"This is Cipher Nine to Watcher Two. Please respond."
Something was wrong.
Why are they not getting my signal?
After a few seconds, the holo fizzed and instead of Watcher Two appearing, it was a droid.
"Contact authorization denied," it said.
Kieyla froze.
What?
Either she had done something, or someone else had done something; the latter was more likely. This was trouble, and the only ones known for causing her trouble were the egotistic fools right above Intelligence.
"This is imperial automated defense corps unit CR-97. By order of Darth Zhorrid, lord of the Dark Council, your ship is now in lockdown," the droid said.
She inwardly groaned.
Not again.
The holo fizzed out and the droid was indeed replaced by the female Sith. Her eyes were a fraction too narrow for her to be in a good mood, which certainly didn't surprise Kieyla. Zhorrid seemed to have a grudge against anything that was so-called Light Side, which was some Force-alignment thing Kieyla really wasn't concerned with.
"Cipher Nine. The last time we spoke, I called you to Korriban. Did you…misunderstand what a privilege that audience was?" Zhorrid asked shrewdly.
Kieyla's eyes narrowed. Not only did this big-headed women talk to her like she was a child, but she also thought their last meeting was a privilege?
I would hardly call being attacked by a bunch of Sith guards a "privilege."
"If I recall, you tried to have me murdered as some…sort of test," Kieyla said stiffly, trying to keep her disdain to a minimum.
Zhorrid's gaze could've burned through a wall in that instant.
"Many would beg for the opportunity to serve one of the Dark Council," she said coldly.
I'm not many.
"You've not impressed me, Cipher," Zhorrid continued, crossing her arms to emphasize it. "You've given me no new information since your mission began, about the murder of Darth Jadus or otherwise."
Kieyla rolled her eyes. Like she had time to go chasing after ghosts of information amongst all this chaos the terror cell network was causing. The Sith noticed her bold move, and Zhorrid's tone sharpened drastically as if she was a hysterical mother trying to get her kids under control.
"When you receive my orders, you'll do as you're told…or I'll have you flayed alive, along with everyone you know. Understood?" she snapped.
Oh for stars sake, I'm not your puppy dog that comes running at your every beckoning.
"My orders come from Keeper, not the Sith," Kieyla said brazenly.
She was getting rather annoyed with these Force-users treating her like a pet and all someone had to do to control her was pick up the leash. It seemed that Zhorrid was expecting such a response; she absentmindedly started scratching her chin with her left hand.
"Perhaps I should kill you for your impudence," she hissed. "But you are useful, so…perhaps I'll kill Keeper."
The sneer that appeared on her face made Kieyla's blood turn cold. If that was a joke, it was not funny. The way Zhorrid said it, like it was no big deal, made her realize that back-talking this Sith was probably not a good idea anymore. Zhorrid would no doubt kill her superior without a second thought, and Kieyla could not allow that.
I can't lose Keeper too. Not like I lost the others.
Still, it was hard to tug against the tightened leash when dealing with such a brat. Zhorrid, seemingly unaware of the thoughts in the Cipher's mind, continued.
"Now. My peers on the dark council acknowledge me, but they don't yet respect me. Not like they did my father."
That's hardly a surprise.
"To secure my position, I must have my father's secrets – the mysteries Darth Jadus never deigned to teach me," Zhorrid said bitterly.
An amused half-smile crossed Kieyla's lips. This Sith was willing to go to any length to earn respect, but she obviously had no idea how to get it.
"I think you're in over your head," the agent mused.
It probably wasn't the best response, considering the threat towards Keeper, but amusing nonetheless. Zhorrid's whole body twisted with rage, her hands balling into fists.
"How dare you?" she snapped. "You're not Sith. You're certainly not my father."
Glad I'm not. I'd hate to see how much worse you were as a child.
"I was his only apprentice, but he favored force blind advisors over his own daughter," Zhorrid hissed bitterly.
The agent was slightly curious about Jadus' reasons for doing so, but she knew the answer was never going to come – he was dead. Kieyla noticed Zhorrid relax just a tad, probably because she had come up with a plan.
"Of course, most of his advisors died with him on the Dominator…but not all," the Sith said slyly, catching the Cipher's interest.
