“One of the cartels has discovered something. I need to find out what it is.”
“Is this connected to that Mandalorian?”
“Seems so. But he’s off Coruscant now and won’t be bothering you again.”
“Are you sure he won’t come back?”
“As sure as I can be.”
“Well, that’s something,” she said with more satisfaction than she actually felt. Now that she had accomplished everything she’d set out to do that day, she could reasonably retreat to her sanctuary in the old districts and go back to doing what she did best. The trouble was, she wasn’t quite ready to cast free of Shigar Konshi. He reminded her of what it was like to be given a new mission: objectives, resources, constraints, deadlines. She missed the days when everything was sharply defined and unambiguous.
“Ever been to Hutta before?” she asked him.
“No. Not the surface.”
“It’s vile and dangerous. I was there on a covert op two years ago. Very nearly didn’t get out again.”
“You’ve done covert work?”
“More than I care to think about.” She hadn’t told him about special forces and the Blackstars. As far as Shigar knew, she was just an ordinary trooper, taking a temporary break from duty.
“What about slicing?” he asked her, visibly picking up. “Do they teach you that kind of thing, too?”
“The basics. I learned a whole lot more from a girl called Kixi when I arrived here. Now I could do it in my sleep.”
“And you’re familiar with some of the rougher gangs that run around the underworld. You’d even pass for one of them, with a bit of a wash.”
“Hey, watch it.” She threw a punch at his shoulder, which he dodged with surprising ease.
He stopped walking, not joking around at all, and they stood facing each other.
“You could come with me,” he said, as though the idea had just occurred to him. “To Hutta, I mean.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said.
He didn’t laugh. “I’m serious. You just implied I’d need a guide there, and I could certainly use the help. It’s a big job.”
“Will you tell me what we’d be looking for? I don’t like being left in the dark, ever.”
“I don’t know what it is myself. Not yet. I know as little about it as you do.”
“Well …” She pretended to think about it, although she’d worked out her answer while he had been asking about her covert ops qualifications, just like he had been wanting to ask her ever since he finished talking with his Master. That was what he’d had trouble spitting out this whole time. She could see it perfectly now. He didn’t want to ask her outright for fear of putting her on the defensive. And maybe he imagined that she didn’t want to ask him for fear of looking desperate. This way, it looked like they were coming up with the idea together. No one needed to be rescued. They were a team.
His transparency both amused her and warmed her to him. She had no choice but to go to Hutta, if only to save him from what was waiting for him there. Sure, the Sith were hard work, but the Hutts would eat him alive if they captured him in this state.
“All right,” she said, “but one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You stop thinking that you’re doing me a favor.”
He flushed. “All right.”
“And you buy me a proper meal. I’ve been living on concentrates for weeks.”
“That’s two favors.”
“Think of that last one as good troop management. You don’t want me losing my concentration on the job, do you?”
“I guess not.” He smiled in a way that made him look even younger than he was. “Come on, Moxla. We’re not getting any closer just standing here.”
She sloppily saluted.
They strode off into the night, and within three paces their steps had unconsciously fallen into time.
BLACK ON BLACK, and a hint of bright steel.
The twelve Lords of the Emperor’s Dark Council stared at Eldon Ax and her Master with the combined force of a glacial avalanche.
“… and so you see, my lords,” Darth Chratis concluded, “how this situation can be advanced by the application of swift and appropriate action: the right people in the right place at the right time. My apprentice and I are the people. The place is Hutta. The time to strike is right now.”
They were standing in a recessed section of the floor, surrounded by the Dark Council. Twelve monstrous visages gazed down at them—some exposed and scarred, others hidden by masks—all radiating cool and constant hate. These were the Emperor’s confidants, his most prized servants. They alone saw his face, and now they were seeing Ax’s.
She felt her Master’s fear for the first time, and it thrilled her.
