Myriad Reckonings

Spoiler

so like we pretty much know for sure palpatine didn't teach Vader everything he knew because if he did Vader would have overthrown him immediately. Just imagine if Vader actually had all that training. He would be actually unstoppable

His nose wrinkled with disgust. He was not accustomed to resigning himself to being afraid.

"He brings a veil of darkness with him wherever he goes. It distorts the force around him. It's blinding. Suffocating." He gritted his teeth slightly and took his staff from his back , turning so he was halfway facing Tarkin. "He has committed atrocities I'm not even sure I can fathom." He pointed his staff towards the door. "With the flick of his wrist." He flicked his weapon in a short slicing motion, as if to decapitate the air in front of him. "No one in their right mind shouldn't fear him; Sith, Jedi, or otherwise."

Not to mention he was the guard dog of the emperor, who was on an entirely different level of mysterious and terrifying.

Spoiler

Except by the power of love!

Interesting. Tarkin watched Sirejj, observing his tension with a measure of understanding. He remembered his first meeting with Vader well; he'd tensed up as well. Sirejj's description of distortion was apt; Tarkin wasn't remotely force-sensitive and he had still felt off-kilter the first time he'd been in a room with the Sith. It was chilling. The feeling had waned as he came to know Vader better, and of course once he realized just who was in the suit it became almost unnoticeable.
"We are fortunate we're on the same side," Tarkin said at last. For the moment. He'd see what they would uncover on Atoa.

Sirejj studied the man before him. Tarkin was still a mystery to him. It gave him confidence that Vader perhaps couldn't see his thoughts. They were certainly hidden well from Sirejj himself. He still wasn't sure if Tarkin would turn on him down the road, but for now they had the same goal. To survive long enough to reach Atoa and uncover what had been long since buried.

"Fortunate indeed."

"You're off the clock until dinner," Tarkin told him. "Calm yourself down. I'll be catching up on some work; if you need anything then find Gideon. And steer clear of Vader. He shouldn't wander, but if he does then you're to keep away.'

"How unfortunate. I was going to try and make friends," he said, his tone hardened by sarcasm. He placed the staff on his back. "Just don't go off and try to get assassinated without me again." He warned, a sly smile crossing his face.

Tarkin paused at the door and looked back at Sirejj, barely suppressing a grin. "I'll do my utmost. Trust that I'll call you if another Phindian drops out of nowhere." Fat chance of that happening. He hoped to have Qiall transported to the ISB as soon as possible.

Sirejj chuckled and headed off towards his room. He would spend some time in meditation. He felt like he could trust Tarkin a bit more now. At least until their mission was completed. Until then they were, like he'd said, on the same side.

A few floors down, Vader lurked.

The conversation with Tarkin had left him ill at ease. There was something hiding behind it, a slippery thing that he couldn't catch hold of no matter how he tried. Some matter that refused to make itself known to him.

Force, how it frustrated him.

Eight years since the disaster on Atoa. Eight years and Tarkin hadn't said a word about it. He was a complex person, Tarkin was, and determined not to appear so. He projected an aura of simple brutality and banal cruelty. The persona left him no room to grieve, no room to laugh quite as readily as he might wish. It seemed Tarkin liked it that way, and Vader was the last person to think of lecturing his friends about healthy feelings. Still, this felt different. Why would he bring it up now of all times? Why was he on the moon where it had all happened?

And the other one, the Nightbrother whom he'd frightened so badly. Now that was an individual whose feelings he could properly sense. The subdued terror had been like dark wine to him, quickening the senses with its richness. That was someone he could manipulate. But again, the question--why would Tarkin want him for himself? He knew the policies about Force-sensitives. They were to be surrendered to Vader or executed. The Nightbrother couldn't be trusted, that much was certain. He would have to interview him once he caught him alone.

Sirejj reached his floor. He pulled the tooth from his pocket again and looked at it. He hoped once they got to Atoa, perhaps the locals could give him some insight. He hoped to learn some of their power. Then he would have a better chance against whatever may come his way, such as the empire or the sith. They had obviously put up enough of a fight to defeat Vader. That was good enough for him.

He would simply avoid the 'dying in the process' part of the equation.

Vader ended up stumping up the stairs, unable to rest. This house carried such heavy emotion in it. It reeked of generations' worth of repressed hate, love, and fear. Tarkin carried much of that with him, but here it was far more potent. The only reason he liked coming here at all was the hunting. It was very little effort for him to chase any of the creatures down, but it was an enjoyable diversion. It flattered him that Tarkin had offered to show him the Carrion.

Sirejj stepped off the stairwell and into the hallway. He walked along slowly, listening to the whispering of the force around him. He wasn't thinking of anything in particular, just filtering through the many voices hiding the walls of the house. So many words in life left unsaid were spoken now. Garoche's were not the only ones.

Vader, for all his agitation, was having trouble blocking out thr same voices. He did not have a conduit like Sirejj did, no memento with which to amplify them, but he could clearly feel the mutterings and sufferings of the people who had lived here. The Governor, himself but a child, was among them. Vader sensed disappointment, a deep sense of right and wrong ingrained in the little boy from birth. His parents had taken advantage of that moral compass, twisted it into something wrong and poisonous. The perfect tool for the Empire, and the Tarkins hadn't even known it yet. He wondered if Tarkin ever looked back on his time here with anger rather than dismissing it as a series of lessons. He knew that if he'd been treated this way--to a certain extent, the Jedi Anakin Skywalker had--he would use it to fuel his fury and never forgive.

Spoiler

Sirejj to vader: I may not be as powerful as you but at least I have some semblance of mental stability

Sirejj, oddly enough, felt at ease in the chaos of the voices. Some of them still seemed to be suffering. Some were angry. But they spoke to him as if they knew he was listening. He was simply present to hear what they'd never been able to say while alive. He accepted their presence, knowing he wouldn't be able to silence them if he wanted to. Perhaps in solving the mystery on Atoa, he may bring at least one of them peace.

Spoiler

Hehe maybe that's Sirejj's superpower

Vader rounded the corner, not really looking where he was going. He was walking just to walk, trying to process all that he was thinking through the jumble of foreign memories and feelings. The presence of Sirejj registered only vaguely in the back of his mind as he tried in vain to push thoughts of Atoa out of his head. Guilt and grief radiated from him in waves; the witch-woman and her disrespect for Padme's memory, the way she had dredged up his pain without hesitation. Manipulative trickster!

And the young admiral, star-struck and in love for the first time in his life. Unaware that he was a puppet, the terror and joy going hand in hand as he spoke of Lady Saro. He had stepped off a precipice before he was ready, so eager was he to sever his ties to the Empire. They were same age, he and Vader, but looking at Garoche's haggard face during their talk, Vader had felt so very much older. What had that boy-man known of war and pain?

Spoiler

he's like "am I the only sane person left in this building or what"

Sirejj's thoughts were suddenly interrupted. The voices became tumultuous and garbled, like static over a commlink. He felt a presence drawing closer and stopped walking, shutting out the murmurs of the walls around him for a moment. He listened.

Footsteps. Heavy footsteps. Not Tarkin's stalking gait, not Gideon's quiet avoiding steps, but heavy boots. He felt a chill again. Vader was closeby. Why was he out and about? Sirejj felt a little pang of fear in his chest, for a moment wondering if he was walking into a trap. There were no shadows for him to hide in where he stood.