arrangement. I can only assume that in my absence you thought yourself no longer obligated to hold up your end of the deal." The Inquisitor took a step forward toward the Cizerack. The bloodied twi'lek probably would have moved to intercept but in his condition merely flinched with the instinct of his imaginary action. The twitch didn't go unnoticed and the Inquisitor quickly became aware of the twi'leks disapproving, beady eyed stare.

"Keep it." Tear took another smooth step forward. His challenging eyes drifted to meet those of the glowering Twi'lek. The body guard quickly took the hint and decidedly looked else where. "Keep all that is owed but in trade I would like you to do something for me. To find someone. A freshly escaped terrorist from Coruscant named Lilaena De'ville."

The Inquisitor moved a gloved hand toward Sasseeri but at the last moment veered to the right and tapped a small near invisible button on the black table. A small holo projected into air showing all vital data pertaining to the woman at large, including the large bounty.

"I don't care how its done but I want this woman found."

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She didn't flinch, didn't let her cool blue eyes look away from his crazy red ones. They hadn't been red before. Sasseeri raised her chin a little as Tear got closer.

She also saved her questions. Like, how am jI supposed to fjind a woman that hasn't been found despjite the huge bounty on herrr head, or what the frrrell djid she do to you? Pee jin yourrr corrrnflakes? No, she did not ask any questions.

Sasseeri only nodded. "jI'll fjind herrr forrr you." She didn't need to capture the woman, only find her. And even the employees of her legitimate enterprises were experts at locating people. After all, casinos often had people try to skip out on the debts owed the house.

And the house always wins. "And afterrr that, we arrre good?"

[Tear]

For the first time since his arrival at Coruscant the Inquisitor's lips twitched to something entirely foreign, a smile. Sasseeri had pleased him. The funds she had provided over the years from her operations had played a large part in securing unauthorized activities that had taken up much of the Grand Inquisitors time. Ironically his next task was to find a terrorist his Inquisitors had lost. As the force would have it, the credits suddenly stopped at the same time he began contemplating how to find the unfindable. He had nearly forgotten about little Sasseeri Reeouurra and her criminal enterprise. It was a sign. Reeouurra would play her part in Tears grand web and another piece would be put into place.

"Of course." His voice was the devil himself and his lips lied just as easily.

The Grand Inquisitor's wrist beeped. "Sir. The announcement is taking place."

"Ah, I nearly forgot." Nimble fingers drummed a second time over the near invisible panel on the table changing the holo display. The holo expanded, displaying grand banners draped over long pillars of the Imperial assembly hall. At its center stage was a collection of unique individuals, one of which Sorsha Kasajian, would stand out to Sasseeri like slicer in one of her casinos.

"Looks like the last Tarkin is finally announcing her new position as Empress and If im not mistaken..." He squinted briefly at the holo, tapping a button to zoom in near Miranda. Then with sly grin turned to Sasseeri, "...Her new hand is making an appearance as well. You two are old acquaintances are you not?"

He danced around the subject knowing full well the inclination of Sorsha having the backing the Empress. From his sources Sorsha and Sasseeri had an unfortunate history together.

Tear may have been absent from the Empire as a whole for a few years now but his control over it had not diminished. The Inquisitoriate, even under command of Valten, were still crawling with men and women who had pledged their lives to him in servitude. His spies did well to keep tabs on all the major players who came to play on the grand stage that was the Empire. In particular Miranda Tarkin and her not so well kept secret affair with Kasajian. Even the adopting of her as the Empress new hand. It was laughable, the Inquisitor thought with a mild chuckle, his arms folded across his chest in contempt, as he watched Miranda's speech and the uproar of its finale.

On the bridge of the ship he had a team of Inquisitors analyzing every portion and angle of the holo feed. Weeding through the crowd to find the dissenting voices, the shouts of objection, the opposed and angry faces of Moffs, Governors, and Senate members. Each individual was being profiled for their rank and value as possible threats to the new Empress. If value X and Z equaled or were greater then Z the individual was deemed as 'qualified'. If found qualified a group of Inquisitor soldiers under Tear's command would be waiting for them outside the assembly building. The individuals would be quickly escorted to various vessels in waiting and then transported to a small Imperial fleet sitting in Coruscant's orbit. The same battle torn fleet Sasseeri had traveled toward.

There on board the Inquisitors ship, approximately five decks below this one, another meeting would soon take place. A meeting of like minded individuals protesting the new elevation and selection of Empress Miranda Tarkin. A new council, a secret one, would come into existence.

It would all happen as he had foreseen

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

The holo covered the entire table top, revealing the interior of the Imperial senate (or what had been the Imperial senate, before Palpatine had disbanded it). She frowned slightly at the Grand Inquisitor's words, and then the holo sharpened and enlarged again.

Sasseeri's hand tighted on the back of the chair she was standing by, tightened to the point that she snapped a fingernail on the smooth metal. Sorrrsha! That Black Nebula whore. And with a position at the right hand of the new empress. Miranda Tarrrkjin. Sasseeri's eyes narrowed into blue glints.

"...And I will respectfully accept this great honor bestowed upon me before all of our people in one standard hours time."

She ground her teeth. Suddenly Sorsha's successes as a Vigo of Black Sun, and now as head of rival Black Nebula, made sense. She was being backed by the very powerful Tarkin family all along. Riveted by the holo, she slowly realized that the Grand Insquisitor had asked her a question.

"jI know Kasajian, yes," she bit out, masking her sudden and complete fury with stonefaced resolve and firey eyes.

[Hera]

The holovid announcement had succeeded in drawing Hera's interest back into the current conversation, if only briefly. The Sith tended to only ever give her full attention to matters that directly effected her, and, while the revelation of a new Empress of the galaxy was monumental in and of itself, its direct correllation to Hera and her mitigating circumstances was minimal, if not non-existant. Apart from the fact that the Imperials had shown surprisingly good judgement in placing a female in charge of things - as far as she could see, this altered her predicament not at all.

Tarkin's speech - peppered with just the right amount of Empire cheerleading and Jedi fear-mongering was a sublime effort of content and execution. It raised quite a stir amongst those present, creating a metaphorical gasp which sent many of the opposers into a flurry of consternation and outcry. The Inquisitors stood in a row, stony-faced and implaccable. A wall of impenetrability between Miranda Tarkin and the portion of dissenting Moffs below her. And there was Valten, conspicious in his place of distinction on the dais. Well, isn't that a career maker, Hera mused. Wonder what golden boy here thinks about that? She eyed Tear askance. Does he care that the handsome Valten stands pride of place beside the Empress? Or perhaps he sent Karl there and is overjoyed at the new development. For all Hera knew, Tear had probably helped plan the big surprise. It was hard to tell, to read anything from a look. Tear's eyes were so weird.

Sasseeri, however, did not look too pleased at all - and this came as no surprise to the Grand Inquisitor. He had played his hand perfectly and could not hide the satisfaction from his smile. The cunning dog.

Hera contented herself with the mild amusement of Reeouurra's anger and waited for the explosion she felt sure would come. In the interim, she studied the faces on the dais - Valten's, Kasajian's, Anar's and most closely, the new Empress Tarkin's. Hera wondered what thoughts were going through their minds and if this new regime would prove better or worse than the last.

[Tear]

"Oh good." Tears eyes flicked briefly to the source of the short cracking sound, taking note of Sasseeri's snapped finger nail. Despite her unflinching resolve to keep her emotions veiled.

It was enticing, maybe even intoxicating, her anger, the pure malice, he could sense it all through the force. The hatred radiated from her in rippling waves that broke against him, clinging to his body like fingers of smoke, he reveled in it, savoring the taste. Not that anyone else would notice, to them, the inquisitor would still be standing tall, a small tug pulling at the corner of his lip in a sly grin while his arms remained crossed.

"Then you will understand why you will remain on board this ship until your job is done. This station..." For a third time he dialed into the black pad on the table causing the majority of it to light up in, illuminating a veritable quantity of keys in a soft blue hue. "is fully setup for communications and the database is at your mercy. More or less. Should you have any additional requests Inquisitor Mephis will be at your mercy."

No doubt the cizerack believed she could keep herself protected within her fortified and towering casinos. With her security force, hired mercenary's, and various other thugs at her disposal. Tear didn't doubt her capability in protecting herself but he couldn't take the chance of losing her before Lilaena was found. For now she was a prized asset and would be treated as such.

"There will be a dinner later as well. You are invited and I hope you will grace us with your presence as it is always most stunning."

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Her tail twitched, and Sasseeri tore her eyes away from the table where the holo of Kasajian had disappeared. Stay herrre?! Neverrr! But she did not question the Inquisitor with the crazy eyes, knowing that to do so would most likely be professional and personal suicide. He had the power, if not to shut down Black Sun completely, then to make life extremely difficult.

No wonder Xizor's life had been so short.

"Do not touch my bodyguarrrd agajin," she said. "Good help jis harrrd to fjind." She couldn't stay here. Although... perhaps there was a way to use this to her advantage.

There usually was.

She smiled, exposing her flat, omniverous teeth. "jI am always hungrrry..." This bitch Lilaena whoever she was wouldn't hide for long and then Sasseeri would be free of this tin can. Somehow she knew that she wouldn't be totally free for a long, long time.

[Hera]

At the mention of food, Hera suddenly brightened. She remembered another time she'd joined the Imperials for a meal and fondly recalled how she'd taken the opportunity to try stab Helghast in the chest with a table knife. The attempt had been thwarted, of course, these are Imperials after all and not entirely incompetent. Her amusment remained, however. And the hope that there may yet be further opportunities..

"Im hungry, too" she announced, if anyone cared.

A nerve near Tear's eye twitched slightly, as if until she'd spoken he had quite forgotten Hera was even there. Perhaps he'd been enjoying himself too much at the Cizerack's expense.

"In fact" she continued, "I cant remember when I last ate. I hear having children can do that to people" she sniped sarcastically.

"Are we done with the bullying for the moment, Grand Inquisitor?"

[Tear]

Women, Tear thought sourly.

"Not a finger." It was a poor choice of words on Sasseeri's part. Starting with little more then a passing glance toward the twi'lek bodyguard, but a look was all it took. To the Twi'lek's credit he only let slide a mild hiss of discomfort as his lekku curled agonizingly and his hands clawed with desperation at his neck. It was a hideous thing to feel yourself begin to suffocate.

Tear turned, giving his back to Sasseeri as he made his way out of the room. His stride took him quickly past Hera snubbing her comments completely, well almost, a curt "Follow." was spat in her direction, the taste of annoyance still lingering in his voice. Outside the room the eight soldiers were still standing guard and would continue to do so as Sasseeri's very own escort while she remained on board. They would keep her safe from herself for the most part. Allowing her to wander the ships free decks while keeping her away from those that were restricted.

"Grand Inquisitor." The colonel stepped forward from the group. Unclasping his helmet, it was quickly pulled off and tucked beneath his left arm. "Arrangements you requested earlier have been readied."

"Good. Colonel, inside there's a twi'lek who will likely appreciate a bacta bath. See to it." Tear canted his head toward the door where several loud, and much needed, gasps of air escaped from inside the room. Although the bodyguard was left living Tear hoped the next time Sasseeri would contemplate any consequences before making a demand of him again.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Sasseeri let her eyes watch the pair of Imperials leave, and she turned to glare at Tok, who was on his knees, gasping for air, his white flesh ashen. "Useless!" she sniped, striding to a viewport, but not near the wounded bodyguard.

After a moment the doors opened again and Tok was escorted out. She didn't know if they were taking him out to be shot or to be healed. At this point, he wasn't much use to her anyway. But it irritated her that the Grand Inquisitor would take such liberties with her employee, and still expect her to assist him.

She could not refuse, not while she was a prisoner (in all but name, yes) on Tear's starship. After Tok was dragged out, his legs weak, she stalked to the table, activating the comm system and calling up Olorin.

[Kal Olorin]

"What do you mean, 'she's not here?'" I strode into Sassy's office, taking note of smashed and broken window. Droids were already beginning the repair, removing all of the remaining broken pieces of glass in preparation for the installation.

"She left about an hour and a half ago," spluttered the secretary, Sa'lee or something. Who knew, these days, Sassy had three or four of them and they were all short, skinny, brunette humans. Cute, too. This one had freckles.

"Left?" I tried not to raise my voice. "I had to cover for her in front of Jaarhu's delegation!" So much for not raising my voice. "And what the frell happened to this window?!"

"Uh," She paged through a datapad that she was clutching like it was a lifeline, "A droid came through it. And a... a shuttle was on the roof of the casino. She went on it, didn't tell us anything." The girl trembled and dropped the 'pad, and I realized I was glaring at her.

With effort I smoothed my face. "A shuttle."

"Uh... yes?" She knelt down, picking up the datapad and fishing for the stylus that had rolled away on the floor.

My commlink vibrated, and I took it out, trying to smile at the girl, but she just flinched. Frelling Jaarhu and his drokking delegation. "Yeah?"

"Shut up and ljisten. jI need you to look up everrrythjing you can fjind on a terrrrrrorrrjist named... Ljilaena De'Vjille."

I blinked. "Okay." I moved to her holonet terminal, sitting at the big wood desk and tapping in my password.

"Use my passworrrd," she said, as though she was watching me somehow. "Trrrrangorrr118g." She spelled it. Keys to the kingdom. Whatever was happening, it was big.

My brain was having trouble switching gears. A simple search of the name brought up some news articles. Domestic terrorism, some dating back as far as ten years. One as recent as last year. Nothing in months. Nothing very big, and no real information. I said as much to Sasseeri.

"Do an jindepth searrrch, all the usual channels." She paused. "We need to fjind herrr currrrrrent locatjion, orrr..."

I paused, waiting for her to finish her thought, but she didn't. Fine. Suit yourself, Sassy. "Okay."

"jI'll be jin touch agajin." The connection broke, leaving me staring at the commlink in my hand.

Sa'lee dropped her datapad again, her face red.

[Tear]

They walked in silence over the polished black floor. The rapid beat of their foot steps echoing lightly off the walls and down the halls. Tears pace was quick, his eyes focused ahead in contemplation, barely registering the incessant salutes and bowed heads that respected his rank. No, it wasn't their obedience that occupied his mind this moment. It was the prize he had stowed away for so long. The woman walking at his side. She held the next key that would open the future he had foreseen.

Surprisingly, through the short turbolift and several twisting corridors later, Hera had managed to hold her tongue withstanding to ask where exactly she was being led. That was until she found herself in the center of a large room. Its floor covered in what must have been a padded leather of some sort, the color of which was a rich, nearly black, chestnut. The roof was extravagantly high while the walls, covered with tapestries of varying origins, curved their way into a nearly perfect circle. Large Imperial columns stretched high, supporting what looked like a second open floor before reaching the roof, which bloomed a dull, shimmering gold. Most likely reflecting the orange glow of the towering torches that hung from the columns at near ninety degree angles. The room seemed to convey the sense of private study meets elaborately decorated arena, especially with the odd smell of dust and blood wafting through the air.

"I want it from you now." A gloved finger pointed out, tentatively tracing an arching line over Hera's forehead.

"What you keep hidden away in there."His searing orange eyes fell over her face with a sort of childish wonder. The darkness of the room had enveloped most of his features, leaving the pair to be blanketed by triangles and squares of shadow.

"You will teach me what you know."

[The Gemellae]

The room was close to silent with barely a hum from the communications panel. The room only had a portion of its lightening systems operating, most likely due to the maintenance going on through the ship. The long obsidian table lined with tall chairs took advantage of the poor lighting casting eerie shadows that stretched across the room. The illuminated panels blinked intermittently causing portions of the room to flicker in momentary darkness giving one the perception that perhaps they might have blinked when really they didn't.

That thought was probably crossing Sasseeri's mind now as across the room, in a corner she could have swore she saw a pale skinned little girl standing there, staring. But the panel blinked back to life and again the shadows were cast, re-enveloping portions of the room. It was nothing, shadows at the corner of her eyes playing tricks, this sterile Imperial architecture was to blame. No wonder her imagination was running wild. Then she heard it. The drag of fabric?

From the corner she came. Melting from elongated shadows. The little girl was crawling, hands and toes sprawling flat against the ground. She moved unnaturally, her body rigid like a puppet being tugged on spastic strings. Ever crawling forward, the advance caused Sasseeri to apprehensively hug the table with her back while her claws dug into the nearest chair should she feel the need to shield herself. Then the little girl paused, her head twisting with a sickening series of cracks to give the half-breed a sidelong stare. The girls face was deathly pale, her lips a parched and cracking blue and when she opened her mouth, nothing but black.

"You're pretty." The crawling ones lips moved but it was from behind the voice came. A child's voice had never sounded to unsettlingly sweet. From the corner of her eye she could see it. Another little girl, identical to the first, she was standing innocently on the table nearly face to face with Sasseeri.

"So pretty." The girl on the table raised her arm slowly at first, her fingers writhing like worms as she reached for the gangsters cheek.

"Madam Sasseeri?" The voice caused Sasseeri to blink. Squinting hard to make out the silhouetted figure of Inquisitor Mephis standing in the rooms doorway. "I can show you to your quarters if you are...ready?"

The girls were gone. Leaving Sasseeri still pressed against the obsidian table while clutching a chair.

[Hera]

The sheer arrogance of the man was astonishing. Would he be denied anything? Ever? Hera doubted it. At least, she doubted that had ever been the case in Tear's recent history. His command and expectation of implicit obedience were not effected - they came as natural to him as breathing.

On the procession to what Hera could only describe as an Imperial overstatement of scale and grandiosement, she had been deliberating on what had taken place in the meeting room - The coercion of the Cizerack businesswoman into locating De'Ville, a dangerous and elusive terrorist; the revelation of a new Empress being thrust upon a gathering of unsuspecting Moff populace; her own position as prisoner being reaffirmed along with her cloned selves revealed to her as further pawns in the Grand Inquisitor's personal agenda. These things had filled her head so that trotting along obediently beside Tear had been automatic and almost natural.

She'd ignored all the bowing and scrapings of the lesser officers and personell along the way, barely noticing any of them until, ushered into the impressive arena, the incredible dimensions of the place demanded her attention.

