“Instead, he broke you, Inquisitor,” Vader hissed sarcastically. “Broke you quite handily, if the medical reports are to be believed.”
“Give me another chance, my lord,” Tremayne looked up sharply, his remaining eye radiating shame and anger in equal measure. “I will crush the novice’s spirit and bring his broken body to you as a trophy.”
“Indeed?” Vader voice dripped with facetious amusement. “And what of Arkanian? Surely he will protect the boy.”
“Arkanian is dead, my Lord,” the wounded Inquisitor replied.
“Excellent. Arkanian has been an irritation to the Emperor for far too long. Fortunately for you, Tremayne, I am in a forgiving mood.” Vader leaned forward, and the air in the medical bay suddenly seemed to crackle with menace. “Do not fail me again.”
Bowing his head, Tremayne spoke, his voice hoarse with a mix of relief, rage and shame. “I will not fail, master.”
Without another word, Vader departed, leaving the High Inquisitor to plan his next interview with Corwin Shelvay.