Grand Inquisitors Need Sheep. Wolves? Lemmings? Wookies? (INQ)

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

A grey-clad Echani woman sat in an alcove of the Isdihar-i-Timad and hugged her knees. The listlessness of space was the worst hell she could imagine, an all draining void of any possible freedom or action. How could one have freedom in the confines of a little tin box? She craned her head to the side till her neck popped and back the other way until the same pop clicked and Ahani Najwa pushed her forehead onto the chill transparisteel.

A job, she thought. A position which led to the greatest adventures and battles the Galaxy would know laid before her and Ahani couldn't get her boots shined right. How could she become the grand and noble inquisitor with unshined boots? How dare she show up in polite and not so polite company with dirty, filth boots?!

"I remember, Prav'na. I remember." The woman whimpered, bit her lip till she felt the skin welt but the memory stuck firmly in its place. "We were on Byss and I was a child and my father was shining his boots. He was a Crimson Guardsman, have I told you?" Ahani's lilting voice, thick with an accent that no longer existed in the universe-as-it-is-now, utterly failed. Faded away. The 850 year old Echani rolled her neck till her silver eyes peered over at her Handmaiden - an elderly Echani whose face was a mirror of what Ahani's would have looked like if she too had felt age's gentle, prolonged kiss.

"I have told you haven't I?" Ahani's chin wobbled. She put it on her knees, "Daddy shined his boots like a man possessed. His helm, shoulder guards, gauntlets were always in perfect condition. They had to be. He served the Emperor Palpatine himself. He taught me how to iron and clean his robes and cape until they were spotless. My boots aren't spotless. There's a wrinkle on my clothes."

Prav'na continued her silent vigil over the progenitor of her House and pulled Ahani from her alcove to stand in front of a mirror. A brush found its way into Prav'na's hand and the woman braised Ahani's hair back in a tight bun at the start of her neck. Next, the Handmaiden smoothed Ahani's clothes and rubbed her thumbs over Ahani's cheeks and banished the moisture there.

"An Inquisitor is supposed to be grand. I can.. I CAN BE GRAND! WATCH ME old bag!! I'll be Grand! I'll be the Grandest Inquisitor! I'll root out every piece of knowledge and I'll. . . I'll. . . I'll take them all on merry little trips where they join or die until there's no 'they' left 'cause they're all us. I'll do it, too. YOU CAN'T STOP ME! STOP REBUKING ME! STOP IT! STOP IT!!"

Ahani's voice rung empty and hollow in the ship's living quarters. Her chest heaved and she covered her face with her hands. "I'm sorry Prav'na. I didn't mean it. You're a woman not a bag."

Prav'na waited for the rage to blow over with her head lowered and her eyes keen. This was the punishment of her House, where eight centuries past had been overrun with traitors and villains - with this woman who had made enemies of Echani all. This woman, this dreadful broken slip of a woman had brought Thyrsus down to burning cinders. Had married the Betrayer and made House Keth a wicked curse upon the noble houses of the Echani. And now, even now it was to the House Keth to watch over this talented murderess. Prav'na latched Ahani's sword-belt around her waist and affixed the black cape of an officer over one of her shoulders.

She would serve this woman till the day she died. It was her duty, given her by the Redeemer: Ahani's shining son. Ahani stood in front of the mirror and puckered her lips.

"Right. Mustn't be more than fashionably late to my own party. Rabba! Begin docking procedures with the Station! Tehnae! Call my Inquisitors to the coordinates! Mienka! Find me [member="Inkara Liet"]. . . why aren't we docked yet!? I have to say a very prominent hello."

On the Station, a board room was set up for those who would answer the Inquisition's current call.

OOC: OPEN TO INQUISITION PEEPS.

 

[Antera]

[member="Ahani Najwa"]

At first, Antera had sworn it was a glitch. After months of non-use, the Carcosa's holocomm suddenly buzzed to life on secretive channels. The chiss had excused herself, and reviewed the message in private. Once through the various layers of cipher and encryption, it had been simple. A date, a time, a place. Whether it was truly a rallying call to arms or something more sinister was utterly unclear.