Someone had survived? No, it had been confirmed that there were 100% casualties the day of the explosion. However, Kieyla's question was soon answered.
"Vyord Yanol stayed behind," Zhorrid said with a smirk. "Vyord Yanol fled to Nar Shaddaa."
Perhaps this mission will be worthwhile after all. Why would he run away instead of boarding the Dominator?
There were a number of possibilities. He could've been ordered to, but that wasn't likely. He could've been seeking refuge, but that was equally as unlikely. Fear was always a powerful motive, but his planet of choice was questionable.
"Was he afraid of something? And why Nar Shaddaa?" Kieyla asked.
With the chaos in the sectors caused by the multiple gangs, a suitable place to hide out could undoubtedly be created without being noticed.
"I expect that when Jadus died, Yanol knew no one could keep him safe anymore," Zhorrid replied.
Was that a hint of sincerity in her voice?
"Then again, maybe Yanol conspired with Jadus' rivals. Maybe he was involved in my father's death," she said, eyes flashing with intensity.
Guess not.
"The end result is the same," Zhorrid stated with a shrug, showing just how bored she was getting with this conversation.
It was obvious she really didn't care why Yanol ran away or how he got there.
Why am I not surprised? Sith don't care about anyone except themselves.
"My sources have found his hideout. You will catch him and bring him to me," the Sith ordered, crossing her arms to mark the end of the conversation. "Until then, we are finished."
The holo fizzed out, and the Cipher wondered if there was a way to slice through the override commands that C7-something droid had uploaded to her control system. Probably not, but it was worth a shot.
As a result, Kieyla received a nasty shock that made her whole arm numb.
-
Finding Yanol wasn't been much of an issue; convincing him, on the other hand, didn't go well. Kaliyo wasn't too happy about dragging Yanol's unconscious body all the way back to the ship, but Kieyla managed to find an abandoned speeder that they rode back to the hanger instead of walking.
Once aboard the ship, Kieyla injected Yanol with a knockout drug so he wouldn't wake up and try to escape. As usual, Kaliyo made a beeline to the alcohol storage the instant she was inside. Kieyla tried not to let it bug her, but she still had trouble getting used to her companions constant flamboyant attitude.
There's nothing wrong with fun, but she could try to be professional at least once.
Upon entering the main lobby of her ship, the agent noticed an incoming call on the holo. A familiar face appeared.
"This is Keeper to Cipher Nine. I understand you're running an errand for Darth Zhorrid,"
he said, speaking with his usual formality.
The agent inwardly sighed.
Always straight to the point.
It didn't always bother her, but she didn't even have a chance to return the greeting before Keeper spoke again.
"It may not be my place to know a Dark Council member's business, so I won't ask what she wants," he said coldly. "I only want to advise you to take care."
Kieyla's mind kicked into high gear at his words. Keeper didn't usually talk like this, with a tone of not only utter seriousness, but also a hint of fear. It was barely there, but she could see it. Her superior was a hair too stiff and his eyes were a millimeter too wide. Such details never missed Kieyla's sharp eye, and they often told her the most important things – such as now.
"That's…unusually thoughtful of you, Keeper," the agent said calmly.
Although she would prefer being more direct, it was easy to see that now was not the time. Something was very wrong.
"These are unusual circumstances, would that they were different," Keeper responded.
Now the agent could tell that there was more on the line than just her life. There was something else bugging Keeper, but she didn't have the chance to ask.
"Zhorrid has relocated to Darth Jadus' old chambers on Dromund Kaas," he said quickly, much faster than usual. "She awaits you there. Keeper out."
The holocall was ended before Kieyla could even blink.
What in the stars?
"That was odd," she muttered to herself.
Keeper never hung up on her so fast before, and it seemed like he left out important details. Cipher didn't have time to think more about it as she suddenly heard the shattering of glass followed by an innate series of curses. Her companion had dropped another bottle on the floor. This time, Kieyla vocalized her groan.
"Again? Seriously Kaliyo?" she yelled down the ship's corridors.
"You gonna help me or what?" the Rattaki shouted back.
"Might as well," Kieyla sighed as walked towards the stairs.
One of these days, I'm going to ban alcohol from this ship.
