The Spider and the Storm

"Hm." Vader huffed. Under normal circumstances he might have been amused at the joke. Bullying Krennic was an entertaining pastime when there was little else to do, but in this case, there was far too much on his mind. "It would keep him occupied enough to spare us his constant whining."

"I'll see it done." Tarkin nodded decisively. Vader seemed less responsive than when they'd first begun talking, which concerned him. Had he misstepped in admitting all he knew? He studied his friend as best he could, trying to determine his current demeanor.

"Very good." Vader was keeping his thoughts to himself. There came advantages of being confined behind his mask, and one was that his emotions were easier to hide. His face revealed nothing. His posture, though slightly more tensed than before, betrayed little. "We will see how long it is before Krennic finds something new to complain about."

Tarkin made as if to check the time, one eyebrow raised. "I have no doubt he's already found something. It's a matter of priority, though--once one thing is cleared he'll have another issue ready. And somehow it's our problem as well. Dreadful, absolutely dreadful."

Vader scoffed. "Perhaps he and Thrawn will strangle each other and save us the trouble." He noticed the glance and hoped Tarkin had other things to get to. He was fighting the restlessness and frustration that boiled under his relatively calm exterior.

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Lol he was checking the time for the bit he was doing a bit
Tarkin's sense of humor is too subtle for Vader though I think

"Let's hope not. The paperwork would be horrendous." He was cheered at the thought of it, though. "Well, Vader, this has been pleasant and mostly productive, but I do have business to tend to. Thank you for meeting with me; is there anything else we need to speak about?"

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vader's brain is too preoccupied to pick up on the subtlety he's still internally freaking out

"Not as of now." He sat as still as stone. "I believe we've discussed all that is necessary for now. Your time was appreciated, as always."

Spoiler

Perfect

"And yours." Tarkin dipped his head. "Take care, Vader." He ended the transmission and let out a heavy breath, rubbing his face. That had gone...well? He thought? It was so hard to tell what Vader was thinking and feeling, but his tone had betrayed no anger or distress. How had he himself performed? Of that, he was also unsure. It felt as though he'd been visibly shaky, but Vader would have asked about that, surely. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of his stiff chair, forcing his body to relax itself.

Vader sat quietly as the hologram vanished. It was a moment before he leaned back into his seat, his mind spinning.

Tarkin had betrayed him, that was that. No, perhaps it wasn't as serious as he thought. It was only natural for one to wonder about the loss of their child. Vader would have burned the galaxy to the ground had he been in Tarkin's position. Which brought him to the most concerning part of it all.

He would have done the same. Tarkin's statement both baffled Vader and angered him. Would he? Vader would never forget the looks in the eyes of the two he had crushed beneath the cathedral stones. Did they deserve it? Of course they did. She had desecrated a sacred thing, and he was a traitor. A conspirator. A coward.

And yet, the terror in the young man's eyes. Not so young, for they couldn't have been but a year apart. The heartbreak. The pain. The very things that had more than once rent his own soul into shreds. The conflict he'd buried for some time now resurfaced, and with it a newfound fear of what Tarkin may be planning. His loyalty had been formally unwavering...but he had deliberately lied to him and went behind his back. The trust between them, one of the only people Vader felt secure in calling a friend, had been badly damaged.

Then there was the Treacle. Tarkin may be content with his son's demise, but the boy's mother certainly wouldn't be. It didn't take a force-wielder to sense that they would prove troublesome at one point or another.

Vader clenched his fists. Atoa would need his attention again. There was no telling what secrets were left uncovered there, or if there were any survivors still left. How else would he have found out about it? It would've taken more than interrogating the survivors to reveal the extent of what happened. Then again, how much did he know? What all was shown to him? And how?

He remembered the "bodyguard" Tarkin had shadowing him on Eriadu. The force-wielding Zabrak who had already once faced his inquisitors on Atoa. He was the spy. He was the only way Tarkin could have possibly managed to uncover what he had. If that spoke to his capability, then it was highly unlikely Tarkin had dispatched of him as he'd previously implied. That meant he was still running free with who knows how many secrets in his cowardly hands.

There was a suitable target for his rage. He dialed in another code on the holotransmitter with a trembling hand. It was time to put the Inquisitorius to good use.

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where shall we go now?

