Young Writers Society

Tarkin and Thalassa looked at each other. Tarkin raised an eyebrow, and his wife shrugged. He dipped his head.

"I would like to come with you," Tarkin said to Sirejj. "But you said my presence might disturb them further, is that correct?"

"I'm sure you would Governor, but unfortunately I believe that would be unwise. I am certain it would disturb them further." He eyed the both of them. "I know I would not take kindly to anyone who took part in burning my homeworld." This tone was careful and his statement matter of fact, he did not intend this one as a jab. His risky words set him apart from groveling imperial servants, and he intended to maintain that distance.

Tarkin smiled at him then, almost warmly but without showing his teeth. "I can certainly understand that." Sirejj wasn't one to curb his words too much, that was clear. He'd be very interested to see where this dynamic went if he continued to speak his mind like this. He straightened. "Very well, then. Do as you please."

"Carefully," Thalassa added. "Is there anything my husband can provide to help you with this?" Tarkin shot her a glance; he'd been about to ask.

"Yes in fact, the Governor seems to have taken a liking to my weapon. Unfortunately I will need it back." He smiled at Tarkin in return, a very slight amount of triumph in his tone. He could tell the question from his wife had pricked him, and he found that incredibly amusing. He decided he liked the Lady Tarkin for now. She was quick witted.

"Certainly." Tarkin hefted the staff and held it out to Sirejj. "It's an excellent weapon, as I said. I'm sorry to part with it." He'd have it again sooner or later.

Sirejj picked up on that thought and his eyes narrowed slightly. You should have never held it in the first place. He took the staff in his hands and felt again the familiar strength of the magic woven into that weapon. Tarkin would never understand the power of it. His hands carefully examined the handle as if to be sure no harm had come to it.

"In due time I shall return to make contact with the Atoans. Once they feel safe again."

"I would like a hard estimate," Thalassa told him. "How many days will this take? And what is our assurance that you will do what you say? We don't know you."

"I'm simply curious my lady." He smiled, this time showing his teeth and indicating an air of mischief. "I have my own questions for these people. It will not be hard to discover the answers to yours as well. As for time? Give it a few rotations. So long as nothing else happens in that meantime."

"What is it you wish to learn from them for yourself?" Thalassa asked as Tarkin opened his mouth to ask the same question.

"And what is to say you won't turn on us once you've learned what you came for?" he asked instead.

You imperials truly trust no one, do you? He refrained from saying that out loud.

"These people are great wielders of magic, magic mere Force wielders don't understand." He brought up his fist and opened it to reveal a small puff of green smoke. It burst into millions of tiny shimmering particles. The runes on his staff, which had previously been entirely invisible, glowed faintly. "They have studied these things for nearly as long as my people, and since my people are gone, I wish to learn from them." It was slightly more complicated than that, but that would have to do.

"And as for turning on you, why would I want to make myself an imperial target? I don't enjoy the company of most of them." He glanced at Tarkin before looking back at Thalassa.

Tarkin and Thalassa gave no reaction to the little parlor trick. Tarkin had seen far more impressive feats done by Vader and other Sith, and Thalassa was simply hard to stir.

"Let's call this a test run, then," Tarkin said after a healthy pause. "I'll conduct other business here while you work. Keep in touch with me with this." He offered him a comm.

"I'd like to ask more questions if you, Zabrak," Thalassa said swiftly. "Before you boys go running off."

"Of course My Lady." Sirejj said. "Ask away."

"I'd like to know exactly who you are. You're a Dathomirian, a Nightbrother, fine. But what was your upbringing like? What did you do between the start of the Clone wars and now? What are your end goals as a person?"

He raised an eyebrow and was silent for a moment. He did not often dwell on his past.

"I left Dathomir soon after the separatist attack. Since then I have been a wanderer." He relaxed a bit, finding a story he was comfortable with that contained just the right amount of truth. He was not about to spill his entire history, that was of nobody's concern.

"Since my training was incomplete I must find other worlds to learn the ways of magic." His eyes flickered a faint green and he tightened his grip on his staff. He looked distant for a moment. "Perhaps one day we may return to Dathomir."

Thalassa nodded thoughtfully, digesting this information. "Thank you for that," she said at last, and sat back. "I like to know who I'm working with; that will do for now." She turned her attention to Tarkin. "I have several meetings over the next few days; you won't be able to contact me til evening on Phelarion."

"That won't be a problem," Tarkin replied. "We'll be busy for awhile. I'll keep you updated when I can."