Star Wars: The Old Republic
Marr
~Chapter Twenty-Four~
Adversity is the forge that makes us strong.
"You dare insult me?! I'm a Lord of the Sith!" He flung her to the wall with a flick of his arm and held her suspended there.
Liaseph shrieked at the sudden motion. Once she was certain he wasn't going to put her through the wall, she stared straight ahead, dark dead eyes careful to focus on anything but him.
He snatched the necklace from the floor, diamonds leaking out of his fist as he shook it. "I could kill you for this. It would be my right."
"Then do it."
He closed the gap between them and clamped her face in his hand. "Look at me when I speak to you."
Their eyes locked, her hatred palpable between them. Her gaze never wavered as she stared him down, the light in her eyes as sharp as talons.
"That's better." He released her face and exhaled a deep exasperated breath. He paced the apartment and paused to pour himself two fingers of Whyren's Reserve. He took a swallow, barely savoring the taste of the amber liquid. He hesitated in taking another mouthful, choosing instead to study her over the rim of the tumbler. He fixed her in his sight and his eyes softened along with his voice.
"Liaseph, do you have any inkling what I do all day? I bicker. That's what I do—I bicker with short-sighted fools everywhere I go. And when I finish bickering with them," he eyed the contents of his glass, "I go home and bicker with my wife and the parade of fools she entertains every night; and when I travel, I bicker with the simpletons governing other worlds."
The arch of her brow was as pointed as an arrowhead. "It never occurred to you that you might be the problem?"
"Just what I might expect from a sheltered child. Do you realize The Empire is in danger of being over-run by alien filth? And to think some of my cohorts on the Dark Council would include them in our number." He shook his head, brows pinched in disgust.
At the mention of the council, Liaseph eyed the man shrewdly and tracked his movements around the room until he circled back to her.
"They fail to understand that we don't need this rabble. Twi'leks, Nautolans, Togruta—all manner of filth. They're all as useless as they are repulsive. They defile our world with their very presence."
"Oh no, how terrible for you," Liaseph said flatly.
The man slammed down his glass and turned on her. "Your insolence annoys me. And you will address me as, 'my lord.'"
"How terrible for you—my lord," she mock corrected herself and rolled her eyes.
"I've had my fill of your impertinence. It's time you learned your place." He claimed her face between his hands like a lover would, but it was a false tenderness. His thumbs swished over her cheeks like angry nexu tails. It appeared that he might kiss her, but when she averted her eyes, he forced her to look at him again.
"I wanted to spoil you. Had you pleased me, I would have showered you with your heart's desire."
"You don't even know what that is. You never will."
He cast his arm in a dismissive wave. "I know enough, women are all the same. They all crave jewels, finery, and stability. I could have provided it all. I would have shown you the galaxy—places you can't even imagine—diplomacy is lonely work when the bickering ends. You would have had a life of dreams by my side. I might have even permitted you to bear my bastards in time."
"I don't want anything from you."
"But there are things I want from you—and I will get them. I always do."
"Not from me you won't."
"I beg to differ. You see, there are things you don't know about me. I'm going to tell you a story, Liaseph.
"Long ago, our Emperor fashioned a device—a very powerful device called the Ravager. It was so powerful he hid it away in the Dark Temple. My master became obsessed with acquiring it. He sent countless reclamation teams to search for it, but they went mad and came up short. Eventually, he abandoned his search and decided to fashion his own device. He devoted every moment to tinkering with it, and I, as his most trusted apprentice, was enlisted to help him.
"Of course, I gave him just enough to allow him small advances and secure my promotions, but through my research, I discovered a physical device wasn't necessary. It was possible to train the mind to achieve the same ends and as it so happened, I had an aptitude for it. I spent years perfecting my ability. There are precious few minds I can't manipulate—but even the invulnerable have their weaknesses, but I digress.
"By this time, I was a Lord of the Sith, but I wanted more. So I challenged my master. The fool believed he was close to a breakthrough—what better time to rub his nose in his failure?
"I'm sure by now you're hoping I'll tell you what it is I can do. You must be curious."
Liaseph scowled. "Not particularly."
"Well my darling," his gaze panned down to her breasts and back up again to meet her eyes, "Why tell you when I can show you?"
His eyes narrowed and Liaseph whimpered. Her mouth fell open and her eyes were as round as coins.
"W-What—are you doing to me?"
"Demonstrating my talent to you, just as I did for my former master. I'll never forget the look on his face. Like you, he tried to resist. But even for a Sith, it was all for naught. You see, I can amplify every terrible memory—every heartbreak, every fear. All the things that terrify you, come alive in frightening detail and only I can stop it from liquefying your mind."
Liaseph gritted her teeth against the onslaught and gasped from the effort. She panted and her brow was dotted with sweat. "Do your w-worst."
"I really don't think you want me to do that—my master said the same thing. And then I did this…" He sneered and tightened the hold on her mind.
Tears coiled down her cheeks and she gasped as if catching her breath after an hour of holding it in.
"Then my master said to me, 'Phineas, how is this possible? Tell me.'
