Young Writers Society

"Memories?" Tarkin had been about to take a drink, but he stopped. "What sorts?" He kept his tone light, but a pang of anxiety ran through him. Just how much of his family's private life was Sirejj now aware of? How many of his own insecurities had he seen, how many arguments between him and Thalassa and Garoche? There were countless grievances between the three of them, playing out across every single home he'd ever owned. What did Sirejj know? Did the tooth show memories from beyond this house? The balcony argument?

Sirejj felt Tarkin shift the slightest bit but didn't change his tone. "Sometimes. Usually they aren't very clear." He glanced at the governor, then down at his mug again. "Again, one must know a person to fully see their path." Every memory and picture helped him better understand who Garoche really was. Tarkin was of little help in that department, for Sirejj felt he saw only what he searched for and nothing past that. There must always be some vulnerability in truly knowing someone or something, and that was a virtue Tarkin did not have.

"Have they helped you piece things together? Is there some secret revelation in these memories?" He took a measured sip, grip tightening on the handle ever so slightly.

"Some." He wasn't sure if explaining things would ease his mind at all. Tarkin may very well not like the information Sirejj came up with. The more Sirejj searched, the more conflict he discovered between Garoche and his father. He had no reason to believe there would be any less down the road. "I am beginning to understand who your son was. That will help me see the picture on Atoa clearer."

"And who was he?" he asked. Again, he kept his tone casual.

"That still remains to be seen." He said quietly. There were portions of his son's history that were still hidden from sight. Perhaps his power wasn't enough to see that far, or perhaps they were dark secrets hidden away that would be difficult to uncover. He didn't have all the answers just yet.

"Hm." He set down his cup. "Let me know what else you find out. I'm going to call Vader now, if the Emperor can spare him."

Sirejj watched him leave and stood there in thought for a moment before taking the spear and heading towards his quarters. He would spend some time in thought and perhaps get some rest. He needed to clear his mind.

Tarkin gave the order to level out the temperature in the freezer, then headed upstairs to clean himself up before calling Vader. Once he had showered and changed, he sat at his desk gazing in silence at his holotranceiver. What he was about to do was one of the riskier choices he could have made. If Vader picked up on any sign of distrust or uncertainty, it would be over. He'd be charged for treason and hung before he could blink. He had to put up barriers. Better yet, he had to convince himself he trusted Vader again. Better to be sincere than lie.

Sirejj shut himself in his room and pondered. He felt uneasy about Vader coming. Even aside from the fact he was a rogue force sensitive in the eyes of the empire, the Atoa situation further complicated things. If Vader was as wrapped up in this mystery as they believed, he may prove a major obstacle to both their mission and their safety. He sat on his bed with his staff in his hands and took a deep breath. He would settle his mind before the Sith arrived and would then be able to use some of his old tricks to get what he wanted. It shouldn't be that hard.

Tarkin keyed in a secure code for the holofeed and sat back to wait, composing himself as he did so. He recalled the times Anakin Skywalker had proven to be a stalwart and at times humorous companion. They had braved the Citadel together the first time they met, bonded over the Jedi issue. Later they had worked to recover Tarkin's corvette, the Carrion Spike, from a band of insurgents. They'd built up trust and rapport that was hard to hold in the Empire. Why should he ruin it with suspicion?
There. Now to stay in that mindset for the duration of this call and Vader's potential visit.

It took some time before anyone answered. It seemed as if his call may go unnoticed, but at the last moment, a signal connected on the other side.

Standing there was Vader, the sound of his respirator immediately distinguishable from the static as the holofeed connected. His faceless appearance gave away no emotion, but even one without the force could feel the room darken when he appeared.

"Governor Tarkin. It has been some time since we last spoke." He wondered why the governor was calling from his home. He'd been under the impression Tarkin had been with his fleet. Eriadu, while vital to the empire, was still in the outer rim and not particularly close to anything. He noticed Tarkin looked to have gone through a fight, which could have been something as simple as a difficult hunt, but he suspected it was more than just that.

"Indeed it has." Tarkin leaned back in his chair, relatively at ease compared to how most people might react. He'd been looking at this death's-head helm for years now; the rattling breaths and unseeing eyes weren't what frightened him. Knowing the man inside the suit helped, he was sure. Picturing the young spitfire he'd known during the Clone Wars made Vader ever so slightly less intimidating. "I have a favor to ask of you, if you can be spared. We've just had an unwelcome visitor near my home--it seems she has orders to kill Thalassa and myself."

Vader's interest seemed to be captured. "I am assuming you have this would-be assassin in questioning?" He cut to the chase.

"Naturally. I saw fit to question her myself first; she's as cooperative as one could possibly be without directly revealing the identity of her client." Tarkin steepled his fingers. "My bodyguard has been some help in determining truths and lies, but I would be grateful if you lended your...expertise."