Tear began speaking in his usual unprevaricating manner. Hera pulled her eyes from the fantastic surroundings and laid them on her 'student.'

Instead of addressing this most recent demand, Hera dissemilated, "You are gathering to yourself some remarkably volitile females, Tear." She walked forward, moving deeper into the shadowy arena, her voice reaching to him like a willowy hand to kneedle him with cold, boney fingers. "And you are not being very friendly about it" she added coyly. "I wonder if you really know what you are doing...?"

Surely Tear could not imagine that these women - Sasseeri, Lilaena, herself (it was unclear where Tear's designs lay with Tarkin for the present) - that these women would not seek some form of retribution for the treatment recieved at the Grand Inquisitor's hand. A woman's wrath is a terrifying thing, and these weren't the galactic run of the mill females Tear was messing with. She shuddered to think of the pain any one of them might inflict on him. But all three..

"Your first lesson would be to remember that not all inferiors you stomp your Imperial boot on will remain that way" Hera smiled slightly as she said this. "I hope you will keep that in mind"

She circled around to step closer once again to Tear, his face having been half hidden in the darkness and was now visible. It was just the two of them, and Hera felt the shift of dynamic as the force inside her simmered just beneath the surface - a development Tear was not yet aware of. She drew on his own selfish nature, sensitive to a like-minded self promoting ambition that was akin to her own. His eyes were fierce and her smile broadened as she stepped up to whisper in his ear, "I know you Tear. I know. We are the same, soon you will see that to be true."

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

It was like something out of a bad horror holo. Sasseeri's breath was caught in her throat, her skin crawling as the girl reached for her cheek, but unable to move. When Inquisitor Mephis interrupted, the Vigo looked at him, her blue eyes wide, and then she looked back at the girl only to find that she was gone.

Gone! The first girl was gone as well.

Sasseeri leapt to her feet, nearly breaking her heels as she stepped to the side too quickly. "What the frrrell jis gojing on jin herrre!?" She looked behind her and then quickly scanned the rest of the large room. Mephis looked at her as though she were a wild animal ready to attack him.

"Uh, I'm not sure..." Mephis said, sounding a little annoyed. "You were informed you would be staying on board."

She looked at him sharply, then stalked towards him so quickly he took a step back. "jI am not stupjid, jInqujisjitorrr." The title was difficult to pronounce. "The two... human gjirrrls. What sorrrt of game jis thjis?" She felt herself consciously putting her back against a bulkhead as she looked warily around.

[The Message]

Inquisitor Mephis felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment when his elbows stiffly reminded him on how he was holding his arms, like a man caught in the headlights of a oncoming speeder. Conservatively he grabbed the bottom of his tunic pulling the top portion of his uniform straight in an attempt to salvage any remaining pride.

"I'm not sure what you are referring to Mrs. Reeouurra." The Inquisitor cleared his throat on hearing one of the guards snicker to his left. "No Games madam, I assure you, your quarters are prepared. As for the human girls we have a number of female crew serving on board..." Although from his orders Mephis knew Reeouurra wasn't to receive any visitors. The Inquisitor gave a questioning look to the soldiers stationed outside, each shook their heads negatively, reaffirming there had been no visiting women or 'human girls'.

"Perhaps there are some specifics on these 'girls' you can share on our way to your quarters?" The red clad officer directed an inviting hand down the hall.

[Tear]

He listened, his head twisting ever so slightly, as if he was trying to resist Hera's chilled whispers. Tear let the words that fell from her lips strip away his Imperial shell, peeling back the layers of his conditioned mistrust until it found something vulnerable to cling onto, his ambition.

Hera immediately sighted in on his designs for the women with grandiose parts to play in his delicate puzzle. It was true, they were volatile and dangerous, a trait they all shared in abundance. They also possessed another shared characteristic. Anyone who at one point held some resemblance of power always had the thirst for more. It was that appetite for more that would bind them to him.

But she was wrong if she thought the Inquisitor viewed them as inferiors. Sasseeri had not been a target of opportunity. Tear had conducted profiles on all the major players of the organized criminal world. He had picked Reeouurra over the Hutts of Nar Shadda, over Herish Gill, boss of the Dead Signs Syndicate, and even over Sorsha Kasajian, her human rival. Sasseri was a cunning creature of devious intent, like most women are, managing to clean away her competition as innocently as a child licking a sugar spoon. The half Cizerack business woman was a force that could likely never be tamed and that is why he chose her.


"I know you Tear. I know. We are the same, soon you will see that to be true."

"Are we?" He asked smoothly, his lips falling a short distance to rest beside her ear. The smell of her. There was something intoxicating about it that drew him in and for a moment his chest burned. The sensation was familiar something exhilarating he had felt earlier. A seething hate churning deep and buried like some angry choleric god who had been chained beneath a mountain, forever lost.

For the moment he forgot about the seriousness of Hera's statement and remembered what it was like to be in the presence of a god.

Ardent eyes slid closed, letting his mind fade to the vehement memories of his past. It was on Cartoa Tear had looked into the face of a summoned god. Tracing the ruined weathered edges of his face to stare into the abyss of his soulless fated eyes. Through them he visited his tortured past under the short leash of Darth Vader. Those times would be the inception of his undying hatred for this universe. The beginning of his search for power and the path to leave worlds burning in the wake of his future. In the years to follow his god would pass on images to help with the future he was constructing.

'Hera DrenKast' his god would growl now with a splitting, cracking series of images.

Tears eyes snapped open so startled he nearly spoke out loud, his lips mouthing the words his voice held back, "You..." What was that he felt? One of the twins? He scanned the second level, for any of the girls who may have been lurking and watching, but they weren't. No, squinting he focused on his daughters, they were several decks below. Again he felt it, the dark ebb of a tide pulling his attention back to the woman in front of him, back to Hera.

"If I take your lesson into practice should I not destroy those before they have a chance to rise?" Tear reached up to circle a lock of Hera's hair back behind her ear his gloved hand however, continued to hover at her neck, emphasizing the point to his deadly question.

[Hera]

She saw what he was doing, what he threatened, and matched him eye to eye, will to will.

"Go ahead" she challenged.

It was as if all sound, all presence, had been pulled from the room in a vacuum. There was nothing now, but Tear - his flaming eyes, the tenseness in his body like a coiled spring straining to snap, his hand to her throat, poised, deciding.

.."Go ahead"... she spoke inwardly into his turmoiled mind, their combined inhale-exhales the only sign of the shared humanity between them.

[Tear]

"Go ahead" Her voice echoed with hollow clarity challenging him with each reverberation. To do otherwise was to show weakness and that was a mercy he could not afford. His eyes widened while his fingers twitched with lethal want. Tear's mind was already indulging itself, imagining what it would be like, for just a moment, to slowly crush the life from her.

But gods image was still clear in his mind and Hera DrenKast had been alive. No, he had barely begun to orchestrate her part in the play. She would not get off so easily.

"And who should I start with?" His clenched jaw faded along with the weight of his glare. His hand retreating back as he folded his arms across his chest with reluctant restraint.

[Hera]

Well, Hera knew who she'd start with - the twin freaks he called their daughters, thats who.

But she let the question slide for the moment.

Perhaps Tear could not tell, could not sense, the fire that was kindling throughout her by being so close to him. Thinking on it now, Hera realised she had not been so openly exposed to a force user for many many years. With the brief interlude with Tear at her capture by Project Nightmare as the exception - her exile in Mykyr and subsequent captivity within the Imperial Citadel had kept her completely insulated from any influence or exposure to Force users. The Mage, Rommelisch worked the dark art, but he had a discipline of control, cloaking his true nature from her.
Feeling the Inquisitor's wanton hate and dark intensions rolling off him in billows of viscid aggression, DrenKast let it bleed over her and seep into her being. She began to look at Tear with new eyes. A kindling fire.

She remained standing close to him, her voice taking on the mantle of a teacher to answer him atlast, "Only when they serve you no further purpose, Tear, thats when you take such dramatic measures. Move too soon, and you do yourself the more harm." He didn't look impressed.

Hera shrugged and circled around him, Tear's head canted slightly to follow her in his peripheral. She came about on his other side and asked, "Did you bring me to this room to fight?"

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

"Specjifjics?" Sasseeri spluttered, "Otherrr than they werrre ljittle, crrreepy as frrrack and have rrred hajirrr..." She looked behind her as she followed Mephis down the passageway. "They just appearrred out of no...wherrre..."

The Vigo caught the look Mephis gave one of the guards that were flanking them, and snapped her mouth shut. She was starting to sound crazy. "Neverrr mjind. jIts been a strrressful day."

Sasseeri clipped along slightly behind the Inquisitor, her high heels sounding loudly on the deck plating. After the droid crashing through her office window and then getting swept up into orbit only to learn she had to locate some dangerous criminal for a half-crazed Inquisitor it was no wonder she was seeing things. Obviously that was what had happened. Little girls did not just appear and disappear in locked room, especially not while handing out compliments.

Not that they were wrong. jI am qujite stunnjing. Sasseeri ran her fingers through her hair, lengthening her stride to catch up with the red uniformed Inquisitor Mephis.

[Tear]

"No." Hera twisted about him in another slow circle, seeming almost disappointed in his answer. "I come here for greater knowledge of things I do not fully understand." He could have choked on those words but this was not the time for ego. It was the truth, Tears understanding of the force was gained only through his own experience and often there wasn't time to ask questions in his 'encounters'. The majority of his past although murky under Vader's dominance bore scarring and painful reminders of his missions. But there was one vivid certainty in those black memories and that was the Inquisitor knew how to fight.

Those crushing times still weighed heavily on the now Grand Inquisitor but his rank had not always been so privileged. A memory of Darth Vader describing Tear as a very disposable weapon was an accurate description. He was no apprentice or even pet project to the Dark lord. He was a cast away, barely tolerated, for his very strength was likely to be the cause of his destruction. Rage governed Tear's abilities and with that rage came his power. Although lacking in the technique he had witnessed other dark siders and Jedi alike exhibit. The Grand Inquisitor's command of the force was more akin to a sludge hammer compared to the finesse of a trained Jedi's rapier. The brute force of it was often enough to fend off most of his opponents though there was a grim trade to be paid for its use.

It was Tear's fatal design. His rage would often inflict mental and physical side effects when used in conjunction with the force. The debilitating afflictions ranged just as wildly in relation to his power, to mere head aches or fevers to failing internal organs, internal hemorrhaging and even the possibility of death. It was his secret, gifted to a very select few of Inquisitor scientists and doctors under his direct command.

"It is a place of focus, where I come to put the pieces together. Though blood does spill here as a result from time to time." Beyond their sight in the darkness that veiled the surrounding pillars and tapestries stood rows of tomes. Dusty books collected from numerous extinct or enslaved worlds some having fallen to Tear, others the Empire and some even to the universes' unpredictable indifferent hand. There was a messed bed, its covers torn, having been recently slept in while chairs dotted both the upper and lower levels of the room. Desks with wrinkled pages of notes and weathered books strewn about with their pages ripped and left like dying leaves over the ground. Although some corners of the room bore the fruits of frustration it was more often Tear came here to try and gain an insight of his past or more recently, his future.

The room was also the academic place of study for his twin daughters. Where he taught them what little he knew of the force. They displayed great aptitude for the force and to Tear's pride, or jealousy, greater finesse then he had ever achieved. Often putting what little had to teach them to shame. They seemed to retain buried knowledge of their genetic legacy with a demanding control the Inquisitor could only marvel at. Together they were powerful and free from the affliction of rage that handicapped their father. But their inheritance was not without another curse.

Proximity was the deficiency that had fallen onto the twins. Their connection to the force and their strength in controlling it was directly proportional to their distance from each other. He had always considered it a genetic flaw caused by the process in which they were created added to his own defects but perhaps their mother was to blame for it. The Inquisitor had never considered the source of the weakness to be the result of the 'other half'. Tear eyed Hera, her smile still broad and toothy, like a Nexu (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Nexu) toying with its food. He sensed an anger in her he had never before tasted, mistaking it for Sasseeri's hatred for Sorsha Kasajian. But now there could be no mistaking its source.

[Hera]

"No." Hera twisted about him in another slow circle, seeming almost disappointed in his answer. "I come here for greater knowledge of things I do not fully understand."


"Knowledge" Hera repeated, as if it were the first time she'd heard the word. She continued in slow languid steps, Tear following her with his storming eyes, and she made a show of pondering great matters. Hera always did tend to the dramatic whenever she could.

Her sly smile broadened. Tear wanted a lesson in the darkside did he? How appropriate that she would be the one to give it to him. And him even asking. She always hoped the galaxy would right itself and the Sith -- her, in particular -- come once again into their rightful power. Perhaps, feeling as she did now, today might be one of those steps toward such balance.

"You have to go with your strengths, Tear" she said, a shrewdness in her words that Tear would certainly become familiar with. "You fight the rage inside you dont you?" She kept circling, "But that is where the power is. The fury, the Emotion. You, especially, are a very angry fellow..." She could feel him seething just beneath the surface, enraged that he had yet so much to learn and that his teacher would take every insight she shared as an opportunity to goad him. "...It is good that you use this."
And as if to show by example, Hera came to a stop and used what was one of her strongest strategies - a beguiling charm that would draw her in close allowing her to sting her target with a paralysing strike. She leaned toward Tear, her eyes lying to his, an innocence in them that was as impossible to believe as it was to ignore. She smiled softly and Tear leaned slightly away from her in distrust, yet held by some fateful curiosity. He hadn't seen her take the blaster from his sideholster until she brought it up casually to wave it in his face.

Tear's reaction was immediate, grabbing Hera from behind her neck and levering his strength against her, he forced her to her knees. Sharp pain jolted up through her joints as she was humbled so roughly before him.
"Let me go" she ground out between clenched teeth.
This seemed to only anger Tear further, and he stooped, pushing Hera so that she was bent forward, her face crushed against the floor. She'd tried to resist, pushing against the floor's surface with her hands, but she was no match for him. He was too strong, too angry "Like this?!" he demanded sarcastically, "I should use it like this!!"

Hera could see her reflection in Tear's polished boots. His angry face not held far from hers, his breath hot on her neck. And in an epiphany, Hera saw that this had been her life for the past few years, forced to cringe like a beaten dog at the Imperial heel. Tear, Helghast, Valten...even that bloody Crestmere.. She had been the rock for them to repeatedly crush beneath their jackboots.

The swell of the darkside came to her as furious as a turbulent sea, rising and seething in the ebb and flow of inexinorable tides. Like frothing, roiling waves surging into an underground cave, the confines of stone walls forcing the salty water to burst skyward in unimaginable force, sweeping anything in its path up, and outward of the blowhole to jettison in witness to its splendid power. It was much like what happened next to Tear.

All the frustration and humiliations of her lost ability and captivity by the Inquisitoriate boiled up in her now-reawakening sensitivity. The small, furtive experiments of her force use under the watchful eye of the Imperials of recent times were nothing in comparison. Here, in this private setting in the company of a fellow acolyte, Hera was compelled no such constraint and with a complete abandon allowed to flow what was instinctive and fundamental to her.

"I said, LET ME GO!" she yelled and unexpectedly, Tear did. He was flung high, and far, with momentous force. He sailed across the dark recesses of the room and Hera heard, more than saw, him land with a considerable crash onto the rumpled bed. A loud crack attended the landing as the bed's frame snapped beneath the impact.

Hera stood up and walked forward towards Tear, who was now righting himself into a sitting position, feet on the floor and tugging at his jacket to adjust it back in place. He did not expect the look that was on Hera's face. And, in truth, he doubted whether anyone had seen such a look ever before on her. Bliss. Hera was smiling in a brilliant fashion...a sane person might find it quite disturbing.

Hera was elated. She could not remember ever feeling such a joy and satisfaction that the expression of such force power had now brought her. She beamed at Tear. "Lesson's done" she announced, "Didn't you say something before about dinner?"

[The Message]

"Understandable. The Grand Inquisitor can be a trifle to deal with at times if I may indulge personally." Red hair? Mephis knew of no acting crew members with that hair color and little? While there were few children on board they were quarantined to the medical and research sections of the ship, if any had escaped he would have been informed.

Their trip was short to the upper level of the Star Destroyer if Sasseeri had been watching the turbolift's navigation indicator. This floor was different from others as its floor paneling was intact, there were no maintenance teams rushing about and it held a decor that felt oddly un-imperial. The floor was a melted black and reflective like the rest of the ship had been but the walls were covered in rich tapestries and works of art. Some of which Sasseeri immediately recognized as their origins were rare.

"This entire level has been designated to you during your stay." A door slid open as punctual as the ending to his sentence. "And this is your room."

To describe it as rich and elaborate would be an understatement. The opening room was as large wide, as it was tall, with a chandelier at the center of a tapering ceiling, made of singing crystal from Da'nir. An extremely rare material that was said to sing to anyone who crossed its threshold in a soothing tone. Upon entering there was several tables set up with appetizers of various shapes and colors, the far plate to the left looked like it held something still alive and moving.

"Colonel, please sweep the room make sure our guest is at ease." The Inquisitor managed a polite smile. His orders were to make Sasseeri feel comfortable for the time being and he was doing his best to do so, however schizophrenic she may be.

"As you wish." The colonel still had his helmet off as he took a squeezing step past the pair, followed by his seven soldiers.

"Frell me. I've never seen a guest treated this nicely. What do you suppose she is to the Grand Inquisitor?" The intercom between the helmets sounded as the squad fanned out through the various inter connected rooms within the suite. The colonel was quick to mute his, thanking the gods he had been in Sasseeri's closet when one of his men decided to speak freely.

"Mistress. She's gotta be. Did you see that spread of food?" Came a response as one of the black clad soldiers stepped into the shining white bathroom. Fit with a sonic and free running shower while sporting a large bathtub already filled with bubbles and still rising with steam. The soldier spread the bubbles aside and washed the water about with a gloved hand to be sure no one was hiding.

"Doesn't seem his type. Plus who tells their women to eat more. Bathroom and bedroom clear."

