Private The Silver Tower

[Inanna Harth]

Long before she picked up the comm, Inanna rehearsed what she was going to say. She made sure to flatten her accent (which had a tendency to tear through with a vengeance whenever she was anxious or emotional) and repeated the planned phrases until she knew them by heart and could speak them with absolute confidence. When at last she was satisfied, she called the number she had quietly copied from her boss’ private contacts list.

“You have reached Tower Vandiir. Please state your name and your business.”

“Hello, my name is Inanna Hoole,” she replied. “I work for the Office of Imperial Truth. I’m calling on behalf of Moff Aerarii Tithe. Would it be possible for me to arrange a meeting with Councilor Vandiir?”

“One moment.” There was a lengthy pause on the other end. “Councilor Vandiir is not in at the moment. Would you like to make an appointment?”

“Yes, please.”

She heard typing in the background. “How urgent is this matter?”

“Uh, very urgent.”

“May I ask what would be the purpose of the meeting? Councilor Vandiir will want to know, in case he needs to make any preparations beforehand.”

Inanna instinctively clutched the receiver with both hands, but she managed to clamp down on her nerves and keep her voice steady. “It’s a private… a confidential matter. I need to speak to him as soon as possible.”

There was a much longer pause this time. No typing, no whispering. Just silence. Finally, a response. “Your appointment is tomorrow afternoon at eight. It is recommended that you arrive at least fifteen minutes early.”

“Thank y—” Before she could finish, the line went dead.

Putting down her comm, Inanna clutched her head, her eyes widening. Tomorrow?

Chit.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

​

Inanna Hoole of the Office of Imperial Truth. Not a name he would have bothered to remember where it not for two simple facts: She was Shi'ido, curious enough in the service of the Sith Empire on its own, and she had conversed with one of his Changelings before the man went rogue.

If he was being honest, Pygar himself mattered very little to him, but what he had stolen...

... well, let's just say that the Dark Councillor's people were not inclined to give up the search anytime soon.

Whether or not the governmental official had been involved or not was still an open question - he had certainly not been able to find tangible evidence, or she might have found herself dragged out of bed by inquisitorial agents - and so he was eager to observe her reactions.

Even if she was innocent, the very fact that she had his office's number and the audacity to call it was worth a small amount of his time.

"Xesh? If Ms. Hoole has arrived, send her in."

Inanna Harth​

 

[Inanna Harth]

Upon entering Tower Vandiir’s lobby, she was greeted by a Sith Changeling. Inanna avoided looking directly at him for too long, lest she be reminded of Pygar and that strange, paranoid night at Passion.

Thankfully, he was just as eager to speed her along as she was to depart. As soon as she told him who she was, he gestured to the elevator. “The Councilor’s office is on the thirty-ninth floor.”

Before he finished his sentence, the elevator doors were sliding shut behind her. She immediately pressed the button labeled 39 and leaned against the railing, trying to center herself. In what could’ve been a testament to Vandiir’s vanity or merely a thoughtless design choice, the walls inside the lift were mirrored. Four identical women with hair as white as an Arkanian maiden’s surrounded her all the way up to Adrian’s office.

She stared at one of these reflections, studying her face with a furrowed brow, lips slightly parted. Her current form was not the half-naked brunette who had wandered Vandiir’s nightclub, shuffling off her lecherous date and tossing her drink in the face of a desperate man. This pale-haired, ethereal young woman was what she became whenever asked to show her “true self”—and she hoped it would at least partially satisfy the curiosity she had seen in Vandiir's gaze when she briefly caught him looking down at her from the nightclub's mezzanine. She certainly didn't look merely human here. In place of cloth garments, her body was draped with hanging filaments that resembled strands of spider silk heavy with dew, each droplet a moonlit pearl strung on a silver thread. She would meet Vandiir not as a scantily-clad seductress, but as a fanciful creature out of the rarest sort of dreams, wholly alien and barely civilized.

