Natasi Daala stood tall upon the bridge of the Gorgon, pride of Tarkin's fleet, beholding the beauty of the Maw Cluster. The Gorgon itselfusually lingered like a dark valkyrie on the horizon, dominating everything within its vicinity. It usually held singular possession of the awe in her heart. Today, however, the woman stood transfixed in the midst of a different awe: one that could only be conjured by something as strange as the Maw's black hole cluster. Her breath caught and fluttered in her throat like a dying spark. Before her, through the main viewport of the Gorgon, the Maw unfolded in all of its majesty - a roaring mess of celestial blues, smoldering flares of purple, and bleeding crimson edges that roiled and dissolved across the messy sprawl of gravitational chaos.
The supercluster of black holes, held in stasis within a cloud of unstable ionizing gases, pierced the heavy blanket of space like a melted splatter of silver on an obsidian canvas. The hazy event horizon of the Maw's constituent black holes glowed with eerie light, and even the light within the bridge of the Gorgon seemed to tremble delicately, distorted by gravity's merciless grasp. The afterimages of long-devoured nebulae wept with the colors of forgotten sunsets - as if the ghosts of these dead stars were still in mourning for their lost beauty, devoured by the void. Standing here, suspended just beyond the haunting reach of this Galactic wonder, Daala's mind echoed with the voice of her lover Tarkin. Words spoken not so long ago returned to her now:
"Behold, my dear, the Maw: here we shall build the shadow of the throne, in this place where the stars die screaming."
Behind her, the bridge buzzed with the precise workings of an Imperial vessel. Officers monitored stations and communicated in clipped tones while technicians with their eyes fixed on data streams maintained order across the Star Destroyer Daala's presence demanded excellence, her uniform immaculate, her rank insignia glinting faintly in the light reflected by the Maw.
The Captain's thoughts, however, were turbulent. Trouble was afoot: suspicious transmissions from Maw Cluster scientists; encoded messages hinting at outsider collusion; whispers of a secret project, hidden deep beneath her very nose.
Daala's green eyes narrowed. Her instincts screamed betrayal - and she never ignored her instincts. Grand Moff Tarkin had entrusted her with Maw sector oversight - and by the great goddes Renatas (not that she still observed the foolish customs of her youth), she would not fail him. With deliberate slowness, Daala raised her hand and summoned her second-in-command, Commander Kratas.
"Kratas, dispatch a priority signal to Coruscant. Request Inquisitorial assistance."
Kratas' eyebrows rose slightly. "An Inquisitor, Captain? The situation warrants such severity?"
Daala, still gazing beyond the conversation and deep into the heart of the Maw, responded in glacial tones.
"It warrants more than severity, Kratas. It warrants fear. Terror, even. Someone in the Maw hides secrets from the Empire. I will uncover them. An Inquisitor will... encourage cooperation. Aid our efforts."
As Kratas turned from her and relayed the order, Daala watched the tempestuous vision before her. She imagined that the Maw itself had a consciousness, and knew what it was doing as it chewed its way through space-time. Indeed, in some strange, hidden way, Daala hoped it did.
Suddenly, the bridge intercom cracked to life: "Captain Daala, signal from Coruscant received. Inquisitorius acknowledges your request. ETA to Maw Cluster: 36 hours." Daala's lips curved minutely upwards. All treasonous plots would be illuminated soon.