-
When Kieyla arrived at the Citadel, she thought it was going to be just another meeting with the brat. She hired one of the guards on the taxi landing to haul Yanol's limp body to Jadus's chambers. However, what she encountered inside was much worse than she could've expected.
The instant she walked into the hall just outside Jadus' room, Kieyla knew something was terribly wrong. The all too familiar scent of burnt flesh wafted into her nose, a smell commonly found in the torture chambers of the Academy or the warzones of Balmorra. It was mixed with a distasteful scent of scorched cotton and…electricity? Was it even possible to smell that?
Turning to the guard, she quickly gave him a handful of credits as he dropped his cargo to the floor. He seemed surprised at her generosity, but accepted them with a nod and left.
Upon entering the doorway, Kieyla froze in her tracks. Laying on the floor in close proximities to each other were the distorted bodies of five agents. Their clothing was practically melded onto their blackened skin, and their faces were hardly recognizable. Someone, or something, had set them on fire. Cipher thought she saw one of them twitch, and quickly turned her head away, her stomach reeling. Looking up into the room, Kieyla's heart nearly stopped.
Zhorrid stood a few feet away from Keeper, clearly displeased with something. Keeper himself was standing hunched over in pain. Cipher saw a wisp of smoke trail off a hole in the shoulder of his uniform shirt; the skin underneath was bright red and bumpy. Blood trickled out of a deep gash on the right side of his forehead.
"Do you think you've learned your lesson yet, Keeper?" Zhorrid asked.
Her innocent tone was bipolar to the glaring look in her eyes. Before he even had a chance to respond, the Sith raised her left hand and purple lightning bolts shot out of her hand towards Keeper. Kieyla cringed as she watched him collapse to his knees, unable to defend himself from Zhorrid's attack.
"Ah-ahhhh!" he cried out, a sound the sent chills down the agent's spine.
Keeper gasped loudly. His eyes clenched shut and he gritted his teeth as the sparks crackled through his body.
"Yes…my lord," he moaned painfully.
If her feet hadn't been immobile with shock, Kieyla would've marched right up to the Sith and slapped her. As it was, her usually quick mind was overwhelmed with disbelief at what was taking place before her eyes.
"I don't like that name," Zhorrid remarked. "You certainly haven't done a very good job of keeping your agents."
Because you killed them, you witch!
Kieyla shoved down the mental block in her mind and stormed into the room.
"Speaking of which – Cipher Nine! Your superior and I were just chatting," Zhorrid said smoothly as she caught sight of the agent.
Kieyla's fingers brushed against the blaster hanging from her belt. She was itching to whip it out of its holster and blast this spawn from hell in the face. However, the sight of Keeper crouched on the floor stopped her. His weakened condition was concerning.
"Are you alright, sir?" Kieyla asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.
He glanced up at her, and for a split second his expression was a combination of confusion and surprise, but it quickly changed back to its usual formality.
"I'll be fine, agent," Keeper growled stubbornly. "I'll–"
"Speak to me, not to him!" Zhorrid snapped, her hands slicing across her body to display her annoyance at being so blatantly ignored. "He wouldn't be here if not for your lack of respect!"
Kieyla glared at the Sith and took a bold step towards her.
"What's this about?" she demanded, pointing a finger at Keeper. "What has he done to deserve this?"
Zhorrid was slightly surprised at the verbal attack, but held her ground. A sneer crossed her face. Kieyla took note of the malicious pleasure in her tone as she spoke.
"It's not what he did. It's what you did."
The agent tensed up.
So…she carried out her threat after all.
"You see, in our last conversation, you said…s-something that irked me," Zhorrid stuttered as she paced the floor. "I don't remember what."
Kieyla refrained from raising an eyebrow. She knew quite well that it didn't matter to the Sith what she had said; all that mattered was that she had upset Zhorrid – on purpose.
"I thought about having you killed," the Sith said, stopping in front of the table to glare at Kieyla.
She kept her face blank, not wanting to risk Zhorrid striking at her superior again. A sickening smile crossed the Sith's lips.
"But then I thought, 'Who's really responsible here?'" she said with a sarcastic shrug. "And I decided to punish Keeper."
