Title: Advice
Fandom: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Rating: SFW, no warnings.
Length: 423 words
Challenge: Win or Lose
Content notes: Spoilers for the Sith Inquisitor storyline.
Summary: The newly-appointed Darth speaks to one of his new colleagues.



“They’re going to challenge you, you know.”

Baar (or Darth Imperius now, he supposed, as strange as the new title felt to him) still remembered how puzzled he’d felt when he’d heard the soft, amused voice over his shoulder. He’d turned to the speaker, an aged Pureblood in ornate robes - Darth Vowrawn, his hurried research during the closing of the meeting had confirmed, the leader of the Sphere of Logistics and Production. Baar knew little of him, except that he had held a seat on the Dark Council for a span of time so long that it was almost unheard of.

For a moment he’d had no idea how to respond - he considered excuse me or I beg your pardon, I didn’t hear but neither of them sounded like things a Darth would say. He finally settled on “Is that so,” spoken in a polite but rather flat tone.

Darth Vowrawn’s smile had widened at that. “Of course. You have managed to supplant the holder of one of the most coveted seats on the Council. I cannot imagine how many others would wish to succeed you, by whatever means necessary.”

Baar had nodded, hoping to look thoughtful. The old Sith was right, of course. Everyone in the Order wanted access to the relics and research of Ancient Knowledge, and there he was, having essentially stumbled into it to save his own skin. “Then I suppose that my life is not about to become less interesting, after all.”

“Ha!” Vowrawn pressed a hand against his forehead as he laughed. At the time, Baar had found it strange that this old man was in such good spirits, particularly in conversation with a former slave. It made far more sense when he’d learned about the other upheaval on the Dark Council that morning. “No, Darth Imperius, not at all. If I can offer some advice?”

“If you wish,” he said, still glad he had the mask to hide the confusion on his face.

Darth Vowrawn’s eyes glittered as he leaned forward, close enough to lower his voice and still be heard. Baar stayed on his guard, clasping his hands together as he waited.

Finally, the old Darth spoke. “Don’t lose.” And before Baar could even think of another response, he was walking away, seemingly bent on another target. Baar didn’t want to chase him down; he merely stayed where he was, looking after him curiously.

He had then started to realize just what kind of trouble he had gotten himself into.