"And you would know? Closets and lounge clear as well." Another soldier answered as he finished sifting threw the racks of dresses, shoes, and jewelery. All of which were sorted by style and culture apparently by a creature with a good taste for fashion as well.

The seven soldiers silently drifted back into the welcoming room of the elaborate suite with the Colonel giving his head a nod to Mephis. "Its clear sir."

"Thank you Colonel." The Inquisitor slid sideways with a familiar inviting hand offering Sasseeri to enter. "Please help yourself to tide you over until dinner, which is in an hour. A bath has been drawn if you wish it and there is an extensive collection of women's clothing for you to pick from. They are now yours as is the rest of the content found within this room."
The Inquisitor gave a nod to the soldiers who marched from the room and took up their positions guarding the entry. "If you should have any requests or questions please access any communications panel and simply ask." Mephis bowed his head and quickly disappeared behind the hissing sound of the matte gray door that slid shut behind him, locking.

The hors d’oeuvres, jewelery, clothing, perfume, everything down to the silk that lined Sasseeri's bed had been thoroughly researched and cross referenced with her intelligence file. It would probably be a delightful surprise at first being presented with everything Sasseeri deemed a favorite but then slowly the thought that someone had picked these items on purpose. That someone knew her tastes intimately meant someone must have been watching closely for a very long time.

But that thought would only haunt a women like Sasseeri for so long before she decided to 'frell it all' and indulge, at least, that is what Mephis hoped she would do. After all it had been a stressful day.

[Tear]

Tear managed a weak smokers cough amidst the settling cloud of dust. The broken frame popped and cracked under his weight as his hands found ground and he shifted forward, sitting up slowly. It had taken him a moment to recall the last few blurry moments. Vaguely remembering seeing his feet, where his head should have been, as he sailed awkwardly through the air to a crunching conclusion. He moved to stand and several of his vertebrae announced their cracking disapproval. So the Inquisitor sat for a moment, watching as Hera's seductive silhouette emerged from the murky, dust filled, darkness like some deep sea predator rising towards the surface.

She looked rather proud of herself. Her smile wide, almost drug induced, matching her confident saunter towards him. The Inquisitor's blaster still dangling in her right hand as she benignly asked about dinner.

Dinner. Tear could feel the anger swell in him. The impudence. The audacity. The sheer defiance of it. His hearing dimmed behind the roaring rush of blood that pounded like a storm of feet across a hollow stage through his veins. He would have ripped her to pieces then and there if it wasn't for the sheer force of will coupled with that of surprise. The look of which was drawn clearly over his face between an irritated wince as he pulled a shard of wood that had embedded itself into his forearm like a nail upon his crash landing. Tear gave the bloodied shard a look of disdain and tossed it to the side.

Her display of strength while not completely unforeseen had taken him by surprise. What he had sensed as a smoldering spark had quickly exploded into a uncontrollable inferno. Was that what she was now? Uncontrollable? To be suppressed, a prisoner for so long, it was no wonder she unleashed in the way she did. To finally fight back, Tear could understand on a personal level it was something he was never able to do against Vader. But to tip her hand and show all her cards was an immense mistake. Her strength with the force had returned but her deftness in its control had not. As shown by her display of pure rage it was an emotional response not something she had planned.

"Maybe now you may be of some actual use to me." He growled from his sitting position as he gave his high collar a flick a resulting puff of dust sprang away. Slowly the Grand Inquisitor rose to his feet, his shoulders rolling out an ache as he straightened. It would take time to sharpen her skills and remove the rust. In that time he would take the knowledge he needed.

Tear's glare was biting as he suppressed his anger for the woman that stood so defiantly pleased in front of him. But his anger would wait, just like she had told him, if he killed her now her knowledge would be wasted. Her time would come.

His hand shot out, ripping the blaster from Hera's unfocused grip. The loud slap of the weapon hitting his hand echoed briefly through the room. Tear promptly holstered the weapon.

"Wipe that smile off your face." His fist clenched and his posture quickly showed the shifting tide of his will faltering against his rage. "You've tested your limits today Hera and this is a line that will not be past again."

Although she had gained something valuable to herself Hera would soon find most of her freedoms the Grand Inquisitor had planned to permit were now lost. When not needed he would have her shackled and imprisoned. When not imprisoned she would be escorted at all times and if she disobeyed again there would be scarring consequences.

The Inquisitor stalked forward and for a moment the room shuddered with intent as he passed Her. Several tomes falling from their snug place on the surrounding shelves with dead thuds.

"Who said you were invited to dinner? Besides you have a mess to clean up." Tear gave a flick of his wrist as he was leaving sending a nearby tome (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?p=294020&posted=1#post294020) that had fallen to the ground hurdling toward the Sith's head. He didn't bother to linger to see if his toss had found purchase but instead relished the sound of the door locking behind him. He would return in just under an hour to see what progress she made and then, maybe she would have dinner.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Sasseeri immediately tried the door again, and found it impossible to open. Convenient that the entire level was supposed to be hers, except that Mephis had cleverly locked her into the suite. A gilded cage, if she'd ever seen one.

First her eyes had popped at the change in her surroundings, and then they had narrowed with suspicion. Someone had been planning on keeping her here, and had been planning it for a while by the looks of it. The Grand Inquisitor (forrrmerrr Grrrand jInqujisjitorrr?) could have gotten information about her tastes from the droid that had been planted with her since before his disappearance.

She wandered through the suite, her slim cocoa hand trailing along the luxurious furnishings and fine silks. Stopping by the table, Sasseeri picked at a steamed fish with her fingers, absently putting the flaky flesh into her mouth as she looked around.

A bath sounded good, but if those girls could get into a locked conference room, it stood to reason they might decide to appear while she was indisposed and in the tub. The half-breed bared her teeth, and looked down at what else had been set out for snacks. A glass bowl held in a handful of tiny while sajoi, their pink tails and noses lookin positively adorable. Sasseeri put her hand inside the bowl and let them crawl over her, their cold little feet tickling her.

On second thought, she needed to relax and think. And the trip over in the battlescarred shuttle had gotten carbon dust all over her. She felt postively grrrjimy after her trek through the ISD as well. The Vigo looked over the suite once again, taking paticular note of the opulent bed. Perhaps there might be some fun to be had here after all. Though Tear didn't seem to be interested in her in that way... she wasn't one to not consider the possibility of a sexual tryst with her captor.

After all, Inquisitors had needs, too.

Sasseeri shuddered a little, and looked down to see that she'd consumed most of the fish that she'd started in on. Licking grease off her fingertips, she walked to the bathroom and unbuttoned her suit jacket, and then her blouse. Dropping her clothes on the floor she dipped her toes into the warm water, and then quickly sank into the tub, bubbles up to her chin.

Eyes closed, Sasseeri lightly rubbed her skin to dislodge any dirt, her tail wrapping around her body and its tip lying between her breasts. Aaahhh... She shifted slightly under the water, her lips curling with pleasure as her hands continued to explore.

[Hera]

She watched Tear's retreating back, heard the click of the door locking after he exited and felt a bitter spite rise in her throat like bile. What a kill-joy.

The tome he'd launched rudely in her direction had been caught in her hands quite by accident. She had intended to deflect it only, but it had come at her too quickly and had thudded against her chest where she could only clamp it to her instead. She flung it disgustedly across the room, where it landed amidst the tossled bedding with a muffled thud.

She should have known Tear would react in such a fashion, seizing again the chance to put her in her place and stomp out any fleeting pleasure she may have felt at the display of her force power. The actions of men such as Tear should never surprise her. Had she lost so much of herself that she repeatedly failed to remember this?


During her entire sojourn amidst the Imperials she had sought someone with whom to form a semblence of alliance with. Grand Inquisitor Valten had eventually presented as her best hope - his turn of character and personal ambitions being, for Hera, the most relatable. Not like the cold, robotic Helghast who had an impenetrable durosteel shell, Valten atleast had human qualities to him and had permitted himself a certain cordial disposition toward her, a civility that she had hoped to exploit. But Valten had not let her in. He had distanced himself from anything other than the needful interactions between them, fulfilling his duty as her captor and nothing further. She had found even less luck with the Nightmare officers...Scothis, Jerrard, even Reyok. All of them showed her a consideration that befitted their orders and duty only. Nothing more.

She did not blame them, of course. In truth, she admired that they had proved so incorruptable - a credit to their loyalty and willing indoctrination of the Inquisitoriate. No wonder the glaxay shuddered under their relentless march of power and intimidation.

And now here was Tear, her supposed Apprentice, who held the reigns with such a clenched fist that he would see her choke rather than submit himself to her authority, delighting in her weaker position and lording his authority over her with obnoxious frequency. Bastard.

With a sweep of her hand Hera plucked every book from its place, including the two ridiculous Deathstar miniature model bookends, and scattered them to every corner of the enormous room. She strode in the dim light, upending the two small chairs and their desks, upsetting the contents that were set neatly within them - stylus, papers, trinkets dear to small girls the Universe over - shiny necklaces, pretty beads, ribbons with frayed edges. These Hera took particular delight in unravelling to shreds and lifting their tattered shards to float lazily in the moving drafts of the room, allowing them to drop on the naked flames of the wallsconces to sizzle and fizz into a smoking ruin.

She was alone. Still. Hera shook her head at her foolishness for harboring any slight hope that it might now be different. Had she become so great a fool? She had always been alone. There were people she used in the past, people she'd needed that had been in her life - even the odd one who'd amused her for a time, but Cyrus Haman really couldn't be classed as people.. Ultimately, she always realised that the only person she really ever knew or trusted was herself. She must never forget it.

Hera eyed with malice the huge chamber in all its now shambling mess - hating it, hating the students who's voices echoed here. Hating Tear for creating them and for having the upper hand over her. Still, with the upper hand over her.

She looked at her chrono....she was hungry. And why the frell wasn't she invited to dinner? Hera pulled the mattress to the floor from its broken bedframe and flopped herself down onto it. The tome had fallen open where it had landed and Hera, for want of anything else left to occupy her, picked it up and began to read. It was about Tear. She groaned audibly. Of course it was about Tear. Despite herself, she read, her interest growing as it revealed a personal journal and, guiltless of feeling like she was prying, read on for some time until she was interupted by a new thought..The Cizerack was invited to dinner.

Tear really was such a bastard.

[The Message]

There is an idea behind his cold features. A dream written in the tongue of madness that burns so vividly in his eyes. I am one of the few who know the nightmare that entertains his thoughts day in and night out. Still I do his every wish, his every bidding task, without hesitation I fulfill my duty.

Do I believe in it? Are my willing hands as covered in blood as his? Or is this quaking fear that stiffens my joints at his presence what keeps my obedience? I imagine myself waiting for the right time, biding my moments to topple and unravel his schemes with some heroic action. Then I blink and find him looking straight into me. He knows what I dream as I know what he dreams. Yet I remain alive and though I breathe this air I cannot help but feel each gasp is one he wants me to take. I feel when I walk its simply because the string retreating into my back has been pulled.

Are we all just toy soldiers to him?

End personal log.

/Ended. Saved file successful.

Mephis sighed smoothly as he pushed himself away from the desk. His eyes staring into the ground letting his shoulders relax and rise with the sense of some small guilt being lifted from them.

"Computer. Delete most recent personal log entry." The Inquisitor had discovered some time ago it was therapeutic to vent his troubles but he was not as stupid to think his logs were not monitored. Standing, Mephis straightened his twisted uniform, and blinked resettling his gaze. It was almost time the operation should be complete by now. He made his way from his quarters, through the twisting sprawl of corridors. The walls of which gaped open halls with cabling hanging from them, like some jungle vine. He entered the bridge where a data pad was quickly slapped into his unprepared hand.

"Report?" Mephis asked, arching an eyebrow at the Inquisitor opposite who handed him the data pad.

"Mission was deemed successful. We lost some of the packages in delivery but the rest have been secured and will be arriving shortly." Responded Inquisitor Beldren, whos eyes were always dark and swollen, seemingly from lack of sleep, but the man never seemed the least bit dozy in his duty.

"Acceptable. Thank you Beldren." Mephis took slow deliberate steps toward the forward viewports of the bridge. On either side of him were the sunken pits of the bridge crew. A bustle of activity as usual. His pace came to a slow leisurely drip before stopping. The Inquisitor spared a look back at the crew, who for the most part, were too immersed in their duties to notice him. He tapped the play button on the data pad and watched in silence:

Video playback:

A parade of deathly red was flanking a stream of black and gray that made up the condemned river of Moffs. You couldn't help the irony of such high class delegates being herded like cattle into waiting transports. They were usually entertaining the bleating masses that made up the Empires citizens and now it was them. Stripped of power, forced to baby step towards their doom with nothing but humility.

What would it be like? Mephis thought to himself. To be an animal corralled into the slaughter house expecting your end. But when you looked up instead of coming face to face with the tools of your end, you find your rescuers. A new life. Or in the case of the Moffs selected by Tear, an extension. They would be unknowingly selling their soul to the devil under the mask of a saint.

The video playback seemed to be coming from the helmet of an Inquisitor, or several, which was edited together for his review of the 'op'. He knew from the briefing Valten had selected his most loyal for this task but even among his loyal they still had spies, however few. The real advantage would come when the escorting Inquisitors brought the Moffs to the transports waiting just outside the Assembly Hall. It would be there a game of statistics would be played.

Behind the masks his men would know which of Valtens loyalists to take out first. They knew how many would be in each transport and they knew how many of their own they could count on. But what they didn't know is how they would be paired up. How many of Valtens men would filter into each transport. Would it be equally? With the group they escorted? In some cases more of Valtens men ended up in transports out numbering Tear's plants. In those cases his men would sit quietly, fulfilling their original orders. As not all the Moffs condemned were selected most of the transports would remain on route. It would only be on the prized few shuttles the 'supposed' heresy would occur.

The video play back flipped through scuffles between red. Inquisitor against Inquisitor, something he never thought would be witnessed, yet alone perpetrated by one of their own. Weapons were drawn, lightsabers hissed to life, all the while Moffs scattered to the deck plating as the storm between soldiers broke out. But no blood would be shed. Any scuffles were immensely one sided, Tear's plants only moving if they had the advantage coupled with that of complete surprise the resistance was only out of shock. The video play back settled on several unmasked faces a wash with disbelief.

It was done. The shuttles valuable cargo would be swapped to another set of waiting transports before rocketing into orbit to dock with Tear's task force. The old shuttles would have their transponders disabled and Valtens loyal soldiers would be restrained within until they were found, likely days later in the depths of Coruscant.

Mephis choked a breath down, tapping the 'stop' button on the pad he let it dangle loosely at his side. What had he become? Was this really for the good of the Empire? He needed answers. No more idle philosophical questions. The troubled Inquisitor escaped the bridge the same way he entered, relatively unnoticed. Taking refuge in the seclusion of a corridor torn apart by maintenance teams, who for some reason were absent at the moment, he tapped his communications band.

"Grand Inquisitor. You wish to be informed of the mission once complete?"

[Tear]

Tendons tensed through flesh and skin as his soaked foot settled comfortably over the fluffy mat. The nerf (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Nerf)wool eagerly drank up any drop of water that rolled its way off the Grand Inquisitor's body. Reluctantly, Tear stepped from the warmth of the shower, still swallowed in the steam that rolled lazily throughout the bathroom. A passing hand glided with a light screech over the slick of condensation that coated the mirror.

"Debts..." He stated dryly at his reflection, the sight of his black tattoos spiraling thin lines making their way across his chest and arms, down along his back and across his hips they dripped, black as oil. A visible reminder of the affliction that possessed him. A gift from a shaman on Iridonia, withered hag, he thought sourly. Then as if she had been watching, the muscles in his back rippled and strained with spasm. His knees withered beneath his shuttering weight, almost collapsing. A vain attempt to hold onto the sink simply sent him sliding, swiping off assorted containers that went crashing to the ground. Veins popped from his neck, his eyes clamping shut in the spare moments between paralyzing coughs that raked through his chest.

The sound of water rushing filled his ears, he had accidentally struck the tap activating it in his frantic attempt to keep himself from falling. His chest rose with rasping breath and fell in near deathly silence. His body remained still, his knuckles white as they rigidly clung to the sink counter. His muscles shivered with weakness as he hung from the counter ledge with his legs weakly bent. With conscious effort to unpin his fingers from the sinks rim. Using his free hand he reached down to place it on the floor in support. There was a smack of flesh on wet ceramic as his other hand released and came down hard. Golden eyes opened wide scanning over the containers he had sent scattering across the polished white floor.

A gentle execution. The premonition from his god, the vision that had come earlier was not without its price. There was only so much strength he could muster to delay the inevitable side effect that would slowly destroy his body.

"You do not control me. Not yet." His voice a callus growl speaking to no one but himself and the disease he grappled with. Hunched over on hands and knees, Tear timidly lifted his arm toward a shattered container. It jumped and skipped once, then twice, over the floor peppering the polished white with the sparkle of broken glass. Once in hand the Inquisitor flicked through the broken vials until he came across one with its silvery liquid contents still intact. A quick pull from its case revealed a syringe. There was no hesitation, only the craving of addiction, and the needle was quickly plunged into flesh injecting its contents.

There was a moment of wretched pause. The liquid that was injected felt like ice snaking its way through his system but the sensation would pass. Droplets of crimson made their way down between beads of water. Rolling to the cusp of his upper lip to fall with shattering contrast against the white floor. Then, as it was expected, everything past, the constant drip of dark red slowed to a stop and the pain faded in much the same way. His body would rise unnaturally quick with a single full breath to accompany his strengths return. Cold hands wiped the smear of blood from his face rinsing it clean through the still running water.

"Grand Inquisitor. You wish to be informed of the mission once complete?"

Tears golden eyes flashed open, his body leaning forward over the sink on his forearms, he had nearly fallen asleep. A still trembling hand reached down to the ground plucking his communications band from the floor.

"And." The Grand Inquisitor responded simply, tossing the device on the counter, it slid to the back giving the mirror a suspect twang.

"Nine of the fifteen selected will be arriving." Mephis's quick statement reflected Tear's short tempered demand. He knew when his superior wanted the basics and when to indulge him. Now wasn't the time for indulgence.