She spent the next few days debating her course of action, her training clicking back into place as she went over publicly available information on her destination, planning in the event of a worst case scenario. Escape points. Dead ends. Local law and policy. Anything that could become relevant in an ambush.

When the day did arrive, she went alone. Pistols under her long terentatek coat and vibroblade slung across her back. As heavy boots echoed across the deck of the station, the smuggler Antera vanished more and more with every stride. Her heart rate elevated and an all too familiar, and oddly enough longed for, tinge of paranoia pricked up goosebumps on the back of her neck.

She couldn't help but smile slightly.

Inquisitor Song entered the board room, and waited.

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

"Sing me a Song, and I'll dance till moonlight." Ahani leaned against the table, both palms flat on its surface and grinned like a Nexu at @Antera. "You got my message. . . that's good, 'cause I really didn't feel like playing tag. Child's game. Although I owe you a goddess-darned drink. How's business, honey bee?"

The room was vastly empty but for two of Ahani's Handmaidens, dressed in Imperial uniforms begetting some rank or other that Ahani thought would be clever or some mean joke.

"We're waiting on a couple more, and if they come too slowly I might use them for practice. But, enough about the potential body count, sing to me, sing me a story of your time."

 

[Antera]

Of all the possible permutations of this encounter Song had anticipated, the presence of [member="Ahani Najwa"] was effectively at the bottom of the list. The chiss visibly stiffened for a fraction of a second as she entered the room.

"Inquisitor Gyaumchem. Or, given the situation, I imagine it is Grand Inquisitor now? Your offer is appreciated, but I brought my own," she had a seat at the middle of the table's left side, keeping a bit of distance between herself and the new Grand Inquisitor without being disrespectful. She reached under her coat and produced a small durasteel flask, deftly unscrewing the cap and taking a suddenly much needed swig.

She sat up a little straighter, shoulders squared as she delivered her report, "After the... incident on Atrisia, I maintained my cover identity and went to ground. Given the change in leadership and the potential of leaks to the Fringe Confederation, I found it prudent to leave that sector of the galaxy for a time. I've been operating my ship out of the Outer Rim and building contacts with smugglers and artifact trafficking rings. I suppose I didn't exactly have much other choice, given the circumstances."

"I've been using my abilities more openly, under the pretext of receiving training from a survivor of the Gray Paladin sect. I..." she hesitated for a moment, but ultimately thought full disclosure would add fewer complications to an already complex situation, "I have also taken an apprentice. A young girl. Pacifist. She has strong potential and I thought it best she learn from me rather than other potential sources. I do not believe she is an appropriate candidate for Inquisitorial service, however. Nor a potential threat."

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

"Grand Inquisitor Gyaumchem. . . . beauty of a ring to it, eh?" The room was fairly empty but for her own Handmaidens and [member="Antera"]. The others would come, and as they came Ahani was glad of her time with her Atrisian cohort.

"How about you to be that presence of mine in the Outer Rim? 'Cause my Inquisition can use those eyes of yours. They're a good set. We've got a new regime to follow. It's a good one, it'll last. How do I know? Folks from the Old Country. Real legends that predate your great-grandmom."

The wild eyed Echani sat down and slapped her boots on top of the conference table. "Not the prettiest thing, but I'll trust should you divulge your position in my Inquisition, then she will be also in my hands? That's the rules. I'm making rules. Did'ja th-th-think I could?"

A pacifist. [member="Antera"] had taken a pacifist under her wing. Ahani tapped her fingers on her lips and poured herself a drink with her telekinetic gifts. The cup rustled over and Ahani left it in midair. "How you train your Padawan is up to you, Song. But if your cover is blown, we will be taking little miss Pacifist into the Hand or send her to a place of safety and d-d-don't th-think I'm c-cruel. You know as well as I do other folk like to throw down in an attempt to destroy what goes bump in the night. Being in the Inquisition is being in the ephemera between a planet and its' star. We don't exist.

Our cover lives are sacred. Thank you f-ffor your honesty. I'd pander to nothing less. Y-you c-can give me valuable investments in your neck and I can call you when there's business to be doing."

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Standing before the large double-doors that he had been directed to by the stiff type in Imperial garb down the way, Asterion felt out of place and really awkward, especially in his Knight Armour around the military-based agents of the Empire.

