Chapter 1: The Assassin's Prize and Complications
Deep within the Oroboro nest Vector Hyllus stood frozen, dark eyes staring unblinkingly ahead. Though he saw nothing but the wall of the cave, distant images and sounds flooded his senses, as though he were part of the faraway battle and not merely a mental witness. Through the many eyes of his small flying brethren, he watched as a torrent of blaster fire streamed out the open doors of House Cortess, bolts nearly striking the two sprinting figures dashing for their lives across the massive courtyard. The mission was in jeopardy. Agent's cover must have been exposed.
The tiny, fly-sized Killiks dared to travel no further. They flew high above, circling like black clouds as they rode on thermal currents just beyond the gate of the royal house. Through them, Vector silently observed as Cipher Nine, and her companion began to cut a bloody swath through Cortess' guards as they fled. Blaster fire sang. Sparks flew. Enemy auras flared and burst apart like miniature supernovas in their final death throes.
A stray blaster bolt clipped Cipher's side, knocking her onto the pavement. The Rattataki scowled at the gunner who had shot her companion and leaped at him with rockets engaged, balled fist ready to strike. However, the gunner seemed to anticipate a counterattack. When the alien woman landed, he smacked the butt of his blaster cannon across the side of her face. The Rattataki's grey head whiplashed to the side, and she stumbled backward dazed and bloodied.
As the scene played through his mind, Vector felt his lips tug down. He was momentarily pleased with his body's innate muscle memory. Gesticulation in the nest was subtle, complex, and rendered many facial displays unnecessary; most humanoid expressions had been forgotten. A verse in the Song of the Universe soured though, overshadowing Vector's small moment of happiness.
If Agent failed—and it seemed like a growing possibility—no help would arrive. Presently, he could offer the women no aid. The generators powering the shield made any direct assault on House Cortess impossible, and the Killiks would not attack without support, fearing the genocidal retribution of the royals.
He watched Agent, now on her feet with red staining her right side, prepare to throw a flash grenade at a second gunner and pair of guards who had wandered into the fray, drawn by the sound of blaster fire. The odds were looking grim. His frown deepened.
Touching steepled fingers to the center of his forehead, Vector disrupted the connection to quiet the discord. He did not wish to watch the women die outnumbered and alone. The bond dimmed to a distant buzz, the information reachable but purposely ignored for the moment. An unfortunate turn of events. Shame, the mission had held promise.
The nagging tug of a hundred little voices murmured mutely, attempting to gain his attention. Vector ignored the call. The nest had an insatiable sense of curiosity, especially when it came to death and the dying. It wasn't usual for the Killik Gathers to bring back wounded animals and individuals, not to perform a Joining but rather to hear and remember their last song before recycling the remains.
The nest pitied creatures who died alone, unable to comprehend what it was like to suffer a solitary death. The inquisitiveness was beautiful and kind, as the dying song would be remembered, but it was also sorrowful. He could not watch today.
It wasn't until the Song of Welcome began that Vector willingly reopened the bond to its fullest, curious as to who the nest could be singing salutations too. Immediately, a multitude of images swirled through his mind in a storm. The flow of information was unrestrained and unorganized, like a datapad full of files being tossed in his lap; the Kind's way of scolding him for not heeding their call the first time. Collecting the different perspectives, he began to weave the memories into a cohesive event:
Blood. The screams of dying men. Grenades exploding in brilliant halos of fire. Agent stabbing herself in the thigh with a kolto injection, needle cap stuck between gritted teeth. Red, furious sparks igniting the air. The Rattataki yelling insults as she wiped away the blood running into her eyes from the bruising slice on her forehead.
Auras burning bright and hot. Agent calmly aiming; a hole appearing in the center of a gunner's forehead, his aura rupturing into nothingness as he pitched forward. Running and gasping, the women sprinted to the waiting speeder beyond the gate. Agent leaped on the machine grabbing for the handlebars while her companion jumped on behind and wrapped an arm around Cipher's waist. They were off zooming over the dirt, the Rattataki firing her blaster pistol with her free hand until the vehicle raced beyond the hill and House Cortess was out of sight.
How unexpected, he had misjudged their tenacity. The song rose in volume, welcoming Cipher Nine and her companion as they skidded to a halt at the mouth of the cave. Vector went to receive them, able to smell them before they came into view. The sulfuric stench of grenade smoke and the metallic tang of spilled blood clung to the women, wafting into the cave and permeating the nest with the smell of battle. Agent came striding toward him with the Rattataki following directly behind.
"Our observers saw what happened. Why did Cortess turn on you? How can we help?" he asked.
"Turns out Baroness Chay is working with the terrorists," Agent informed.
"The Baroness? This is…unexpected," he replied calmly.
