Young Writers Society

It was the crack of dawn the next morning that Vader arrived. Tarkin, restless and fighting his anxiety about allowing Vader here at such a crucial point in his investigation, had not slept a wink and was sitting out on the balcony with his third cup of coffee in as many hours. Dressed in fairly informal evening garb, he watched the ship as it prepared to land, brow furrowed, then rose and made his way down to the landing bay to greet his Sith counterpart.

Gideon, half-asleep on the couch, stirred as his brother walked by.

"What are you doing up?" he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut as the motion-sensitive lights came on.

"We have a visitor," Tarkin replied. "Don't trouble yourself." Gideon, sighing, sank back into the cushions.

This had better not backfire, Tarkin thought as he stepped outside into the cool, humid night air. He sincerely hoped Sirejj would do his part. If he didn't, both their heads would be mounted above the Emperor's throne.
But that wasn't how he ought to be thinking--not now, not so close to Vader. He forced himself to relax and think of other matters, like the Phindian he had locked in one of the old dog kennels.

Sirejj watched from inside the hangar. He had not yet spoken to Tarkin this morning, being too preoccupied with planning his next moves. The uneasiness was a difficult thing to kill. He was not accustomed to the darkness he felt creeping into his mind, tangling the threads he'd spent many hours of the night straightening out. At one point he'd begun to question this path; if it was still worth it to discover this mystery or if he should escape while he still could.

Coward. His brow furrowed and he felt anger building in his chest. Some weakness in him must be tempting him to flee. No, it was too far to back out now, and if he ran, then he would not only have Tarkin on his heels but the Sith and the entire empire as well. He had no choice but to follow through.

He hesitated for a moment, then stepped from the shadows to follow Tarkin. His staff was secured to his back as always and he was dressed in his newly repaired gear which had been damaged on Atoa. His vest and the rest of his equipment and clothing had been cleaned and he now looked much more like a hired bodyguard than before. Only his boots still carried a few tiny shards of crystal, despite being cleaned thoroughly.

Tarkin glanced at Sirejj. He could practically feel the tension rolling off of him. "Relax yourself," he said quietly. "Lord Vader is not someone you want to meet unprepared. Especially knowing what you know." He turned to face forward, lifting his chin. He was regretting his choice of outfit, how, though he supposed it made even less sense to turn up in full Imperial regalia.

"I am prepared to further our mission as we discussed," he muttered. Despite being slightly irked by Tarkin's words, took a deep breath of the humid night air and relaxed his shoulders. He would be fine. His bravado had gotten him this far.

He stood slightly behind Tarkin and watched as the ship landed. He watched Tarkin carefully, studying him for any sign of emotion but the governor was impermeable at the moment. So long as Tarkin still thought this was a good idea, he would follow along.

The gangplank extended slowly, and four stormtroopers marched down. They saluted Tarkin, then fanned out so two stood on each side of the gangplank. Vader descended moments later, preceeded by his heavy footfalls and rhythmic breathing. He approached Tarkin, stopping a few feet away.

"Welcome back to Eriadu, Lord Vader," Tarkin said with a nod. The Sith was inscrutable as always. "I trust your journey was smooth."

"Governor Tarkin." Vader acknowledged his greeting. "It was indeed." His head turned slowly. "The bodyguard you mentioned?" he asked by way of noting Sirejj.

"A precaution." Tarkin waved a hand dismissively. Vader didn't move for a moment, then said, "This is the Zabrak you ferreted away from my Inquisitors. The Force is strong with him."

"Precisely." Tarkin smiled mirthlessly. "It makes him all the more valuable. He can see threats before they arrive."

"But not the one I'm here to interview, it would seem."

Sirejj didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been what stepped off that starship.

Darth Vader was tall, standing a good head above Sirejj who himself wasn't short. His billowing cape and dark silhouette against the barely visible light on the horizon made him appear even larger. His mask concealed any expression so that the only thing one saw when looking at his face was darkness. Sirejj felt every step of Vader's strike the platform and it seemed as if the very ground trembled beneath his cybernetic boots. His respirations were a sharp contrast to the night sounds of Eriadu and the dull hum of electricity in the docking bay.

Sirejj didn't say a word. He was mostly stone faced, other than his eyes denoting a hint of surprise when Vader approached them. He was conscious of this, but couldn't imagine anyone in their right mind wouldn't have been surprised seeing Lord Vader for the first time.

He dipped his head when Vader's attention brushed over him briefly. The force surrounding Vader felt even colder than the freezer where they'd held the captured phindian. Sirejj felt the chills creep up his arms, but did not move or speak.