From traversing the galaxy under a Sith Lord, to then leaving to observe a Sith Faction motived by nothing by greed that abused those who followed as simple slaves to a great ordeal to now standing before a door that was leading to the formation of an Empire long thought gone, the Knight didn't know what to expect.

There would be no harm in seeing what the Hand could offer him, and what he could offer them more importantly.

Nothing excited him more than an Empire mirroring the ones he had studied and learnt about under names such as Thrawn, Tarkin, Palpatine, Daala - if this could be one such Empire to reign in wayward planets and crush those who dare oppose an idea that would enforce the greater good for those willing to work together and unify their powers to be something unstoppable, he would be very excited.

Asteron raised his hand and pushed the com-link on the wall beside the doors and it crackled as he did.

"Asterion...um...Sith Knight, here for...observation of the Empire."

He had no idea who or what was beyond the door, or what the hell to say, but he had nothing to lose.


[member="Ahani Najwa"] [member="Antera"]

 

[Isar]

A ball of fur trundled into the room, each tiny step jangling a necklace of bone around the small creature's squat neck. The beady eyed miscreant wore a headdress of some sort, through the top of which poked two round, tufted ears.

Tied to his hip with a crude rope belt were a stone dagger and a thin tube about the length of one of his stubby arms. The primitive warrior came to a halt beside Asterion and glared up at the Grand Inquisitor, puffy features displaying the rage and passion which filled his tiny heart.

He did not appear frightened in the least and indeed upon closer inspection one would find that the necklace of bones he wore were actually human skulls shrunk to infinitesimal proportions. The reed-like tube he carried at his hip also appeared to be fashioned from bone, due to its length and density likely a femur, or in colloquial... a thigh bone.

Several black feathers poked out of his headdress, though from which unfortunate avian he'd plucked them from was impossible to discern.

He stuck his chest out proudly, which was more of a combination of chest and stomach, and pronounced in a squeaky, accented voice, "I, Warok. Inquisitor."

[member="Asterion"] [member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Hearing a soft thudding of footsteps and click-click-click, Asterion tried not to be distracted, but it was hard with...oh no...an Ewok approaching.

Asterion glanced out of the corner of his eyes and tried to ignore the peculiar creature, but it was harder when he stopped and stood beside him. From what he could see, this wasn't just an ordinary Ewok - he looked battle scared, and out for blood.

And then it spoke.

What do you say to an introduction like that? He didn't really want attention from a nightmarish teddy bear.

"That's good. Well done." A feeble smile was offered before turning his attention back to the com on the wall.

Answer the com, for god's sake.


[member="Warok the Defiler"] [member="Ahani Najwa"] [member="Antera"]

 

[Antera]

"As you say, Grand Inquisitor... though I'd hope you'd give me some credit," she tucked a stray strand of hair back behind her ear, "I've had plenty of practice keeping secrets. Take whatever investments you feel necessary, but I'll not give you any reasons to call them due."

She glanced towards the door as the comm beeped, "I suppose we have other guests... I don't feel anything familiar, though. New recruits?"

[member="Asterion"] [member="Warok the Defiler"] [member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

"Credit given. There. Good! Sh-shall we let the others in? Hmm? Yes, m-many are new. Fresh meat we get to tenderize." Ahani threw her hand toward the door and it flung open to reveal [member="Antera"] sitting at the table and the Grand Inquisitor Ahani Najwa herself sitting at the head of the conference table, her metal boots on top. At the entrance was a tall, imposing warrior who smelled like a filled out Sith marauder. The inner Sith Lady in her swept in glee: @Anterion was the perfect imposing figure to mould. That's when she looked down and saw . . . .

"Gentle m-eeeheheheeeeennnnn ooooohhh this is gonna be good." Ahani chuckled softly and glanced over at Inquisitor Song. . . .

There was an Ewok with a tempest problem standing and dedicating himself as Warok. Inquisitor. 'Hey Song, think I can get away with calling him Darth Squeakie?' She projected to Antera.

"Come! G-gr-grab a drink, sit at the table. We have things to discuss. For th-th-those who're brand spanking new, I'm Grand Inquisitor Ahani Najwa. My Codename is Gyaumchem and on mission that is the only thing I will be called other than 'Ma'am', 'Your Ladyship', or 'Darth Gyaumchem'. Got t'earn my first and last names.