They started to formulate a plan as Agent tended to herself and her companion. Cipher listened, engaging in conversation even as she grabbed the Rattataki by the chin, cleaned the weeping slice on the woman's forehead, and smeared kolto gel across the ruptured skin with the pad of her thumb. The Rattataki complained, pushing away hands that only returned to continue the treatment, insisting that she'd had worse, however, Agent's stern expression and flaring aura left little room for argument. The women seemed familiar with each other, their scents mingled.
The Hive was abuzz with news from the recent skirmish and sang excitedly, seeing an opportunity in the sudden turn of events. Synapses tingling like electric currents, Vector was flooded with information about the disloyal house. The Hive illustrated what to do.
The soft creatures of House Cortess—those like himself—had come and built gigantic beasts of metal and electricity: the generators. Like a fly on a wall, he could see the Cortess facility and the mechanisms housed within as though he had been there before. In a sense he had, Killik spies had infiltrated the building long ago.
The Kind disliked machinery and found its cold taste and hollow songs discomforting, but their senses discovered a weakness in the royal's defenses. The pliable wires and hair-thin electrodes within the generators were akin to a circulatory system. Killik fingerlings could easily destroy the internal components, leaving Cortess vulnerable.
Normally, Vector wasn't one for an aggressive rebuttal, but House Cortess had proven to be traitors to the Empire. Primal reasons came to him as well and reverberated in his skull as the Hive's needs were sung: expand, grow, be fruitful and multiply.
He attempted to subdue the base logic of the Hive as he described to the women the best course of action, explaining how Agent and himself could carry in the fingerlings and wreak havoc on the delicate machinery. Still, the primal thoughts lingered.
"You're will'n to fry some of your little buddies to help us out, huh? Touching sacrifice. Makes me wonder why the nest knows so much about Cortess' defenses in the first place," the Rattataki mused aloud.
"We've been studying Cortess for some time. We've been thorough," he replied monotonously.
The partial truth seemed sufficient; gray lips curled upward at his words, but the expression wasn't kind. Vector silently watched the dim, dark mauve and gray electromagnetic aura fluctuate in tight, even waves around the Rattataki. Kaliyo Djannis.
Underneath the grit of battle, the Rattataki's true scent was evident: acrid and biting like pickled space worm. It stung his nose—as it had during their first meeting—and left a sour taste in his mouth. Despite Kaliyo's skepticism of him and the Kind, she seemed to consider the mission at hand a farce having joked about stealing the Barron's prized beasts earlier.
Cipher Nine seemed less troubled by his extensive knowledge of House Cortess. She listened to him, alert eyes scanning his face as he relayed what the Hive knew. The brown of her irises gave off a muted spectrum, faintly he could make out a circular line along her white sclera. Unlike her companion, Agent smelled of honeyed spice similar to the gold membrosia brewed by the Kind: sweet, heady, and distracting.
"So, miniature saboteur bugs, is it?" Cipher questioned, stroking her chin as curious yellow sparks flickered through her aura in thought.
"Yes, there are times when smaller bodies prove useful," he admitted.
"Very well," she agreed after a moment of consideration, "I assume you're ready to back me up?"
"Yes," Vector said inclining his head, "if you allow us to fetch the fingerings and our effects quickly."
She nodded once and turned to speak to her companion as he excused himself. The women's voices vibrated against the chambers of the nest as he headed deeper into the cave to gather his equipment. Although the spongy propolis covering the stone absorbed most of the sound, the gift of heightened hearing allowed him to understand scant bits of the Rattataki's loud words.
"Freaky…bug-brain…outta here," Kaliyo's voice echoed distantly.
Vector returned—with a pocket full of fingerlings and his Killik vibrostaff in hand—to find Agent seated by the entrance of the cave alone. Her wounds had vanished, and the minty, tingling scent of kolto hung in the air. Back to him, she sat cross-legged fiddling with the equipment in her lap.
Agent must have heard his approach because she turned to spare him a glance, one eye now a burning orange. The iris seemed to glow in the shade of the cave's mouth. She greeted him with a silent nod and returned to her work. He neared and saw the small vials of cosmetics lying on the side of her thigh.
"At your service," he prompted.
"I see, give me a moment," she replied.
"Your companion is absent," he noted. The Rattataki's bitter scent still remained, but no trace of her aura could be found; "She was welcomed to stay here, it shouldn't take us long to disable the generators."
"She'll be fine. Off to steal the Barron's prized thrantas I imagine," Agent said, indicating that Kaliyo had not been joking.
He watched as fingers deftly plucked the hololens from her other eye before placing the contact into a container. Agent then rubbed her face with a piece of white cloth, dark beige streaks were left behind on the material.
"May we inquire as to what you are doing?" he asked politely, as time was of the essence.
"I don't need to look the part of a noble anymore," she answered simply and began to pack the supplies away into the pockets of her utility belt. Rising to her feet, she turned to look at him and continued, "Besides, it's time House Cortess saw the true face of the Empire."
