A thrill of sickly recognition ran through Ishtaa as they ascended into the room above. She had been here before. Looking up into the very back of the gallery on the balcony, she could see where she had sat, though the gilded chair had been removed. The ornate, almost elegant, decor of the space masked eons of bloodshed. This was the hall of judgment. It wasn't a room where trials were held. It was where examples were brought to die.

The sick feeling turned to chill horror as the crowd raised up a murmur of approval and Ishtaa turned to see the Sith presiding rise from her seat. The Sith Judge's coiffed silver hair wound around her head like a crown, and her frame was the crowning jewel on the gallery's face of glittering terrors. Ishtaa never learned her name; it wasn't important. The day Ishtaa had come to this hall, she was there in ceremonial capacity, to demonstrate the Wrath's presence in Imperial affairs. She had expected it to be a dull affair, full of legalistic bickering and technicalities, and had prepared herself as such, putting on her full face of Sith makeup and ornament so no one could see the boredom on her face. By day's end, she had been grateful for the makeup's mask: no amount of schooling could keep the look of horror and disgust from her face after she witnessed the atrocities this Sith overseer had commanded. She realized distantly that that was probably why they got rid of the gilt chair: during the execution of every sentence, Ishtaa's fingernails had dug into the armrests and gouged into the wood in her attempt to maintain composure.

There were no armrests here in the holding pen. Ishtaa found herself longing to be untied so she could hold Quinn's hand. It was probably better that she couldn't. If she displayed weakness now…

Be strong. Be strong for Quinn. Whatever they do to us, be strong, and they'll make it quick. Stars, make it quick.

The gallery fell silent as a second Sith from the Sphere of Laws and Justice stood and raised his hands for silence. The "trial" began.

"Ishtaa, formerly Darth Ishtaa, the Emperor's Wrath, Ward of the Empire and apprentice to Darth Baras. You stand charged with heresy, aiding and abetting the Republic, and high treason. Captain Malavai Quinn, you are charged as a knowing and willing accomplice to the aforementioned charges. How do you plead?"

Ishtaa kept unwavering eye contact with the panel above. "Some clarification is required. I have been very busy in the service of the Empire, to which of my actions do you refer?"

Scattered chuckles rose from the assembly, echoing in the hollow space. Ishtaa hid a grimace. She meant to be direct, not amusing. Cheek would only hurt Quinn now. She would have to weigh her words more carefully.

As expected, the bailiff was unamused. "The particular instances of your crimes are too many to enumerate here. Over the course of the trial, however, I believe the evidence will demonstrate your guilt on all counts."

A man in military uniform stood. "The bench calls the first witness, Darbin Sull, former Prime Minister of Corellia."

A scandalized murmur ran through the crowd. Ishtaa followed the turning heads to see the narrow, pointed face and frame of Darbin Sull rising on a platform towards the judges, up high where all could see. She willed him to look at her, daring him to turn and face the pure-daggered hatred in her eyes and tremble, but he was too busy cozying to the judges and the crowd with his most glittering smile. She curled her lip in disgust.

The Sith judge rapped his gavel for order. "Darbin Sull," he said. "You swear before the Empire that your testimony will be true and complete?"

Sull nodded, his face seeming more sweaty, protuberant, and weasel-like than Ishtaa recalled. "I swear."

The officer nodded from the bench. "Proceed."

The Sith judge dove right in. "Mr. Sull, you first met Lord Ishtaa during your tenure with the Republic on Corellia, is that correct?"

"I did."

"And what was your impression of her during this time?"

Sull turned to look directly at Ishtaa. She began to wish that she had paid closer attention to Force techniques in the Academy. What she wouldn't give for the ability to fry a man's brain in his skull with a look-the smirk he was giving her…

"I thought she was a Sith with incredible potential, a great deal of power, and fine features. Not that I would have said as much to a woman of her stature, of course."

"And did your assessment of her change as you worked by her side?"

Sull finally broke eye contact with her. "Yes," he said to the judges. He turned to the assembly at large. "It did. As time went on, I came to realize that she was very different from the other Sith I had encountered."

"How different?" the male Sith interrupted.