The elevator doors opened. Upon getting out, she found herself standing in a short well-lit hallway that led directly to another, much more ornate door. She hesitated. Vandiir might not recognize her on sight, but she had given her name—he would have read her file. He would know what she was, and he had probably already connected her to the woman who had spoken to Pygar that night. Her role in the Sithspawn’s defection certainly complicated matters. Inanna knew nothing of the data theft, but she had helped him escape and she knew where he was headed, which was dangerous enough. Best not to think about Pygar at all while she was in the Sith’s presence, lest Vandiir be reminded of it and decide to dig into her unprotected mind for more information.

Pushing these thoughts to the back of her mind, she forced herself to walk up to the office door. Nothing could mask the fear she felt or the anxiety that threatened to pin her down like a rare beetle in a display case. Sith never did anything out of kindness or a desire to uphold the dignity of others. She was prepared to offer certain forms of payment in exchange for Vandiir's help, some of them more degrading than others. But given that this was Adrian Vandiir, there was a high likelihood he would dream up the most horrific demands imaginable to bring to the bartering table. If she refused him, perhaps he would throw her out and ignore all future attempts at asking for his assistance. Or worse...

Taking a deep breath, she raised a white-knuckled hand to knock or ring—but the door abruptly opened on its own, startling her. She quickly closed her gaping mouth and dropped into a proper curtsy.

“Councilor Vandiir.”

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

"Ms. Hoole."

Blue eyes - what kind of Sith had blue eyes? - drilling into the pale woman, he gestured to the space before his elevated desk and the single silvery chair at its centre. In combination with the display of ancient Sith artefacts clashing with cold steel walls, it was well-suited to make anyone feel small.

Doubly so a nervous-looking diplomat bold enough to seek the attention of a Dark Councilor.

"Please, have a seat."

Closing the door with a wave of his hand - or rather, signalling for it to be closed with that gesture - he paused to give her the time to gather her thoughts, and become suitably nervous, before continuing. "I trust you have a rather good reason for occupying my time?"

If not, he was sure she could be persuaded to volunteer for some studies - fanciful appearance notwithstanding, he knew for a fact that the true form of a Shi'ido was significantly less appealing to the human eye. No wonder they made such heavy use of their shapeshifting.

Inanna Harth​

 

[Inanna Harth]

Inanna took in the room first, avoiding looking directly at Councilor Vandiir. Sith artifacts (or were they merely strange alien art pieces? She wouldn’t know the difference) served as the only decoration in an otherwise opulent, but weirdly sterile office. The obvious goal of making her feel small and insignificant was achieved. She also felt incredibly out of place, but that wasn’t unusual.

At last her gaze fell on the councilor. His eyes were trained on her, but he also seemed to look right through her.

Her nerves were jumbled together and hot as tangled circuitry. Taking a deep breath, she tried to reach for some of that Jedi serenity that had always eluded her, but her efforts were largely in vain. She could only hold her head high and do what had to be done.

One corner of her mouth turning upward in a grim smirk, she forced herself to hold eye contact as she approached the silver chair. In the darkness of his nightclub, Adrian had seemed like a ghoulish little boy—or as Pygar had described him, a spoiled brat on a power trip. Now that she saw him in proper lighting, she had to admit he wasn’t half as bad as she thought. Certainly looked his age, at least, though he still gave the impression of a demented child-king, especially sitting on a metaphorical dais above her like this. She thought he looked a little like someone else—an old holovid actor, maybe? Someone well before his time. It didn't matter.

As she took a seat, she began to feel an awful lot like a disobedient child who had been sent to the principal’s office. But where the stern schoolmaster would have asked, “Do you know why you’re here?” Adrian asked why she was bothering him. Or rather, why she was occupying his time.

“I need to ask you some questions,” she replied. Her voice came out as much too quiet, so she endeavored to speak louder. “Depending on how you answer, I may also need to ask a favor of you.”

