The distance between the Emperor’s throne and everything else seemed endless. Even only a few feet away from his side, Aasha could feel Sidious’s dark powers raging beneath his pallid skin. The cloud of black influence was feeding off of every memory, every fear, every pain it could touch--an endless, cold hunger for more. Aasha knelt at Sidious’s side, frozen in place, unable to move even if she wanted. There was a certain comfort in the sheer helplessness between them, a comfort she was sure Jade had long since been accustomed to.

There was a loud thud as the doors to the throne room opened and shut, the ravenous hunger of the Sith Lord turning its eyes to an even more appetizing meal: Darth Vader.

10 guards lined the path to the throne, and as Vader passed each one, the weight of his presence seemed to crack the ice in their veins. A rush of hot blood reminding their beating hearts of their own mortality. Beneath their scarlet masks and robes, titles and training, loyalty and conviction, they were nothing more than men.

Vader stopped several feet before the steps to the throne and lowered his head.

“Master,” his dark brown hair hung low. “You summoned me?”

“Yes, Lord Vader,” Sidious rose from his towering chair, his shadow stretching over Vader’s person. “It has become quite apparent that allowing you the command of Fury Squad was a dire mistake.”

Vader’s silence spoke for itself.

“Ai Wessen, your handpicked leader, was nothing more than a rebel operative sabotaging the goals of my empire. What does that say for your own loyalty to me, Lord Vader?”

“Forgive me, Master,” Aasha could sense no remorse in the Sith, she couldn’t sense anything at all. It reminded her of Mustafar’s cold, colder than Sidious.

“And what of your apprentice, Lord Vader?” His head rose, fixating on Aasha, not even attempting to cover the deception. “Yet another foolish attempt to usurp my power.”

Vader rose from the ground, and with that decision, the tension in the throne room began to splinter.

“Your defeat at the hands of Obi-Wan Kenobi so many years ago, it lingers on you still. The greatest potential of any of us amounting to nothing more than a servant of fear and anger. How your Jedi Masters would’ve loved to see their Chosen One. A failure of a Jedi, a failure of a Sith, and a failure of a master.”

“Your arrogance blinds you, Master.”

Sidious’s cackle stretched through the entirety of the room.

“Through me, the Jedi Order was eradicated, and, through me, the security of this galaxy has become complete. The truths of the Sith--master and apprentice--they are nothing but relics in my new era. And, sadly, you will not bare witness to it any longer, my Old Friend.”

The crack of the Sith Lord’s lightning was thunderous and blinding. A viciously erratic array of violet and dark blue tendrils leapt from the Emperor’s fingertips and Darth Vader was blown backwards.

Catching himself, he swiftly rose to his feet, but before he could draw his lightsaber, the jolt of an electro-pike coursed through his body. With a snarl, Vader knocked back the first of the guards to attack him. Aasha watched as the silent robed guards coordinated an assault on the Sith, their jabs designed to keep Vader off balance and from drawing his lightsaber--disrupting his concentration so that he can’t utilize the Force--leading his every move into a slowly closing in prison.

The stray strike would singe the edges of Vader’s dark cloak as he struggled to find his footing, but, eventually, he allowed himself to be pierced by one of the pikes.

Taking the jab, Vader wrested the staff from the guard with one hand and struck him with the backside of the other. The guard’s helmet crumpled in like cheap metal--unable to withstand the sheer force of impact. As one fell, the others regrouped themselves, while Darth Vader took in a deep breath and prepared to deal with the dead men blocking his path.