"Any casualties I should know about?" Tear flushed his face with water again. The rinsing water felt cleansing washing away any weakness that remained. Testing flexing digits on a once again steady hand confirmed the invoked episode had passed.

"None of our men. Two of the moffs were killed and the rest were unable to be liberated as we lacked enough loyal personnel in their escorts."

"Traces?" The Inquisitor walked from the bathroom. His personal droid standing at the ready with a dry towel.

"None. Our virus remains in the Imperial command communication systems."

"Good, I will take the full debriefing near dinner. I will be expecting you to join us Mephis. Your presence is always a welcome one at my table." The towel soaked up what little water remained beaded on the Inquisitors skin. He discarded it carelessly to the side where the trailing droid eagerly plucked it then tucked it beneath an arm. The droid had already set aside his masters tailored suit.

"I would be honored." Mephis's voice was sincere but Tear noted something hesitant lingering just beyond spoken word.

"Is there something else on your mind Mephis." Black aeien cotton the Grand Inquisitor noted approvingly as he slipped on the long sleeved dress shirt. The droid had done just as well with the other chosen items he had set out. Once everything was on Tear gave his reflection a scrutinizing look over. The full length mirror displayed his black suit, black pin striped shirt, red tie, black shoes. Not exactly Imperial. Not exactly a fashion statement either. It suited the occasion. As friendly as dinner sounded this was a business meeting and not all business was pleasure. Although his guest Cizerack likely held a far different point of view.

"Sir...I don't mean to question or step out of my boundary's but Valten, and his men, are they not our brothers? This attack...was it..." It was a dangerous subject Mephis was treading a thin line of treason and heresy. The Grand Inquisitor was not known for his easy going or accepting demeanor when his intentions were challenged.

"Valten has forgotten his place." Tear promptly cut Mephis off, but his voice remained confidently calm. "Though he may spit at the thought of politics he has willingly put himself and the whole of the Inquisitoriate into its public face. He has taken his zealous nature for order too far. What were once whispers in the dark are now speeches in an assembly hall. Valten no longer acts in the darkness he has forgotten the imperative of our order."

"But to turn against our brothers?"

"We have not. The Inquisitors are the unseen will of the Empire. If Valten wishes to turn those he commands into something else he may do so but we will remain in the shadows. No matter the color of your uniform, if the will of the Empire deems it so, I will do what I must to see us to the future. Will you?" His voice shook slightly as his hands moved about his collar giving his tie a tucking loop to bring it together. He straightened it getting an approving nod from his droid.

"Yes." Mephis didn't hesitate.

"It pleases me to hear it. After the Moffs arrive let them rest and gather themselves they have been through an ordeal. Then bring them to the dining hall to join us." Tear shot out his arms giving the length of shirt a check and adjusted the cuff links accordingly.

"As you will it, Grand Inquisitor."

Tear stood silently after the transmission ended. "As long as the Empire deems it so." He let a smile pierce his features as he tasted the words. "I am the Empire."

[Tear]

Thirty Minutes Later aboard Tear's ship, "The Abaddon"

Tiny glittering particles of dust danced in the shiver of orange torch light. Falling with the dust were bits of ash still smoldering with a tail of wispy smoke tracing their way amidst shards of broken furniture and splayed books. The vigil of torches flickered violently as if the room had suddenly taken a great suck of breath. From the corner of Hera's eye she caught the movement of a silhouette moving observantly through the destroyed remains of the room. Ash and dust that had been settled seemed to jump nervously from their resting spots in his silent wake.

Between pillars the vigilant torch light gave form to Tear's features which had taken a look of being dull fully unimpressed. Completing his semi circle on the outskirts of the room he came upon Hera's lounging form.

Tear sighed. "Are we done with the hissy fit?" Hera answered a look of contempt, naturally. He took a cautious step back, giving a nearby book a flick with the tip of his dress shoe. He had somehow remained immaculately clean as he made his way through the corridors infested with dirty maintenance teams. Tear wasn't about to let this dust bunny imitating a Sith ruin that.

"Because I can always come back later." The Inquisitor carefully craned his neck trying to read a few paragraphs of the book Hera had open in front of her.

[Hera]

Canting her head so that she could look up at Tear without disturbing herself at all, Hera arched an imperious eyebrow, "Well, dont you look pretty."

She'd watched him approach her, drifting gradually into the scope of light from out of the darkness so that he appeared a demon-wraith taking slowly to itself the form of a man. Tear was dressed impeccably and, as sometimes happens to men who are always seen in uniform, when presented otherwise, tend to lose some of their authority - it was not so with the Grand Inquisitor. If anything, he took on an air of polished ease that would have one believe him born to a life of society and privilege and that this, not the uniform, was who he really was.

"Nice suite" she remarked dryly, looking back down to the book, "...Though the red tie's a little pretentious."
The red tie, in fact, looked perfect, but damn if she'd tell him that.

Clearly, the hissy-fit was not over. Tear turned to leave - like he'd said, he could always come back later. But Hera spoke again, giving him pause.

"Do you still have it?" she asked, her voice a little too still.

It was Tear's turn to cant his head and arch an imperious eyebrow, "What's that?" he queried, attempting vague.

"The Artifact you stole" she raised the tome slightly for reference. "Do you still have it?"

[Tear]

He made a slow turn on his heel, the sound of something gritty being grinded beneath it echoed disgustingly. It was with innocent curiosity he looked at her then. A small flash back of memories reminded him of a past Hera, several in fact. Seven clones had been introduced to the artifact in hopes they could decipher the Sith inscriptions that had been etched into its very face. But with their life spans so limited their focus was hardly concentrated and only one managed to get very far in the translations.

"Oh that." The toothy smile that grew wide and large across his face was enough to make even the most monstrous shark shrink in confidence. "I do... still have it." Tear knelt, giving his pants a light tug at the knees, his height melted away until his face came to rest in front of hers.

"But the question is, would you like to see the one I stole or the one I found?" A soft wave of his hand lifted the dried journal from her dust covered palms and sent it sailing across the room with a concluding thump. The Inquisitor offered the very same hand to the Sith in a gesture to help her to her feet. Hera's nimble fingers reached out for a moment and then instinct kicked in and she paused. Thinking better of it, she slid her hands to the ground and forced her own way up. Tear's grin faded somewhat as he rose with her once again regaining his towering advantage.

"The one mentioned in that old creatures journal is a device known as a Spaarti Cloning Cylinder. It's what was used to clone you and several others. Now the one I found..." The Inquisitor had been guiding them out of the room while he informed her of the device she had just read about. He turned just as the entrance opened blinding Hera with fresh, sterile, white light from the outside hallway. "Is much more interesting."

Tear took her hand, guiding her into the hallway, giving her no time to let her eyes adapt.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

One towel wrapped around her body and another in her long blonde hair, Sasseeri padded through the suite, examining it a bit closer. Picking up a fork and the bowl of sajoi mice, she walked to the front door.

It was still locked, of course, and she could just hear footsteps beyond. A restless guard, perhaps. Well, she wouldn't be causing any trouble. Yet.

After a few minutes the Vigo returned the empty bowl and a bent fork to the lavishly laid table.

Walking to the closet, Sasseeri let the towel fall as she looked inside. Her tail flicked from side to side as she pushed aside dresses and assorted clothes, admiring the taste of the person who'd picked them out. Then again, that person had obviously been watching her closely, so this was just an extension of her own taste. Which was exquisite, as she'd been told once or twice. Her eyelid twitched at a memory.

Pulling out a blue silken dress that would show off her eyes, Sasseeri pulled it on over her naked body. There was no reason why she shouldn't dress like a sexpot. The Imperials seemed to expect it from her, so why disappoint?

[Hera]

Squeezing her eyes shut to ward off the rude glare she was suddenly introduced to, Hera was appreciative of Tear's guiding hand, content for the moment to allow hers to rest lightly in his firm grip. Seconds passed and her eyes opened again, along with Tear's palm and Hera withdrew her hand. "Of course I want to see the other Artifact" she said with her usual caustic heat. Tear would know just how much.

He was playing her artfully, and why not? He'd been having lots of practice during his mad-scientist phase and, thanks to her clones, would be very familiar with her personality and responses to be able to trigger almost any calculated response he so chose. Hera had no such advantage. Tear, by and large, was still an unknown quantity to her and she would not be able to easily manipulate him as he might her. He was not another Cyrus who would trip over his own feet in eagerness to indulge her pleasure. He was, in fact, like no man she had yet had dealings with. Tear had a thinly veiled insanity to him that masked a cunning briliance - discovering which side he was presenting at any given time would be the real trick and one Hera hadn't any practice for. It would be a developed skill, and one that would take time. This irritated Hera and Tear saw it in her face so that a small smile tugged the edge of his lips subtly upwards, making him look almost sweet. It was a fool who believed in such a smile.

"Why do I feel a catch coming though..?" she asked, knowing Tear would not allow her to see anything that would not further his own agenda - and at this stage of their bizarre reunion, Hera was quite uncertain as to her true role in things. "You know, Tear" she added, voicing a truth that the Grand Inquisitor must himself surely realise, "...At some point, you are going to have to trust me"

[Tear]

The pair advanced through the web of corridors seemingly to no where in particular. Hera could only watch as Tear lead on in silence to her question. A left turn, then a right followed by three more lefts. It would have come as no surprise to her if they had managed to perform an elaborate circle ending where they started, but they didn't.

Instead she found herself floating through near darkness in an unfamiliar room. An entire crystal clear wall, made from transparisteel, enabled starlight to keep the darkness at bay. It was a tall room with a short spiraling stair case. The steps didn't creak or groan when she stepped on them as they lead her to a second, open floor. The second floor, like the first room, was spartan in its furnishing. The second floor held a single bed placed in the middle of the room with a sliding door on the far right wall, leading to a bathroom. The bathroom held a sonic fresher, and an older classical style fresher with a high walled tub at its base. Also in the bathroom was a sliding door that lead to an elaborately large walk in closet. It was full of clothes of various styles and designs for nearly any occasion. Some of which had already been worn and still smelled of Hera.

The bathroom itself seemed an organized mess and the sith traced each object with curious fingers tips. It felt as though she had been here before but she knew that was impossible. Every object held a place, she need only look to instinct to find where she might have put it herself and there it was. Like the comb, near the sink, with strands of her blonde hair still clinging to its bristles.

Tear appeared silently from behind Hera as she clutched at the hairbrush. She could see him, reflected in the mirror, his orange eyes lit with cruel curiosity as he stood there, watching. What was it that welled inside her. Confusion? At knowing the familiarity of these items? Or was it rage that dripped from her heart, flooding her body like adrenaline. Rage at Tear's audacity to create clones of her image, that breathed, lived, and talked. But that's all they were, just ghostly replicas in her image. They were alive but they didn't live as she does, there was no un quenchable defiance in their souls. They're hair was blonde and shined as silk like her's does. They had ice blue eyes, pink lips, delicate fingers, and lithe bodies with unnatural strength, as she does. But cloning as much as it is to make a copy is also a point of divergence. They become different beings and choose different fates. Did Hera see that? He wondered observing what was probably morbidly surreal scene for her.

"Maintenance has disabled main power in this room, which is why the only light you have at the moment is star light but I will have them re-activate it when I leave." Hera didn't turn she merely placed the brush back down onto the counter in the same spot she found it.

"Dinner is in fifteen minutes. When you are ready there will be a droid outside ready to lead you to the dining hall." Tear moved to leave then stopped as he had begun his descent down the spiraling stairs. "You spoke before of trust. Trust is earned Hera and loyalty is something you have not been tested for yet. Yet..."

With that, the Inquisitor was gone. Once more leaving Hera alone with only shadows and stars to keep her company.

[Hera]

It was the oddest feeling of de'ja vu. Hera knew she had never been in this room before. Knew these items her fingers were alighting on were never hers - but they felt 'anticipated'.

She looked at herself for long moments in the mirror. She could still see Tear standing behind her, his blazing eyes gleaming sickly from the shadows, though he had left some time ago.

In the half-light, Hera tried to see what her clones may have seen. Something knowing, perhaps, reflected back at them. Had they a sense of misuse and betrayal? Real, but without an understanding of why? Her own eyes glinted darkly as she explored her feelings, rising in them to taste the rank abuse Tear had inflicted on her copied self. There was one bracing sensation that called to her above all others - despair and hopeless inevitablity. Each clone had an intuition of what had befallen her predecessor - that experimentation, and ultimately death, waited upon her.

Hera looked into her own soul, but failed to find any pity there. She would never have allowed herself to share such a future.

True to Tear's promise, the power had been re-enabled and the lights went on, bathing Hera in a stark lumination that showed her face hard and humorless reflected in the mirror.

She was hungry and dismissed the sense of restless emotions that swirlled about her like lost ghosts, peeling them from off herself even as she removed her clothing and turned her attention on the deep tub, setting the water running. She'd take a good soak, rummage through the closet and find some thing to wear, it didn't matter what, and be in time for the main course. She hoped Tear atleast had dinner as formally and richly as befitted his rank, that way there was bound to be something left when Hera arrived, even with that Cizerack at the table.

The refresher room filled with the steam from the hot water and in its languid mists Hera stepped with bare toes, like her every self before her, into the fast-filling bathtub.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She'd changed her clothes three times before settling on a smartly cut dark grey suit with a cream colored camisole underneath. She could have sworn she had the same outfit in her closet on Coruscant.

Slipping her feet into a pair of expensive heels, Sasseeri sat and stared at the door. Apparently the Imperials were more than happy to let her sit and wait on them, letting their vaunted punctuality be disproven.

Being trapped and then ignored was infuriating.

[Tear]

It was a haunting feeling that caused the hair on Sasseeri's neck to stand on end. Before the dull click of the door unlocking in front of her and before they hissed open, she knew it was him. Standing there, hands clasped neatly behind his back, his eyes were cast down. It was with a slow deliberate blink he brought them up to meet Sasseeri's impatient gaze.

"Sasseeri as always, you have left me speechless without a word to describe, but I sha'll try anyway." Tear took several careful steps forward and with a low bow, stole her hand away to lightly kiss the back of it, "You are ferociously beautiful." He finished with a smile, one so genuine and kind, even the most selfish child would give up their candy if he asked. The Inquisitor tried to ignore the fact Sasseeri had started to climb back out of her chair at his touch.

"I do apologize for the wait," With raised eyebrows he checked the electrum plated chrono that circled his wrist, "But I had to welcome some guests and make sure they were seated before I came here. You understand of course?"

"Of courrrse." Sasseeri retorted with the purr of a kitten.

"Good...shall we?" Tear offered his arm and the two escaped down the hallway with Sasseeri's Inquisitorial guards in tow a comfortable distance away. "Tell me Sasseeri, how is business?"

[Hera]

Back in Hera's room, the Sith stood peering at the assortment of clothing hanging three arm-spans wide within the closet. There was something for every occassion - casual, formal, there was even swimwear and a Gi for martial arts training.

None of it was hers, though her tastes were such that she would wear all of it. And she had, in other life times.

She slipped on the karate uniform, knotting the belt tightly around her waist and worked through a controlled routine, just for the pleasure of it.
It felt good to feel strong again - the arts always empowered her that way. After a time, she took the Gi off again and hung it back up.

She began flicking though the items as she walked the closets length, taking her time to select something that took her fancy. At last, a simple garment caught her eye and she took it from its place, pressing the dress against herself.

"This'll do" she decided.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She didn't want to be holding his arm, but despite herself she was relaxed. Languid, almost. The bath had worked out the stress kinks in her muscles and she felt ready to take on whatever mental or physical obstacles the Grand Inquisitor might put in her way.

"Bujisness jis good, but you know that." Her tail looped up through the crook of his arm to rest beside her slim hand and its carefully manicured nails. One fingernail was broken, clipped short compared to the rest. "jI'd say jI can't complajin, but thjis sjituatjion leaves a lot to be desjirrred."

[Tear]

"Does it?" If Tear's voice had been a soup, its ingredients would be as follows: Mix one part curiosity with three slices of genuine distrust. Add strength for thickness and let simmer until temper is hot. Add a dash of contempt for spice. Serve and enjoy.

"Which part? Was it the large debt I forgave in return for a small favor? The luxurious room perhaps? It's contents which have all been gifted to you? Admittedly, I do forget what criminals prefer...perhaps a cell would be more fitting? Or maybe its something else..." The smile that played the part of gentlemen on Tear's lips had faded somewhat. Clearly the Vigo didn't know how bad her situation could have been.

"As much as your underlings may miss your vital presence, I am sure, they can manage your enterprise in your absence." The Inquisitor took a left at a cross road in the corridor they had suddenly come upon. The hallway they were now traveling down began to gradually widen eventually leading them to a large set of doors. The pair slowed to a stop just before reaching them.

"There is method to this madness you are made to suffer under." The Inquisitor turned to face Sasseeri. Her Cizerack eyes regarding him with cautious curiosity. "I hold those allies useful to me in very high regard and there are perks to be held in such view, as you will soon find. Behind this door is a dining hall. Within it, seated and expecting dinner, are some very elated Moffs. These men and women of prestige will be requiring a delicate hand of assistance in acquiring goods that will soon be unavailable to them."

The half breed craned her head to the side as if viewing Tear from a different angle might shed some light on his enigmatic proposal. The Inquisitor didn't wait for her to ask him to elaborate.

"They were on a list. A list of traitors to the Empire and I have rescued them from their designed fates. After this dinner they will retreat back to their sectors and begin for the inevitable siege from the Empire proper. When this happens they will need contacts, smugglers, arms dealers, you get the idea. It is my intention to introduce you to them in hopes you can provide these services or point them in a direction where they can gain them. Either way, wars are expensive and those who supply whats in demand are the only ones who prosper."

Punctuating the point the doors to the dining hall leisurely slid back to reveal the scene. It was a dream of white. From the base of the four columns lining each opposing wall to the crystal chandeliers that hung like glass clouds. The ceiling reached so high as to give the impression you were planet side rather then in the bowels of a star ship, a battleship, no less. Carved into the walls were two high perched balconies that held a string quartet each. Dressed immaculately for the occasion the eight musicians kept a soft melody floating down for those dining below to enjoy.