"Her methods in resolving conflict were not consistent with what I had seen before. Where other Sith typically favored military resolution and displays of force or terror to persuade their opponents to submit, Lord Ishtaa preferred a...diplomatic approach. She chose not to be violent with one of our agents even when doing so would have improved our cover. When Darth Decimus suggested that it might be wiser for the Empire to rule Corellia with a firm hand, she favored their freedom."

She longed to shout the truth. I saved your life. But she held her tongue.

"Have you encountered her leniency in other scenarios?"

"Not directly, your honor. But I do recall a conversation I had with her while at a gala on Nar Shaddaa not long ago."

Ishtaa froze. This didn't make any sense. She had never said anything outright, and there was no way Sull could relate what happened during that conversation without implicating himself. Unless...

"And what was the nature of your conversation?"

Ishtaa's heart plummeted in defeat when Sull turned to look at her. Those were the eyes of a man who had played his pieces well. Well done. You chose the winning side, she thought bitterly.

If nothing else, the man was a gifted liar. In another life, he might have been the star of one of the capital's opera houses. "At first, I was explaining to her the purpose of the gala. I was looking for potential donors to fund a political campaign. Corellia was a failure on my part. I sought the opportunity to make it up to the Empire, to give back where I had previously fallen short." His face fell convincingly. "But when the conversation turned to my loyalty to the Empire...our lord Ishtaa was less enthusiastic."

"Did she say anything of particular note?"

"No, your honor. It was her body language that spoke the most about her loyalty. She did not explicitly state that she was disloyal to the Empire, but she withdrew so strongly when I talked of loyalty to the Empire that I knew where she stood. Not only that, but she verbally acknowledged that to behave in the manner she did-contrary to the Sith code, with mercy and diplomacy in such a way that harmed the Empire's interests-was treason."

The crowd exploded in shouts of objection, whether to her 'disloyalty' or to Sull's story, she couldn't tell.

The lesser Sith raised his hands. "Order, order!" he cried out. The crowd gradually stilled, but the steady whispers had risen to a low, constant murmur.

The Sith presiding fixed her uncanny yellow-white stare on Sull, sending a shiver of fear down Ishtaa's spine. The overseer smiled, her teeth whiter than her hair, with the shine and sharpness of a beast's, ready to tear her victims apart.

"Mr. Sull," she said, "you gave an overview of Lord Ishtaa's actions on Corellia. Could you give us more detail?"

Sull's cheeks turned a shade between purple and red. Ishtaa was gratified to hear a quiver in his voice. "I'm not sure I'm authorized to answer that question in a public setting, your honor. It was a military campaign, you see, very secretive-"

"Secret years ago, perhaps, but the campaign for Corellia is over." Her eyes narrowed. Her smile didn't. "There can be no obfuscation in this court, Mr. Sull. Please proceed with your explanation."

"I...very well, your honor. My lord." He cleared his throat. "When the battle for Corellia was concluded, Darth Decimus advised Lord Ishtaa that she might wish to end my life to ensure Corellia's obedience to the Empire...an example, I suppose. She chose instead to grant Corellia its freedom."

"She granted you your life."

Ishtaa frowned. Why would the presiding judge turn the witness's testimony against the prosecution? Something was very wrong. The sick feeling in her stomach worsened. All of a sudden, she was afraid for Darbin Sull.

"I...Yes, your honor."

"I see." The overseer's eyebrow rose a fraction. "And where are you now, Mr. Sull?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Lord Ishtaa granted you governorship of Corellia, did she not? Why are you not there now, governing the planet in service of your Empire?"

"It...it was retaken, your honor. The Republic launched an extensive campaign with the aid of the Jedi and staged a coup. When Imperial troops withdrew from the capital, so did I."

"Then would you say that Lord Ishtaa's merciful tendencies were beneficial to the Empire in this instance?"

Sull's answer was immediate. "No, your honor. They were contrary to the Sith code and went against the advice of her military superior."

"It would appear so." The Sith presiding peered at Sull for a moment as though pondering him. "The former Wrath will be punished accordingly." Abruptly, she straightened and outstretched her arm. Sull was raised off the floor by an invisible hand; he clawed at his throat helplessly, lips sputtering for air. The Sith presiding smiled like a cat. "But her mistakes must also be rectified." She clenched her fist, jerking her hand to one side. There was a sickening snap and Darbin Sull's body spasmed, his eyes going wide and then empty, his entire body falling slack to the ground.