“Spare us the rhetoric, Darth Chratis,” said one of the Dark Lords, a being that might once have been a woman but whose face now was little more than a sexless skeleton. “We will not be moved by speeches.”
“What is it, exactly, that you want?” added another, his voice a high-pitched stiletto issuing from a featureless iron mask. “Tell us your plans.”
“My apprentice will infiltrate the court of Tassaa Bareesh,” Darth Chratis said, “in order to steal the information from the Hutts. I will wait offworld. When she has succeeded, I will proceed to the location of the colony and begin its annexation, to the continued glory of the Empire.”
He bowed low, and Ax was filled with contempt.
“A simple plan,” said another of the Dark Lords. Darth Howl had teeth sharpened to points, and his face was slashed by random patterns of straight lines. “I admire its directness. We do not negotiate with criminals.”
“Tassaa Bareesh has been of use to us,” said another. “It would not be wise to anger her.”
“My apprentice will be circumspect,” Darth Chratis assured them. “She is unknown to them. They will not detect her.”
“And the annexation itself. How will you facilitate this? You cannot have sufficient resources of your own to capture an entire world.”
“No, my lords. I will require at least a division to quash any resistance.”
“An entire division?” Dry mutterings circulated around the ring of Dark Lords. “You ask too much.”
“Do you expect significant resistance?”
“Yes, Darth Howl.” Here Ax’s Master hesitated. The one point he had downplayed during his summary was at last being dragged into view. “The colony was founded by fugitives from the Empire.”
“What kind of fugitives?”
He outlined everything they had uncovered about Lema Xandret while the Council listened in chilly silence. When he described the connection between Xandret and Ax, all eyes turned to her. She did her best to stare right back, although it caused her physical pain at the back of her eye sockets. It was like meeting the gaze of a black hole.
“The Mandalorian let the daughter of the fugitives live,” said Darth Howl when the account was finished. “Can you be sure there is no connection between them?”
“I have examined her thoroughly. She feels no sympathy for the ones we seek.”
“What say you, girl? Tell me what you remember of your mother.”
Ax forced her tongue to unfreeze. She had been spoken to, so she must reply. That was how it worked.
“I remember nothing, my lord. That is both a curse and a blessing.”
“Explain.”
“My lack of memory means that I can offer no clue as to the whereabouts of the fugitives. That is a curse, because it would be simplest to avoid dealing with the Hutts altogether. But if I did remember, my feelings might indeed be clouded, and you would be right to mistrust me. I offer you my assurance that I am loyal, and that the Hutts can be dealt with.”
She felt a pressure on her mind, as though a mountain were leaning on it.
“You are confident,” said Darth Howl. “Perhaps overconfident. But you are not lying.”
“Thank you, my lor
d.” She bowed deeply.
“That doesn’t mean, however, that we can trust you.”
She straightened. “If I may address the Council once more, there is something I wish to say.”
“Speak,” Darth Howl instructed her.
Darth Chratis shot her a warning glance, but she ignored him.
“This mission is paramount, and not just because of the world we stand to gain. There is something my Master has not raised with you, and it concerns the actions of the Mandalorian, Dao Stryver. His master was once an ally of the Empire, but in recent years Mandalore has been distant, threatening, even. Yet this one knew my history, knew of my biological connection to Lema Xandret, knew where to find me. He knew all these things—how? I believe that finding him and obtaining an answer to this question is critical to the security of the Empire.”
That provoked another round of whispering. A Mandalorian spy in the Imperial administration? Unthinkable—yet potentially disastrous if it was true. It could signal the turning of hostile Mandalorian eyes onto the Empire. Whole chains of command would need to be scrutinized. Purges would be required. Heads would roll, perhaps even the Minister of Intelligence’s. The turmoil could be tremendous.
Darth Chratis stared at her with lips pressed so tightly together he might have been making diamonds out of his teeth.
