Walking Penumbral

[BlockaidRunner]

I WANT MOOOAAAARRR!

 

 

 

 

Pwease?

[ShadowMudkip]

MOAR STUFS.

Sacrifices little dolls that look like Jadus

 

Moar Nox!! please:rak_01:

[Vesaniae]

Well.

 

I'm back.

 

 

Six - Strata

Red Light District, Nar Shaddaa

19 ATC

 

 

All things considered, Vesania decided, it had been a very good day.

 

First she’d found an entire shipment of Mirage, practically begging to be sold on the black market. Then she’d stumbled across that weak-minded idiot Malgar and gotten a job in the process. At this rate, she would have enough credits to smuggle herself off Nar Shaddaa in no time.

 

Where she would go from there was another question entirely, but it was best to take these things one step at a time. Now that she had sold most of the Mirage, it was time to pursue her assassination target. According to Malgar’s datapad, the bounty hunter Normar Lanyt often frequented a cantina called the Edjj.

 

It was just outside said establishment that Vesania stood, loitering under a streetlamp and pretending to smoke while surveying the area. This was a nice part of the district, which on Nar Shaddaa meant that the streets were cleaner, the gangsters were classier, and all the letters in the neon sign above the Edjj’s entrance actually glowed. She blended right in with her sleek, dark jacket and pants, so she strode confidently up to the door and inside.

 

Her first impression of the interior was that it was dark. Her second impression was that multicolored strobe lights did very little in the way of actual illumination. Trying to get her bearings, she moved slowly into the main room, which appeared to be lined with booths along the walls. The circular shape in the middle surrounded by silhouettes was probably a bar.

 

Damn it, she thought. How am I supposed to spot Lanyt in here? She sidled along the edge of the room, trying to find a half-decent vantage point where there weren’t lights boring into her eyes every other second.

 

Something that felt like a hand grabbed her by the arm and yanked. Caught off guard, she stumbled into the nearest booth. The hooded and cloaked humanoid figure that held her by the arm let go before she could try to twist free. She leaped onto the table, pinning the figure against the back of the booth with one arm and drawing her blaster with the other.

 

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” Vesania demanded.

 

The figure coughed and shook its head violently, dislodging its hood just enough for the flashing lights to reveal a long, angular face and sharp blue eyes.

 

“You,” Vesania hissed.

 

“My lord Nox,” said the man who had once been the Minister of Intelligence. “Although I doubt you would use that name here. There are matters that we need to discuss.”

 

 

*****

 

 

Vaiken Spacedock

19 ATC

 

 

“You said you had found something?” Darth Ravage asked.

 

Lynet Vrine nodded. “Indeed, my lord. The search was even more successful than I had imagined possible.”

 

“I’m surprised you accomplished it so quickly.”

 

“As am I, but I won’t complain.” Lynet paused, her gaze shifting away from the Sith Lord. “The results were…unexpected.”

 

Ravage frowned; it wasn’t like Lynet to dither. “Explain.”

 

“As you know, my lord, during her rise to power Darth Nox called herself Vesania Serence. She was brought to Korriban with a shipment of Force-sensitive slaves under the name Kyalah Vern, who according to official records was a native of Balmorra who was enslaved following the Imperial conquest of said planet. Prior to that time, no information about her exists. However, I did find something else.”

 

“Show me.”

 

They were in the office of Ravage’s chambers on Vaiken, which included a holoterminal. Lynet took out her datapad and tapped busily at the screen.

 

“Establishing remote connection…” she murmured. “There.”

 

The holographic image of a human woman appeared. For a moment, Ravage thought it was Nox. But no, this woman’s face was different, more rounded than angular, with lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Her black hair was pulled back into a tidy braided bun, and her gaze lacked Nox’s veiled intensity.

 

“This is Imperial Intelligence operative Cipher Fourteen,” Lynet said. “According to the archives, her real name was Inarys Serence.”

 

“Serence,” Ravage repeated. “As in Vesania Serence. And there’s no way that kind of resemblance can be coincidental.”

 

“Indeed not, my lord. Inarys Serence died almost thirty years ago, but according to taxation records she had one child.”

 

“Vesania.”

 

“It seems the most likely conclusion.”

 

“Thank you, Lynet,” Ravage said slowly, turning the new information over in his mind. “You’ve been most helpful. If that’s all, you may go.”