She pointed a finger at the man on his knees, and for a moment Kieyla expected to see lightening again. It was a relief when nothing happened, but the feeling was washed away by anger. The delight in Zhorrid's voice was repulsive. She had enjoyed every second of torture inflicted on Keeper and the other dead agents, and for that Kieyla wanted to kill her.
"Keeper didn't do anything wrong," the agent snarled viciously.
Zhorrid threw her head back and laughed.
"You're truly ignorant of the nature of authority," she said mockingly.
Kieyla's anger flared.
You think Keeper trained me to be opposed to Sith authority? Guess again.
Zhorrid chuckled to herself, but her humor was quickly replaced with a scowl.
"Keeper? You can go," she snapped. "The Cipher and I have business."
He struggled to stand, visibly wincing in pain. Blood from the gash on his forehead had trailed down the right side of his face.
"I appreciate that, my lord," Keeper said slowly. "As for you, Cipher…"
He turned his head to Kieyla and her stomach sank as he caught her gaze. Never before had she seen her superior injured like this before – something more than just physical damage.
"Good to see you alive," he said blankly. "It's getting dangerous."
Kieyla's ears perked up. His voice had faltered at the last sentence, which could only mean one thing. Something far worse had happened in this room before she arrived. The thoughts of what that could be made her shudder.
"I'm…so sorry about this, sir," Cipher said with an apologetic nod.
"I'll be fine. I have kolto sprays in my office," Keeper reassured.
She wanted to object, saying that the gash on his forehead would require more than just kolto, but the agent held her tongue. Keeper's expression hardened.
"Be careful," he warned, his tone laced with sincerity.
As he left the room, Kieyla made a mental note to stop by and check on him before departing for her mission. Zhorrid's voice suddenly brought her back to the present.
"So! Vyord Yanol – is that him?"
Cipher suddenly realized that during her conversation with the Sith, Kaliyo had dragged their unconscious baggage to the opposite corner of the room.
"Or is this another body for my collection?" she asked.
Kieyla's mind grinded to a halt.
What did she just ask me?
"You have a…body collection?" she asked warily, shifting uncomfortably at the thought.
She certainly wouldn't put it past this crazy Sith to have something like that, but ugh – how disgusting. Even Kaliyo seemed caught off-guard by the question. A moment of silence passed while Zhorrid studied their expressions.
"I'm joking, agent," she said flatly, gesturing her slim reassurance.
The Sith seemed disappointed that neither of them had caught on to her sarcasm, but a comment like that was not something Kieyla would ever joke about. It was gross and disturbing. Just like the crooked sneer that had appeared on Zhorrid's face.
"Yanol and I are going to spend some time together. He's going to reveal every secret my father…ever had," the Sith said with delight as she approached the limp body.
Kieyla shuddered at the thought of what that really meant coming from this psycho woman – no doubt it would be a vicious type of torture. She suddenly wished she had just killed Yanol on Nar Shaddaa instead of bringing him here. Whatever Zhorrid planned to do with him was likely a fate worse than death.
"Expect a token of my appreciation. And expect to be called on again, my Cipher" Zhorrid said with a twisted smile.
Your Cipher? Spare me the fake praise.
Kieyla crossed her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at the Sith.
"If you want these terrorists handled, you'll allow me to work," she hissed, making no effort to hide her disdain at the thought of being recalled back.
Zhorrid's eyes flashed.
"No reward, then!" she snapped. "You will continue without my favor."
Fine with me.
"Now leave me to my new advisor – Yanol and I need our privacy" Zhorrid purred deviously.
-
Kieyla beelined out of Jadus' chambers faster than a varactyl. She wanted to be as far away from that Sith as possible.
Thinks she can make me her own personal pet? Ha! In your dreams, Zhorrid.
As they walked out of the Citadel, the agent turned to her companion.
"Go on ahead, I'll meet you back at the ship."
Kaliyo put her hands on her hips and shot Kieyla a distasteful glare.
"Where do you think you're going without me?" she demanded.
Cipher rolled her eyes.
"I'm going to check on Keeper. You really want to come?" she asked with an amused smile, already knowing the answer.
Kaliyo frowned.
"Not my kind of thing," she remarked. "Catch you later, agent."