Then, unexpectedly, Darth Howl began to laugh. It was an awful sound, full of bile and rot and cruelty, and it punctured the tension like a dagger. It echoed through the Council chamber like the sound of breaking glass, bringing all else to silence.
“Eldon Ax,” he said, when his malignant mirth subsided, “you do not fool me.”
The blood in Ax’s veins turned to ice. “I swear, my lord—”
“Do not interrupt.” The whip-crack of command was backed up by the full power of the Force. “I know a liar when I meet one.”
Ax could not move. She could only stare in horror, wondering what had gone wrong.
“You speak of infiltrators in the Empire, of Mandalorian infiltration,” her accuser went on. “But I see you clearly, Eldon Ax. I know what stirs in you, which you would hide from all of us. I feel your hatred for the Mandalorian and the desire for revenge. I know that this mission has nothing to do with the Empire. It is all about proving that Dao Stryver was wrong to dismiss you by not killing you. You yearn to turn the tables on him, to defeat him in turn, and then to kill him. That is all you desire. That is what fills your heart.”
An icy smile spread across Darth Howl’s face.
She braced herself to receive the punishment she deserved.
Instead he said, “I approve.”
The invisible hand gripping Ax from head to foot relaxed. “My lord?”
“You have demonstrated to me that you are a true servant of the dark side, Eldon Ax. I endorse your plans, and I advise my colleagues on the Council to do the same.”
Relief swept through Ax. Coming so soon after her certainty that she was about to die, it made her feel light-headed. “Thank you, my lord.”
Darth Howl raised a hand for silence. “I have just one clarification to make.”
Ax’s Master looked up at him. “Yes, my lord?”
“The issue at hand is not the security of the Empire. There are a dozen sources from which Dao Stryver could have learned the girl’s heritage, including, and not to be forgotten, the girl’s mother herself. The issue is not even the world you hope to bring us, although naturally that would be a significant boon to our preparations for war. No, Darth Chratis, the issue is defiance. Fifteen years ago, Lema Xandret made a stand against the Sith and escaped the punishment that was rightly hers. Now comes this opportunity to correct that oversight. We must take it in order to demonstrate to all that our strength has only increased, and that we never forgive.”
The Council greeted his pronouncement with a murmur of approval. Some eyes glanced at the holoprojector in the center of the room, as though even the absence of the Emperor’s image was enough to inspire respect and fear.
Darth Chratis bowed low. “You have my word, my lords, that an example will be made of the girl’s rebellious kin. Their names will be expunged from history, except as an example to those who would defy us.”
Darth Howl didn’t look at Darth Chratis. His gaze remained firmly fixed on Ax.
“I understand,” Ax told him. And she did. This was a test of loyalty as much as it was a mission to punish forgotten traitors. Being a Sith was not just about feeling hatred and anger; it was finding a way to focus those feelings toward the attainment of mastery. Ax said she had forgotten her mother and held her no affection, but when Lema Xandret stood before her and the time came to deliver her rightful punishment, could Ax be the one to administer it?
She swore that she would. There was no affection in her bones for anyone. Not even her Master.
She stood in silent obedience as Darth Chratis confirmed the details of his plan. The Empire would provide him with half a division to command as he saw fit. They would await word from Ax on Hutta before moving on to their final destination. An Imperial envoy would be sent to provide cover for Ax, but that person would play no significant role in the affair. He or she would simply assure Tassaa Bareesh that the Emperor wasn’t suspiciously disinterested in the auction of her prize.
“Your ambitions are plain to us, Darth Chratis,” Darth Howl told him. “Deliver us this world, and you will be rewarded.”
With one last, overlong bow, Darth Chratis took his leave of the Council, and his apprentice followed respectfully two paces behind.
Only when they were in the shuttle did he turn on her. His slender staff clicked open lengthways at one end and the other retracted, forming the crosspieces and handle of his bloodred lightsaber. It stabbed at her face, stopping just short of her skin, and she froze.