The table itself, a bone white shade, was rounded and more wide then long. Allowing for those at opposite ends to partake in any conversations that may arise. The chairs were the only contrast in the room which held a dark chocolate color.

The Moffs turned at the action of the doors opening. They're conversations halting, several took up their glasses, already filled with a dark ruby red wine, and raised them toward the Grand Inquisitor. Tear merely inclined his head with a smile acknowledging them politely before turning back to the Vigo.

"After you Sasseeri."

[Hera]

The droid Tear had stationed outside the Sith's door was a dwarf. It barely even registered as a real droid in Hera's opinion, coming up to only her waist in height. It was one of those R2 units, not even a stuck-up protocol droid who, at least, could have made inane conversation with her as they made their way to the dinning hall. Still..it wasn't a floating orb like IMP, who had been her constant companion for over two years - a glaring red electronic eye that shadowed her every move, the extension of Helghast and his omnipresent watchfulness. The R2 was a step up, she supposed, even if it did smack of insult.

It whirred and bipped when they were due to turn down a new corridor, then the next, and Hera negotiated the changes accordingly. They passed the occassional personell, but no one met her eyes. She smiled, they couldn't help looking at her legs, though.

The dress she had selected was a simple one..bordering on plain, even. Hera liked it, the cotton/silk blend of the fabric caressed the skin, made her feel clean and indulged. The length was all wrong, however, and after a brief search, Hera had found some scissors and cut the whole bottom half of the dress off. She had paired it with some low-heeled strappy gold sandals and the look was just what she wanted. A put-together woman lacking the polished edges, giving herself (http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b84/abberition/jaime-pressly1.jpg) an air of unpredictability and barely constrained wildness. Tear might bring her to the party, but that didn't mean she would behave.

The majority of the guests were all ensconced inside, and Hera's arrival timed perfectly as she entered through a side door to see the assembled Moffs tipping their glasses in toast to their grand benefactor. Tear, with a stunning Sasseeri beside him, acknowledged the gesture before he escorted the Cizerack into the great room.

It was a fabulous affair, the decor dazzling in its perfect arrangement. Hera, her dress of white, though complimentary to the furnishings, was the one detail that lacked the refined attention everything else had been given. She eyed Tear subversively as he strolled deeper into the room.

Beside her, Mephis followed her gaze and remarked, "Impressive"

"If you say so" Hera replied, attempting to be cavilier - and not quite managing it.

[Mephis]

Mephis managed an awkward smile attempting to dodge Hera's subtle jab at the Grand Inquisitor's efforts.

"You...look" His eyes wandered just for a moment but it was enough for Hera to catch him doing it. Revealing that even beneath that red uniform and strict Imperial wall of etiquette he was still, just a man. "Uh well, I mean, may I?" He shuffled just a little too eagerly to Hera's proposed seat and pulled back the chair. Despite his genuine efforts she paid him no more mind then a common waiter, not even acknowledging him with a thank you, her attention it seemed, was elsewhere.

Mephis, defeated for the moment, chose to quickly retreat back to his seat next to her but instead found his wrist suddenly held back being clutched in a steel like grasp. To his surprise he found himself staring into Hera's blue eyes. Her pink lips parting eloquently as if to speak...

"If your up, grab me a drink won't you?"

"Ah." She couldn't let him retreat with what pride he had left. "Of course." Hera released him and went back to subtlety eyeing some of the Moffs around the table. Mephis rubbed his wrist lightly, first making sure his actions were hidden behind his back and out of Hera's roaming eyes. No need to give her anymore ammunition she already had. He completed his turn and motioned one of the waiting crew men over.

"Sir?" The waiter snapped to attention his eyes staring straight ahead and not at the man nursing his wrist.

"Ithorian Rum." It was a potent drink. Mephis was disregarding the voice of caution resounding in his head that was alluding to the fact it may not be a good idea to give this woman a buzz that would likely loosen her lips around the Moffs. She shouldn't have been invited at all. A prisoner invited to a delegates dinner? What did she have to do with any of this? The Grand Inquisitors new toy? To hell with it. "Make it a double."

The Inquisitor straightened his uniform. It was court black with a crimson shoulder not something any Imperial would have recognized as it was something new. The Inquisitoriate also did not own a fleet but Tear had taken this task force and made it his own. With that came changes to uniform. All of the Navy personal that had been native to the ship had undergone an induction into the Inquisitorious those that didn't pass Inquisitor expectations were put to other uses. His collar was high, stopping just below his ears with three golden rings circling it, indicating his rank within the fleet.

That was also something new. Specific ranks within the Inquisitoriate proper were few but very different. Most Inquisitors within the citadel shared the same duties and thus the same rank. With exceptions coming in the cases of High Inquisitors and even the Grand Inquisitor.But under the Grand Inquisitor Tear's new order new ranks were required to fill duties that were required in his ever growing campaign. Mephis was gifted with one of the highest ranks in the fleet as a result. Something he hadn't decided on being a curse or a gift.

Mephis took his time in returning to his seat next to Hera.

"Seems we have a few who will be late to dinner." Mephis commented mildly, trying to play it off as if he was speaking to himself, even though the only person within ear shot of his hushed tone was Hera. The Grand Inquisitor had Sasseeri on his left with two empty chairs following her. Then on his left was another empty chair followed by Mephis and Hera continuing through all the moffs until the circle completed.

"Patience Mephis. They'll be here." Tear's voice cut through the tables chatter somewhat causing Mephis to jump with surprise at the fact the Grand Inquisitor had heard his whispered comment.

[Baralai Lotus]

A groan could be heard echoing across the walls of a dark room, sliding across the steel walls like water, flowing out evenly across the vast emptiness that Baralai now found himself in. A groan that pushed from the very bottom of his stomach and into his mouth, where it was greeted by a flapping stub of muscle, desperately attempting to make something that resembled words.

The drug had worn off, and Baralai now found himself in a dark room, lying on the floor. The pill had blacked him out, and when he had gone to sleep he had been on the bridge of a Star Destroyer with Naberius, a Trandoshan he hadn't fully trusted, and now he had no idea where he was.

His strength was slowly returning to him, but he was unable to get up and move just yet. The pill had hit him hard, and even though he had tried to fight it, there was no way to deny his human self. He was still susceptible to drugs just like anyone else.

He stayed on the floor, looking up into the swirling darkness as his brain fought to bring him up to speed. He didn't know where he was, or what he was doing there, and he lacked the strength to stand on his own two feet.

His gloved hand fumbled into his jacket and pulled out a pack of smokes. Baralai opened the pack and removed one, placing it to his lips. The scarred folds of skin just beneath Baralai's nose pulled the cigarette in and he pulled a lighter from his other pocket. The quick flash of light seemed almost blinding in Baralai's current state, and he was quick to extinguish it. The only light remaining in the room was a burning ember, floating in the emptiness of the room, like a small orange star just birthed into existence, dangling and floating freely in the black of space.

Baralai felt the smoke enter his lungs, and as he took a breath in, his whole body tightened and then at one time, relaxed. The rush of smoke and nicotine began to slowly flood Baralai's senses, and he felt his blood flow speed up. His heart picked up pace and pumped blood faster through Baralai's body. He smoked slowly, feeling the warmth course within him. His head started to spin less and less, and soon Baralai would have his strength back and he would find out just where he was and who had put him here.

[Hera]

Mephis collected himself, resettling his composure into as relaxed a body language as he could manage given Tear's uncanny ability to hear him, and smoothed the white tablecloth with his palm absentmindedly. He looked up to find Hera watching him, a predator's eyes if ever he saw them.

The Sith lifted her glass, "Dont worry Inquisitor, he's not likely to throw any more Twi'leks (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=288356&postcount=7)at you today is he?" Her smirk was only half hidden by her long draught from the glass.
"Mm. You got the drink right, at least" she added, which was as close to magnanimity as Hera was likely to ever get.

The Moffs present at the table were an interesting bunch, most of them torn between apprehensive glances at Tear, their dubious benefactor, and lascivious looks divided between herself and Sasseeri. Either choice led them down unknowable and treacherous paths and they were appropriately skittish. She did not envy them their position. At least, Hera knew what her status was and that knowledge gave her a comfortable advantage in her present company.

"What a jolly bunch this lot is" she remarked to Mephis beside her a little too loudly. The officer looked hopefully about him to see if he was needed elsewhere. He wasnt. Hera nudged him with her elbow, "You think Tear will lop any heads off before dessert?" She took another sip of the excellent rum, "I bet that one (she gestured with her glass to a tall, balding fellow seated eleven chairs away from them) doesn't even get through the shrimp cocktail."

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Sasseeri blinked a little against the bright white landscape before her, filled with the grey of Imperial uniforms. So he wanted her for keeping his new allies supplied... not just some single minded pursuit of a crazed Force user.

Perhaps she had underestimated his ambition. But... no. The more she thought about it the more Tear's plans made sense with what she knew of him. She walked into the room, carrying herself with pride despite the fact that she knew she was in a room filled with some of the finest xenophobes the Empire could produce.

She was glad she'd chosen to look a businesswoman instead of a sexpot. Tear escorted her to her seat.

[Mephis]

Mephis let a warm smile ease its way across his lips. He couldn't help the light chuckle at Hera's prediction. The attempt at humor eased his own apprehension at being seated next to the Sith. Or was it humor? The way her eyes flicked between Moffs like the tip of a cats anxious tail. It was a telling sign of the deadly creature under all her unarming beauty. She could snap his neck with little more then a hinting twitch.

Mephis turned to face her fully. Finding the tip of her tongue pressed up against her front two teeth in a devilish grin. The double had been a good call, he thought to himself as he let his eyes wonder over her exposed neck line. Sensing his wondering eyes Hera casually looped several strands of her blonde hair back around her ear and turned. The mere possibility of eye contact caused Mephis to straighten and break away. Going back to nervously fiddling with the table cloth.

Hera smirked.

"Oh. Well, since you've picked the Odupiendo (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Odupiendo_racing), so to speak, all thats left is the wager. But I warn you our liege would not be so crude as to lop off that Moff's head at dinner. I say death by...Oh I don't know crushing. Maybe even his heart." Mephis leaned back in his chair as nonchalant as possible. "So Hera what do you have to wager?"

[Hera]

The comment had caught her interest, but perhaps not quite the one Mephis had expected.
As he was considering what she might wager, Hera turned on him the full force of her attentions.

"What would you know about crushing a man's heart?" she asked in a tone that was too dark to be flirtatious.

Mephis was aware that Tear and Sasseeri had taken their seats and as a comfortable reaction to it, the swell of conversation by the Moffs had risen around them. But where he sat, Mephis had become slightly uncomfortable, feeling suddenly that something was amiss. Hera held him in her gaze, her ice-blue eyes drawing him to herself. His heart, instead of increasing in pace under such open appraisal, was slowing and his breath seemed to not make it all the way into his lungs.

Mephis blinked, what would he know about crushing a man's heart..echoed in his mind.

Hera's lips gave the remotest hint of amusement, but her eyes were fierce in their concentration on him. Mephis' mouth opened partially and the gradual dawning of what the Sith was doing strickened him in his seat. He couldn't breath, his chest was burning and a slick film of perspiration was starting to coat his entire body. The force was slinking like a snake around his chest cavity, entwining tighter with each passing second around his heart, yet nobody seemed to notice - the fools surrounding him were chatting idly and wondering if they would be served soup. Mephis could feel the pressure intensifying, even as Hera leaned in toward him and slid her arm to rest languidly along the back of his chair. She whispered sincerely, though Mephis could be forgiven if he did not really believe her when she said, "Im a bit rusty, sorry if this hurts."

[Tear]

Despite the events that had lead the Moff's to this stranger's table they had found some small purchase of comfort. Conversations were flowing between the esteemed and Tear had left Sasseeri in silence for the moment to ponder his proposal. The nine Moffs on the other hand had been gladly indulging the Grand Inquisitor in conversation regarding their opinions of the new Empress. But despite the sounds of optimism in their voices regarding their rescue he could sense the concern they all shared for their future.

"Ah," Tear interjected, excusing himself from the conversation, "one moment gentlemen. To quote a famous human play write "Something wicked this way comes."

The opening of the Dining Hall's doors only dimmed the hum of conversation for a moment before they resumed in an even more excited manner. Sparked by the arrival of what appeared to be the last guests. Two women, young, in what seemed their high teenage years entered alongside a towering Trandoshen clad in drooping black robes. The Moff's spared quick and very curious glances at the lizard but lingered beyond politeness on the two young girls.

Smiling, Tear rose to his feet and made his way to greet the new comers. As the Grand Inquisitor approached his pace began to slow. It was a feeling of apprehension. At first he had thought it was the collective worry swarming about Moffs that had drenched the dining Hall. But when his gold eyes scanned back over his shoulder toward the table he found the source. Mephis was gleaming almost sickly, his mouth drooping open with each breath. Emphasizing the odd scene Hera was leaning close with an arm slung over his chair. Well that explains it, Tear thought to himself, rather amused at Hera once again pushing her boundary's. Then he turned back, knowing Mephis was an Inquisitor, and as such could handle himself.

"Father." The two girls greeted in unison. Each smiled politely giving an elegant curtsy which was realized to be more a show of their lavish dresses then a sign of respect.

"Very beautiful." The Grand Inquisitor gave each one of his daughters a quick kiss on the top of their heads before inviting them to sit. The girls dawdled in their steps taking time to look over the guests before their eyes fell, almost gleefully, on the half breed Cizerack. They grinned at each other, giving their red silk dresses a shake and eagerly took their place to the left of the Black Sun Vigo.

"Da'la Bal'ana Grrra." The reptile's voice boomed almost poetically in its rhyme as he greeted Tear. The pair reached out clasping the others forearm firmly.

"I'm glad you've returned." There was a sudden sound of utensils clanging off the floor. Drawing the Grand Inquisitors attention once again to the table. Glancing back over his shoulder he found Mephis weakly leaning under the table to retrieve whatever it was he dropped. The result of which seemed to cause Hera to jump in a startled fashion. Tear's face scrunched somewhat with confusion at the odd scene. Like children unable to sit still at dinner.

"Come and sit. Tell me how did Ouroboros fair in his test?" Tear had turned back to the Trandoshen with his question who in turned gave an unsatisfied grunt.

"Bro'la Grrro Ero."

Tear looked almost disappointed with the answer. He folded his arms and began to make his way back to his seat. His fingers stroked at his chin thoughtfully as he sat. The Trandoshen's robes fluttered with unnatural movement as he followed. The rippling wraps of cloth gave the impression of several creatures scurrying beneath taking objection to the reptiles forward movement.

As if to rouse Tear from his thousand light year gaze a line of waiters began to file into the dining hall baring platters.

"Good." The Grand Inquisitor stood again. "Ladies and Gentlemen may I introduce my two daughters, Gem and Ellae." The two girls rose from their seats in recognition with polite and genuine smiles befitting girls their age. The twins seemed a mix of classical Imperial style while smothering a hushed rebellious under tone. They wore the formal dress, adorned themselves with elegant jewelery, and seemed to attune to the reserved rigid behavior of Imperial nobility but it was apparent, even to the Moffs, that the twins were not what they dressed up to be. Beyond the costume parade they're bodies were still inked in elaborate tribal tattoo's. On one twin, Gem, red ink fell from her hair line, down her forehead to her eye brow, and another followed her jaw line towards her chin. The other girl, Ellae, had a similar design that scrolled down across her cheek and temple. They're exposed shoulders bore more of the same designs only bolder emphasizing the point, they were unhuman, unnatural, even heretical. To the Moffs, who were heavily buried in the trappings of Imperial society, the girls may as well be another species, for all they knew they could have forked tongues. A trait already covered by the hulking beast of a creature sitting at Tear's right. A seat historically of favor or nobility and power. A place apparently above them.

"Hmph." It didn't take long for the gawking Moff's to speak up, "How very quaint. Grand Inquisitor is it? I had the notion the man asking for our heads not hours earlier was the current Grand Inquisitor. Just how many of you are there exactly?" Moff Lorbar despite the pitiful bald look and sagging eyes was a man renown for his opinionated outbursts.

"Two." Tear retorted factually, with a sarcastic squint, having not been impressed with the form of courage the Moff had found.

"I think what my colleague meant was, if you are indeed part of the Inquistorious, why have you rescued us? We are of course considered traitors to the Empire." Moff Dural, who's crimes against the Empire ranged from selling weapons and ships to the Rebellion, to siphoning Imperial treasury funds into numerous illegal banking consortiums. Despite these short comings he managed to maintained strict control of his sector which consisted of Teyr, Vulvarch, Bassadro, and Devaron.

"Yes please enlighten us. We are not so stupid to think your little rescue has bought us our unquestioned freedom. There is surely a price." Again Moff Lorbar tested the line between courage and arrogance.

[Mephis]

It was hard to hear her through the whine of blood rushing through his ears. Accompanied by the feeling of being nauseas, light headed, and a growing cold numbness climbing up from his fingers and toes. She was doing this to him. Why? He had done nothing to her. Despite her situation and inclination of being a Sith. Mephis had made sure to treat her with some form of dignity. Now she was toying with him. Here? Now? In front of the Grand Inquisitor and the Moffs? Mephis tried to straighten his posture despite the pain. Even going so far as to lay his forearms at the table but when he moved to take a breath his lungs felt as if they were on fire and he recoiled in pain. His forearms dragging his utensils and napkin to the floor with a clatter.

Against what was being done to him Mephis played off the tinge of embarrassment that was appropriate and knelt down under the table to retrieve what he had dropped.

"Rust can be grinded away and tools sharpened Hera." His voice was muffled from under the table the rest of the guests couldn't hear him over the dinner party chatter but he made sure the Sith could. His numb fingers plucked clumsily at his fork before grasping it firmly to his palm. Then as he began to sit up he flicked the fork to a reverse grip and with a sharp motion slammed the prongs deep into his tormenters knee.