The Rattataki jumped into the taxi and took off, leaving Kieyla alone on the landing pad. She walked across the walkway connecting the Sith part of the Citadel and Imperial Intelligence Headquarters. A couple of soldiers passed by and loudly wolf-whistled at her, but Kieyla ignored them. She didn't have eyes for other men anymore, and she smiled as a certain individual crossed her mind. Before going inside Headquarters, Cipher stopped by the medcenter on the landing pad and purchased extra supplies.
It didn't take her long to find Keeper's office. All she had to do was follow the blood trail he left behind. Kieyla stopped in the doorway. Her superior was standing on the far side of the room addressing the burn on the shoulder. She would've walked in…except the fact that Keeper had no shirt on caught her totally off guard. Kieyla felt her face grow hot. As awkward as it was, there was no point in backing out now.
"Ahem."
Keeper jumped at her voice and whirled around. The bundle he was holding against his shoulder almost fell out of his hand. The cut on his forehead was still bleeding, but something else caught her gaze. Kieyla suddenly wished she didn't have such an analytic eye. At one point in time, Keeper was probably a champion at staying in shape; that wasn't necessarily true anymore.
"Agent!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Kieyla drew in a sharp breath and walked inside, forcing herself to bury the discomfort in her gut. She put the supplies on the table before turning to face him, and saw him eye the pile curiously.
"What is all that?" Keeper asked.
Cipher straightened up, making sure to not let her eyes stray away from his face.
"I brought extra medical supplies for you, sir," she answered.
Keeper gave her an amused look.
"Thank you, agent, but they won't be necessary," he said, turning away from her to readdress his shoulder.
Keeper was surprised, but also…suspicious? Why? A thought suddenly hit her.
Don't tell me I'm the first one to actually care.
It was possible. After all, selfishness was a common trait amongst many people in the Empire, especially the Sith. Intelligence was different in the sense that they were very mission orientated and were willing to make sacrifices to achieve their goals, but there were exceptions. Right?
Just then, Kieyla saw Keeper flinch and heard him curse under his breath.
"Sir?"
He half-turned towards her and she noticed some of the blood from his forehead had trickled into his right eye. Kieyla gasped and quickly started rummaging through her supplies for a sterile cloth. She found one buried inside a medpac and turned around. Keeper had managed to get the fluid out by blinking repeatedly, and his eye was now slightly puffy from irritation.
Without fully thinking, Kieyla took a step towards her superior and pressed the cloth against his head. It immediately turned a bright maroon color. Keeper flinched and shot her a confused glance. The agent's face flushed red as she realized how close she was standing to him.
Too late now.
To her surprise, Keeper didn't pull away, but rather allowed her to address the gash while he remained focused on his shoulder. Neither of them spoke for a couple minutes. Soon, the bleeding subsided enough for Kieyla to actually see the wound. It wasn't too deep, but it would need more than just a bandage. She took a deep breath to calm her jumpy nerves. This was a situation she had never been in before and it made her nervous.
"Sir, you may need sutures for this," Kieyla said.
She tried to keep her voice steady, but it wasn't easy. This was her superior she was tending to, someone whom she greatly respected and looked up to, but she'd never seen him injured or shirtless before and didn't know how to properly react.
Keeper muttered faintly under his breath. Kieyla caught him glancing at the supplies on the table, and she realized that she had bought the equipment necessary for a procedure.
"I'm assuming you've received medical training, agent?" Keeper asked.
"Yes, sir," she answered quickly, but then faltered.
Was he asking her to stitch him up right here in his office?
As if this wasn't awkward enough already.
In response to her unspoken question, Keeper walked around to the chair on the other side of the table and sat down. Kieyla wasn't sure what to do, so she followed him, sliding the pile to the other side.
"Make it quick, agent," he said sternly.
He can't be serious.
"Um, in here, sir?" she asked with a squeak, surprised that he would even allow that.
Keeper looked up at her confused expression. Kieyla saw the corners of his lips twitch, as if he was going to smile, but his face remained blank.
"Yes, Cipher, now move quickly," he ordered. "You must return to your mission as soon as possible."
"If you insist, sir," she said warily.
As a precaution, Kieyla gave him a pain-killing adrenal to keep him from squirming while she worked. It didn't take long to stitch the gash back together, but there were questions floating about in the agent's mind that she couldn't get rid of. Images of the blackened agents' bodies kept flashing in her mind. At one point, she actually shuddered and accidently poked Keeper in the head with a needle.