 

Lynet bowed and departed. Ravage barely noticed.

 

If Nox’s mother had been a Cipher Agent, then Nox would have been born an Imperial citizen. But if that was the case, how had her Force-sensitivity not been discovered at an early age? Few Sith were as strong in the Force as she, and it seemed strange that her potential had gone unnoticed for so long.

 

It was almost infuriating to imagine such power escaping the Sith’s notice. She should have been brought to Korriban as a child, should have been properly instructed in the lore of the dark side so that by the time she had reached the prime of her life, nothing and no one could touch her… She should have been apprenticed to a Dark Council member, not some overambitious flake like Zash.

 

Apprenticed to you, you mean, whispered the tiny, cynical voice in the back of his mind that sounded annoyingly like Darth Marr. Sith from birth, she would have been yours to watch. To guide. To possess.

 

Ravage shook his head. He was being foolish. Nox was probably dead, and dwelling on her would accomplish nothing. This new information only compounded the mystery.

 

 

*****

 

 

Red Light District, Nar Shaddaa

19 ATC

 

 

It was considerably easier to see in one of the private rooms on the Edjj’s upper floor. Vesania sat in a chair across from the Minister—she had no idea how else to think of him—and tried to feign indifference. For once in her life, she failed miserably.

 

“I can’t kill you, can I?” she said abruptly, breaking the silence.

 

The Minister inclined his head. “Correct. Your programming does not allow it.”

 

She nearly twitched at the word “programming.” Keep control, damn it. “What do you want from me?”

 

“What I want is to benefit the Empire. My years of exile have not changed that.”

 

“Such a patriot. I’d call it cute if it was anyone but you.”

 

“I am under no illusions,” the Minister said blandly. “I know that I betrayed you, and that you would take your revenge if you could. That will have to wait, however.”

 

“Theatric and cryptic,” Vesania sighed. “You haven’t changed. If only Watcher Ninety were here; then we could have a real reunion.”

 

“Watcher Ninety is dead.”

 

“Mm, not surprising. She did always hate the Sith. Not a healthy position to be in when they dissolve your organization.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“I might have missed her, once, but not anymore.” She leaned forward. “Tell me what you want. My patience is wearing thin.”

 

“Then I will be frank. The Empire needs you, and I know how to free you from the Castellan restraints.”

 

Vesania raised an eyebrow. “Did I mishear, or did you just offer to rid me of this…problem?”

 

“That is correct.”

 

“Interesting. Tell me more.”

 

“It is not a complex process, if you know what to do. First, you will need to obtain certain chemicals. I can provide you with the list. Then, your commands can be reset and overwritten.”

 

“And then I’m going to kill you,” Vesania said pleasantly. “Just so we’re clear.”

 

The Minister folded his hands in his lap. “I see your years as a Sith have given you their pettiness.”

 

“‘Petty,’” she repeated. She took a deep, slow breath, then another. “You used me. Used my power to further Intelligence’s aims, used my need to hide from the Sith to keep me under your control. And when I was too dangerous, you tried to have me killed. That much I would have understood. That much is why I saved you when the Dark Council ordered your execution. But this…this thing in my head, corrupting my thoughts, corroding my will…this I will not bear. Does that truly seem so petty to you?”

 

“Perhaps not,” the Minister conceded. “Very well, then. You obtain the chemicals, I release you from your programming so that you may return to the Empire in strength.”

 

“If you really can deliver on that, I might consider letting you live. Get me off this planet, and I’ll even throw in a live vidstream when I kill Jadus.”

 

The Minister’s mouth twitched. “You’re too kind.”

 

Vesania cracked her knuckles loudly. “Let it never be said that I am not benevolent and magnanimous when the mood strikes me. Consider our arrangement made.”

 

 

 

Let's see if I can get this train rolling again, shall we?

[MilaniGrey]

Yeeessssss!!!!!

*throws confetti every where*

[irishfino]

[pterodactyl screech]

[bright_ephemera]

AAAAAHHHHH

AAAAAHHHHH

*bites on something to keep from screaming*

*continues screaming*

*...in a good way*

[Adwynyth]

Oh my. I may run out of 'E's.

 

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

[Vesaniae]

*looks around furtively* I haven't forgotten about this thread, I swear.