Without any enhancement, shadows made razors of prominent cheekbones and bled purple circles under sharp eyes. The discolored complexion could be attributed to insomnia or stress, not uncommon ailments among those deployed in the field. However, the eerie orange of Agent's eyes betrayed the underlying cause. Not unusual characteristics for those who directly interacted with the Sith.
He remembered seeing a similar effect take place in colleagues during his years of formal education at the Imperial Diplomatic Academy. Admittedly, the memories of that time were hazy, but for persons in the Imperial Service, such a transition wasn't considered uncommon. Being dutiful to the Empire required sacrifice, as he was well versed having traded much of his humanity to pursue diplomatic relations for the sake of the Empire. Duty came before self though Vector didn't consider his exchange a detriment, rather the opposite.
Still, the change her brush with the force caused wasn't terribly drastic and her attempts to conceal it were futile. To him, Cipher's electromagnetic aura remained the same and bared her song to the universe in brilliant color. Few things could hide the truths the Hive revealed.
A dark, crimson sphere of influence radiated from the core of her body. It burned in an elliptical shape—a common trait among all humanoids—from the crown of the head and ended at the center of her pelvis. Red transitioned outward like a setting sun, turning into a misty orange field. Her aura, like all others, spanned in an arms-length around her on all sides and ended in a light orange corona. Like the lines of a magnetic field, the corona dipped inwards slightly at the top of her head and bottom of her feet. He noticed yellow sparks, not unlike Alderaanian glowbugs, also shimmered through the field of her aura frequently, as they did now.
"You're staring," Agent noted with a slow-growing smile, "appreciate the change?"
Her voice was different, higher and more lilting than when they'd been formulating their plan. He didn't know what to make of it.
"To us, you appear much as you did before. Your aura and pheromones are unchanged," he answered truthfully.
"Excuse me?"
"Apologizes, we have been of the nest a long time and forget that the signals we detect are often unidentifiable to others. To another, the transition might be more startling," Vector explained.
"Startling," Cipher repeated, seeming to taste the word.
Her lips turned down.
"Is our assessment offensive?" he asked.
"It wasn't what I was expecting," she answered and turned away to walk toward the speeder.
He wondered if he had insulted her, but the sphere of her aura remained unmoved. Nimbly, she sat on the speeder and Vector followed taking his place behind her, just as her Rattataki companion had done. Agent reached to start the vehicle but paused to glance at him, noticing he had scooted back to the far edge of the seat.
"Kaliyo holds my waist, you know," she said giving him a torrid glance, "keeps her steady."
The mellifluous scent her pores emitted seemed more pungent, and he was unsure what to say. Her heated gaze was making him uncomfortable, and Vector felt certain he was missing important social cues. He had wrongly assumed Agent would be straightforward during their mission, as she had appeared to be just moments before.
"We'll keep that in mind," Vector said and considered holding his breath instead to keep the sweetness from addling his senses.
He hadn't dealt with unaltered humans directly in a long time. Orange eyes settled on him, and Vector realized she was searching for emotional tells; his blank face offered none.
The burning warmth in her gaze extinguished and went cold, like flipping a switch. The taste of frost hung in the air as blue sparks peppered through her field. When Agent spoke again her words were blunt, voice flat; reminiscent of how she had acted previously.
"The Killiks don't let you out of the nest much do they? Hold on," she ordered, grabbing his hand and putting it on the jut of her pelvis threatening, "If you fall off down a ravine I won't go back."
He wondered why she hadn't simply said that before. With care and respect, he took hold of her other hip.
"Understood," Vector inclined his head, "please be more direct with us in the future."
They were off in an instant, racing over the fragrant, sun-drenched grasses toward House Cortess' generators. He forgot to hold his breath, but Agent's full-throttle style of driving left him breathless after the first hairpin turn anyway.
Chapter 2: The Fall of the House of Cortess
'The Hive is secure. The injured will be tended to and transformed, the dead will feed the larvae,' Vector informed.
'Couldn't have happened to a nicer family,' Agent remarked, glancing at the gathering insectoids.
'They will become valued members of the nest.'
The memory of the conversation between them was fresh and its song was sung and shared throughout the Hive on repeat. Today had been a victory. However, the more Vector considered her words, the more facetious Agent sounded. Joining the Killiks was usually considered abhorrent to other species. It was doubtful she considered the transformation a positive.
Those that did not know the joy of sharing one mind often feared what they did not understand. Yet, when he glanced at her, the bright yellow sparks that flitted through the field of Cipher's aura seemed to indicate interest rather than disgust. That much he could understand, but the exact intent of the sparks he could not. Still, she didn't appear to find his brethren unbearably grotesque.
With her mission complete they were both awaiting new orders. He had already submitted House Cortess' files to Imperial Intelligence; the immediate response had been civil but incomplete. Their superiors were probably deliberating their next course of action.
