PAGE ONE

ALL AROUND WAS A BLANKETING DARKNESS, A DEAFENING SILENCE.

"Again." The cold and unfeeling voice of the Inquisitor pierced through once more, echoing confusingly about the enormous room.

In the center of the chamber, still and blind in the shadows, stood the Pau'an's apprentice. The teenaged human male breathed in deeply, then exhaled and pulled the trigger of the blaster he grasped in one hand.

The gloom was briefly illuminated by the electric pulse.

Then, to the apprentice's satisfaction, he heard another faint grunt resound throughout the room.

There was another moment of the silence, so thick that the boy could hear it, taste it, feel it.

And then the Inquisitor spoke. His frosty and clear words rang repetitively in his apprentice's ears.

"Master. Turn on the lights, if you will."

Prosthetic white light promptly flooded the chamber. The raven-haired Sith apprentice blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, then stared across the room. At the farthest wall facing him, by the door, stood his master- and beside his master stood Darth Vader himself.

"He is learning well," said Darth Vader. Between the echoes and the Sith Lord's black mask, it was almost impossible to tell who was speaking, if you didn't know any better. But if you did know what Darth Vader sounded like, then you would never mistake his deep, powerful voice for any other. "I am impressed."