 

 

Chapter Seven – Keys

???

19 ATC

 

 

The room was dark and utterly silent. Vesania stood still, the sound of her breathing seeming to resonate throughout the undefined space like thunder. She tried to reach out to the Force, but found nothing. The glimmer of power that always lingered in the back of her mind was gone.

 

“Welcome back, Cipher Thirteen,” said a voice. It was a woman’s voice, high and reedy, vowels stretched thin around a clipped Imperial accent.

 

Vesania remembered that voice. You, she tried to say, but her mouth refused to work.

 

A spotlight flickered on just out of arm’s reach in front of her. The small circle of illumination pooled around a thin female figure wrapped in a black Imperial Intelligence uniform. She had light red chin-length hair that was arranged to mostly cover the right half of her face, concealing one of her ice blue eyes. Her hands were clasped together in front of her, long, skeletal fingers entwined.

 

“Yes, it’s me,” Watcher Ninety said. “My dear Cipher Thirteen. It’s so very good to see you after all this time.”

 

A thought started to form in the back of Vesania’s mind, then dissolved and drifted away before she could grasp it.

 

“I know that the last time we met was not under the best of circumstances,” Watcher Ninety murmured. “For that, I do apologize. I never wanted this for you. But I had to keep you safe from the Sith, protect you from their corruption. This was the only way.”

 

“Was it really?” Vesania asked, startling herself with the sound of her own voice.

 

Watcher Ninety stiffened, her hands tightening their hold on each other. “I had no choice. Sometimes it is necessary to make sacrifices for the good of the Empire…it was the only way to save your life.”

 

“And if anyone had discovered I could be completely controlled with a single word? Death would be preferable to that existence.”

 

“No one would have known, Cipher. Only I knew, and Keeper, of course. No one else. You were safe.”

 

“Safe and a slave. Why did you do it? Was it so damn important to you to keep me hidden from the Sith?”

 

Watcher Ninety’s single visible eye narrowed. “The Sith are a cancer in the body of the Empire, infecting everything they touch.”

 

“The Sith are what makes the Empire what it is,” Vesania snapped. “Being one of them was my birthright, my destiny. You took that away from me.”

 

“No.”

 

“What?”

 

“Being Sith was never your ‘destiny.’” The light around Watcher Ninety dimmed. “You decide that for yourself.”

 

“Is that so? Funny, I hadn’t noticed, what with everyone trying to control me all my life.”

 

“Don’t pout, Cipher,” Watcher Ninety said absently. “It doesn’t suit you.”

 

“I do not pout, thank you very mu—”

 

The light went out.

 

 

*****

 

 

The man who had once been the Minister of Intelligence watched silently as Vesania’s body twitched. She lay comatose on the floor in his private room at the Edjj, the serum working its way through her. In truth, he had no idea if it would work. It might very well kill her.

 

It was a chance worth taking, however. If the surviving Sith Lords of the Dark Council were to reclaim the Empire from Darth Jadus, they would need more than Vesania Serence. They would need Darth Nox.

 

Another shudder ran through her body. Her eyes remained closed.

 

The Minister sighed softly and turned his attention to his datapad. His message appeared to have been received several days ago while Vesania was gathering the required materials for the serum. He could only hope that it had been received by the right people. He had faith in the operatives who had once served under him, but who knew how many of them had fallen prey to Jadus’ manipulations?

 

Operatives…like Cipher Nine. He had tried so hard to save her. She had slipped away despite his best efforts, dissolved into the shadows that lingered in Jadus’ wake. She had been such a bright young woman when she had first joined Intelligence, one of the best that Watcher Ninety had ever recruited.

 

Now Watcher Ninety was dead, and Cipher Nine was as good as dead, and Cipher Thirteen was an agent no longer. Those three were among the finest Intelligence had to offer, and the Sith had destroyed them all in different ways. In many ways, the Sith had done more damage to the Empire than the Republic ever could. It would take a different breed of Sith to salvage everything.

 

Vesania stirred again, her eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. She seemed to be starting to regain consciousness. A good sign. Everything would be up to her, now.

 

 

*****

 

 

“Nox? Are you even listening to me?”

 

Vesania blinked and looked up. She was sitting on her couch in her quarters in the Citadel on Dromund Kaas. Darth A’tro stood in front of her, arms folded across her armored chest.