Certainty, the dismantlement and subsequent transformation of House Cortess was not the solution Intelligence had envisioned, but the job was complete. Denri Ayl, the financial backer of the Eagle, was dead and the instigating traitor, Baroness Chay, executed by her own husband.
Both the victory and the spoils belonged to Cipher, and it had been her choice to allow the nest to integrate the fallen house into the Hive's ranks. Vector approved of the decision, it signaled a small step toward an Imperial and Killik alliance. Thoughts streamed through his mind briefly; Killik emissaries detected the vibration of transmission signals, the Empire was watching and would probably contact Agent and himself shortly.
Rather than leave the new nest and head back to House Thul to find her wayward companion, Agent stayed to observe the change her recent gift was undergoing. He remained by Cipher's side, watching her watch the Killiks swarming House Cortess. She showed no dismay at the flurry of activity around her, even as the Killik scavengers dismembered the dead for sustenance.
Fearlessly, Cipher Nine walked among the towering insectoids, stopping to stare at the Nest Weavers as they began to line the many columns of House Cortess in chewed, regurgitated propolis from their mandibles. The fine hairs that lined their lanky limbs allowed his Killik brethren to scale upwards.
High above, the Killiks crawled up columns and over the walls, covering every marble surface in thick layers of dark, spongy mush. Even the vast, vaulted ceiling was coated until it began to drip wet, brown pulp that splattered in globs onto the stone floor below. In a few hours, this secure location would be completely transformed into a soft, warm nursery.
Agent's aura shimmered with light, seemingly curious yellow sparks as they neared the line of Joiners carrying egg sacs bundled in pulp baskets; young ready to be transplanted into the new nest immediately. The Hive saw the brightness in Agent's aura too. One female Joiner dressed in House Cortess fashion—a new nest sister—stepped out of line with her empty basket and came toward them.
"The Kind interest you?" the Joiner asked Agent.
Though only one mouth spoke, the question was emitted from them all. Any peaceful curiosity pertaining to the Hive was welcomed and they had taken notice.
"Perhaps," Agent answered after her eyes settled on the Joiner's attire briefly.
Thousands of minds listened. Orange eyes intense, yellow sparks cascaded around the field of Cipher's aura. She appeared to be considering them and Vector hoped she saw the benefits the Kind could bring to the Empire, as an outsider Imperial's word would carry more weight than his own to the Diplomatic Service.
Nine continued, "When I turned this place over the nest, I didn't think the setup would begin with such…immediacy."
"You dislike our modifications?" the Joiner asked the question they all felt and moved nearer.
"No, I wouldn't say that," Agent admitted, eyes flicking upward momentarily to watch the meandering Killiks above, "frankly, I'm rather amazed by your efficiency, callousness and all."
Vector frowned at her words. The Hive as a whole was unaffected.
"We waste not," the Joiner replied stepping closer, nearly brushing Agent's toes with her own, "we are very pleased by your willingness to aid the nest."
"So I've been told," Agent said and yellow sparks dimmed as she took a step back, wary of the sudden closeness.
Cipher's hand twitched, burgundy sparks licked the air before fading. Although she did not grab her weapon, the hovering fingers made her intentions clear. Interest did not imply trust. The female Joiner blinked as the Hive's awareness was fed to her. Equipped with new instructions, the nest sister rigidly stepped back like a puppet on a string.
"Apologies, we have our duty to attend to," the Joiner said.
"Of course," Agent dismissed with a sharp nod, a sizable distance now between them.
Turning stiffly, the new Joiner seamlessly fell into single file with the others who held empty baskets ready to be filled with more young. Agent's vigilant eyes watched the Joiner leave, yellow sparks peppering the air around her once more.
Within the network of minds, Vector searched for insight to the sudden retreat. The female Joiner's recent memory of an overwhelmingly sweet aroma surfaced, compelling as a newly opened blossoms in spring. Vector understood and immediately shared his own thoughts of Agent's unusually saccharine scent.
'She smells sweet. why?' he asked the many minds around him.
'Sickness,' came the response, pulled from the deep, old memories of the nest consciousness.
Synapses firing, visions of Sith flashed through his head in rapid succession. The few reminiscent fragments the Hive had collected over the many generations knitted together: burning red eyes, suffocating bruised-black auras, screaming electrons, and gnashing teeth all accompanied by a sickly-sweet scent. The smell the Hive recalled was not a direct match to Agent's—the memory was too overripe like the breath of decay
Still, the voices sang one word over and over, 'Beware .'
He considered this warning as Agent's holocom rang. She did not dismiss him, so he followed her beyond the doors of House Cortess. A hologram of Keeper appeared in the palm of Agent's hand and he congratulated them on their success.
Vector listened, surprised but pleased to join the conversation when Keeper acknowledged him, and informed them both of the changes that had taken place in their assignment. So, he had not been wrong. Their Imperial superiors had been deliberating their recent success. Moreover, he had been given a new assignment to Imperial Intelligence.