These were the exact words she had spent the previous night rehearsing, yet now that she was here they seemed far less effective, too casual, perhaps even impertinent. She gnawed on her lip and briefly closed her eyes, trying once more to center herself. The Force would not grant her any peace. Instead, behind her eyelids she saw a vision of a little girl sitting alone on a living room floor, staring down at her toys but not playing with them, speaking only when spoken to, and then without looking at the person who was trying to talk to her…

She opened her eyes again, spurred on by the image. She still was far from calm, but her determination had been renewed.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Noting with amusement how readily she was projecting - someone really ought to teach her how to keep her feelings to herself, her mind was best described as the open book to his vault - he reached out ever so subtly, trying to make sense of her jumbled mess of emotions.

Nervousness was understandable, in this case, but there almost seemed to be... something more.

He would be watching this one very closely.

Raising a single trimmed eyebrow at her seemingly rehearsed speech, he waited a few moments then replied in a decidedly neutral tone. "Well?"

Truly, it was a mystery to him why some people requested audiences then seemed to require spurring on at every moment to make their damn request... not that the Shi'ido was the worst he'd seen. Just last week, a promising young doctoral candidate had frozen up entirely upon suddenly coming face to face with a Sith Lord. He had all but had to drag the request for not insignificant funding out of the man.

Inanna Harth​

 

[Inanna Harth]

He was impatient to be done with this meeting. She folded her hands in front of her, recalling the questions.

“In your club, there is a private area called the ‘Red Room’, correct?” She knew the answer had to be yes, but she wanted to make sure he was following her train of thought. “And that room is reserved for the most elite of your patrons, either those guests of great importance and high rank, or those you personally favor.”

Another image crossed her mind, the memory of a pair of identical twins sitting in front of her. The girls each took one of her hands, and with her memories they traveled across space together with the Force, tracing the metaphysical threads which bound all living things together, tracking down one person in particular.

“Dromund Kaas…” One of them, Ivy, had said in a dreamy voice. “A silvery skyscraper pelted by rain… an exclusive nightclub filled with powerful people… a red room…”

“Do you keep records of the guests who visit that area?” Inanna went on. “And if so, does the name ‘Thetis Suzerain’ mean anything to you?”

A vision of a blonde-haired woman kneeling at the feet of a faceless man, terrified. The man jabbed her with lightning, then sent her to the club’s cafarels. He spoke in riddles and made no sense.

“Or someone who goes by the title of ‘Lord of Doubt’?” Inanna asked, her voice growing softer despite her resolve.

She remembered the end of her brief night at Passion, waiting in the rain for a taxi to pick her up and take her far away from the silver spire of Tower Vandiir. She wished she had cornered Vandiir that night and demanded answers. But the circumstances which confronted her then had ultimately diverted her attention elsewhere, and then her duties as a diplomat had taken precedence. She had to put up a front and at least appear to be what she was claiming to be.

What made it worse was that Adrian Vandiir had been right there, standing directly behind her at the bar. Pygar had even mentioned his presence, and Inanna had glanced over her shoulder, looking at him for a few seconds. But the Changeling and his sister had gotten in the way, had pushed her into a corner and left her vulnerable, afraid for her precarious position and her life...

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

"Yes and no." Leaning forward on his desk, his eyes continued to drill into her even as he felt the thoughts and feelings flowing from her. "The Red Room is reserved for Sith... and even if I had such records, it seems a breach of confidence to share them, no?"

She wondered if he had the barest minimum of records? Hah, he recorded everything about anyone, information which went right to his creations.

Privacy was hard-earned in the Sith Empire, doubly so in his domain, where the walls were always listening.

Narrowing his eyes slightly at the mentioned title, he waited a long moment before responding. This would be much easier if she wasn't so damnably scatterbrained, thoughts leaping in every direction in pursuit of new trails of thought.

"You come seeking a Sith Lord, do you? Why?" Not just any Sith Lord either, one with ties to the very same organisation he now presided over, at least on paper. In reality, its various cliques and coalitions largely did their own thing, though not to the point where he was not familiar with the Lord of Doubt... less so his agent, or whatever she was, though he had heard of her.

Inanna Harth​

 

[Inanna Harth]

The mind of an alien can appear incomprehensible to a human, full of unfamiliar twists and eddies, strange patterns of thought and ways of thinking. If Inanna hadn’t already guessed that he was probing her brain, his growing frustration and bewilderment at the messy contents he found open before him would have told her everything by now. She was jerking his chain, dragging him along with her through a labyrinth of emotion-stained memories.