Earn them by conducting Inquisition business. So! Let's troll around the circle. Who are you, why I should care, something you're excellent at, and what you hope the Inquisition will do for you. Aaannnd Starting with you. Go!"

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

It had been a long time since she had seen Ahani Najwa. The last time she’d been in the Master’s presence she had only been an acolyte, fresh and new and ready to learn. They’d worked on telekinesis (and sometimes in her dreams she could still feel the singular sensation of poison leeching in to her cheek as Najwa cut her open) and she could confidently say her budding skill had been greatly affected by the Master’s direction. Truly, she owed her something. So when she heard that Najwa, Grand Inquistor, was looking to bolster her ranks Matsu knew she could lend an ever so helpful hand. She came to the meeting on a trial basis – it HAD been quite a long time ago that they’d met and Matsu had risen to Lord. Not only risen, but earned with blood and sweat quite literally. She had no intentions of being tossed around like a recruit but perhaps she was being hasty in her anticipation of the rank and file anyway. She had always been fine with being underestimated – easier to surprise the enemy that way – but it appeared to happen less and less.

She slipped in the room right after the beast of a man and an Ewok, wondering if she knew any of the latter’s relatives. She used to practice mind shards on Endor. It wasn’t the best way to make friends.

Najwa looked much as she remembered, as if no years had passed. There was a gleam of insanity right behind her eyes, the promise of a quick snap and lash, a barely contained giggle brimming at the bottom of her throat – but it was foolish to assume her instability made her useless, weak, or incapable. Her position at the head of the table spoke to that.

Matsu spoke up from behind the man and Ewok in front of her as Najwa finished her speech, a small smile on her face as she stalked (predator, the third and final beast…) around the table to find herself a seat, answering as she moved. “I am Matsu Xiangu. Codename Yaojing, or Raven-head if you’re Gyaumchem. You should care because of what I’m good at – mentalist and sith magic illusions, mind shards, and telekinesis. As far as what the Inquisition will do for me?” She found a seat two down from Najwa, level with the metal boots she had propped up on the table, lowering herself down and crossing her legs. Resting her arms on those of the chair she tilted her head. “Fun.” She wasn't giving herself enough credit. Xiangu was one of the more dedicated creatures when it came to loyalty and work, but...cracking people open was fun.

She grinned, her fangs peeking out. “You look good…your Ladyship.”

[member="Ahani Najwa"] | [member="Antera"] | [member="Asterion"] | [member="Warok the Defiler"]​

 

[Isar]

The tiny defiler nodded curtly at her excellency's command.

"I, Warok, Shaman of Shamans who will rule all forests," he gestured widely with short arms.

"I kill many with poison and mag-ic," he held up a clenched, teensy fist triumphantly.

"Inquis-tor will make strong. Make all much strong, great power," this was punctuated by him pounding his chest repeatedly, then he suddenly raised both hands to the sky and bowed down once, twice.

"Make strong, Lay-dee-ship, make strong!" He repeated this several times, before finally standing still and blinking slowly.

[member="Asterion"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

The door opened and he felt a wave of Force energy as he stepped into the boardroom with the Ewok beside him – he could only imagine the sight that befell those in the room. A well dressed woman with an aura of military around her…and something else… was seated at the head and was full of talk.

There was something erratic about her; the way she accented words, drew out syllables and had a commanding presence to her but also one that seemed to be quite full-on. The Chiss beside her seemed to come across as one who was the more dangerous of the two. But he had been wrong before.

Asterion flicked his eyes quickly right to see another figure seemingly peel from the shadows behind them, a short dark haired girl who didn’t waste time in making her presence known. She was like a serpent, and full of dark energy. He watched her move around the room and take a seat, obviously full of confidence about her ability, but a confidence like that would probably send her to an early grave.

Sighing to himself, Asterion looked back to the one known as “Ma’am” as the little Ewok babbled some staggered introduction. If felt like a classroom of new recruits. Asterion prickled as he stood silently; he wasn’t one to fall back into a class of initiates and bowing and kissing up to a girl known as “Ma’am”.