The nest sang with joy and wonder at the news. They were curious about the soft, little outsiders who wanted their Dawn Herald among their ranks. Vector shared the nest's sentiments.
"Welcome aboard, Vector," Agents aid once the communication ended, "I think we'll find a suitable use for your talents."
"Thank you for your professionalism, " he replied inclining his head, happy that the recent change to his assignment seemed supported, "we look forward to assisting you."
She gave a small, quick smile. It seemed well meant, as her aura remained bright. He tried to reciprocate the expression, lips twitching upward. The response was noticeable and unexpected, skeptical gray clouded the spectrum around her.
"What, forget how to smile?" she asked sharply.
"Yes," he admitted without hesitation.
White sparks of confusion lit the air around her before fading. This was not the answer she had expected.
"Work on it," Nine instructed.
"We will."
With that, she turned and headed toward the waiting speeder. Vector followed suit.
Chapter 3: Travelling to the Eagle's Nest
"Hey, bug's life," Kaliyo greeted.
Her voice was loud and perfectly clear from the doorway, indicating she had overridden the lock to the shared sleeping quarters.
Back to the door sitting cross-legged near the entrance of the room, Vector made no move. He heard but did not respond to the Rattataki, as he was not all there. His head was too full and far away, concentrating on the remote pull of the Hive.
Alderaan was light-years away now, the distance growing with each passing moment as the ship headed away from the core worlds and toward their next destination in the mid rim: the Eagle's Nest on Nal Hutta. The terrorist plot thickened, and he was excited to begin working with Imperial Intelligence so directly.
Ever since he had completed the Joining, the Imperial Diplomatic Service had maintained sparse contact via mail courier, ceasing all communication through holocom. It wasn't difficult to understand that he was considered a pariah to the Imperials; despite the fact that his every action had been to promote the influence of the Empire.
His appearance was too alien now, speech too altered, and his credibility was tarnished because of it. After the Joining, his peers couldn't even bear to look at his face. It was hard not to feel offended that his transition was viewed with such disdain, as he offered his superiors nothing but benefits from the nest consciousness. Such was the political game; he tried not to take it personally. However, Agent's arrival marked a change, new possibilities were open now.
Vector had meant what he said to Agent upon their departure, he would miss the nest, but the separation would be manageable. Still, he had not anticipated how accustomed he had become to being one, how poignantly he would miss floating unrestricted in the Hive's subconscious.
It was awkward sharing information through speech and gesture alone, so much was lost in translation. To cope with the change in order to perform as an efficient crew member, Vector would need to find the many fragments of his former identity and coalesce them back into a single mind. The process was not yet complete, it might never be.
Normally, Joining entailed that all knowledge the mind possessed was gradually poured into the collective and shared unanimously. Most Joiners became drones or nest sisters, their one life melded with many to be remembered, cherished, and sung by all.
A Joiner's mind was cleaned of the clutter living a singular existence created. They lived a simple life as part of a greater whole. However, a normal Killik or Joiner could never leave the nest. As the Hive's connection wanned, an average member would become disoriented—like a child who had lost its mother—and they would forget to eat, drink, and sleep. They had no sense of individuality, no notion of self-preservation.
To leave the nest required a concept of self. Vector Hyllus as a whole did not exist; he was a collection of memories—behavior patterns, abilities, and predispositions—that remained from the time before Joining. The pieces gave an impression of selfhood, a place to begin life anew as Dawn Herald. He was many, as not all of Vector Hyllus could be found. Not all of what had been could be remembered. Memory was not infallible. There were gaps.
Parts of his personality, traits, and talents had to be contrived, pulled from the various remembrances of the Hive. He—they—became the closest resemblance to what had existed in this mind before Joining.
Together, they were a new and better Vector Hyllus. One that retained his past dedication to the Empire and yearning to learn of alien cultures, but now supplemented with a Killik Warrior's instinct and senses. Still, there was much to relearn. Vector hoped that by interacting with others that he would remember more of his previous self.
The connection to the Hive was weakening. The phantom rub of mingling thoughts brushed his consciousness. Distant voices sang in reassuring tones to soothe him as his individuality became more solidified. There was so much information regarding his identity, it was difficult to contain in a single head without consistent feedback from the Hive. At this distance, there was no continuous feed to help back up his thoughts. The limited connection gave him a sense of isolation, but such was the burden of a Dawn Herald.
' Gone, but not alone, ' the murmur of a thousand voices buzzed softly, fainter with each passing moment, ' never alone. '
"Hey, it's rude to leave a woman waiting," Kaliyo drawled, interrupting his concentration again, "what'do I gotta do, wiggle my antenna?"