 

“Sorry, I must have drifted off,” Vesania said quickly. Where am I? What’s happening?

 

One set of ridges on A’tro’s copper-skinned forehead rose towards her hairline. “You’ve seemed very distracted lately. Plotting something?”

 

“That would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

 

“Yes, well, whatever you’re planning, you’ll have to do it without me around. I have some secret business of my own, and it’s probably going to take quite some time.” A’tro half-smiled down at her. “Don’t let the Empire run into the ground while I’m gone.”

 

“As if it revolves around your continued presence,” Vesania scoffed.

 

“The alternative is that it revolves around you, and that actually scares me.”

 

The scene blurred, and suddenly she was lying on her back on a hard surface. She couldn’t see, and started to panic before realizing that her eyes were closed. She opened them quickly.

 

“Welcome back,” the Minister said quietly. “How do you feel?”

 

Vesania slowly sat up. “I don’t…I don’t feel any different.”

 

“Good. It worked.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I reset your programming, gave you a new keyword.” He leaned over her and held out a hand; she took it and got to her feet.

 

“So now no one can control me?”

 

“Correct.”

 

Vesania rolled her shoulders, easing the discomfort of lying on the floor from her muscles. “Well, no one except for you, anyway.”

 

The Minister clasped his hands together behind his back. “I expect you’re going to kill me now. It’s the only way to be sure.”

 

“I won’t enjoy it.”

 

“Hm. You’re not like most Sith. I hope your time with us had something to do with that.”

 

“I suppose it did.”

 

He looked her calmly in the eyes. “Do what needs to be done, my lord. Don’t let Jadus destroy the Empire we worked so hard to protect.”

 

Vesania nodded. “I promise.”

 

It was a quick, clean kill, a single blaster shot to the head. There were worse ends for one of the finest agents Imperial Intelligence had ever produced. There were better ends for a man who had done everything in his power to serve his Empire. Regardless, it was done. Revenge, of a sort. A loose end securely tied and tucked away.

 

She walked through the Edjj with none of the patrons the wiser that a murder had just been committed in one of the upper rooms. Such activities were entirely normal on Nar Shaddaa, after all, and the music was so loud that nothing short of an artillery barrage would be audible from the main room.

 

As she exited the building, she nearly ran into a Zabrak in well-used heavy armor.

 

“Watch it, human,” he grumbled.

 

“Perhaps you should remove your head from your posterior and pay attention to your surroundings—wait a minute, you’re Normar Lanyt.”

 

He crossed his arms and glared at her. “You got a problem?”

 

Vesania smiled brightly. “I’m here to kill you.”

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

“No, absolutely no kidding happening here. I am completely sincere.”

 

“You think you can take me?”

 

“Well, actually…” she drawled, reaching inside her jacket and resting her fingers on a hidden compartment.

 

Lanyt drew a pair of blasters. He was fast, but not nearly fast enough. He didn’t even have time to look surprised when Vesania ran him through with one blade of her lightsaber.

 

She put the weapon away quickly, her surge of reckless adrenaline fading. That had been incredibly stupid.

 

To hell with it, she thought. My mind is my own again. As soon as I get my money from Malgar, I can leave this planet. And then…it’s payback time.

 

 

I chose not to include a description of Vesania going around and collecting mission items because I figured that if it was incredibly boring for me to think about, it would be incredibly boring for you to read.

[MilaniGrey]

[insert fangirly squee here]

[Adwynyth]

[insert fangirly squee here]

I am in total agreement. My squee, however, must remain manly.

 

SQUEE

Edited March 23, 2014 by Adwynyth

[Vesaniae]

Chapter Eight – The Mask

Red Light District, Nar Shaddaa

19 ATC

 

 

Vesania proceeded into the droid parts shop that housed Malgar’s operations and found it completely empty, which struck her as rather odd. She checked the back room where Malgar had talked to her; nothing. Further exploration revealed a turbolift that claimed to lead to a basement level. She pressed the button with a shrug, drawing her blaster just in case. She considered scanning the area quickly with the Force, then decided against it. Best to remain hidden; anyone could be watching.

 

The turbolift doors opened. Vesania stepped out, then stopped short.

