Title: Political Act
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: Three-sentence fic. Short version: Politics are hard.



Dark Council meetings are always an ordeal for Darth Imperius; they are a grueling slog through complex politics that the other Councillors try to simplify to suit their own goals, and he is one of the very few with a seat on the Council who has any interest in doing what would be best for the Empire and all of the people in it, who is not just using the title to gain some temporary advantage at the Empire’s expense. But even that would be easier to handle if not for the constant voice in the back of his head, the faint whispers that say “You are a slave, nothing more, you do not belong here, and someday you will pay for this presumption, they will tear you to pieces and cast you out.”

Every time he enters those chambers, physically or holographically, he puts on an act, continuing to play the role of the consummate Sorcerer who tore Darth Thanaton to pieces in his own seat of power; he hides the discomfort behind his mask and hood and makes his commands with conviction, the one thing he does not have to feign in this terrible place, and he does what he must, because even as a slave he’d learned that the best thing to do when he was afraid was to pretend he was not, until he himself believed it.