Vector drew a sharp breath and opened midnight eyes. The thoughts from the Hive faded instantly, becoming an unintelligible, low hum in the back of his mind, like the white noise from a distorted holofeed. For the first time in many years, Vector felt alone. To be an individual meant one had to deal with a certain amount of silence. Chest tightening at the realization, he felt tears prickle his eyes.
As the wetness gathered, Vector was reminded once again that he hadn't left the nest since the transformation. Trepidation was normal, old memories were likely to ignite, and an emotional response was possible. He had sought the safety of the sleeping quarters for a reason and had asked not to be disturbed, not wanting anyone to witness a lapse in composure during his first true act of separation from the Hive.
Agent had agreed to his request, but his preparations had not been enough to ward off Kaliyo. Vector had no time to savor the salt and sorrow he'd forgotten he could produce. Blinking away the dampness, Vector stood, face neutral despite the feelings that cluttered his mind and clouded his aura.
"How may we be of assistance?" Vector replied monotonously, turning to see Kaliyo leaning languidly against the metal door frame.
"I interrupt something?" The question was callous and gray eyes looked him up and down before settling on his face.
"Nothing of importance," he lied, disliking her smirk.
"Bet you were talk'n to your bug pals, huh? Don't tell me, you're homesick already," her sneer grew.
Kaliyo was more perceptive than he had given her credit for. Gray eyes never left his. He stared at her, watching the murky aura around her fluctuate. Dim, deep red radiated in jagged waves from her dark mauve core, emitting from the center of her heavily armored chest and ignited ruddy sparks around her field that streaked like embers across a smoky sky. The pointed spectrum brushed against the edge of his aura as sharply as briars scratching skin.
"Our transition to the ship is going well, we are fine," he assured, "we appreciate your concern, but it is unnecessary."
"Uh-huh," Kaliyo pushed, nodding toward the center of the room, "gonna let me in?"
The question was late considering she was halfway in the door, but Vector inclined his head and moved to stand by the desk in the far corner.
"See you didn't do anything to your side of the place yet," she noted glancing around the room as she entered,"but I guess there's always time to add an egg chamber or two, right?"
"Is there something you wish to discuss?" Vector asked, ignoring her jeers, "As you mentioned, we have yet to fully move in and would like too."
"Yeah, that's just what I was checking up on," Kaliyo said plopping down onto the lower left bunk, his assigned bed.
Lounging with hands folded behind her ash-colored head, she swung booted feet onto the mattress, leaving long dirty skid marks behind on the coverlet.
Giving him a pointed look she asked, "How you like'n your new digs? I mean it's not a cave or anything, but if you really start feel'n homesick, lemme know. Sure I could find a hole to put you back in."
"We find adjusting to life above ground enjoyable, but it is kind of you to consider us and our needs, " Vector attempted to force a small, pleasant smile—he'd been practicing as per Agent's request—not about to return Kaliyo's hostility.
"Oh, trust me, I am look'n out for you," the Rattataki woman said smiling unkindly, "Agent might pretend to accept this little three-some we got go'n on, but you don't fool me."
"We understand we cause you discomfort, but we are here to serve the Empire," he reassured.
A sharp, barking laugh left her.
"I don't give two kriffs who you serve, those pits you call eyes tell me all I need to know."
Kaliyo stood and sauntered over to him, the crest of her head barely reached his collarbone. Metal sang against flesh as she gave his cheek a sharp pat, the duralium palm of the glove chilled his skin. He did not flinch, knowing the reaction would have been seen as a weakness in the eyes of someone like her.
"I'll be watching Bugboy," she said with a half smirk.
Of that he had no doubt.
When Kaliyo left, Vector relocked the door and wrinkled his nose at the bitterness that hung in the air. He would have to adapt to the smell as they shared the same room, but he wouldn't grow acclimatized in a day's time.
Quickly rummaging through his effects, he found the incense the nest had given him as one of a few parting gifts. It was a meditation aid and he lit the perfume. The incense defused, filling the small room with the nest's earthy dampness and faint traces of Killik pheromones. Kaliyo's scent remained but was overpowered for now by the smell of home.
Returning to his position on the floor, Vector closed dark eyes and tried to establish connection with the nest again. By now the Phantom had traveled too far beyond Alderaan's orbit to speak at length to his kin. No matter how he concentrated, the connection was distorted like ripples across a pond and came in waves.
The Hive could still feel his need even at such a distance, and offered the basest of memories for comfort: the musk of the egg chamber, the heady taste of gold membrosia, and the fresh scent of dried dew in the early morning sun. So far away, yet the Hive's love radiated among the cosmos, streaming out to touch their distant, traveling child—never alone.
This time, Vector did not stop the wetness that tracked down his cheeks. Instead, he dipped the pads of his fingers into the rivulets and brought the dampness to his lips. Tasting a combination of water, electrolytes, and proteins, Vector sighed softly and savored the peace the nest provided for a short time as he gathered himself in meditation.