 

She was in a large, rectangular room with a low ceiling and flickering lights that gave the scene a sickly yellow cast. The crates stacked on the far side of the room and the lab equipment near them suggested a spice enterprise. That in and of itself was nothing out of the ordinary for Nar Shaddaa.

 

The bodies were an entirely different matter.

 

They were everywhere, a variety of species in both armor and civilian clothing, sprawled across the floor from one end of the room to the other. Some still clutched blasters; others appeared to have been attempting to run. None appeared to have made it anywhere near the exit.

 

A door beside the lab equipment caught her eye, and she made her way towards it, carefully stepping around the corpses. Of all the things she had been expecting to encounter, this was not one of them. Had Malgar decided to purge his organization? Based on her impression of him, he wasn’t the type to massacre his own people. Then again, one never knew on Nar Shaddaa.

 

Vesania reached the door and opened it, raising her blaster.

 

Beyond the door was a small room that contained a desk and a variety of computer equipment. Malgar’s Zabrak bodyguards lay in a crumbled heap near the door. Malgar himself was half-sitting against one wall, his head lolling forward in a way that suggested he too was deceased.

 

Darth Ravage was leaning against the desk, arms folded across his chest. One corner of his mouth quirked upwards as he looked her way. “Hello, Nox.”

 

She let her shields drop, and the Force came rushing back in a surging tide of mental sensation. “Ravage,” she said. “I see you’ve been busy.”

 

“And I hear that you were working for this scum.” He nodded at Malgar. “I thought I would save you the trouble of resigning.”

 

“You’re too kind,” Nox drawled. “Nothing like a pile of corpses to brighten a girl’s day. I don’t suppose you got me flowers, too?”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“I’m always ridiculous.”

 

“I’m starting to regret the fact that you aren’t dead.”

 

“That reminds me, just how did you find out about that? Not to mention pinpointing my location.”

 

“One of my Intelligence agents received an anonymous message on a secret, encrypted frequency. It seemed legitimate, so I thought I would investigate.”

 

“Fair enough. But coming out here yourself, though…” Nox chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you cared.”

 

“I wanted to get away from Marr for a little while,” Ravage said, seemingly unruffled. “Besides, you would have been suspicious of anyone claiming to represent me whom you did not know personally.”

 

“I know most of your apprentices.”

 

“You also have a tendency to murder them.”

 

“That was just once!”

 

“I thought it best to be cautious.”

 

“That sounds strange coming from you, Ravage. Doesn’t that break some sort of orthodox Sith-y rule?”

 

He half-smiled. “I’ve learned by now that with you, it’s best to forget the rules.”

 

“And don’t you ever forget it.” She glanced down at the bodies on the floor. “Might we take this discussion elsewhere? I don’t want the smell getting into my clothes.”

 

Ravage nodded, moving away from the desk and towards the doorway. “It’s time we left. We need to get back to Vaiken before Marr starts getting notions.”

 

“What sort of notions?” She fell into step beside him as he picked his way across the room of carnage and back towards the turbolift.

 

“I want to strike back at Jadus fast, hard, and soon. I can give you the full details of the situation on our way back.”

 

“And Marr doesn’t agree, I take it.”

 

“He wants to consolidate our forces, gather support from the rest of the Empire that hasn’t been completely taken over.” He stepped into the turbolift with an irritated sigh. “We can’t afford to sit around and wait. If we’re going to defeat Jadus, we need to move now, before he has time to settle.”

 

“And given how well you and Marr tend to function when placed in a room together, I’m guessing that you are accomplishing absolutely nothing.”

 

“Unfortunately. Which is where you come in.”

 

“You need me to keep your focus on the war and not on being at each other’s throats.”

 

“I hate to admit it, but that’s exactly what’s needed. A third voice, one that both of us respect.”

 

Nox raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you respected me?”

 

“It’s not personal.”

 

“Of course not. After all, our relationship has never been anything but strictly professional.”

 

“Nox…”

 

“Yes?”

 

The turbolift doors opened. Ravage shook his head and walked out.

 

That man… Nox thought, chuckling silently. “Shall we do our best to depart this place without being seen?”

 

“I’ve heard worse ideas from you.”

 

“Admit it, you’re glad to have me back.”

 

“No.”

[MilaniGrey]

 

*quietly whistles*

Edited March 29, 2014 by MilaniGrey