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I'm sure he could reach into Vader's mind using that one illusory technique and spot something.
We could always introduce a character as we go!

Thalassa wasted no time getting Sirejj up to snuff. Her tolerance for sloppiness, whether it was presentation or work, was absolutely nil. After setting several appointments for him with her personal tailor and commissioning a wardrobe full of new clothes, she set about showing him the ins and outs of her organization.

The Motti family was the founder of two major companies: Motti Industries and the Treacle. One of these, the former, was a legitimate business venture that turned a profit from the mining and refinement of lommite moss. M.I. also had a number of shell companies and other businesses it had hooked onto, creating a vast and myriad network of allies from which Thalassa Motti, the current head of the family, could draw.

The Treacle functioned in much the same way, but it clung to the underbellies of the cities in which it was based. It had two main areas of profit: under-the-table loans and a rare, highly refined substance known as delia.

Delia was made from a species of tree bark found only on certain marshy planets in the Outer Rim. The sap of this bark was extracted and boiled down into a thick syrup that strongly resembled molasses, hence the name of the mob that first discovered how lucrative the sale of this sap could be. Delia, when refined efficiently, was a highly addictive hallucinogenic sedative that both the Republic and the Empire had blacklisted as one of the most dangerous drugs being sold. Of course, this didn't stop gangs and mobs from profiting off of it. The Treacle, being the first, had the largest customer base but there was more competition every year.

It was with one of these competitors that Thalassa was about to meet, and she had asked for both Zee and Sirejj to be present. This was a new group, the Soobar family from Tatooine. They were a lesser gang who paid tribute to the Hutts, but they'd been going behind their liege lords' backs in recent months in an attempt to breakaway. This had made them unpredictable and, in Thalassa's opinion, somewhat dangerous. As such, she was taking no chances.

Spoiler

just for a moment, just enough to connect his projection to a thread of Vader's reality so it can't help but seem and feel real. but in doing so he will also see so much even if it's just for an instant.

when Sirejj escapes when he sits and thinks about how he saw into vader's head and how he somehow managed to not die and he knows he will never be that lucky again. it's serious now, as if it wasn't before. he saw what Vader did to Saro and then the destruction that followed for her getting into his head.

he's next.

A warm bed, reliable meals, and more than one change of clothing were luxuries Sirejj hadn't been able to depend upon for the majority of his lifetime. Though his default reaction to success was to take it in stride, he couldn't help but take some pride in the fact that he'd scored a position with an organization such as the Treacle. The threat of discovery, arrest, and death, were always on the horizon, but those were much easier to combat when one had the proper resources. He was far from immune from danger here, in fact, one wrong step could land him in deeper trouble than crossing the Empire ever could. But he intended to tread lightly.

Lady Motti - it had taken a conscious effort not to call her Lady Tarkin, as they'd first been introduced - had acted quickly in preparing him for work. She had outfitted him with clothes and supplies and once that was taken care of, educated him on the workings of her business, what part of it he needed to know anyway. She dealt with many dangerous and untrustworthy individuals, something Sirejj was accustomed to. They were to meet with a smaller crime family today and she had felt cautious enough about it to request both Sirejj and Zee to be there. He was interested to see how they handled things. His job was to stand back and look intimidating unless called upon. He had yet to see how Thalassa preferred to deal with tense situations.

His new boots still needed breaking in. The ones he'd worn before were promptly sent into the nearest garbage compactor along with the rest of his stained and ragged clothes. He was dressed primarily in dark grey. His trousers were tailored to allow him freedom of movement and comfort but slim enough to accent his height and athletic build. He wore a similarly dark colored jacket over a long sleeved grey base layer. The jacket was sharp and well made and hung just below his belt. It lacked as many pockets as he was accustomed to but that function was traded for appearance. His face and hands were the only places his black and yellow striped skin was visible, which was his intention. He despised the sleeves, and he despised gloves more, but he had adopted a practice of appearing as nondescript as possible. A difficult thing to do for a Zabrak.

He wore his knives on his belt and his staff forever rested in his right hand as he walked on Thalassa's left hand side as they made their way to one of her large halls where they were to meet this group of Tatooine criminals. He listened to her and Zee, still feeling out his surroundings and this organization itself. He was quieter than he'd been when he and Thalassa had first met.