His words hinted that he knew too much already. But she had come this far and couldn’t turn back now.

“I can’t imagine someone as interesting as you would have only Sith as friends and guests,” she replied, though it didn't quite sound like a compliment. “And if you do only keep Sith as company, then you must keep meticulous records out of necessity.”

Her scattered thoughts took an abrupt hard left when he asked her why she was looking for a Sith Lord. She returned to the pitiful little girl staring dully at nothing. But this time the associations went further than that, hitting buried, prickly, painful parts of Inanna’s psyche.

She broke eye contact with him, looking down at her hands in her lap. Not because she was intimidated, but because she didn’t want him to see it, and didn’t think he wanted to feel it either. Still, her attempt at hiding it wasn’t very good—she had great trouble controlling how much she projected outward.

But she did tell him the truth.

“Thetis Suzerain abducted, abused, and experimented on the daughter of a friend of mine,” she replied at last. “I’ve found evidence that she acted on orders from this ‘Lord of Doubt’. The girl was only six when this occurred. Needless to say, I have been seeking justice on her behalf.”

She did have some idea of why the Sith Lord had done this, but she was endeavoring to withhold that information for now. She wanted to see how Vandiir would react. So far she had heard many things about him, but she had not heard of him harming children. Most humans found the mere idea repellent.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Eyes unblinking, a smirk crossed his features even as he moved to reply. "The Red Room is for Sith - and a select few guests - only, the rest of the club, including spacious private quarters, are open to anyone of sufficient status... unless I happen to dislike them."

"... and keeping such records does seem prudent, doesn't it?"

Waiting as she gathered herself, he frowned. Difficult as it was, he was beginning to make some sense of her scattered thoughts.

"How unfortunate... yet entirely legal, assuming she was not a Citizen of the Sith Empire, at the time." In saying that, the Sith Lord made no attempt whatsoever to hide the distaste in his voice. There was the numerous moral issues with such a practice for one and the fact that the Sith Empire would struggle to present itself as an agent of stability while such laws remained in place.

"Out of curiosity, what was the purpose of these decidedly distasteful experiments?"

Inanna Harth​

 

[Inanna Harth]

His excuse-making infuriated her, but it was clear he did not approve of such methods. She had feared worse and expected little from him.

“To artificially mimic Force sensitivity,” she replied. “The girl did not have the Force, and neither did her parents. Now she does. I don’t know how it was done, I only saw the results.”

She did not allow herself to visually remember the carnage, but her mind conjured up the overpowering smell of blood nonetheless. Yes, she had seen the results.

“Her powers are unstable,” she continued, her tone subdued. “Aside from the trauma she experienced, she is too young to properly control her new abilities. If she had been an adult, it would have broken her mind.”

She sighed. “As for why she was singled out for these experiments… Her father was part of a similar project many years ago, before she was born. It had the same goal, and I assume it used the same methods. But he left before it reached a satisfactory conclusion, because he became convinced that what they were doing was not only unethical, but dangerous."

With a haunted look in his eyes, he had told her of his deepest fear—that his work had contributed to one of the worst tragedies in recent history. The definitive cause of the Netherworld Crisis was unknown, but theories abounded, and one of the more popular ones claimed it was due to a sharp rise in the number of Force sensitives active in the galaxy. Perhaps it was really the influx of individuals who were made to have powers, not born with them, and the Crisis was simply a cosmic reaction to the excesses of power, a way of maintaining the increasingly fragile equilibrium.

But the Sith did not care about balance or the will of the Force. Inanna knew Vandiir would try to take advantage as soon as she got him involved, but she needed his help, and if any Sith was going to have this kind of power, clearly he was the lesser of two evils. For now, anyway.

"Either the Lord of Doubt holds a grudge against him for his abandonment of the project, or he wanted to send a message—to show him how far they had come, how much progress had been made since he left.”

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

Perking up ever so slightly at her reply, his mind whirled. He had not been told that one amongst Primyn's members had succeeded in such an endeavour, though he was well aware that more than one was pursuing such avenues of research.

Not that there weren't already ways of altering one's Force Sensitivity, such as Midi-Synth and Dark Rituals, but it was still quite the feat.

"How curious. I would suggest you bring the girl to me to that I might see about stabilising her connection, perhaps through some creative Alchemy..." A wry smile played across his features, though his tone was serious. "... but something tells me her father, whoever he is, is unlikely to trust her to another Sith."

A shame, for he was convinced that he had the potential to both help the child and learn something from the process.

"I must say, this is a rather unique mixture of concerning and intriguing. I was not aware of such a project - certainly not one with such methods and subjects - but I will be sure to examine it closely. Both as a man..." Eyes turning glacial, his displeasure at having been kept in the dark about such a project was evident. "... and as the Pyramid of Scientific Advancement."

Inanna Harth​

 

[Inanna Harth]

Vandiir was now in an extraordinarily good mood. His excitement was palpable despite his attempts at cool stoicism, his thoughts racing just below the surface of his otherwise impenetrable mind.

"How curious. I would suggest you bring the girl to me to that I might see about stabilising her connection, perhaps through some creative Alchemy..."

Before he finished talking, Inanna stood up and slowly approached him, cautiously ascending the dais. Obviously she had no intention of attacking him—she simply wanted to close the distance, and took his sudden elation as a good opportunity to do so.

"... but something tells me her father, whoever he is, is unlikely to trust her to another Sith."

“You’re right. He won’t send her to you,” she replied. “And as for the girl, it isn’t the connection that’s the problem—it’s the sheer scope of power placed in the hands of a young child that presents the greater problem. She can maim or kill at will when angered or threatened. How old were you when you discovered you had the Force? Imagine that at that same age, you possessed the power of a Sith Lord, but with no training to guide you. A momentary whim would become reality whether you truly wanted it to be or not.”

"I must say, this is a rather unique mixture of concerning and intriguing. I was not aware of such a project - certainly not one with such methods and subjects - but I will be sure to examine it closely. Both as a man... and as the Pyramid of Scientific Advancement."

She felt his gaze following her as she circled around and perched on the edge of his desk, now looking down at him rather than up. The closer proximity also meant she had a better view of him than ever before.

Adrian Vandiir was not physically imposing in the slightest, having a slender frame and undeveloped physique. Probably he relied almost exclusively on the Force in a fight. He was currently dressed like an evil art critic, albeit a dizzyingly handsome one. The icy blue eyes he used so effectively to intimidate others were softened by the subtle presence of long, dark eyelashes. Not that he had ever batted them at anyone, mind you, but they were there, framing every chilling stare he aimed at people, vaguely hinting at a gentler, more vulnerable side to his personality that was just waiting to be dredged up from the murky depths—assuming that hidden side really did exist and wasn’t just deceptive charm. Still, the suggestion was there, and that was probably enough for most women.

But back to the matter at hand.

“Councilor,” she began, by now far less nervous than she had been when she first walked into his office. “Come back down to earth with me, please. You still haven’t given me a proper answer. Do you know who the Lord of Doubt is, and do you have the records that would prove he visited your Red Room with Thetis Suzerain? Security footage, even? Things which can be used as evidence?”

The twins’ vision had shown what occurred in the Red Room on the night the two of them were there, but the Lord of Doubt had ensured that they couldn’t see his face and couldn’t hear the conversation that preceded it clearly. He seemed to enjoy toying with the perception of others.

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

A single trimmed eyebrow rose as she approached his desk... and further still as she explained the nature of the girl's condition.

"Fourteen, actually - and I did kill, albeit in self-defence." Waving off the comment as unimportant, his attention was clearly elsewhere, silence hanging in the air as he silently communicated with something... and then the hologram of a decimated city block was projected above the desk. "The Order's records have comparable cases, you know. The important part is that the power be harnessed, made to obey its wielder..."

Another image, this one of a frontier town empty of life - no plants, no animals, no people, only ash. "... or else disaster is inevitable."

Alas, other matters were also brought up - related matters, or else he would have been inclined to dismiss them outright.

Smiling coldly at the woman's recent burst of impudence, the air seemed to briefly quiver, though he made no move to criticise her behaviour. "To know, truly know, the Lord of Doubt is not such a simple matter, Inanna. But yes, he and I are acquainted, in a way."

"Something tells me Ms. Suzerain is much less slippery, however... but the question remains, why should I give you information on my fellow Sith?"

Inanna Harth​

 

[Inanna Harth]

Fourteen? He’d been more than twice Miri’s age, and certainly average for a natural-born Force user. She made no comment.

Inanna glanced at the images he conjured up on the screen. Poor kids. And of course the Sith snatched them up as soon as they demonstrated their power, regardless of the tragedy they left in their wake...

She wanted to see footage of the Lord of Doubt and Thetis in the Red Room projected in place of these visions of destruction before this meeting was over. But Vandiir was, naturally, asking for more before he had even proven that he could give her what she needed. The subtle shift in the atmosphere around them and his careless use of her first name didn’t go unnoticed. Now was the critical time. She had come to the table with her handful of chips to bargain with, and she had to take her first gamble.

“Councilor Vandiir—” Breaking off, she abruptly moved from sitting on his desk to kneeling at his feet in one swift fluid motion, dropping all the braces of formality and dignity. Resting her hands on his knees, she looked up at him and spoke in almost a whisper.

“If you help me stop him, I will do anything, Adrian. Anything.”

She knew about Ingrid L’lerim. Everyone in both Empires knew by now. She had also heard about Cara, the sadistic Zeltron he kept as an assistant and occasional concubine, and his regular trips to the brothels of Zeltros. Pygar has been quite forthcoming about his former master’s lechery, and gossip about his orgies with every species imaginable was part and parcel of the daily office room fare. Vandiir made little attempt to hide his wild promiscuity, nor did he seem committed to anything resembling monogamy even with his more "serious" relationships. It was possible that he was the sort of man who, having glutted himself regularly, could no longer be lured by seduction, but there was always a chance. And she sorely doubted he’d ever been with a Shi’ido before—curiosity alone might tip the scales in her favor.

Her hands started to cautiously slide up his thighs, though she waited to see how he would react to her touch before going any further than that.

“You’ve said you’re interested in this matter from the perspective of a scientist as well as a man…” she murmured, meeting his gaze again. Her eyes were black as inkwells, the absence of color startling in the whiteness of her face. “...I only want justice, and to protect any other children from being harmed. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain from helping me bring him down. But if you want more...”

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

“If you help me stop him, I will do anything, Adrian. Anything.”

He had to admit, that was unexpected - looking down at the Shi'ido as she knelt before him, hands sliding up his thigh, he paused for a moment, as if to let her think her plot was working. Smile widening, his voice was soft, his hand reaching down for her...

"Anything?"

... before grasping her chin and forcing her to look him directly in the eye, his own blue ones turning brighter, somehow, as they met her black. "Tell me what Pygar did with what he stole from me, then."

It was a bit of a gamble, for he did not truly know whether she had aided the Changeling in his little scheme or not, but even in the worst-case scenario all he would do is aggressively question an innocent, but ultimately uninfluential, diplomatic functionary.

Either way, he would know soon enough - the woman really needed to learn how to keep her thoughts to herself.

Inanna Harth​

 

[Inanna Harth]

Shock and bewilderment poured into the Force. It was written all over Inanna’s face as well. She blinked and shook her head as much as she could while he still held her chin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He only wanted to leave… but he had nowhere to go. I told him about a place he could call home.”

She couldn’t prevent Vandiir from seeing her thoughts now that he was deliberately searching for more information. Yes, she had helped Pygar escape. She didn’t want to get involved, but Faya, the other Changeling whom Pygar had once called his sister, had pushed her into it as part of some bizarre plot to gain her creator’s affection by getting rid of the traitor among them. She recalled the sight of the two Changelings standing in the rain outside the club. Poor boy. Poor girl. She had pitied them. Regardless, Inanna knew nothing about the stolen data or what Pygar had done with it.