"No, I'm afraid not." Tarkin shrugged. "That was my own fault; I should have been more attentive to my surroundings. But come, I don't want to keep you too long." He gestured toward the door. "The servants and droids will see to your meditation chamber."

Vader followed him into the house, casting another glance at Sirejj. "Was the Phindian able to best you?" he asked Tarkin.
"Nearly. The fight was interrupted. I expect I could have gained the upper hand, but it was a close battle."
"Hmm."

Tarkin was pleased; it seemed to be business as usual with the Sith. No sign of suspicion aside from a few lingering looks at Sirejj. That was to be expected, of course. He was Force-sensitive and had already been a target for the Inquisitors. It was only natural Vader would take an interest in him.

Sirejj walked behind Tarkin but beside Vader. He began to adjust to the feeling of Vader's presence. He could not yet interpret anything but darkness surrounding the Sith lord, but he reasoned that with a little more time spent, he would have the chance to better understand the thoughts and actions of Vader. He still did not say a word, preoccupied with studying Vader's every step.

For someone who looked so much like a droid on the exterior, Vader had surprisingly natural movements. His steps were heavy and his breathing was labored, but he appeared to be fit and had no trouble keeping up the pace. He faced forward, making no conversation, but it was clear to any perceptive Force-user that he was scrutinizing Sirejj closely.

Tarkin, for his part, also remained silent. He knew from experience that Vader wasn't one for idle chatter--not around strangers, anyway. Skywalker's sense of humor was certainly intact, but it wasn't something the Sith readily broadcast. This wasn't a time for small talk, either. Vader was here to do a job.

Sirejj kept his thoughts focused on the situation with the phindian. He was not about to let Vader see any information regarding their other goals. He could feel Vader's thoughts testing him, and in return he examined Vader, just with far more caution. He hoped that Vader, who was unfamiliar with his magicks as far as he knew, would have a harder time seeing into his mind.

It was strange; the material making up Vader's suit acted as a sort of shell, but within there was clearly a being who was very in tune with the Force. Outwardly, his Force signature read as somewhat calm and focused on the task at hand, but one only needed to scratch the surface to see that below it was constant turmoil and deep physical and emotional pain. Vader was not a well man.

Tarkin led them through the halls and then back outside to another building separate from the rest of the house. It had housed animals once, a long time ago, but when he assumed his role as the head of the family he had gotten rid of the dogs. They were unnecessary expenses, and it was dangerous to trust any sort of animal.
"We had her in a meat freezer for a few hours," he informed Vader as he opened the door. "But her temperature regulation would have killed her if she'd stayed inside much longer. This seemed an apt temporary solution."

"Undoubtedly." Vader stepped inside.

Sirejj caught brief glimpses of the great disturbance beneath Vader's shroud of darkness. It was enough to enforce his previous understanding of Vader's reputation as a volatile individual. He had no desire to test that assumption.

If Vader hadn't been seething with such raw power, his instability would have made him easy to defeat.

Sirejj began to become curious again as they entered the kennels. He did want to see how Vader handled the prisoner. He'd never seen a Sith interrogation before, though he had heard it was the stuff of nightmares. So long as he wasn't the subject, he was interested in seeing the results.

Tarkin led them through several rows of cages to one on the end. It had a feeding trough and an automatically locking door, as well as a sliding door that led outside. The Phindian assassin whipped around as she noticed their presence, and Tarkin's eyes found scratches on the sliding door.

"I see you don't find your accommodations suitable," he said with a frown. "That's a pity; I'd thought it might be more to your liking."

"You'd get a better view if you put down more straw," she returned, then faltered as Vader came into view. Her color faded a little as the blood left her face, and she clutched her broken hand closer to her.

Sirejj stood back with Tarkin but watched intently.

Vader took no heed to the phindian's snide attitude. He simply stood outside her prison without a word, allowing the full effect of his presence to sink in. It didn't take a force sensitive to feel the coldness when he entered the room.

"So you must be the prisoner Governor Tarkin has informed me of. I hear you have been...less than cooperative." He noticed her damaged hand, the bruises on her face, and scratches from the scuffle in the jungle.

Fear surrounded her, he could feel it. This should not take long.

The Phindian gave no reaction other than to shrink in on herself, unable to look away. Tarkin allowed himself a smile of satisfaction; it was always a pleasure to see sparky prisoners lose their tongues when confronted with the full force of Vader's presence. And his, for that matter--he'd terrified his fair share of hostages with his legacy of blood and scorched bodies. He chanced a peek at Sirejj, trying to gauge his reaction.