"Just keep in mind that removing rust can be a delicate procedure. We wouldn't want the tool to break." Mephis sat up and took a deep breath as the Sith's concentration broke and rightly so. "Would we?" He twisted the fork slightly, giving it another shove to sink it deeper into the meat of her knee cap. He let go checking his hand for blood and giving it a nonchalant wipe with his napkin, also retrieved from the floor.

Mephis had pulled his head back with slight surprise when a plate was set before him. He took his time re composing himself. All the while keeping the corner of his eye on Hera who had knelt over the table taking in a sudden and sharp breath at his surprise attack. Beyond the uncomfortable twisting of her hips she managed to keep silent not playing to the fact she was in pain.

With his confidence and health back in order Mephis looked to his dinner. The meal looked deliciously elegant. Consisting of a round steak, roughly half the size of his fist, paired with Rulind pears under a drizzle of some sort of black sauce. Scanning over the table it seemed everyones plate was different. The Chefs had apparently catered to everyone differently with larger platters of food set in the middle should anyone want to try another dish. The Inquisitor rolled his shoulders back and curiously leaned forward with his knife. Stabbing a morsel from one of the center platters. It flopped lightly like a pancake under its own weight, it was then he recognized it.

"Gungan ears. A delicacy to some species." It looked lightly seared and had been dressed with honey. Mephis moved the fork to Hera, who was attempting to remove the fork from her knee but the utensil seemed too slippery to grip and her hands accidently bumped the underside of the table drawing raised eyebrows of several nearby Moffs. The Inquisitor gave his fork a wiggle causing the ear to flop about like it would on a live gungan. "I hear they are quite good...if not floppy."

Mephis smiled. Even toy soldiers have their moments.

[Hera]

Many things seemed to have happened at once, but the most immediate claim to Hera's attention was the fork lodged firmly in her leg. It wasn't until Mephis, obnoxiously waving a hideous gungan ear in her face, that she found sufficient purchase to reef the offending utensil from her flesh. Expelling a serpine hiss, Hera glared at the Inquisitor yet drew away from him despite the obvious desire to throttle him, the quaking slap of meat a barrier she was not willing to cross.

As she held the fork in her hand, it's bloody tines caught the eye of a passing server who immediately swerved close to investigate. Hera seized the girl's thin wrist and as she drove the soiled fork into the heaped platter of abominations, Hera ordered her to remove the plate from the table. Mephis smiled smugly and tipped the ear with a touche' flourish onto the tray as it a passed between them on egress, the awful smell of them wafting after it making Hera turn a pained expression.

The ears gone, Hera would have liked dearly to lash back on Mephis, but Tear was now speaking and one horror was replaced for another. Gem and Ellae. So, the freaks had names. Tear could have called them Frick and Frack for all Hera cared, but the Grand Inquisitor's pride in them was undeniable. The girls did not acknowledge Hera, they did not appear to notice she was even in the room - their interest seemed particular to Tear and, curiously, Sasseeri alone. This suited Hera - the Sith was in no mind to claim any credit or relation to them whatever. Besides, they were such strange creatures, Hera was sure something had gone wrong in the recipe.

A plate was placed before Hera - a different server from the last to attend her - and Hera was pleased to note it consisted of vegetables and a white-fleshed fish drizzlled with a herb butter sauce.
Mephis nudged her over another fork, a setting having been replaced beside him, and she took it with an unforgiving scowl. He smiled inspite of it.

"This one might indeed lose his head" he whispered to her as Moff Lorbar ill-advisedly pushed his luck once, and then again. This thought seemed to cheer Hera up.

"You still want to bet?" she said grudgingly, the splendid fish beginning to bring about a better humor in her. "I....dont really have much to put up. But I'm certain I could steal something worthwhile before the evening's done."

[Tear]

"Enlighten you? That may take longer then just a dinner but I sha'll endure to try." The Grand Inquisitor slid his chair back and stood. Beyond the dining rooms table and pillars there was little else in the room and for all its size, it was relatively empty. The spartan design wasn't without purpose. With a flick of the Grand Inquisitors wrist the room fell to darkness. Then a low hum began filling dining hall from every direction. It was like opening your eyes to daylight, blurry at first but with time clarity settled. The dining table seemed to float amidst the stars and immediately above them was the glittering gold planet of Coruscant. The floor had fallen away to be replaced by a galaxy of stars. Even the orbiting defense fleet of Coruscant floated in the distance among the steady stream of shipping lanes coming and leaving from Imperial center.

The grand dining hall's blank canvas motif of white apparently wasn't a statement but rather an elaborate holographic projection room. From the floor, walls, and even the ceiling it had all melted away to give a crystal clear image of "The Abbadon's" orbit. Representing in real time imagery the ships surroundings. Some of the more surprised Moffs had found it prudent to lift their feet and grasp their seats from fear of falling. A few chuckles at their expense were shared through the table before the spectacle was put in perspective.

"Impressive, Grand Inquisitor, but how does this pertain to my lesson in enlightenment?" Lorbar's voice echoed from the black.

"Patience." Tear reached out to a point causing the space in front of his finger to ripple and magnify. "There they are." The sight was of a column of seven Star Destroyers with their names and specifications springing up next to them in the form of gold scrolling text.

Imperator, Monarch, Triumph, Eviscerator, Implacable, Agonizer and the Glorious Reckoning

"Those ships, while seemingly meaningless, are a small piece to a much bigger puzzle." Tear turned to face the table once again his fiery eyes a dim glow amidst the starlight of the room. "Like yourselves."

"Excuse me if I don't understand your meaning. Are you calling us a small piece of some master plan?"

They didn't know it yet but the debt they were afraid of paying had already been paid. They had been picked from a list before it was made public in Miranda's condemning speech. Since that moment the Grand Inquisitor had them investigated, followed, even tested.

"Yes, you are a piece of it. A small one. There are too many ego's in this room. Too many personal agenda's and goals. If I were to release the lot of you now. The Empire would quickly crush your single minded pursuits and your sectors would fall. The debt you owe is one of working together to put up a strong front of resistance."

"And you plan to lead this endeavour no doubt? If you think rescuing us from one dictator will sway us to bend the knee under another, you are mistaken." The rest of the Moffs joined Lorbar with earnest agreement. Even going so far as to bang the table with their fists as if this was some sort of senate meeting. "Especially one who dines with half breeds and other unsavory creatures. What a mockery this ensemble of beings you've conjured Grand Inquisitor. I for one sha'll have no part in it."

[Mephis]

"Mmm!" A sudden enthusiastic thought occurred to Mephis at the Moff's comment but his mouth had been caught full. He swallowed quickly. "Indeed. On the topic of half breeds, Vigo Reeouurra, did you know you are not the only cross breed at this table? It's true." Again he swallowed the last bits of food floating between his teeth.

"Our stalwart Avatar Naberius here is also a crossbreed of Chistori and Trandoshan. Although different species I can assure both his parents were equally as ugly."

Despite the personal jab Naberius's merely gave a lazy blink and continued staring straight ahead. Then with a slow deliberate movement snatched a round slab of meat from Mephis's plate. The hollow clapping sound of his jaws made the only retort required. The emphasis coming from the muffled sound of cracking bones being ground between the large reptiles teeth. Mephis wisely shrunk away and once again turned his attention to the wicked blonde on his right.

"You do not give yourself enough credit for a woman who holds the Grand Inquisitors interest you must have something of value. If I win you owe me a favor." The Inquisitor slid close to Hera. His eyes keeping track of her hands just incase she wished for some form of vengeance with a utensil of her own. "The Moffs are key to the Grand Inquisitors plans. I do not see him harming any of them, well, Lorbar continues to dabble with his fate so if any where to die it would be him. Perhaps...a blaster bolt to the chest? If I had to make a bet of it but not from the Grand Inquisitor. It would come from one of the band members in the balcony. After all they are more soldier then musician. That is my bet."

Mephis slid back to his seat and gave his plate a push away the conversation had turned his appetite. Sometimes indulging with unsavory characters was the only way to win their respect no matter the cost of ones own morals.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

She bristled at the half-breed remarks, but contented herself with digging into her meal with gusto as Tear droned on about ships and goals and resistance. Sasseeri appeared not to be paying attention, but she watched the display and those around her with sharp eyes.

Pulling apart a steak with her fingers, she bit off a huge piece and chewed thoughtfully as the Imperials bickered.

Sasseeri also kept an eye on the twin girls who'd entered the room a few moments before. The two that had accosted her previously on the ship. They gave her the creeps.

[Hera]

A favor? That was easy enough to promise and words were free.

"Of course" she replied, "Though maybe Tear will have me get rid of him, its been a while since I've had the pleasure"

She touched Mephis' hand deliberately and felt the involuntary twitch such contact brought. A low chuckle escaped her lips. Why, did she actually repulse him? She leaned closer, the same question for him in her eyes, but the Inquisitor was quick to cover and he returned her look coolly. Her smile broadened. "I think you and I are going to be very good friends, Mephis"

She gave his hand a friendly pat and returned her attention to Tear and his fancy light show.

[Tear]

"How disappointing, but not truly unexpected from you Lorbar. What amount of loyalty could I expect from those who were condemned because of their treachery and greed against the Empire."

A few of the Moffs around the table clearly looked offended at the Grand Inquisitors sudden bluntness. While others were taking the time to nervously stuff themselves, using a full mouth as an excuse to avoid their participation in an argument that was becoming increasingly heated.

"And rescuing traitors from the new Empress's law is above such treachery? You are no better." The Moff scoffed at the accusation, "What will you do with us if we do not serve obediently? Surely feed us back to Miranda and her dogs? That is after all, the way of dictators, is it not? To condemn us? Subjects of your own species! While you cuddle these... creatures so gracefully." Lorbar gave his plate a disgusted shove toward the center of the table with a resounding clatter.

"Moff Lorbar, I admire your mindless aggressiveness in the face of unknown odds. Reminds me of one of my pet Vornskrs. It is a trait I think I will keep in you but the xenophobic tendencies toward those under my command is something I will have to weed out."

"Oooooh this is my favorite part of the story." Gem whispered to her sister who then nodded enthusiastically.

"What do you mean weed out? Are you referring to this grand puzzle of a plan you keep alluding at? Its becoming quite drawl." The grand doors of the hall opened just as the Moff finished his statement. Allowing him the chance to spare a half-glance over his shoulder at the unlucky waiter who had walked in at the wrong time. He turned back to hear the Grand Inquisitors retort, but when only silence met him he realized he had already seen the Grand Inquisitors retort. It was the brief moment where Lorbar might have believed he was day dreaming, and when he realized he wasn't his attention violently snapped back to the door way.

"What nightmare is this..." Lorbar stood, pale and white. His wrinkled top lip drooped to a point creating a concave shape for his bottom jaw. It was a look of dopey disbelief to be sure.
"It is no nightmare." Tear responded coldly while propping one elbow to rest on the back arch of his chair. He waited to let the scene sink in before continuing.

By this time everyone in the room was staring at the surreal scene gathering at the halls entrance. The open doors had destabilized the holographic projection the room had been generating eventually causing the entire illusion to warp and fade. But even after the rooms walls returned to white the bizarre situation at the doors remained dreadfully static.

[Mephis]

"I think you and I are going to be very good friends, Mephis"

"It pleases me for you to think so Hera."

Mephis's smiled couldn't be more forced not that he did anything to hide it. He was no politician there was no need for him to indulge the Sith in her merry-go-round of mind games. A clattering of dishes snapped the Inquisitors attention back to the table and the resulting conversation, Lorbars raising voice in particular. The Moffs dish had been shoved away to join his own plate near the center of the table. It would seem despite the delicious dinner being served none were too keen on humoring their appetites.

Then the sound of rolling metal, heavy and crawling, like the grand doors to the hall being opened. Mephis, like most of the table, spared an idle glance thinking nothing more then a few servers possibly coming to comb the undesired plates away. Poor wretches had picked a foul time to run the gauntlet of tempers.

But they weren't servers. Not dressed in the colors of Moffs, or adorned in the silks of politicians.

"by the gods..." One of the moffs at the table hissed as she rose next to Lorbar. His face matched hers nearly in a daze and no matter how hard they blinked the sight wouldn't fade or focus to a proper reality where what they were seeing should make sense.

Standing in the halls doorway were a large group of truly familiar faces. Moff Lorbar, or someone who could be his exact twin, stood near the side of the gathering with Moff Dural near the center of the front row. Every member sitting at the table had their doubles counted within the grouping.

"What is this outrage!" Lorbar, the one at the table, had given an awkward kick to his chair sending it teetering backwards with a loud thump.

"No game," Tear waved a hand dismissively as he began to round his way toward the assembly of new Moffs at the entrance. "Its the reason I went through the trouble of 'rescuing' you. I couldn't very well replace you with duplicates while the Inquisitorious held the originals? Could I?"

"D-dub-duplicates?" Lorbar stumbled over his droopy upper lip.

"Clones more precisely." Mephis corrected accordingly.

"You've cloned us? How? When? For what rea.." Lorbar had been dribbling on speaking more out loud for his thought process then expecting solid answers and only stopping once he realized the conclusion. "Control..."

"Always the head of the pack aren't you?" Tear was looking into the eyes of Lorbar 2.0. "But yes, Lorbar you are correct, it is about control. I knew the lot of you may bend the knee temporarily, as long as it suited your purposes of survival, but your loyalties may have changed as quickly as a stellar storm rolling in over Korriban.

Your replacements will not falter in their command, will not break under torture, will not sway under persuasion of any kind, be it of flesh, drugs or greed. Their loyalty has been written in their blood and cannot be broken. Nearly a droid, if not for the fleshy wet bits."

Tear gave Lorbar 2.0's cheeks a pinch and smiled.

"But there is a loop hole of sorts. While their genetic duplication makes them privy to all your life experiences there is a noticeable, lets say incubation period, creating a gap of information vital to the running of your sectors."

"Ah." Lorbar murmured almost uncharacteristically defeated. "That is why you need us alive."

"Do not presume." The doppelganger stepped forward his voice echoing exactly like the originals in a scene that if not for science could only be explained as madness. "We will get the information required. The only question will be the state of you after the process. That is the only choice you need to make."

Mephis blinked slowly at the situation. It was going relatively more civil then expected. Take some of the largest egos in the galaxy mix in greed and paranoia and the result of it would be most of the Moffs dining at the table. Tear was backing a wild animal into a corner. Well maybe not a wild animal but an animal more or less who might choke on his own tongue then risk capture. Perhaps the unreal situation hadn't truly set in for them yet. The Inquisitor gave his chin a light stroke reflecting on how he might react if he had a clone come to replace him.
"Im surprised he didn't have one of your replicas for this grand unveiling." Mephis whispered in Hera's direction. "Oh wait, look at that...he does."

The Sith expectantly snapped her neck around in the direction Mephis had idly pointed a finger. Her head teetered back and forth, like an Alderaanian cobra readying to strike, her eyes trying to sweep out a bead on the subject.

Mephis snickered. "Just kidding."

[Hera]

So Mephis had a cruel humor to him. Hera supposed it only fitting that Tear would draw to himself men who were of like character, cold and cruel just as he was. She could appreciate such qualities and her irksome friend could enjoy a grin at her expense.

"You wont find that funny should he parade a shiny new Mephis out for you one day" she intoned. Hera could feel the shock and outrage reverbating off the assembled Moff's at their doppleganger's arrival. She had known the very same emotions and, while not exactly sympathetic toward them, she could atleast refrain from making jokes.

"He has laid his ducks out in a neat row, hasn't he?" she remarked dryly to Mephis, a hint of admiration for Tear in her voice. "I dont see there being much of an uprising against him - tonight anyway" she said.

The twins had their heads bowed together, twittering away to each other in hurried conversation and Hera twitched a little in her seat. "What do you think of them?" She slid a malevolent glance their way. It was clear she thought some very dark thoughts about them. "How could he do that?" she choked out, forgetting for the moment that Mephis could hear her.

[Mephis]

"You wont find that funny should he parade a shiny new Mephis out for you one day"
Mephis found his small moment quickly snatched away by Hera's words. His grin faded as he reached to take a sip of his drink in an attempt to mask the fact that the thought had occurred to him before. He had thought of a great many things since serving under Tear in his ever warping campaign. As time went on he found himself sunken deep beneath the shadows of doubt the Grand Inquisitor was beginning to cast. This newly shaped monstrosity Tear was crafting with borrowed tools and stolen lives and Mephis felt the fly captured in a much grander web. The worst part of it was he knew the spider and had considered him a friend.

Mephis swallowed the liqueur, its warmth burning away the cold feeling in his chest when his mind passed over such things. He nodded absent minded to Hera's comments on uprisings. The Inquisitor feigned his interest in the commotion. Keeping his eyes on the action. Mephis was never very good at hiding his thoughts. It was one of his major downfalls in training his instructor always said he had very 'telling eyes'. A bad habit of looking away when he was lying had plagued him ever since.


"What do you think of them?"
"Them?" Mephis followed Hera's dagger like glance. Across from them the two girls were sitting, taking turns whispering in each others ear. Unnatural, he wanted to say. No more children then they are terrible creatures given life by ruinous dreams. Mephis held no love for the pair since their birth had marked the beginning he began to discover the changes in his commander. He looked to Hera, searching her features for the genetic legacy she unwillingly gave them. Mephis had caught the undertone of her question; a taste of hatred that leaked from the tip of her forked tongue. Such dark souls you three must share, he thought. I wonder is that why you hate them so?

"I-" Mephis started.


"How could he do that?"
She sounded wounded. The whispered plea caused Mephis to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He had not been expecting Hera to bleat with such unguarded emotion. The Inquisitor's eyes studied the Sith in an attempt to decipher if it was genuine. Her blue eyes darted quickly to his scrutinizing ones, checking to see if he had noticed her error. Hera's lips tightened in an attempt to recover the stern visage of confidence she held like a shield for all to see. It seems the question was an honest one, how interesting.

"I've read your file Hera. I know you've witnessed him torturing a person surely that gives you an idea of the type of man he was." Mephis turned fully to face the Sith. He leaned closer so his lord and commander's keen ears would miss what he was about to say.

