The war was over. The Sith had won as Sidious had foreseen. The Republic, crushed. The Jedi, exterminated. Well...for the most part. For all his skill, all his Dark Side training, all his perpetual anger, Vader had yet to truly eliminate his one-time compatriots. Sidious still had plans for his right hand enforcer, but he would be remiss in thinking that Vader was the only option.

He traveled alone on this mission, not even allowing his guards to know that he had left the Imperial palace in the first place. He had had dealings with the locals of this world he now landed on, none of which had ended particularly well. One good thing his former apprentice, Count Dooku, had done in his service was to order the massacre of the tribe that had once dwelled here in these caves. He could almost see the battle play out before his eyes as he moved slowly through the barren trees.

Women donned in red, hooded and masked, charging against battle droids. Walking corpses shrieking in mindless abandon as they obeyed the commands given to them by their comrades. Grievous's ill-gotten lightsabers flashing in a swirl of blue and green against twin lines of red. The only female clad in grey, the one in command in this sensory memory, was the one he had come searching for now, the one whom Dooku had mistakenly thought could aid him in overthrowing Sidious. So much rage, so much grief. The residue of her Force signature still lingered, so great had her emotions been on that day.

But those were old feelings. Sidious stepped over and around rusted droid parts and the rotten remains of those warrior women as he touched on the newer ones from the same fallen 'apprentice'. His already-wrinkled nose wrinkled even further. There was still grief and anger (one was never truly purged of either, in his experience), but overlaid on those were...happiness. Contentment. Affection. They sickened him. But they were leading him to where he needed to go.

Burying his disdain beneath determination and single-minded focus, Sidious continued forward. He ignored the art that decorated the walls of the expansive cavern, paid no heed to the visions of witchcraft that played at the edge of his senses. He was here for one purpose, for the one who could keep Vader in line without Sidious's constant watchfulness, the one who would be his rival now moreso than she had been during the war.

The black water ahead called out to him, but not the greater expanse of it. Off to the side and fed by a small channel was a pool of the same water. Ah, there you are. Green mist floated in patches above the lake, drifting lazily in an invisible breeze. Reaching into the Force, the Sith Lord latched onto the presence that was at once dead and not-dead, here and there, resting and restless. A small gesture with his right hand began lifting his precious target from the inky depths. Rather than decay as organic matter did in water, she was remarkably intact, untouched by creatures, time, and nature itself.

He paused when the mist that had been scattered across the water suddenly converged into one mass...directly over the area of his focus. With his left hand, he harnessed the unnatural fog with the Force, surprised when he was met with resistance. Not enough to make him stop, but enough to garner his attention. Maul had spoken of a green haze when Sidious has questioned him about his resurrection by the Nightsister witches. This had to be the same stuff that had breathed new life into the Zabrak, now once more firmly under his control back in the Core. Sidious was unfamiliar with the practices of the Nightsisters and their necromancy, but he was nothing if not...experimental.

A burst of power from his left hand sent the mist below the water's surface to wrap around the solid mass he still held suspended. He forced it into the dead flesh, the organs, the very center of its barely-there Force presence. Good, good. A bit more effort -

A scream resounded in his head, a piercing sound of defiance and anger that made his unseen hold on the body still hidden by the water falter. No you don't. You were mine before, you shall now be again.

The scream went silent when he tapped further into the Dark Side, forcefully bent it to his will until all that was left was a quiet buzzing noise, almost a physical vibration. Still so strong, even in death. Yes, she would prove most useful. Only this time she would be under his direct tutelage rather than the misguided instruction of Dooku. He would shape her into one of his most effective tools, using her for his own gain and to keep his other walking weapons in check.

Sidious's musings halted abruptly when the dark water began to bubble and ripple. Those ripples quickly became waves that soon exploded with preternatural violence. She shot out of the water with a strangled gasp, a shock of white hair adorning her pale head. Sidious maintained his hold on her aura as she scrambled from the pool that had been her grave these past twelve years. While her body had remained relatively unravaged, her burial clothes had not been so lucky. They hung in tatters from her whip-thin frame as she crawled onto solid ground.

Only when her ragged breathing grew less strained did Sidious use the Force to lift her to her feet. Her eyes were wild, unfocused, but she did not attempt to run or attack. Her body shook with the shock of her resurrection and...her rage.

Oh, the hate that flowed from her was magnificent! Not the same kind that had dominated her in her first life; this was directed solely towards him, for ripping her from whatever plane of existence she had been on for nearly two decades. But that wasn't the only difference between then and now: now, he had a far deeper control over her than he'd had over anyone before. Her hate would serve her, and him, well in his service. Like any good Sith, he would teach her to channel that towards the enemies of the Empire, towards her fellow tools. The game was a dangerous one, but such was the way of the Sith. As was the fact that trust was only applicable in the sense that one day the student would kill the Master, or vice versa. He looked forward to seeing if any of his projects (Vader, Maul, the Pau'an he had recruited to a new class of warrior not too long ago, this woman who would join in that rank) would fulfill that long-held destiny.

And this one was most certainly a contender. But not yet Not just yet.

"Asajj Ventress," he rasped proudly. She responded with a hiss and a show of teeth. Sidious simply smiled. "Long have you been thought dead. You have had your respite, but the Sith require your services once again." A tight pinch to her psyche kept her from lunging, forcing her to one knee in a grim parody of a bow. Right now, she was little more than animal instinct, angry at being brought back to life. He would mold her into something more, something obedient yet still able to think creatively where it mattered. She would be a prize indeed. "No longer adrift in the ether of the Force, no longer without a purpose. You shall rejoin the ranks of the Sith in earnest, not have the promise dangled before you as Dooku so cruelly taunted." He ignored her low growl at the name of her former Master. "I name you Inquisitor of the Imperial Order. When I no longer have need of you, I will return you from whence you came. Such will be my kindness to you, but only when you have completed your service. In the meantime, you live at my will.

"Whom do you serve?"

She did not answer straight away, a byproduct of vocal cords long unused to speaking. Just in case, Sidious gave her mind a small twist. Her trembling ceased. Her breath grew even. She kept her head bowed. "I...I s-serve...you...Lord S-Sidious."

And so, Dathomir's lost child became lost once again. Her face hidden from all behind a pointed helmet reminiscent of the hoods of the Nightsisters, her will no longer her own, she wielded yet another lightsaber with a blade the color of fresh blood. Where in her former life she had served the Dark out of pain and grief, now she unwillingly served a man who sought to control the Dark itself. As time passed, he would slowly erase all that had made her Asajj Ventress, save for her strength, her lethal skill, and her passion. Only a husk of the fierce Nightsister would remain, utterly destroyed by Darth Sidious.

And within the Force, her Sisters wept.

I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH FOR WRITING THIS!