Three
The Citadel, Dromund Kaas
13 ATC
A'tro had set up her office with her desk at a slight diagonal away from the door. This meant that when she sat behind it and faced straight ahead, she was not looking directly at whoever might be in the room. It was a strategic choice, intended to force visitors to feel that they had to work to earn her full attention.
She was starting to realize that the layout also gave her an excuse to avoid looking at the one person she really didn't want to see.
Captain Malavai Quinn stood at attention in the center of the room. He had been standing there, straight and rigid as a post, for several minutes, and A'tro had no intention of letting him relax. Let him be as uncomfortable in her presence as she was in his.
She quested outward with the Force, trying to get a sense of his emotions, and found nothing. She had never been very good at reading people.
She let the moments drag on, one after another, until she had finished the latest report from Corellia. At last, she closed the report, brought up a new document, and let her gaze turn ever so slightly towards the center of the room.
"Captain Quinn," she said in the tone of one discussing the weather. "I believe that your talents would be best put to use within the Imperial military directly. To that end, you have been reassigned to the command of Moff Aurelius Drayle, effective immediately."
A'tro forced herself to turn her head and look at him straight on. His face bore the same deliberately blank expression it always had.
"I trust you understand," A'tro said, feeling the weight of the words as they emerged into the air to hang for a moment, then fall like mountains.
"Yes, my lord," Quinn replied evenly.
A'tro wondered if this was all an act, or if he really didn't care. She could never tell with him anymore. "That will be all, Captain. Dismissed."
He bowed to her—a gratifying sight, she had to admit—and left.
The moment the doors closed behind him, A'tro slumped over in her chair with a heavy sigh. That had been entirely too difficult. Clearly, putting Quinn as far away from her as possible was the best option.
Reaching up behind her head, she removed the tie from her hair, then ran a hand through the rust-colored locks. It was done. Quinn was gone, the viper in her bed reduced to just another cog in the Imperial war machine.
I'll miss him. She suppressed the thought as soon as it surfaced, but it was there nonetheless.
The next day, A'tro received a call from Servant One.
"Wrath," he said immediately. "You have returned to Dromund Kaas."
"Our most vital campaigns are stable," A'tro replied, unconsciously putting her hands behind her back in an Imperial parade rest. "I felt it best to return to the capital and—"
Servant One cut her off. "You misunderstand. Explanations for your actions are not required."
A'tro nodded slowly, keeping her face impassive.
"The Emperor is pleased with his Wrath," Servant One continued. "You have done well."
"It has been my honor to serve our Emperor."
"Yes," Servant One said blandly. "Your dedication will be rewarded. I trust I need not explain to you the power of the Emperor's chosen guardsmen?"
"The Imperial Guards live up to their reputation," A'tro said. She realized what she was doing with her hands and jerked them down to her sides.
"Two of the Guard's most capable members have been assigned to your service. You will find them awaiting your command outside your chambers."
A'tro frowned. "I am grateful, but I don't believe I require bodyguards."
"They will do more than protect you. They are a symbol of the Emperor's favor. With them at your side, all will know that you are truly his Wrath."
"I believe I understand," A'tro said slowly. The loyalty of the Imperial Guard could not be coerced. They answered only to the Emperor himself, and as such, only he could have commanded them to obey her. As symbols went, it was certainly a powerful one.
"Good. The Emperor is satisfied with you for now, but do not become complacent. You will not be permitted to repeat the mistakes of your predecessor."
An icy claw of fear raked its way down her spine. "I am the Emperor's loyal and humble servant."
"Of course. Servant One out." The transmission ended.
A'tro took several deep breaths. The cold claw had lodged itself in her gut. The Emperor's Hand had never explained how or why the position of Wrath had become vacant. Every Sith with any political savvy had known who the Emperor's Wrath was, even if they dared not speak of him.