Chapter 4: The Cost of Defending the Empire
The mission was complete. The Eagle was dead, and Darth Jadus captured. Vector had not accompanied Agent on her quest. However, he had read the final report. The mission had been accomplished and the terrorist threat ended, but at a terrible cost.
So many civilians lost. The death toll was staggering and the estimate only grew as the cleanup continued. Worst still, Darth Jadus hadn't been the one who fired the Eradicators. Instead, Cipher Nine had pulled the trigger.
Report file in hand on his datapad, Vector walked onto the bridge of the Phantom. Agent was in her command chair, having input the coordinates to their next destination; they were to return to the Imperial Fleet for maintenance and a required holiday.
Kaliyo lounged in the communications seat to Agent's right, legs thrown over the armrest. Hues of rosy pink radiated from the Rattataki's dark mauve core as she finished her story and ignored his presence.
"So then I told him, that ain't milk. Ferrazid's sure as shit don't have utters, just one big one," Kaliyo said and cackled loudly once, Agent's lips curled up a little. "Idiot drank it anyway, should have seen the look on his face."
Silence fell for a beat.
"Agent," he prompted, "when you are not busy, may we have a moment of your time? We have read the final report from your last mission and would like to review it with you."
Cipher turned her head to look at him. The Rattataki's song soured as pink hues began to bleed dark red.
"Considerate of you Vector, but I like to do my own paperwork," Agent dismissed.
Orange eyes glanced at the datapad he held, then away.
"Forgive us, but we would like to provide an oral summary of the report before you grant your signature," he insisted. Rarely was he an assertive man, but Vector found he could not let such a travesty pass in silence.
Agent sighed, brows lowered as deep red sparks burst around her briefly. Regardless of her thoughts, Nine humored him and fully turned her seat around to face him. After the start of their first mission together on Alderaan, she had maintained a strictly professional persona around him.
It seemed Agent had taken his request to be direct to heart, for which he was thankful. All of their conversations since had been short and candid. Mostly, they spoke of his transition to the ship. She seemed to have some interest in his person; they had conversed about his first experience eating rations, but nothing as serious as the matter that troubled him now.
"Proceed."
"Now?" he asked.
"No time like the present," Agent clipped.
"Very well," dark eyes flicked down to the datapad he held, and Vector began, "first, there was the capture of Darth Jadus and the Imperial Dreadnaught the Dominator, along with the systematic elimination of the entire crew—"
"—All in a day's work," Kaliyo interjected.
He had hoped for a more private setting; perhaps he ought to have mentioned that. Inky eyes looked at the Rattataki, and she glared right back. Agent said nothing about the exchange, though her gaze traveled between her companions.
"And the damage caused by the Eradicator is an estimated 55,000 casualties on Dromund Kaas, 35,500 on Korriban…" he continued through the extensive list of planets and outposts until Agent cut him off.
"—If you have a point to make, do so," she ordered, aura shrinking.
"The devastation caused by firing the Eradicators overshadows the outcome of the mission; therefore the mission cannot be regarded as a success," he said bluntly.
Agent's eyebrows arched at him. A half grin broke out across Kaliyo's face as pink bloomed in her aura again, as though she found his words as humorous as her crude story.
"Your professional opinion, I assume," Agent said.
Cipher's aura had constricted into a tightly controlled sphere now. Orange nearly gone, dark red rolled from her core in choppy, viscous waves, not unlike the molten convection of stars. However, Vector was unmoved by the display.
"Yes," he replied, head inclining once.
Yellow and deep red sparks fizzled through Cipher's constricted field, crackling like lightning as they struck each other. Song becoming sharp, she calmly steepled her fingers and leaned back in her chair.
"Had I not fired the weapon, I wouldn't have gained the Darth's short-lived trust, and he might have gotten away. I did everything I could to prevent my defeat and his escape. Now, he will face a trial governed by those best suited to judge him," she argued in an even tone.
"Your reasoning is not without logic, but it has amounted to nearly a quarter of a million Imperial lives lost," he reminded.
"Sith always dream big, don't they? Had Jadus operated the Eradicators accurately, the casualties would be even higher. Had he escaped, who knows what devastation he'd have concocted in his exile. Darth Jadus is where he belongs now," Agent reiterated, firmly defending her decision.
"Perhaps, but it's doubtful trial and punishment alone will change someone like him," he said truthfully.
Darth Jadus was incredibly powerful—he had been surprised Agent and Kaliyo had returned alive, much less been able to corner the Sith Lord. Surely the Dark Council would not want to suffer the loss of such a dominating player. The Empire and the Republic were almost on the tipping point of full-scale warfare, though the Cold War remained in effect. Darth Jadus was too valuable of an asset for the Dark Council to lose, regardless of his attempt to murder them. The Darth probably still had parts of his network operational as well.