He had fought for his title of Knight by acting first and questioning later, being loyal and dedicated to a cause that gave him the chance to thrive, and he had seen plenty of dark horrors in his travels and wasn’t about to be saddled in the same pack as a furry Ewok with an attitude problem and a woman with fangs and a lust for dark arts.

Inhaling and keeping his embarrassment away at reporting in like he was a student again, Asterion stepped forward slightly.

”Asterion, Knight of the Sith but serving no Master. I’m the Master of my own destiny. I act first and question later, hopefully with a head in my hands or neck in my grip. I’ll be loyal to an Empire who gives me the tools to do what I need. But, no offence…ma’am…if you want to be addressed as “Ma’am”, “Ladyship” or whatever from now on, then you have to earn that from me also.”

Asterion looked down at the Ewok, over to the fanged lady and then to the cool heads of the boardroom.

“I can be your greatest asset, or your worst enemy. It’s your choice.”


[member="Warok the Defiler"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Ahani Najwa"] [member="Antera"]

 

[Antera]

Amusing but likely counter-productive, she attempted to return the thought to the Grand Inquisitor while touching her mind as shallowly as possible. She listened to the new potential Inquisitors speak their minds in turn, remaining silent until all three had finished. She even managed to remain stony faced through the ewok's entire display.

"Quite the arrogant one you've found here, Gyaumchem," she stated simply after Asterion's proclamation. Song took another, smaller, swig from her flask before it vanished back underneath her duster, "You do understand the Inquisition's business is secrecy and control? Perhaps re-considering your position is in order before we proceed."

She leaned forward slightly, lifting her back away from her chair without standing, "As for myself, you will all know me as Song. I have other names, but, with the obvious exception of the Grand Inquisitor, you will not learn them unless necessary and they will never be spoken in Inquisition business. I am a prior associate of Gyaumchem's, and a veteran of the Inquisition. I was a pilot by trade before I was recruited, and I specialize in acquiring and cataloging objects of interest."

[member="Ahani Najwa"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Warok the Defiler"] [member="Asterion"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

With a small roll of his eyes, Asterion looked away for a second before turning back to look at the Chiss.

”With all due respect, Song, but you’re beginning to bore the hell out of me me.”

He didn’t move from his stance – the Minotaur inside him was ever ready to roar, but he controlled it well and had become far more stable that he had been with his emotion.

”Be advised, I'm mean, nasty and tired. I eat pencil pushers like you for breakfast, and I could blast a round through a womp-rat’s ass at 300 yards without batting an eyelid. So why don't you give a Cadet the speech and spare me the lecture, mutt-face, before I push yours in. Secrecy and control? I’ve taken more life in the shadows than you have and all with great pleasure in the control of a higher Master, so don’t worry about that. ”

He took a sharp breath in and out.

Stay calm…you will find your place.

Arrogant? No, not Asterion. He was just…Asterion.


[member="Antera"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Warok the Defiler"] [member="Ahani Najwa"]

 

[Isar]

Dark, beady eyes stared up at the human male. Warok, standing slightly behind [member="Asterion"] at this point, reached his grubby fingers into a small pouch tied to his rope-belt.

"Ee chee wa maa. T'hesh lurd wermo."

He held his hand up to his face and blew lightly. A fine, powdery substance drifted across the air, though if one had not been looking closely it was almost an imperceptible cloud, and toward the back of the big human male's neck.

This slightly surreptitious act likely escaped the Sith Knight's attention, which was focused on the more powerful people in the room. If it landed on exposed flesh, like the neck, Asterion would experience the pleasures of ground Kabba root, more commonly known as... itching powder.

 

[Ahani Najwa-Zambrano]

"Raven Head! Oh, look Song it's Raven- you never met her. . . Raven you're all grown and tall and powerful! Oh did you come for another taste of my sword or did you come for the adventure, killing and plundering?" Ahani poured Matsu a drink and sent it veering through the air with a telekinetic wave. The drink stayed suspended in air until Matsu would take it, or set it elsewhere.

