rebirth
vltra
Darth Vader's first mistake was allowing the Grand Inquisitor to lead the interrogation over Mustafar.
At first glance, it had been nothing short of the usual master strategy that the Dark Lord came up with. Use the captive as lure, bait the others in, eliminate them all in one fell swoop. But, he'd underestimated the Rebels; they had proven to be more capable than expected, and he put too much faith in the Grand Inquisitor's capacity to take care of them, not to mention the Rebels had the apprentice of Anakin Skywalker as an ally. Caleb Dume and his excuse of a Padawan would not be an issue, but Ahsoka? That was something else altogether. Her power far exceeded those of the two Jedi she aided. It would be an exceptional opportunity if she were captured—secrets could be pried from her mind, the dissidents would be further eradicated, and in the end, perhaps he would finally discover the location of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
But above all else, she needed to die. Ahsoka Tano was a threat to the Empire, as much as the Sith Lord did not want to mention it; if given the opportunity, there was no doubt she would stage a full-scale rebellion, perhaps even backed by Jedi. The thought had crept through Vader's mind since he sensed her presence. It was why he dispatched his secret apprentice, Starkiller, to become one of them. The apprentice would monitor their every move, while an Inquisitor hunted them, and the Sith Lord himself attended to other business. It was an efficient way to keep things under control. A weight lifted from the Dark Lord's shoulders knowing that everything was being done to find them.
Now, he had to clean up the mess that the Grand Inquisitor had left behind. It was a stupid idea to leave him in charge—somehow, the strongest of the bunch had managed to fall at the hands of two untrained Jedi, and if Vader did not find a replacement soon, his following of Darksiders would be consumed by madness. They would murder each other, give in to petty rivalries. Vader had foreseen it.
It was why he stood on the overseer's balcony of Fortress Inquisitorius, alongside the black-robed Sith standing to his left. Even with the hood draped over his Master's head, the Dark Lord spotted a scowled look of disdain. Darth Sidious was not pleased to be here, and rightfully so; had Vader been a little bit more competent in his job, the Emperor would not have had to travel 50,000 lightyears from his throne in the Galactic Center to oversee a pitiful drawn-out sports event. Maintaining a strict, controlled stance with anything relating to the Dark Side or the Force in general came with its advantages, such as having access to these Inquisitors, but it also meant that his direct supervision was required for many of their operations.
Palpatine ambled forwards, tapping his spindly black cane on the ground until he reached the railing. Below stood a dojo, plated in sleek dark-grey durasteel, and decorated with red Imperial banners down its walls, each of which sloped inwards at a seventy degree angle. At the far end of the room were two trapezoidal blast doors, both of which led to the detention level. The Sith Lord's eyes narrowed as he glanced from the doors to the group of Inquisitors amassed below, each standing on top of the grate that could connect or separate two halves of the room. Below them, bubbling in the crevice underneath the grate, was a pool of lava. One wrong move and it was all over. It served its purpose during the gruesome training of Inquisitors and special forces alike; not only did it act as an excellent fear device, it was also an effective hazard that could be employed and controlled.
The gathering consisted of High Inquisitors only—having normal Inquisitors here would be a waste of time and resources, and would ultimately end foully. The High Inquisitors had experience, power, training, and most of all, were less likely to kill each other over trivial differences. In many ways, they had matured away from their successors, and it was evident in the way they stood, presenting themselves to their Sith overlords; each High Inquisitor's back was straight, arms behind their back, and not one showed any discomfort nor fear over being close to the hot liquid mocking them from below, or having been summoned before the two Sith.
Vader's helmet lowered slightly. He remembered the lava, its hot bubbling thickness, the pain that both betrayal and baptism of fire brought, and what came after. He would have his revenge.
At first glance, it had been nothing short of the usual master strategy that the Dark Lord came up with. Use the captive as lure, bait the others in, eliminate them all in one fell swoop. But, he'd underestimated the Rebels; they had proven to be more capable than expected, and he put too much faith in the Grand Inquisitor's capacity to take care of them, not to mention the Rebels had the apprentice of Anakin Skywalker as an ally. Caleb Dume and his excuse of a Padawan would not be an issue, but Ahsoka? That was something else altogether. Her power far exceeded those of the two Jedi she aided. It would be an exceptional opportunity if she were captured—secrets could be pried from her mind, the dissidents would be further eradicated, and in the end, perhaps he would finally discover the location of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
But above all else, she needed to die. Ahsoka Tano was a threat to the Empire, as much as the Sith Lord did not want to mention it; if given the opportunity, there was no doubt she would stage a full-scale rebellion, perhaps even backed by Jedi. The thought had crept through Vader's mind since he sensed her presence. It was why he dispatched his secret apprentice, Starkiller, to become one of them. The apprentice would monitor their every move, while an Inquisitor hunted them, and the Sith Lord himself attended to other business. It was an efficient way to keep things under control. A weight lifted from the Dark Lord's shoulders knowing that everything was being done to find them.
Now, he had to clean up the mess that the Grand Inquisitor had left behind. It was a stupid idea to leave him in charge—somehow, the strongest of the bunch had managed to fall at the hands of two untrained Jedi, and if Vader did not find a replacement soon, his following of Darksiders would be consumed by madness. They would murder each other, give in to petty rivalries. Vader had foreseen it.
It was why he stood on the overseer's balcony of Fortress Inquisitorius, alongside the black-robed Sith standing to his left. Even with the hood draped over his Master's head, the Dark Lord spotted a scowled look of disdain. Darth Sidious was not pleased to be here, and rightfully so; had Vader been a little bit more competent in his job, the Emperor would not have had to travel 50,000 lightyears from his throne in the Galactic Center to oversee a pitiful drawn-out sports event. Maintaining a strict, controlled stance with anything relating to the Dark Side or the Force in general came with its advantages, such as having access to these Inquisitors, but it also meant that his direct supervision was required for many of their operations.
Palpatine ambled forwards, tapping his spindly black cane on the ground until he reached the railing. Below stood a dojo, plated in sleek dark-grey durasteel, and decorated with red Imperial banners down its walls, each of which sloped inwards at a seventy degree angle. At the far end of the room were two trapezoidal blast doors, both of which led to the detention level. The Sith Lord's eyes narrowed as he glanced from the doors to the group of Inquisitors amassed below, each standing on top of the grate that could connect or separate two halves of the room. Below them, bubbling in the crevice underneath the grate, was a pool of lava. One wrong move and it was all over. It served its purpose during the gruesome training of Inquisitors and special forces alike; not only did it act as an excellent fear device, it was also an effective hazard that could be employed and controlled.
The gathering consisted of High Inquisitors only—having normal Inquisitors here would be a waste of time and resources, and would ultimately end foully. The High Inquisitors had experience, power, training, and most of all, were less likely to kill each other over trivial differences. In many ways, they had matured away from their successors, and it was evident in the way they stood, presenting themselves to their Sith overlords; each High Inquisitor's back was straight, arms behind their back, and not one showed any discomfort nor fear over being close to the hot liquid mocking them from below, or having been summoned before the two Sith.
Vader's helmet lowered slightly. He remembered the lava, its hot bubbling thickness, the pain that both betrayal and baptism of fire brought, and what came after. He would have his revenge.
Last edited: