One

The Citadel, Dromund Kaas

13 ATC

Her boots were loud on the polished black floor, each step cracking the foreboding silence of the Citadel. Although she was a slight figure, standing only a few inches above five feet in height, she moved with a confidence befitting the one who held the title of the Emperor's Wrath.

She was Pureblood Sith, with skin the color of burnished copper and dark red hair pulled back severely into a tail behind her head. Her face, marked with the ridges characteristic of her species, had been called beautiful in the past. Now, however, only a few beings dared meet the golden eyes of one of the most powerful Sith Lords in the Empire.

Her name was A'tro. Darth A'tro now, though most only knew her by her title of Wrath. She found that she rather preferred it that way. Reputation was everything for a Sith, and hers was made all the more fearsome by lack of a name.

And so she walked through the dark corridors of the Citadel, occasionally passing red-armored Imperial Guards, who bowed deeply as she passed. She had been on the front lines for almost six months, and it was pleasant to be back on Dromund Kaas, at the heart of the Empire's power. After months of fighting, she was coming home.

When she reached her destination, the entrance to an apartment located about halfway up the Citadel, she was not surprised to see a young human woman in plain black robes waiting outside the door.

A'tro greeted her apprentice with a nod and approached the apartment's keypad, entering in the code to unlock the door.

"Master," Jaesa Willsaam said with a graceful bow. "I've been waiting here, as you requested."

The door slid open with a soft hiss of motors. A'tro stepped inside, gesturing for Jaesa to follow.

The apartment was situated on one edge of the building, and one wall of the antechamber was solid glass, giving a spectacular view of Kaas City and the jungle beyond. It was only mid-afternoon, but the sky was obscured by thick clouds, draping the landscape in darkness. As A'tro watched, droplets of rain began to splash against the window.

"Did you deliver my request to the Ministry of War?" she asked abruptly.

"Yes, Master." A pause. "If I may," Jaesa said carefully, "I mean no disrespect, my lord, but…why me?"

A'tro turned away from the window to face her. "A Sith Lord of my rank does not waste time on errands. You are my apprentice, and as such, you represent my interests in matters that are too trivial for me to address personally."

Jaesa's brows drew together slightly. "I understand, Master."

"If these assignments bore you, I suggest you bear in mind that we all serve the Empire in our own way."

"I thought I served you, my lord."

"Do not get impertinent with me, apprentice. The Empire is the Emperor, and I am his Wrath. You will find it is all very much the same thing."

"I apologize, Master," Jaesa murmured.

At least the Jedi taught her to be respectful, A'tro thought sourly. Sith apprentices tend to need the arrogance beaten out of them. "You'll learn soon enough. It is my intention to remain in the capital for some time. As long as we are here, you must never forget your place in the order of things."

"I'm not sure I understand what that place is," Jaesa admitted. "The Sith are…more complicated than I expected."

"As my apprentice, you are on equal footing with most Sith who bear the title of Lord. Sometimes it will be necessary to remind them of that fact. Be bold, but not overconfident. Understand your own limitations."

"I think I can do that."

"Good." A'tro turned away and started walking towards the door leading to the rest of the apartment. "You may go."

"Where am I supposed to stay?"

"Figure it out." I'll teach her to be self-sufficient if it kills her.

"But I—yes, Master." A strong current of curiosity surfaced in her Force presence, and was quickly suppressed.

A'tro paused and turned around. "Was there something you wanted?"

Jaesa's gaze darted away from her and she bit her lip, something A'tro had come to recognize as a sign of nervousness. "I just wondered why—" She shook her head. "It's none of my business, Master. Forget I said anything."

A subtle chill ran down A'tro's spine and settled in the pit of her stomach, where it quickly turned to a hot ember of anger. "Tell me."

Jaesa visibly steeled herself. "Why did you have Captain Quinn reassigned? I thought the two of you were—worked well together."

"I have my reasons," A'tro said flatly. "And you were right to say that it is no business of yours. That will be all."

"Yes, Master." Jaesa swallowed hard. "I'm sorry I brought it up." She bowed quickly and fled.

A'tro took a deep breath and laced her fingers together, cracking her knuckles one at a time. Outside, there was a distant peal of thunder.

Hopefully, Jaesa's acute perception had failed to detect A'tro's doubts on the matter. The old adage of keep your friends close and your enemies closer kept coming to mind. Whether Quinn was a friend or an enemy, however, was the question that continued to press irksomely at the back of her mind. Or perhaps that was too complicated a way of looking at it, and he was simply a liability. And liabilities had to be removed, no matter the cost.