"That man you knew in that dark cell is gone, replaced by something I fear is darker, unrestricted by the morals the Empire tries to inspire in its followers. You asked before how he could do such a thing."

Mephis whispered his answer after a long moment of pause, "Easily."

[Hera]

His answer rang sound.
"Easily" Mephis had said. It appeared to be just so.

And while Hera held no compunction against committing acts of an atrocious nature, it wasn't pleasant to be on the receiving end of them. Call it Cosmic karma, if you will, that she should be a victim of evil plottings, but Hera never felt any affinity for such neat idealisms. Things happened, the strong survived them and the weak got consumed. Such Order has suited her fine thus far.

However, Mephis spoke of the Empire having morals and this she could not abide. Laughter bubbled up from her and were it not for the satiric gleam in her eyes, the sound would have been quite pleasant.

"I believe it was under such moral urging by your Empire and its leadership that the fellow in the cell was tortured as he was in the first place." In her mind she remembered Baralai Lotus, skewered brutally against the interrogation wall while questioned mercilessly by Y'roth Helghast and then, when his answers had angered the Imperials enough, had his tongue ripped from his head by Grand Inquisitor Tear. "I know all about such morals" she continued, "And you walk the same road as those before you, Mephis. Dont for one moment kid yourself that you dont."

She plucked his glass from his hand and raised it in salute to him, a gesture of inclusion and approval that he was a part of a select and enviable dynasty.

"I wonder whatever happened to that poor fool of a Sith.." she asked rhetorically.

[Mephis]

She laughed, and Mephis, like a school boy feeling out of the loop, smiled sheepishly in return. Even going so far as to chuckle lightly with, that was of course, until he saw the acrimonious look in her eyes.



"I believe it was under such moral urging by your Empire and its leadership that the fellow in the cell was tortured as he was in the first place. I know all about such morals" she continued, "And you walk the same road as those before you, Mephis. Don't for one moment kid yourself that you don't."

Typical. A blind response from a monster condemning the light for trying to brighten the day. She failed to mention the explosion that massacred a transport full of innocents. An explosion 'they' caused. Or the fact that the creature tortured was an aberration to sentient life in every conceivable way. Mephis held his swelling tongue, he knew she would find out for herself shortly.

How silly I've been, The Inquisitor thought to himself with a bite to the inside of his cheek. Nearly caught up in an argument of moral decency with a Sith. She then, suddenly and easily, snatched the glass from his sweating palm. Saluting, then giving a toast. A mockery of a gesture. I hope it poisons you witch, thought Mephis, as the bitter taste of the alcohol dried on his tongue.

[Naberius]

Meat. Between clawed fingers the steak was stripped of its flesh like an Ter'alean' martini olive from a tooth pick. It was an unsavory sight to watch a reptile eat. Even those grown into the grace of space faring civilizations. Some still lacked the grinding molars other species took for granted. Not that he cared, dinner manners were meant for those like the puppet soldier Mephis or business creature Reeouurra. Talking meat.

"Hera." The name was called in much the manner of a parent chastising a child who was about to touch something dangerous. Tear was standing amidst his glass eyed clones. They had broke apart a path for him as he approached. Giving the Grand Inquisitor a wide birth as if the very notion of getting too close to the man might be a kiss of mortality. Naberius's dagger like eyes swiveled to Hera who didn't look to be jumping at the idea of being called like a pet. Perhaps she needed an encouraging nudge in the right direction.

His shadow loomed over the Sith as he rose from his chair. Within Naberius's flexing jaw the deep muffled sound of cracking bones could be heard through his muzzle. The last bits of the steak he had been eating. It was a subtle hint to the Sith woman, hopefully she took it.

"Follow him." Naberius's voice was the murmur of thousands of flies buzzing. His gloved claw stretched out inviting Hera to stand.

"Mephisss, you will remain. Collect the information from the Moffs. By any means."

[Hera]

Hera gave Naberius a grim look and ignored his hand. Instead, she leaned toward Mephis as she began to get out of her chair and spoke in a low unhurried voice, "Looks like you win the bet."

His brow knit in momentary confusion until he recalled their earlier conversation.
"Let me know what favour you need" she added with a smirk and deliberately bumped him with her hip as she turned away from the table. She could almost hear his mind protesting at her obvious insinuation and felt a smug satisfaction at it. Mephis was on the road to corruption and Hera would be more than happy to play her part in leading him further down it.

She knew men like Mephis - men who held to personal ideals, who clung where they could to the moral high ground. It probably helped them sleep at night. They all start out noble and honorable and then reality bashes them over the head a few times, dazing them. Commanders like Tear pull rank and run roughshod over principles they had held since perhaps their early childhood. They use words against them like duty, loyalty, service. All the different shades of gray creep in and mess up life's pretty black and white lines. They chip at the soul, whittling it away in the oddest places until it's a crooked yardstick who's ability for reckoning gets warped and eventually lost. Some men this crushes, but not all of them. She wondered which man Mephis would be.

Hera gave a slight wince as she stepped around Naberius - her leg reminding her of the holes newly poked in it. "Fork" she said unpleasantly to the Reptile, who blinked striped eyes at her.

She moved off to join Tear, avoiding brushing near any of the assembled pseudo-Moffs cloistering around him. Hera was very conscious of the twins presence in the room, they were still very curious over Sasseeri, but Hera would not look their way. Instead, she fixed Tear with a non-expression and waited for him to continue his program of the evening. So far, the night had not been at all like she had anticipated and she found herself growing more intruiged into what this maniac of a Grand Inquisitor was up to.

[Tear]

"Fork." Tear heard Naberius repeat to himself with his forked tongue of rock. The reptile had a disdain for speaking the standard galactic tongue but whenever he encountered a new word he acted the part of a miming bird. The Grand Inquisitor eyed the paths of dried blood that stained lines down Hera's leg.

"Enjoy yourself?" He offered evenly with a tone that didn't mask his lack of genuine concern. The trio had set pace down the corridor with a small assortment of what could be considered an entourage in tow.

"I've been to better." Hera had apparently kept her drink in hand as she left the dining room. She took a sip giving Tear a glance from the corner of her eyes to see if the jab took a piece of his pride. But the Grand Inquisitors eyes were else where, milling over a data pad handed to him by one of the several Inquisitors buzzing in and out of the main back trailing behind them.

"Naberius." Tear turned over his shoulder to the monstrous creature that loomed like an overgrown shadow.

"Our Inquisitors have finished securing the command bridges of the selected defense fleet vessels. No alarms were raised and the boarding crews have cut any non vital communications from the ships." The reptile growled sorely giving his jaw a stretch that looked more of a toothy yawn. "Tel' banar Grol' Ten'ar Lis nar."

"Mmm. Good, with the incoming fleet traffic the Empire looks to be shaping up a parade for our new Empress. We'll make the jump to the rendezvous point during the commotion." Tear gave a look to Hera who might have been feigning interest in her drink as to not seem like she was eaves dropping. Or she might have been genuinely interested in the dark liquor. He could never be too sure what the witch was truly thinking. "Curious?"

"No. Not really." She answered back a little too fast. "Although, for an Imperial, even an Inquisitor, you are doing a lot of sneaking around behind various backs. Is this some sort of coup d'état your planning?"

"It would appear so, wouldn't it?" He held his left hand, currently occupied with a data pad, to his side and like some parasitic fish a nameless Inquisitor came skipping from the pack and took the pad, providing a respectful bow in exchange, before shrinking back in line. "But no, I am not about to wrestle power from our new Empress."

Tear gave his clean shaven chin a thoughtful stroke as he contemplated on where to start his story on why he had returned and more importantly why the Moffs played a part in that return.

"Once upon a time there was a man, lets call him Karl Valten. With Valten there was a Moff, the last of a great hereditary line, we'll call her Miranda Tarkin. Together they conspired to better a crumbling Empire. To do this they made a list of names. These names ranged from criminals masquerading behind Imperial Uniform to men and women of power but with opposing ideals of how this new Empire should be lead." Hera's eyes began to glaze at the Grand Inquisitors theatric story telling.

"What was of interest to me was that some of those names were also on another list, my list. I had begun plans for certain men and women in the Empire long before I became privy to the inclination of the Moff Miranda Tarkin being made Empress. It would only take a matter of weeks as my agents were already securely in place to snatch every name on my list but then something unexpected happened. Once I had begun to cull my targets I found an oddly large number of them seemed to be fleeing toward the core. I soon discovered they were not retreating from me but rather accepting an invitation by another. Like any true Inquisitor Valten sought to burn the corruption swiftly away and had been inviting these problem characters to his judgment.

It was only then when I gave chase and began to close in around Coruscant did the flies in my web inform me of the plot to raise Miranda to the throne. Which by the will of it turned out for the better. I was able to steal away most of the creatures you saw in that dining room tonight while at the same time acquiring several more important pieces."

Tear caught a cold look from Hera at the implied other 'pieces' to his plan but it was true, she was one of those pieces, like it or not.

"The last of which are the seven ships in Coruscants defense fleet that I outlined during dinner but was so rudely interrupted by that fat ingrate Lorbar." The Grand Inquisitor stepped fluidly from the turbolift they had entered just moments before.

"Are those ships ready to depart Naberius? Was anyone alerted?"

The reptile blinked and crooked his neck, quickly recounting his data on that particular situation. "Our men have secured the bridge and command decks on all seven vessels. Five of the captains challenged their authority and sent for recognition of their relievment. Our virus implanted by Inquisitor Rekoj a week ago remains intact and their communications were redirected to our flotilla where they were acknowledged. All ships stand ready on your command."

"Good, it's time for us to leave. Miranda's parade should be beginning we'll leave during the ensuing chaos." Tear turned to the group of following Inquisitors and dismissed them. Just a few feet ahead was a large durasteel blast door. A single button press and the doors slid back almost silently. Inside the room was dark, The Grand Inquisitor stepped inside first, with Naberius giving Hera a look of curiousness as to deem her expression before she saw what was inside. The silhouette of a figure sitting on the sloped stairs stirred at their presence.

Tear stood firm, reaching back to close the blast doors behind him, they locked. "Naberius how is the weapons construction proceeding?"

"We have the materials but the captured Jensaari have slowed in deciphering the glyphs. We need a Sith'ari."

The Grand Inquisitor canted his head giving the silhouette a look of indifference before speaking. "I'm working on that."

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai looked up as the doors slid open and a figure emerged. He noticed one of them as Naberius, the creature that had brought him here. He smirked and stood up, walking toward the figures that now stood in front of the closed door.

He pulled a cigarette from his pack and sparked up the end, the orange light intensifying as he took a deep drag through the filter.

"So how long were you planning on keeping me in here, you fracking lizard?"

That was when the second voice floated across the air and right into Baralai's mind, tunneling through his ears into its core. His hands began to shake and his eye widened as he recognized the voice.

His knuckles pushed against the leather of his gloves, straining the fabric as his hands began to form into fists. The cigarette was no longer dangling from his mouth, but now rested firmly between his teeth as they began to grind together.

The once dark room became illuminated in an instant as Baralai reached in his coat and removed his whip, arcing it above him. The heavy chain lit up in a dazzling display of red fire that danced along it's edge, bathing the room in bright reds and dense blacks that cast Baralai in a shadow of flame. It shot sparks into the air as it crashed down to the floor, the dull thud echoing against the empty walls of the room.

"Well, it seems I've been delivered into the hands of the devil himself."

With a flick of his wrist the whip flew back and snapped forward, and the air around it popped and cracked as the blade pulled itself through the empty space. It came within inches of Tear's face, shedding some light on his figure.

"I need a new tongue, Tear. To replace the one that you took."

The whip danced in front of Baralai as he stepped ever closer to Tear, the rage inside of him building up with every step.

"Perhaps I can take yours as a replacement. Or perhaps it'll make a filling meal."

[Hera]

Well, this was the weirdest little reunion yet.

If Hera thought Tear's initial reappearance to her on the heels of that cryptic invitation from the Message came from someplace out in left field, or that his news that they shared offspring between them was forged from some bizarro alternate universe, then the standing in her present company with the Grand Inqusitor Tear and the long missing Sith apprentice wannabe, Baralai Lotus - whose ultimate fate Hera had occassionally speculated upon - was straight out of "Tales of the Unlikely and Highly Improbable."

Hera had witnessed this scene before -minus Naberius and the crackling whip, of course. Those were new.

The last time she'd seen Lotus, he'd been chained spread-eagle to a torture wall and was spewing out blood and gargled curses as Tear waved Baralai's thick, pink tongue in a pair of pincers back at him. Those were the days.

Hera hung back behind the other two as Baralai advanced, curious as to which technique Tear would take with the frothing Sith in order to manipulate him to his own will. Would it be brute force? That hadn't been too effective in the past, she mused dryly. Or would Tear bring his charm to bear and convince Lotus that he would be his own worst enemy should he not comply to the Inquisitors purpose? She slid a sideways look at Naberius, who stood stock still, his nostrils flaring slightly and his slit-eyes narrowing. The toad doesn't care for the whip it seemed.

Hera thought of the laquered box among her things and the 'keepsake' within it. Yep, weird pretty much covered it.

Tear stood nonplussed and DrenKast marvelled at the man's composure. Baralai was obviously a very different quantity now from their first encounter, any fool Dug could see that, and it would not just be a brash and inexperienced Dark sider that the Inquisitor would now be dealing with, yet Tear appeared not in the least bit concerned.

"..Or perhaps it'll make a filling meal" Baralai touted.

Well, that's just gross, she thought, the mental image being just a little too vivid.

[Tear]

Tsk tsk. Tears tongue clucked off the front of his teeth in disapproval. His hands held firmly at the small of his back as he stood the anchor against the tempest of pent up rage that was Baralai Lotus.

"I might have hoped time would have tempered your recklessness." The Grand Inquisitor shortened Baralai's ever encroaching pace with some steps of his own until the pair stood face to face, mere inches apart. He could see the Siths hands tightened furiously into fists, his chest and arms shaking with the rush of adrenaline that was beginning to flood his system. Cocking his head to the side Tear listened intently beyond the raspy wheeze of Baralais breathing to the flesh beneath as Ouroboros's heart thrummed madly against the bones of his chest cavity.

"Oooo...Is that beating for me?" Tear feigned a shiver of excitement. A rough shove more akin to a bully pushing a kid around the school yard then two trained killers squaring off, Tear sent Baralai stumbling back awkwardly.

"We promised you a chance for vengeance Ouroboros. You will have it." The Inquisitor turned slightly reaching out to Naberius, who in turn took a heavy step forward as he slid the familiar weapon of a Jedi from his robes. The lightsaber, its hilt marked and worn from numerous battles, leapt from the clawed reptiles hand and landed with a smack of flesh against Tears. With a twist the hilt spun over his palm into a reverse grip before igniting with the traditional snap-hiss, displaying a brilliant orange blade. Holding the blade before his body like a shield Tear sunk low into a stance and waited.

There was no stopping this. It had been written long ago when a young Sith was taken and tortured assuring a metamorphosis of cocooned hate. It would harbor and fester within his very soul for years until eventually, like all great afflictions of the darkside, it would give birth to this moment.

"Lets see what you've learned."

[Baralai Lotus]

Rage.

It consumed Baralai. It filled every fiber of his being as he sat on the ground, his palms flat against the cold steel. The orange glow of Tear's saber illuminated his form, displaying the monster in all of his disgusting glory. Here was a man who had clawed his way to the top by stepping on those beneath him.

A man who gave off an aura, a stench, of death. He fed off the pain of others, reveled in it, and Baralai had experienced it first hand. The past few years of his life, Baralai had sought Tear out, wanted nothing more than to have his hands around his throat and hear him gasp for breath. To have him suffer as Baralai had, and to watch the life drain out of his eyes.

Fear.

But even now, as he stared up at the man before him, Baralai couldn't help but question if he was ready for this battle. He had just exhausted himself wiping out the crew of an Imperial Cruiser, and there was no doubt his mind wasn't clear. The drugs were still making their way out of his system, and his thoughts were foggy. He wouldn't be able to foresee Tear's next move in combat.

He had fought hard against Tear once before, amidst the burning wreckage of a transport unit that had been blown to hell by Hera. He wasn't sure then why he did it. Perhaps it was his arrogance, his want to prove that he possessed the power of a God. It had failed him then. There was nothing different now, other than the fact that Baralai was outnumbered, that suggested it would end any differently.

Pride.

But then, he noticed her standing behind him. Hera. The woman that had sat next to him, that had watched him flail against the cold walls of that room as his tongue and eye were pulled from his head.

It wasn't love that overcame him, but a feeling of camaraderie. . .of brotherhood. Not only were the two Sith, but they had experienced something horrific together. They had been witness to the terrors of the Empire and what they were willing to do to get information out of an individual. It was the feeling that soldiers had when they came back from the battlefield.

Even though the two had been scattered from each other years ago, something had brought them back to this room, at this moment. Even now, as long as the two could still stand, then the Sith were legion. They were still a power to be reckoned with in the galaxy, and today would be their glorious revival.

Vengeance.

Today, the beast that had ripped out Baralai's pride, and had broken the will of a young Sith and sent him into hiding, would suffer.

Baralai moved his body quickly, pushing the lower half forward and up. Baralai's shoulders pulled back and he stood tall, his hand raised and energy surged forth, powered by the rage inside of him. It crashed into Tear, throwing him between Naberius and Hera as he collided with the blast doors behind them.

Baralai smiled, for what felt like the first time in ages. He could beat him. He just had to pay attention. Let him talk, let him boast his pride. Baralai had regained his, and as long as he stayed focused he could take the beast down today.

"I've learned much, Tear. Let's see if your old bones can keep up."

His eye lit up in anticipation for Tear's next move as Baralai stood at the ready, preparing himself for the Inquisitor's attacks.

I will not fall. Not today.

[Hera]

Hera wasn't one given to smiling easily, but seeing Tear careen back into the blast doors and Baralai bait him with cheap insults, she was hard-pressed not to be amused. The kid was back, and he was honked. Not that his display of force power would ultimately do him much good - Hera got the distinct impression that Tear was only humoring Lotus, for reasons only the Inquisitor really knew.