Certainly, Jadus would be tortured and imprisoned for a time. However, it was doubtful that corporal punishment would have any lasting effect on someone who willingly murdered civilians and faked his death in order to commit mass genocide. More likely, it would only increase Darth Jadus' desire to see the Empire remolded to his liking. Imprisonment would offer the perfect fuel for such flames of hatred.
"What did you want me to do, kill him?" Agent asked face still composed, but hot burgundy sparks flared from her like embers off a roiling fire.
"Death and destruction are not the only answer, Agent," he said before offering advice. "Darth Jadus is an intelligent man, perhaps he could have been reasoned with."
"And perhaps not," she replied sternly, "I did what I had to do to protect the Empire, and it has survived this terroristic threat bloodied but whole. I performed my duty."
"True, your actions have saved the Imperial regime. But doesn't protecting the Empire imply that your duty to defend it extends to everyone under Imperial influence, what of them?" he asked, indicating to the report as he held it up.
The reaction was immediate. Dark, vicious red lashed out from the core of Agent's aura in bursts like plasma from a solar flare. It hurt his eyes to look at and glanced away for a second. Point taken.
"…But, regardless of the loss of life, we understand your reasoning and see you stand by it."
Orange eyes narrowed as wide black orbs stared in return.
"I do," she replied stiffly and rose to her feet.
Agent came near and stopped a pace away. Her sweet, spiced scent was embedded into every facet of the ship, and although he was growing accustomed to it, her sudden proximity and whirling emotions made the aroma overwhelming. He drew a calming breath to focus.
"Yet, hindsight doesn't offer any alternative considerations?" Vector pressed looking down at her.
"For what point or purpose?" Agent snapped. Slitted eyes locked with his own as red—hot sparks flew between them. She continued, "This line of work requires sacrifice, Vector. I thought you of all people would have understood that."
The words stung. Vector frowned slightly as Agent snatched the datapad from his hand. Returning to her seat, Agent turned away from him to face the wide, glowing map of the galaxy.
"There is a difference between sacrifice and slaughter, Agent," he said to her back.
"And crying over spilled Nerf milk won't put it back in the cup," she retorted apathetically, not bothering to look at him, "what's done is done."
"True, unfortunately," he admitted.
There was no undoing this.
"Dismissed," Agent ordered flatly.
There would be no further discussion. Cipher's anger was cooling though Vector wouldn't say it was gone, instead it seemed to be controlled by her detachment. The aura around her gradually began to grow to its normal circumference, but it was dim and cold. Red hues flowed around Agent's core dark and heavy as cooling magma while light blue sparks cascaded through her field like a winter storm. Vector tasted frost on his tongue.
He glanced at Kaliyo still sitting sideways in the communications chair. Glowing with pleasure, the Rattataki smirked and raised two fingers in his direction. Thumbing pointed upward like a raised blaster, her hand jerked once and dark grey lips mouthed—bang bang.
Without a word, Vector turned and left the deck for the seclusion of the cargo hold to sing his grief to the distant Hive.
Chapter 1 Notes
-This is gonna be a weird story. I really tried to understand how the world might look through a Joiner's eyes.
-None of the crew ever know Cipher Nine's name in the cannon, so she'll be Agent, Cipher, or Nine throughout the story. What's in a name anyway? She might get one way later, idk.
-Aura colors and shape are loosely based off reiki. I wrote a guide for it, when I finish it I'll make a link.
-Propolis (bee glue) is a resinous mixture honey bees collect from organic sources—trees buds, sap, etc.—and use it to make surfaces or seal unwanted gaps in the hive. So, why not? I thought that Killiks should make propolis too, but it's sticker, stronger, and used to build and line nests and mounds. Also, its composition changes depending on the botanical sources the host plant has. It'll be mentioned again later. I like bees...
-Flirting makes Vector uncomfortable and he super sucks at it right now.
-[Edit 2019] They never show how your companion travels with you in game, so I assumed they just ride behind you or in the adjacent seat. Right?
Chapter 2 Notes
-The Killiks are creepy and out of their own personal gain.
-I know if you watch him closely, Vector does smile when you first meet him. I like him less human than when you first get him, but he'll learn. Don't worry.
Chapter 3 Notes
-Whole buncha bullshit about Killiks and Joiners-don't think about it too hard.
-Kaliyo's great at giving warm welcomes.
Chapter 4 Notes
-Everyone is mean to Vector, everyone. I like it.
-Agent is darkside but will become less harsh as the story goes on after a whole buncha suffering.
-I think my take on the Jadus incident is different than others I've read. (edit: it's been like 4+ years now and, like, idk man have not kept up). Most seem to have some remorse if they chose to unleash the eradicators, Agent not so much. Clearly, Vector's not happy with her decision or apathy.
-All chapters have been edited as of 2019. I forgot how weirdly I posted this on . Go read it on A03 for a better experience: /works/3982471