“If he stole something from you… I wish he hadn’t done that.” It was all that she could say, given the circumstances. If Pygar had ruined her chances here, then she regretted ever lifting a finger to help him.

She couldn’t break eye contact until Vandiir let her go, but her mind was still her own. He had not seized control of her. He was only peering inside.

“Your hands are cold,” she murmured. Slowly she reached up and closed her fingers around his, keeping her grip gentle and relaxed. Her palms were warm. “Is that really all you want from me in return?”

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

There it was, the truth as plain as day; she had aided in his escape and Faya, of all people, had been involved. She had always been oh-so-good at hiding her thoughts, quite unlike the woman before him... and it certainly hadn't hurt that her loyalty remained with him.

He would deal with her and her misguided schemes later, but for now the important part that Inanna was guilty, but not of the data's theft.

If he was entirely honest, the recovery of what had been stolen from him would be more than sufficient to share the footage she wanted... and yet she did not know that; quite the contrary, she reeked of desperation, her single-minded focus giving him the impression that he could ask for much, much more, especially if the request was phrased correctly. Made to seem as if he was doing her a favour.

"It is a starting point..." Making no attempt to dissuade her approaches, he nonetheless focused firstly on the matters of greater importance. "... I sent a small team to Lao-mon, you know. They never returned. As it stands, I am inclined to refer the matter to the Saaraishash, perhaps Lord Inquisitor Adriana Fortemps herself. He stole state secrets too and the Sith Empire is not known for its happy-go-lucky approach to such matters."

She was, he was sure, quite able to figure out the obvious implications.

Inanna Harth​

 

[Inanna Harth]

“...I sent a small team to Lao-mon, you know. They never returned. As it stands, I am inclined to refer the matter to the Saaraishash, perhaps Lord Inquisitor Jorryn Fordyce herself. He stole state secrets too and the Sith Empire is not known for its happy-go-lucky approach to such matters.”

Inanna’s hands closed around Adrian’s wrists as he spoke, her grip as tight as shackles, clenching so hard that her arms shook from the strain. But it lasted mere moments before she forced herself to release him.

“I sent him to stay with my family. My parents…” Her accent came through, slurring her words. She didn’t have the will to hide it anymore. “You sent your team to my home.”

Her gut told her that they weren’t dead. Her father had the Force, like her—she would’ve felt his death. If they had gotten her mother or anyone else, the survivors would’ve found a way to contact her… assuming there were any survivors. But if Vandiir’s small team never returned, it was more likely that the Inquisitors had been dealt with in typical Hoole family fashion.

In any case, it was time for another gamble. She had no choice now but to continue, to assume that there was hope. Her fingers rested on top of Adrian’s, her touch feather-light, before she leaned forward.

“Don’t send anyone else,” she pleaded. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her chin against his chest and looked up at him. “Let me go to Pygar. I'll convince him to give me what was stolen, and I'll return it to you myself.”

AMCO

 

[AMCO]

If she had not been so distracted by his comment, the Shi'ido might have noticed how his flesh seemed to harden in response to the pressure she exerted; even distracted as she was, her Force Sensitive nature might allow her to sense the power boiling just beneath the surface...

... as if waiting to be unleashed at a moment's notice, should she be mad enough to attack him.

She sent him to her family? What kind of madwoman was she, or did she somehow equate distance to invincibility? No matter, for now he was content simply to let her finish her trail of thought, pointing out her illogical risks would serve no purpose at this junction.

Clicking his tongue, Adrian took a moment to consider her proposition, seemingly ignoring her rather intimate antics.

"You have one chance, use it well. The data he stole from me has certain countermeasures against replication... but they are not foolproof. It will be recovered or it will be destroyed, I'm afraid I can tolerate nothing else. Not this time." Smiling softly, he eyed her as she leaned against his chest. "But that, I feel, is more repayment for helping steal it in the first place. As for the footage... I'm sure we can come up with something."

Inanna Harth​