Naberius beside her snarled and bristled at her reaction and her grin waned a little. Kill-joy. He obviously was not liking Tear's approach and would gladly rip Lotus into peices if his master would just give the word.
"I used to have a whip," Hera intoned confidentially to the Reptillian "..back in the day." Baralai flicked his wrist and the weapon sparked and snapped in a crackle of flame. "It didn't have fire though. That one's cool, you gotta admit"
Naberius admitted nothing of the sort, only narrowed his scowl further and barely restrained his anger from allowing him to spring forward into violence.

It was a pity Mephis wasn't down here, Hera thought. She would have liked to see his smug smile now in the presence of a force user unleashed. He might not be so bold with his forks and his gungan ear platters. Hera determined to give that young man a lesson in the Darkside the first opportunity she could.

Tear suddenly was beside her - the man was featherlight on his feet - his lightsaber blade humming lowly. He had yet to be raised to anger by Baralai. She could see why Mephis would be enamoured with the man's leadership, Tear had a self-command that was rare among humans and force-user's alike. It would be nice to get inside his head and take a little poke around - side-stepping all the crazy, of course, and see what makes him tick. The idea appealed to Hera but she would have to work harder at regaining such invasive skills in order to attempt such a thing. She decided she would practice on Mephis. Splendid idea.

Baralai swirled the lethal whip, ready for Tear's counter-strike and Hera prudently took a few steps back in anticipation and self-preservation. She noticed Naberius remained right where he was, the big lumox. She hoped he got it, right on the snout.

[Tear]

Blood, like air, swelled from Tears lungs in a great gasp. The impact to his chest smashing the capillaries entwined through the flesh of his breast into pulp. His body contorted through the air from the blast but not entirely unwieldy. Taking advantage of the momentum, Tear kicked out with his feet, managing to land them first against the blast door. The rest of his body followed in similar fashion as if landing from a tall drop. His hands pressed flat against the cold durasteel while his form finished absorbing the impact. Then, recoiling from its withered position, Tear fell into a steep backward somersault to land confidently behind Naberius and the Witch.

Tear had prepared himself for a reprisal from the Sithling. Force users were often egotistical, prideful and if they had delved into the darkside very short tempered. Darth Ourobros, as he had first introduced himself so many years ago, had taken the bait. Although to the Sithlings credit his power had increased since their first encounter. Taking the Grand Inquisitor by surprise with the ferocity of the attack. It was a tactical mistake, but again, most force users held grand egos, and Tear was no exception.
"Hmph. You apparently still have much to learn Ouroboros. You use a weapon of terror not combat."

He watched as Ouroboros reached back, his face bent into a slavering snarl the likes of which only a rancor would dare toy to match. The space around the whip roared. It's fiery tail scorching the very air it passed through leaving a wake of feathery black smoke. It came to the apex of its arc and cracked like a blast from a double barreled slug thrower. Ouroboros with every wrathful inch of his body pulled down. Dragging the point of his blazing weapon, like a spear, to the space of his foe.

It was a fearsome sight Tear could not argue otherwise. The Sithling in his time absent from the Inquisitorious's grasp had festered. From a nubile, boy faced force sensitive, to something scarred and almost monstrous. But that is all it was, a terrible scene. Enough to frighten children into superstition. Enough to muster unknowing dread in the Empires citizens. Maybe even enough to cause a soldiers will to break should he be faced with it. It was not enough, however, to shake Tear's resolve.

Baralai's weapon came whipping forward like the tail of a wild Gharzr (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Gharzr). The muscles in the Grand Inquisitor's back fired in response, bending back to let the weapon pass within inches of his chest and face. The whip cracked loudly instantly being recalled by its user. Baralai had missed, his strike had been too high. Tear watched as the Sithlings shoulders dropped somewhat, his eyes leading to the point where he intended to strike next. The Inquisitor hunched low, twisting his own weapon back into a reverse grip while holding it back and out of sight. Tear was playing off of Baralai's own intentions. Sinking his body down to become the best target. Letting the Sithling think he had prepared for the perfect swing. Then to make sure Ouroboros wouldn't have time to adapt. Tear feigned forward with a great jerk of his torso. The sudden movement purposely startled the Sithling causing him to bolt into preemptive action. Tear could see it, the twist in his ankle, the bend in his hips as the surge of momentum traveled up into his shoulders empowering the swing of Baralai's arm.

The whip crackled like lighting and was almost as fast. Howling through the air at thigh level. Tear barely managed the swift two steps forward he needed. Launching off of the second step and into a shallow side flip. The whip's crimson light reflecting off of the pin striped shirt on the Inquisitors back, passing within inches of the silky fabric. The mid air roll ended just a foot from Ouroboros, leaving the Sith struggling to regain tension on his weapon in time. Tear tossed his blade into the air sending it spiraling in a straight line toward the ceiling. Giving the Inquisitor the second free hand he needed to reach down and clutch Baralai's extended weapon arm at the base of it's downswing. With a twist of his hips, Tear slid next to the Sithlings bent body and rolled across his back, shoulder blades over shoulder blades, landing on the opposite side of his opponent.

"You are telegraphing Ouroboros. Waving that thing around like a wand. Did you learn some magic trick while hiding under the dead skirt of your 'Sith' colleagues? Am I supposed to disappear now?" Tear reached up snatching his falling weapon from the air in time to catch Baralai urgent spin. The plasma lit blades bit angrily into each other for just a moment as the Inquisitor deflected the strike back into the direction it had came. Then, with a free hand, Tear reached out and roughly clutched Baralai's entire face.

Tear moved close, growling his very words into Ouroboros's ear. "I can smell it on you Ouroboros."

As clear as the sweat that flees off your disgusting body. You are a stray." Baralai struggled but the Inquisitor only tightened his grip. "A feral dog with no home. I have backed you into a corner and with the mightiest growl you bare your teeth."

Tear gave a sharp push on the Sithling's face freeing him from his grasp but once again sending him stumbling.

[Sasseeri Reeouurra]

Dinner had been tasty, but bizarre. When the clones had come out, those unnatural things not born under Sanjarra but from tubes and incubators, she'd nearly thrown up. Probably for different reasons than the Moffs, one of whom had thrown up, though very discretely.

She'd tried to use her silverware, but after determining that there wasn't a clone of her trotted in front of everyone, she'd thrown caution to the wind and dug in with both hands. And then Tear had left with a human woman and a Trandoshan, leaving her with two sets of identical eyes peering at her. The twins. The ones that liked to pop in and out of rooms without using doors.

The rest of the meal went by as sort of a blur. Sasseeri answered questions as adroitly as she could, and then she was politely escorted back to her suite and locked in. Politely, of course.

She stripped out of the suit, leaving it in the middle of the floor as she walked to the bed and flopped belly down into its softness. What the frrrell just happened? In the middle of sorting out the days activities in her mind she fell asleep.

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai had been pulling his wrist to try and keep up with Tear as he ducked and dodged around each of his swings. He was making Baralai's effort into a joke. He was mocking him. Tear could have killed him when he grabbed the hilt of his whip, he had been close enough.

But instead he had rolled over Baralai's shoulders, almost playfully. Tear was exerting no more effort than he had too.

The push to the face proved it. Tear saw this as a jest. For him, this was nothing more than a spar. As Baralai stumbled backwards he could feel a wave of doubt wash over him. For a moment, as he toppled backward, the room spun into swirls and the colors slammed into one another.

Baralai stuck his feet hard on the ground and steadied himself. His vision became blurry as he stared at Tear through the unrelenting darkness. The darkness seemed to turn on Baralai, closing in on him and pushing him backwards.

You are a stray.

The words hit Baralai in his chest, slamming against him with the force of a Rancor. They were things he didn't want to believe. He looked at where Hera had once been, but the darkness in the room had made it impossible to see her. She had been a Sith, once, but she hadn't been part of The Order in years.

The Order. Once a powerful source of fear, control and power, it now hung empty on Korriban. It was left there, when they were forced to run from their home. The library burned, the laboratories destroyed, and their pride was left shattered in the very halls that once gave proof to the formidable strength of the Sith.

Baralai was alone. A stray. A knight with no Vassal hanging to the precipices of a past that had destroyed him and caused him to go mad. Were it not for his allegiance to the Sith, Baralai would've walked away with his eye and tongue still in their rightful places.

Instead, his pride and belief in the Sith had brought their own rewards. They had robbed him of his senses, and remade him. They had made Baralai into Ouroboros. They had trained him to be a Sith, but it was Baralai that had ascended to the rank. He saw the reason and control the Sith Empire had once brought to the galaxy and wanted nothing more than to bring it back.

And here Baralai still stood as the last of his kind, ever defiant to defend their place in the universe. He had survived where the others had failed, he had pushed when the others had fallen back to the mundane culture of the Universe. They had descended, while Baralai had only grown stronger and more powerful as a Sith.

The darkness receded, ebbing back and revealing Tear's face. His mouth turned upward in a sick smile as he took a step toward Baralai.

Baralai moved forward, running his thumb along the trigger of the hilt and deactivating his whip.

"There is no peace, there is anger."

Baralai pushed forward with his legs, the anger driving him as he picked up speed, closing the gap between himself and Tear. He wanted to be face to face with the monster.

"There is no fear, there is power."

Baralai's weight shifted and his hip turned, bringing his right fist across Tear's face in a hook and causing him to fall to the left, where Baralai's left hand caught him just below the ribs.

"There is no death, there is immortality."

Baralai's anger erupted in a single blast, coursing throughout his body and exploding through his open palm as it rested firmly against Tear's ribs. Tear flew like a rag doll, toppling and rolling to the other side of the room. Baralai heard him crash to the ground somewhere in the darkness. Although he knew it may not do much damage, it did well to keep space between them.

"There is no weakness."

Baralai threw out his whip and ignited it. The red flame sparked to life and rolled over the chain links of the whip. He stared in the direction Tear had been tossed, waiting for the monster to come charging out of the darkness.

"There is the Dark Side, Tear."

Baralai's fingers squeezed tightly around his whip as he listened for the movement of the Beast in the dark.

[Tear]

How obscene, Tear thought with a hint of amusement playing over his lips. He watched Baralai deactivate his weapon and begin his mad dash forward. It was a blind act, provoked by the Inquisitors carefully aimed tongue. If it was one thing Lord Vader had unintentionally taught Tear in his earlier days, it was that not all fights were won physically. Spoken from the right lips, Dun Möch (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Dun_M%C3%B6ch) could be more maiming then any weapon, and much more subtle. It is no wonder the order of 'Sith' that Ouroboros claims to herald from had been wiped out. Easily goaded, easily deceived and easily bested.

Yes come brother. The Grand Inquisitor's golden saber twirled out from between the pair and deactivated. You can have your taste of vengeance. Tear straightened from his readied stance and simply opened his arms as if to embrace the crazed Sithling.

Baralai's strike connected hard, with a loud slap of flesh, splitting Tear's bottom lip. The second attack compounded the Inquisitors already jarred world. His balance faltered, laying his hands on Baralai's shoulders to try and right himself but in an instant his grip was ripped away. The force that had connected with his ribs on the second strike had suddenly exploded sending the Inquisitor careening through the air to collide with a wall mounted console with shattering effect.

Baralai once again had ignited his weapon of terror. Lashing it about like a nervous animal would it's tail. He expected a reaction of violence, of immediate retaliation, but none came. There was just a sound. The oscillating sound was unfamiliar to everyone in the room at first, something not heard often.

It was laughter, ridiculing and harsh, a voice unaccustomed to the expression. The biting sound echoed from the darkness where the Inquisitor had landed. The lights in that section having burst with destruction of the console and it's following power surge.

Tear crawled on his knees from the shadows and into view. "Ahh... How did that taste then pup?" He gave the deck plating beneath him a gleeful slap before struggling to his feet. A hand tenderly held to the tight pain radiating from his ribs. His lips were spattered with his own blood, a neat trail of it forking down his chin and neck.

The Sithling simply cracked his weapon in response.

"There is no fear, there is anger? You recite broken poetry to me. Is that from your order? Pathetic up starts toiling in the dust of the dead. Children stolen away in someone else's closet to play dress up." Tear slid his tongue along his bottom lip, it was slick with blood. Sucking it back and swelling his cheeks he spat at Baralai, who flinched instinctively to swat it away with his whip in a burst of hissing steam.

"I can feel your fear Ouroboros." The Inquisitor started forward, stopping mere inches short from a whip strike aimed at his throat. "I can follow it's dark and twisting path into your mind." His face twisted with feigned worry. "Where a scared little boy sits huddled, knees to his chest, in a corner with nothing to protect him but his false sense of pride."

Tear bowed forward, mocking the imaginary line that marked the whips reach. Baralai was snarling now, eager to oblige the taunt. His whip wound back, encircling the Sithling's body for momentum, preparing the strike. Bizarrely, Tear's body was mimicking Baralai's, he had reached back with saber hilt in hand and at the same moment threw it forward. But unlike Ouroboros, Tear released his hilt sending the scarred cylinder twirling end over end toward his target. The metallic hilt found home snapping Baralai's head back with the impact point just above his left eyebrow. The resulting recoil reverberated down the Sithlings spine and into his knees causing his footing to falter. The pain had been blinding but only for a moment. Darth Ouroboros opened his eyes to a veil of stinging red dripping into them. The hilt had opened a gash over his forehead. The worst of it came when Baralai realized, after wiping the blood from his eyes, Tear had disappeared.

"Almost." The whisper came from behind. Baralai spun to the sound of a light saber hissing to life. A panicked wave of his whip in an attempt to parry. The flurry of combat that followed was sudden and short lived but in those desperate seconds a beautiful and primal ballet of lethality unfolded. Fate like death, flirted with the Sithling, as the singing song of a saber hum laid searing kisses across his flesh with each near miss. Until finally a mistake. A glancing blow allowed Tear's weapon to sheer into Baralai's right hand.

Baralai screamed, dropping to his knees, his weapon came clattering to the ground some feet away. He clutched the three still sizzling finger stubs of his hand to his chest like a prayer to some unseen god. Looming over him Tear stood with molten eyes of gold. Wispy tendrils of smoke trailed from a thin scorched line across the shirt of the Inquisitors chest, a near miss from moment earlier.

"That strength you call on is not yours Baralai Lotus. I gave it to you several years ago and you paid me for it with your tongue, and your eye." Tear once again deactivate his weapon and cast it to the side. "You are weakness Ouroboros. But like I have before I will drive it from your body and leave you stronger for it."

"All you must do is swear loyalty to me."

[Tear]

And so the devil stood. His shadow stretching long over a single desperate soul. A lone disciple held his hands clutched in prayer, his body shivering, rocking himself soothingly back and forth on his knees.

And from the devil’s blood kissed lips came the contract spoken, “All you must do is swear loyalty to me.”

The room fell silent for a time. The only sound was the slow laboured breathing of the Sith. His form hunched over steepled hands. Not so much in reverence to a god but to the wretched loss of himself. Baralai hissed at the cauterised flesh, that had been his fingers, crunched beneath his touch.

‘He has taken from you again.’ Baralai thought to himself, attempting to bite back and swallow the sense of defeat rising in his throat. ‘How? How has he done this to me again? I am stronger then before. I had been a member of the Order of Sith, survived its destruction, even. Others who had been older, stronger, and more experienced had perished or been lost but not I. That had to be of note. All of the violence, all of the pain and suffering. All of the anger! It had to mean something!’

“It does mean something.” Tear spoke out loud, the solitude of his voice cut through the otherwise silent room. The intrusion of the Inquisitors voice upon his inner thoughts finally raised Baralai’s gaze from his sheared hand. “You’ve squandered the gifts I gave you. The anger and the rage that fuelled your vengeance have been wasted on your petty activities.

You are misused Baralai Lotus and I will set you to new purpose.”

The Sith felt himself choke on Tear’s words. As much as he would like to rebuke them instantly there was a shattering truth to them. His passion was derived from the vengeance he felt. It had driven him furiously through any opposition. His advancements in alchemy and the Sith arts were spurred ahead knowing they would be used against this man and his allies. Any doubts or misleadings were flushed aside in the quest to never be a victim again.

Yet, here he kneeled, at the feet of the man he had sworn to kill. Baralai didn’t look up. Instead his eyes remained fixed on the still sizzling knobs that had been his fingers. The acrid smell of his burning flesh was so pungent it was making his eyes water. ‘It had always been about this moment’, The Sithling thought, his shoulders dropping with an encroaching feeling of calm. His hate, and rage was still present and thick in his body, like an infection, but he no longer sought the cure. Instead he accepted it. The realization that the source of his pain would be unrelenting. That this insatiable need for vengeance could never be stopped, only redirected.

“I am yours.” Baralai surrendered.

“You have always been mine.” Tear replied, reaching down to place a hand on Baralai’s shoulder. “Pain is transforming. Piece by piece I will remake you. You will be my hand, an extension of my will to be wrought on this galaxy. As such, you will no longer require yours.”

Tear’s fingers sunk easily into Baralai’s flesh. The Inquisitor’s durasteel grip pierced through skin, tissue, and muscle, like it was nothing more than warm butter. His hand tightening over the bone. To Baralai’s credit, he made little noise. Only a growing guttural cry the rumbled up from his throat and spit past gritting teeth.

“Scream for me now, brother and be reborn.”

Baralai complied. His scream was quick as was the accompanying action. Tear ripped Baralai’s arm from his torso like one might break bread at supper and with just as much effort. And then there was nothing. The Sith collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood and Tear turned away, wiping his bloodied hands across his vest like a butcher might upon his apron. The arm was tossed to Hera’s feet.

“Another piece for your collection.”

Hera said nothing.

Naberius had crossed the room and knelt down to the dying Sith. His reptilian maw opening to spew forth a stream of flies and maggots. The insects swarmed through the pool of blood and across Baralai’s unconscious body. The insects dug themselves into the wound, stemming the bleeding and knitting the flesh together.

“Will he survive?” Tear asked without turning back.

“He will.” Naberius’s eyes clouded over as his nano-insects fed him information on their work.

“Good.”