Before - Legends Before the Saga The Price of Ambition

Title: The Price of Ambition
Author: Ihsan997
Characters: SWtOR OCs (mine, one I made for my friend to roleplay at their request, my wife's when she could be bothered to play the game, stock villain + supporting characters)
Timeframe: 3638 BBY
Keywords: character study, power has a price, third person, Old Republic era, emotional manipulation, bittersweet ending, the dark side
Genre: action, drama

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.

Summary: This is a backstory I wrote for a SWtOR character which ended up being the backstory for several other characters. There were roleplay scenarios as well as a few shorter stories which preceded this, but you know what? If I've written this well, then what the reader needs to know should be shown in the narrative. If it doesn't show, then I need to clarify and revise. No need for a long prologue.

 

Chapter 1: An Offer

The datapad in Nashaba’s hand displayed the stark report of Darth Vorlag’s escape from the Aethel system. A muscle twitched in her jaw, the only outward sign of the carefully contained fury that simmered beneath her composed exterior. Vorlag. The name was a bitter taste on her tongue, a reminder of the insidious games he’d played, the subtle and not-so-subtle attacks that had chipped away at her hard-won authority. The memory of her informants found riddled with shrapnel, the fabricated evidence that had sent her chasing shadows across the Outer Rim, the constant undermining of her operations – it all coalesced into a burning desire for retribution. He saw her ambition as a weakness to exploit, a rival to be neutralized. He would learn the true cost of such arrogance.

She scanned the report from Aethel. Jabbar: young, efficient, disturbingly precise. Surveillance logs showed him driving through Imperial lines like a vibroblade—cutting toward Vorlag with single-minded fury. He’d ignored pleas for backup. Prioritized the command bunker. The Republic called it bravery. She called it… leverage.

She initiated the contact through unofficial channels, a coded communication requesting a debriefing on the Aethel operation; she'd designed it to look like an imitation of Republic communications, but inept enough for him to see the ruse. When Jabbar's image appeared on the holoprojector in the sterile confines of her Imperial office, his youthful features were etched with a weariness that belied his age. There was a guarded intensity in his blue eyes, a simmering anger that Nashaba recognized. She kept her tone professional, her posture conveying authority.

“Padawan Jabbar,” she began, her voice cool and measured, her gaze unwavering. “Your actions on Balmorra, while…unorthodox, ultimately served the Empire’s interests in a peculiar way. And your more recent endeavors on Aethel were…decisive. The Republic owes you a debt for the swift elimination of a troublesome Imperial presence.” There was a subtle emphasis on "peculiar" and "ultimately," a veiled reminder of their past encounter.

Jabbar’s gaze was wary, his posture stiff. “I did what was necessary. On Balmorra, and on Aethel.” His voice held a clipped edge, a defensive tone underlying the weariness. The memory of her interrogation chamber, the glint of the restraints, lingered in his mind.

Nashaba inclined her head slightly, a hint of a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “Necessity is a fascinating justification, Padawan. Often…malleable. Darth Vorlag’s escape from Aethel, however, presents a far less malleable threat. His network stretches across several sectors, and his unpredictable actions endanger Republic interests and innocent lives. You encountered him directly, did you not?” She steered the conversation towards their shared objective, her tone shifting to a more business-like efficiency.

“He fled,” Jabbar stated, taking a step toward his own holoreceiver and then falling back when he noticed. The memory of Vorlag’s departing shuttle still rankled.

“Indeed. A frustrating outcome. The Jedi are tasked with protecting the innocent, are they not?” Nashaba continued, her gaze holding his. “A powerful Sith Lord like Vorlag, left unchecked, will undoubtedly bring suffering to countless beings.” She subtly invoked his Jedi training, appealing to the ideals she suspected still held sway, however tenuously.

“Vorlag is a Sith - just like you,” Jabbar reiterated, his voice hardening. “He needs to be stopped. By the Republic, if the Jedi won’t…” The last part was almost a muttered aside, revealing a sliver of his disillusionment.

“The Republic has its resources stretched thin, Padawan,” Nashaba countered smoothly. “But I…I have my own resources, my own network. I possess information regarding Vorlag’s current trajectory, intelligence that the Republic might find…slow in acquiring. My priority, like yours, is to neutralize his threat. Consider this, Padawan.” She leaned forward slightly, her gaze intense. “An opportunity to settle unfinished business. To strike at the dangerous tyrant who slipped through your fingers. To fulfill your duty, and to ensure the safety of those the Republic protects…efficiently.” Her emphasis on "efficiently" was a subtle nod to his own methods on Aethel. “I can provide you with the means to find him.”

Jabbar’s eyes narrowed, suspicion still evident. He studied her, searching for the hidden agenda he instinctively felt. “Why me? Why not send your own forces if you have a rivalry with him?”

Nashaba’s expression remained cool. “My…expertise lies in other areas, Padawan. And your…unique talents have already proven effective against Vorlag’s command. Think of it as a strategic alignment. A temporary…synergy of interests.” She offered a carefully constructed rationale, appealing to his ego and his desire for results.

"No," Jabbar replied at first, garnering a smug grin from her. "He's Sith; you're Sith. You're trying to confuse me."

But the lure of vengeance, the chance to confront the man who had humiliated him and represented the enemy he was trained to fight, was a powerful draw. He still despised the Empire, and his past encounter with Nashaba left a bitter taste, but Vorlag was the immediate focus of his anger. He was a wounded animal, perhaps, but one that recognized a potential advantage, even in an uneasy alliance.

“You’re not giving me charity. What’s your angle?” he asked, his initial frost beginning to thaw slightly, replaced by a cautious curiosity. Her smugness expanded like a black hole.

He still despised the Empire. Nashaba’s presence made his skin crawl. But Vorlag…Vorlag was the one who mattered. The one who escaped. And if the Jedi Council wanted to tie his hands again—if they wanted another failure—he’d go around them. Just this once. Just until Vorlag bled.