"Bbbaaaaaahahahahahahahahahahhahahaaaaah-breathe-breeeaaahhheeeeheheheheheheheheheheheheeee" Ahani slapped her thigh as [member="Warok the Defiler"] just kept talking and talking about ruling forests and 'making strong'. Ahani couldn't help it, the mustered forces of her Inquisition was a surly man with gruffness in his knickers, Song, Raven Head (both venerable ladies in their own right), and an Ewok who prophesied.

"Ooooo, bravado. I do love bravado." Her laughter turned to thick, low chuckles. Without even taking her feet off the table, Grand Inquisitor Gyaumchem glanced at [member="Matsu Xiangu"] and @Antera. As Ahani talked, her Force Aura began to fill the room and consume the air around each of those within. The aura was impossibly old, tainted by more battles and war dead than a planet full of bodies, it was the aura of madness and passionate lack of restraint - a pulverizing collection of the weight of centuries battling with 'he who tortured all'. The silver haired slip of a woman, whose laughter still rung in the air was a primeval predator, the chill down one's spine, the redeeming mother who did any thing for her children. And her children were in the Hand. Ageless, immortal vengeance, anger and insanity cloaked her bower and the table shook.

The Boardroom table, solid and metallic began to quake and shudder and bend. Atoms veered off of it, off and away in fear of the woman who sat with boots on the table as it was slowly consumed by her indecent, uncontainable atmosphere. The room had become the casing around a black hole, the miasma around a nebula quaking into quarks.

The table buckled, and tore from its moorings, shrinking down and compressed by the true and effortless sensations of Ahani Najwa's presence. "Ladies, why don't you fill our dear Sith Knight in on who and what I am. Then he can talk to me more accurately. Mustn't leave one of our own in the dark."

Wouldn't that make his blood boil? Ahani's eyes were consumed with black, bits of star fire lanceted from what had once been pupils and irises. Then, with a flick of a switch, Ahani smiled and the world turned right again. "Oh, oh my. Song, Raven-Head. I've forgotten to bring the pencils. Th-th-the Pencils and their pushers are missing. How. . how dr-d-dreadful of me. Sorry, mate. Y-y-ou'll have to thrown your l-lot in with an eight hundred and fifty year old Echani Weapon Specialist and Master of the Sith, a Sith Lady who trained under said Master of the Sith, one of my most loyal friends and an Ewok." Ahani's shoulders rose and fell, she laughed into the back of her hand. The Ewok was up to something clever, and as an Ewok, being clever came to the Inquisitor's notice.

"[member="Asterion"] that is the first time I've been accused of Bureaucracy. But, I can see your point. We're here. In a boardroom. It smells of wasted lives. . . Drink? Our first mission is an intriguing one for those who want to prove themselves to me. Those who don't? Be wary, I may prove myself to you and that is not a sight which can be concluded but from the opposite end of a Bacta Tank. First up: We find a target, and we give them trouble.

I want to know every major player Force User or otherwise who could bring damage to our glorious Empire. I want names, life days, families, favourite foods. . . once the information is compiled, by the lesser life forms and not us. . . we will recruit them.

Or end them. As Song's specialty is the procurement of certain fascinating objects, we shall also be commandeering those materials and artifacts which will empower us, and by proxy our Empire. Yaojing, as you will know her, is an indecently qualified Sith Lady and I am more than happy with handing her a holocron or three and seeing where we can find advantage in the stars. I, on the other foot, am the army. I don't bother with petty duels, although they're a lot of fun. I take planets and I destroy ships, as I have done for centuries. I am here for one reason and one alone: My great-great-great-to-the-nth-granddaughter-in-law is Ashin Varanin, Empress of the Hand. Well, that and [member="Alen Na'Varro"] and I go back eight hundred years and we've seen how you lot have come up with a great deal of mess. It's time to bring order to the Galaxy.

I should know what order looks like, I was raised on Byss. My father was a Crimson Guardsman and I have used saber, and sword and pike. My son is a Master of the Force, my daughter has been dead for seven hundred and fifty years. When you get as old as I do, you get tired of board rooms.

Knight of the Sith Asterion: I am more than willing to throw down with you. As you can tell from the silver hair and beady eyes, I'm an Echani. I'd rather see what skills you bring than watch you sulk beside [member="Warok the Defiler"]. But once we duel, you will be loyal. Give me your best and I shall give you mine. I can respect a man who wants his respect earned.