"Agent! What in the world–"
"I'm sorry!" Kieyla exclaimed. "I'm so sorry, sir!"
She suddenly realized her left hand was trembling. Was she really so shaken up about this? She had already been in a warzone, for stars sake, this wasn't that big of a deal.
Except that I didn't know any of those terrorists personally…
Keeper sighed deeply.
"Cipher, if you are wondering about what occurred in Jadus' chambers, you only need to ask," he said calmly.
Kieyla was silent for a few minutes while she finished the suturing. A part of her was curious, but another part told her it might be better not to know. She hated Zhorrid enough already, but still.
"Why did she kill those other agents? They had absolutely nothing to do with this," Kieyla snarled bitterly.
A wave of guilt washed over the agent. Those other operatives had died because she had thought it would be amusing to talk back to a Sith.
Smooth move, Kieyla. Real smooth…
She caught Keeper's gaze. His expression was unreadable, as usual, but she could feel him studying her every move.
"I don't blame you for disliking Zhorrid, agent, but you must learn to hold your tongue in the presence of a Sith," he stated.
Kieyla's eyes widened. Was she really so easy for him to read?
"What I will tell you is this. Zhorrid used them as an example for what she will do if anyone else from Intelligence treats her as you did. She particularly blamed your apparent attitude on me for not training you properly," Keeper explained.
He didn't sound as angry as Kieyla was expecting. In fact, it was almost like he was pleased with the fact that she actually had the guts to do stand up to a Sith. Cipher gave him a curious look, and Keeper gave her a small nod. The corners of her lips turned upward.
So he's proud of me after all.
Of course, Keeper would never admit such a thing – it would get him killed. Still, it felt pretty damn good to be recognized for doing something crazy. It helped with the guilt of indirectly killing the other agents.
It's not like I knew any of them, but I still feel bad.
After applying one final anti-infectant, Kieyla stepped back to let Keeper stand up. The burn on his shoulder was no longer inflamed, so whatever he had put on it worked. He proceeded to redress himself, during which Kieyla turned away. Once finished, he turned back to her.
"You've done well so far, agent. Even though your actions caused the deaths of others, your exceptional skills have already proven you irreplaceable in comparison."
Kieyla was about to thank him, but stopped and backtracked over the words, glancing at him quizzically.
"Is that a compliment, sir?" she asked.
She honestly had no idea how to interpret the statement. Keeper chuckled quietly, surprising the agent to find out he actually had a sense of humor.
"Think of it as a commendation for your misplaced courage," he said evasively, giving her an extremely rare half-smile.
Kieyla grinned.
"I will do that, sir," she said with a nod.
With a silent wave, Keeper dismissed her. Kieyla left swiftly and let her mind wander as she walked back out to the taxi pad.
Yes, other agents died because of me, but I can accept that. If no one ever stands up to the Sith, what's to stop them from taking full control of the galaxy? Someone's got to put them in their place.
The image of Keeper's smile crept into her mind, and the agent chuckled to herself.
He's not as stoic as I thought; just hides it like the rest of us.
Kieyla's face fell.
He reminds me of dad…
As the taxi took off into the air, her mind took over. The memory she had was faint, but it was there – a peaceful, golden meadow where the agent, as a youngster, played with five other faceless children. Two other people, her parents, stood not far off watching them. The young Kieyla ran up to her father, and he swooped her up in a giant bear hug.
But that's all I remember. Who were those other kids?
It was something the agent hadn't told anyone about, especially not Kaliyo.
I would never hear the end of it from her.
Jumping out of the taxi seat, Kieyla walked into the spaceport to the docking bay where her ship, "The Phantom," sat waiting. The agent went inside to find her companion in the bridge, sitting in the captain's chair with her feet propped up on the table and yet another bottle in her hand.
"Where we going now, agent?" Kaliyo asked in a casual voice.
Kieyla rolled her eyes at the sight.
"I'll go call Watcher Two and find out," she said.
Approaching the holocom, Cipher paused a moment before putting through the transmission.
Maybe one day, after this is all over, I'll find those kids again and figure out who they are or what happened to them. Maybe I'll even find my parents…