“You surprised me in there,” he said in a deceptively quiet voice. “Don’t ever surprise me again.”
She didn’t say: You’re a fool. You mishandled the whole thing. If you’d let me talk to you beforehand, instead of raging about my inability to remember anything, I could have told you in advance. Instead of betraying you, I saved you, and our plan, from being dismissed out of hand.
“I will not, Master” was all she said.
Satisfied with her compliance, Darth Chratis deactivated his lightsaber and stepped away. Truce, she thought, for now. With a grunt, he settled back to ride out the trip from Korriban back to Dromund Kaas—and from there to Hutta, and the attainment of all their dreams.
“THE HUTTS HAVE created quite a stir,” said Supreme Commander Stantorrs, leaning back in his chair and tapping one finger on his desk. “I’ve received four Senatorial inquiries overnight, and I expect more during the day. Whether this auction is a scam or not, we’ll have to do something about it now.”
Ula said, “We can’t be seen to be sitting on our hands, sir.” Obedience and assurance: that was all the Supreme Commander wanted from his aides. A true meritocracy, however, would have demanded much more from its citizens.
“Indeed not!” Stantorrs exclaimed. “When every world in the Republic, from the outlying settlements to the Core itself, is crying poverty, to let a possible source of resources slip through our fingers would be a public relations disaster, not to mention a setback for galactic security.”
“When the Mandalorians are involved,” said another aide, “it’s often a security issue.”
“Indeed. And that’s why I’ve decided to pursue this, publicly and politically, to ensure that it can’t come back on us later.”
The martial rhythm of the Supreme Commander’s tapping put Ula on edge. Give it a rest, he wanted to yell at them. It’s a smokescreen, a distraction from the real issue—the cold war you’re losing! The Hutts are exploiting and feeding your paranoia at the very same time. Don’t you see how gullible this makes you all look?
So wound up was he in his internal dialogue that he almost didn’t hear the Supreme Commander’s next words.
�
��That’s why I’ve decided to send you, Ula, to Hutta as an official envoy of the Republic.”
Ula’s thoughts hit the roadblock of that pronouncement and formed a five-skylane pileup.
“You—what, sir?”
“I need someone to investigate and, if necessary, negotiate on our behalf. Not someone senior—we don’t want the Hutts thinking we’re too interested—and not someone from the military, either, since this is a political matter. We need someone informed and dedicated, and the reports you filed last night indicate that you are nothing if not both. Ula, I want you on the first available shuttle.”
The other aides stared at him with undisguised envy as Ula tried to find a way out of the situation.
“I’m flattered, sir, but—”
“Your portfolios are already full, I know, but there’s nothing you can’t delegate. And if it’s security you’re worried about, I’ve requisitioned a full detail. We can’t afford to lose someone of your abilities, Ula.”
Ula swallowed. Stantorrs had shot down his two major objections in little more than one breath. While it was indeed pleasing that the Supreme Commander afforded him such trust, what use was he as an informer in the wrong sector of the galaxy? He needed to be here, in the office, not mucking around with filthy Hutts and potentially coming under fire.
The gang war that had led to Stantorrs hearing about the Cinzia would be just a minor skirmish if the ship’s home was as valuable as the Hutts said it was. Of that Ula was certain, and he was an informer, not a soldier, for a reason. He liked fighting as little as he liked being in the spotlight. He simply wasn’t trained for that kind of thing.
There seemed no way to escape it, though, so he accepted with all the grace he could muster.
“Excellent. I know I can rely on you, Ula. Off the record, I’ll expect you to keep a sharp eye out for Jedi, of course. Satele Shan says she’ll take no official action, but I don’t trust her. You know the major players, don’t you? You see one of them, you let me know.”
Ula nodded. “I will, sir.”
“And if there’s any substance to the Hutts’ claims, report immediately. I’ll have a fleet on standing orders to offer the world protection from the Empire.”
The Old Republic Series Page 6