The Inquisition's other face is simple: where there is disloyalty to the Hand, we will end it. Send their atoms into the nearest star. Questions? Comments? Ideas on who or what to go after first?"

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Matsu took the glass from the air after nodding her head in greeting to Song as the Grand Inquistor pointed her out, recalling the sequence of simultaneous thoughts Najwa had required of her in their lesson. (Focus through the pain and the poison, hold some chairs, spin just one clockwise, spin one other counterclockwise all while holding the rest perfectly still.) She had never been one of those headstrong students, questioning her teachers at every turn – at least, as long as they weren’t stupid. And Najwa was far from stupid. Eight hundred years of existence and the kind of insanity that allowed one to explore things others wouldn’t did that to a woman, she supposed. But she’d taken the lesson at face value and it had come in handy time and time again, most recently in the Republic’s invasion of Alderaan.

The man who called himself Asterion was Epicanthix – Xiangu had pressed outwards and tapped against his mind, found that usual hard steel that was the human subsets’ claim to fame against her. With the sufficient pressure applied she could snap him – especially with so much anger, his rage so strong it practically filled the room – but what would be the point? Najwa’s display was enough on its own, her slick confidence (show, not tell) speaking volumes Matsu didn’t need to add to. Instead she opened her aura in the Force, pooling it in to Najwa’s display and enhancing each facet until its grip on the room was total. It was only Najwa’s voice, only her pulsing grip on the throat of the atmosphere…and Matsu watched the red sheen of the Chiss woman’s eyes in the darkness as sparks flew across a table buckling beneath the control of the vision.

The mood seemed to stabilize after a moment, the Atrisian looking almost bored as she rested her chin on her durasteel claws, lifting her drink to her lips with the other hand and watching the motley gathering. She could understand Asterion’s wish for action and the Inquisition promised it in spades. But by its very nature it also required the capacity for quiet, for patience – for a long game. She was good at both – hence the look of boredom despite feeling nothing of the sort, glad to be back in the Sith Master’s presence and with a potential job to sink her teeth in to - but she had to nod in appreciation for the explanation put forth by the Grand Inquisitor: Matsu would press through the stars to find their allies and crush their enemies, using her control of the mind and magic to the Empire’s advantage. She was a warrior and relished a good fight just as much as the next girl, but she was no Weaponsmaster, no blur of movement that she had known Najwa to be. The Master of the Sith ruled the arena of war and if Xiangu could be set loose next to her, she saw the Inquisition becoming a terrifying frontline of the Empire of the Hand.

But what first? Their allies and enemies were sure to be many, they had a thousand directions to turn in and Matsu was almost dizzy with options, delightful, so much work to do – but then she looked and quirked an eyebrow as the most delicate cloud of dust drifted from the Ewok’s hand.

[member="Ahani Najwa"] | [member="Antera"] | [member="Asterion"] | [member="Warok the Defiler"]​

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Asterion simply stood back, squinting against the shards of metal that twisted before him, sparks flying up like drunk fireflies and flashing conduits shorting from the cables and connections ripped open from the display of Force power in the room.

To add insult to the display there to silence him, his neck bristled and a cold shiver ran down his spine. Bringing up a hand to slap and rub his neck, he felt the prick of a thousand needles stab into his flesh over and over again, dragging his pores up and down and causing him to itch as discreetly as possible.

He turned to glare at the Ewok beside him.

"You better hope...this runs out QUICK. We aren't finished with this."

Returning his gaze to the ladies before him, Asterion pushed onto his neck and felt an uncomfortable sensation turn into a frustrating one quickly.

"As long as I can...-damn that Ewok-...I can be given the tools to use what I have inside to help an Empire, you got me."

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Once we are done, I will happily show you what I have and then we can start to tear apart those standing before us...starting with this guy if he doesn't QUIT."

Another glance to the Ewok said enough.


[member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Ahani Najwa"] [member="Antera"] [member="Warok the Defiler"]

 

[Isar]

The Ewok's pudgy lips pulled back in an ursine smile, revealing itty-bitty incisors which he gnashed menacingly.

"Kra, mookiee."


[member="Asterion"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Ahani Najwa"]