The Wrath was the Emperor's right hand, and above the ordinary squabbling of lesser Sith. The old Wrath likely had not been eliminated by rivals. If he had fallen in battle, the Republic surely would have claimed the credit for such an impressive victory. That left two possibilities: either he had failed the Emperor and been cast aside, or…
Her resources were few, given that she was new to the Dark Council and Imperial Intelligence was still effectively disbanded, but she had made subtle inquiries, with disturbing results. Shortly before the Emperor's Hand had first contacted her, task forces of the Imperial Guard had been dispatched all across Imperial space and beyond, sweeping through system after system.
As if they were hunting someone.
It was a ludicrous notion, but A'tro found it haunted her nonetheless. Could the former Wrath have turned traitor? Surely it was impossible that a Sith of such high rank, so trusted by the Emperor, would ever betray that trust. Lesser Sith might falter in their convictions; she knew that far too well. But not an Emperor's Wrath.
On some odd level, she found that she was actually grateful to the old Wrath, whatever his fate. Had the Emperor's Hand not intervened, she would have likely perished in Baras' trap on Quesh. But the Emperor had needed someone, and out of all the Sith in the Empire, he had chosen her.
She had wondered why, at first, but there was no point to that now, just as there was no point in speculating over the fate of her predecessor. It was time to meet these Imperial Guards who had been assigned to her.
She moved away from the holoterminal and checked the monitor that displayed the hallway outside her apartment. Sure enough, two figures in the distinctive red armor of the Emperor's elite soldiers stood by her door. One was a head taller than the other, while the shorter of the pair had a more slender and curved figure, suggesting at a woman under the all-concealing red.
Interesting, A'tro thought. She had seen a fair number of the Imperial Guard on Corellia, but only a few of them were women. She went to the door and opened it.
The two guards immediately turned to face her, bowing in unison.
"Lord Wrath," the shorter one said in a deep, but definitely female voice. "We have been instructed to present ourselves to you for induction into your service."
"Yes, I've been informed," A'tro said. "Come with me."
She turned and walked further into her antechamber, trusting that they would follow. The sound of footsteps and the door closing confirmed her instinct.
"Now, then," she continued, turning back to face them. "Each of you, show me your face and tell me your name and rank. I'd like to know who I'll be dealing with."
They hesitated for a moment, then removed their red helmets.
The tall guard was a man who looked to be somewhere in his mid-forties, with a hard, angular face and steely gray eyes. His hair was shaved close to his head, and he had a spectacular set of scars that slashed across his face and up over his scalp, probably from the claws of some wild animal. "Vorin Janeth, my lord," he said. His voice was gravelly, as if he didn't use it much.
"I'm Arden Zariel," his female compatriot said. Of a similar age to Janeth, she had a cybernetic implant that mostly covered a patch of scar tissue on the right side of her pale face. Her gray-streaked black hair was cut short, and she had dark blue eyes that unsettlingly reminded A'tro of Quinn. "As we now serve you exclusively, we are outside the normal military chain of command. Only you and the Emperor himself have the authority to direct us, my lord."
So I keep hearing. "Very well. I look forward to working with you both. While I am on Dromund Kaas, you will probably not see combat. In the field, however, I trust you are capable of battling any enemies I might face?"
Zariel inclined her head. "Rest assured, Lord Wrath, Janeth and I have slain many Jedi." She hesitated for a moment. "And many Sith."
There it was—both threat and reminder. The guardsmen were there to do more than protect her. They were there to watch her.
And if I fail, or show any signs of disloyalty, I'm sure they have orders to kill me, A'tro thought grimly. This "gift" may be more trouble than it's worth. "Excellent," she said smoothly, careful to betray no trace of her misgivings. "I will call on you tomorrow to accompany me on some business here in the capital. Until then, you are dismissed."
Zariel and Janeth bowed, put their helmets on, and left the room, all in perfect unison that must have taken practice.
When they were gone, A'tro let her brow furrow into a worried frown. She was confident in her ability to carry out her duties, but the presence of the two guardsmen complicated things. They would probably report her every move to the Emperor's Hand. It was just as well that she had settled matters with her personal life. She had to be conscious of the fact that her every move was now a reflection on the Emperor himself.
Her life was over. The time of the Emperor's Wrath had begun.
