Without a word the hologram vanished. He would send his orders of ceasefire to his apprentices individually. He had no more desire to speak with Tarkin.
Sirejj was awake now and had gathered his wits about him. He was still being restrained by the one Inquisitor who felt it necessary to twist his arm into a very uncomfortable position. He was helpless to do anything. He could sense the bloodlust of the three and their uneasiness as their superiors discussed his fate. He could not help himself.
"I do wonder what those two are discussing, don't you?" The three looked at him, as if surprised he had the gall to speak while in his vulnerable position. "I wonder which one of you will be on the chopping block for being so completely disrespectful to your superiors." He felt the grip tighten on his arm, but a moment of pain would be worth it if he could break their focus enough to attempt an escape.
"You're the one who's going to end up without his head." One Inquisitor snarled, drawing himself up to his full height and stepping close enough to Sirejj to glare down at him. He was tall and broad, a perfect brute.
"Not if this Imperial has his way, I've got a feeling he's going to try and spoil your fun." He chuckled. "Imagine working so hard only to have it taken from you and given absolutely no credit whatsoever."
That struck a nerve, and suddenly he found himself shoved against the wall with the hilt of a saber at his throat.
"No one steals from us." The Inquisitor seethed.
"Does all of the empire function on mere threats alone? Your master has not yet given a verdict." He was dancing ever so close to the line that would get him killed.
"When he does, you'll discover that our threats don't do justice to the suffering we can inflict..."
"I suppose you expect me to quiver in my boots?"
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