Someone in the crowd screamed. The courtroom erupted in mingled shouts of shock, sobs, and whispers of disbelief, an undercurrent of supportive murmurs running beneath it all. Ishtaa just stared hollowly at the body that used to be Darbin Sull: stripped of the politician's smile, his face was vacant and strangely sad.

She felt eyes on the side of her head. She turned to see Quinn, looking at her with unadulterated fear.

The Sith presiding had scarcely moved from her throne. "Has the court any further evidence to consider?" she asked lazily.

An aide stepped forward from the area behind the judges' seats to hand over a datapad. The male Sith looked it over.

"The court raises the written testimony of the deceased Darth Baras, former master to both the accused."

"Permission to speak, your honor, with all respect..." Ishtaa whipped around to look at Quinn, terrified for his sake as he spoke. He shook a little as though aware of her concern, but his back was straight.

The judge in uniform answered. "Permission granted."

"Darth Baras is-was-a traitor to the Empire, claiming to know the will of the Emperor himself in order to further his own power."

"A traitor whom you served, if the record holds true."

Quinn stiffened as muffled reactions rose from the crowd. To Ishtaa's immense relief, the Sith presiding seemed uninterested in Quinn's words. "An error in judgment," he said. "One I rectified as soon as my mistake became clear and which I have worked tirelessly to undo."

"Yes, yes, we have your records. The fact remains that the personal files of Darth Baras contain far more than his own deluded opinions. They are a trove of military and interpersonal intelligence, including the after-action reports of I suspect every officer with whom Lord Ishtaa ever interacted. Many were supported by thorough documentation and visual evidence." The military judge gave Quinn a severe look. "Which you should well know, having seen these records yourself."

Ishtaa turned to him. Quinn was motionless.

The military officer answered before Quinn did. The room dimmed slightly as a holoprojection of several dozen files went up, each scrap of information roving in a sphere. "The records in question were shown to Captain Quinn when Darth Baras contacted him on the planet Voss with the intent to gain his loyalty. He hoped to do so by demonstrating Lord Ishtaa's disloyalty to the Empire, evidenced by her continual disregard for both the Sith code and the Empire's military interests in favor of her own heretical preferences." He flicked through the datapad, pulling up individual files one by one. They went by too fast for Ishtaa to read; she caught only glimpses of words she recognized on sight. "Mercy." "Unusual." "Jedi." "Weak." Her eyes glazed over. The military officer continued. "While no individual record is damning individually, the reports as a whole-397 in number-form a body of evidence suggesting that Lord Ishtaa, formerly the Emperor's Wrath, held and continues to hold traitorous tendencies upon which she bases her decisions."

Quinn interrupted before the officer could continue. "By my calculations, across every metric, Lord Ishtaa has been one of the most successful military leaders in the Empire in the past decade. When she has strayed from mission parameters, it has been to the Empire's benefit-saving Imperial lives or acquiring additional resources." Quinn sneered. From a distance, it would have been very impressive. Ishtaa smiled in spite of herself: pale and shaken as he was, his brow still clammy with the sweat of pain, he stood his ground and babbled about statistics. "This is beneath the Empire's justice," he said derisively. "Is this the strongest evidence you can provide? The word of a failed politician who would say anything to please and the hearsay of a dead, traitorous Sith?"

Chatter rippled through the crowd, different in tone from the earlier gossipy twitters. Ishtaa's heart rose. They were asking questions, turning to Quinn's side. Even the military judge looked vaguely skeptical now, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"There is one more piece of evidence."

The military judge scowled at the male Sith's words. He turned to the aides behind him.

"Bring it forward."

A green Twi'lek in simple garb handed a datapad to the male Sith. He rose. "What follows is the written testimony of a reliable source close to the accused. Although she is unable to be here at present, her signature attests to the authenticity of the written statement. 'I hereby solemnly swear by the Emperor's throne that the words recorded here are true and accurate. Signed, Jaesa Willsaam.'"

Ishtaa's blood ran cold.