"And so I did. Instead of creating the device, I became the device. I think that shocked him. And then do you know what he said? Of course, you wouldn't, so I'll tell you." He waved her off.
"He said, 'Why Phineas?'
"And that's when I demanded my due—to sit on the Dark Council as Head of the Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy. Do you know he had the nerve to say that I would make a poor diplomat? That I hadn't a diplomatic bone in my body? Looking back, perhaps he was right. But what does it matter when I can bend others to my will?"
Liaseph's gloved fingers coiled into fists. "Stop this," she choked out.
"Now it's my turn to say no. In fact, I think you need to see more of what I'm capable of."
The man clasped his hands behind his back and paced as the attack grew more and more excruciating.
She convulsed and screamed until her voice cracked. Her head lolled forward. He returned to her side and gave her a shake. She murmured incoherently and gradually came to. "Stop it…"
"My master understood that he'd never defeat me and with his last breath he named me for what I'd become..."
"Am I supposed to be impressed?"
"Liaseph, your beauty boggles the mind, but that tongue of yours will be the death of you. Of course, you should be impressed."
"Well, I'm not. I don't care if you're on the Dark Council."
"You're either brave or a complete fool. I think it's more the former than the latter, and I will enjoy breaking you of it."
"Why not just kill me?"
"For the same reasons our Emperor chose not to kill those who defied him. You are simply too valuable to kill."
"You're spent. You can't do it."
"You don't honestly believe that was the full measure of my power? Because I can increase your suffering a thousand-fold."
"You're a coward," she spat.
"We'll see who the coward is when we're finished." He gritted his teeth and grasped the air, clenching it tightly in his fist.
Liaseph gasped. Her body shuddered as he resumed his abuse.
"Such exquisite terror, it's like a fine meal. I never expected such fear and misery from someone so young. Can you hear it? Smell it?" He licked his lips and clasped her chin between his fingers, his face close to hers again. "Can you—taste it? I can make you do whatever I want; tell me whatever I want. Let's test that, shall we?" He stroked his jaw as he mulled over ideas. "Tell me the name of your first love."
"No…"
"Wrong answer, Liaseph."
Her chest rose and fell in shallow panicked breaths. "Stop…"
"Tell me the name…and I'll make it stop." His lips edged up at the corners.
She snorted three times in rapid succession and winced as she fought the impulse, to tell the truth.
He broke off his assault just enough to allow her to breathe and talk. "The name!"
"Ry…Rylister. M-Master Rylister," she croaked.
"A Jedi then. Interesting. Now you see, that wasn't so difficult was it?"
"What do you want from me?"
He caressed the side swell of her breast as he considered her question and traced the nipple jutting through the fabric of her dress with his thumb. He leered at her, his mouth splitting into a crooked grin. "Your defiance has proven to be quite arousing. Beg me, Liaseph. Beg me to bed you."
Tears twisted down her cheeks and he leaned in closer. "Remember," he began, "Only I can make the pain stop. Beg me, and all this unpleasantness becomes a memory."
She closed her eyes and turned her head away. The pain asserted itself again and she whimpered.
"Say it!"
"I…I want you to…to bed me," she bit out.
"Not like that! Like this…" He whispered the words he wanted to hear and Liaseph flushed crimson.
Her mouth dropped open. "That's filthy. I'm a lady."
"You won't be after I'm done with you. I have no use for fine manners in the bed chamber. Say it."
Her lower lip quivered and she averted her gaze.
Exasperated, he huffed a breath and relented. "Then whisper it." His voice softened and he tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. "Only I will hear it."
She pursed her lips and breathed the words he craved against his ear. She drew back slowly, her cheeks flushing anew.
He seized the nape of her neck and mashed his mouth to hers, finally breaking the kiss when he needed air.
"Now say my name."
"Ravage!"
I sat bolt upright. Livid and frantic, the man's name left a pebbly residue at the back of my throat. I winced against the bright surgical light above me and the acrid smell of kolto filled my nose.
Vowrawn lowered the data pad he'd been reading and clacked his tongue. "I must say I'm quite disappointed old friend—I've sat here, dutifully for hours and you call his name?"
"I'm in no mood for your jesting, Vowrawn."
"Not to worry, the man gives me nightmares as well."
The Force vision lingered and taunted my rage. I fought to hold on to it, to glean answers I might have missed, but holding onto it presented an illusion of choice I didn't have. Retaining the vision and accessing what I needed in this moment was like trying to hold onto water with my bare hands. The knowledge remained but it was not something I was permitted to use.
"Where's the agent?" I barked. "I was with an agent—Tarkin. Where's Tarkin? I wish to speak with him."
"I would imagine he's at Intelligence undergoing debriefing."
"How did I get here?"
"Tarkin contacted your ship…informed them of your medical emergency—apparently all the while attempting to treat you himself. Poor boy, I think he feared we'd execute him if you died.
"Admiral Vilks, saw to it you were returned to Dromund Kaas, and fortunately for you, I was the one who intercepted his communique. I arranged for my personal physicians to treat you. If I understand correctly, you ran afoul of the Slavemaster Borga?"
"How do you know this?"
"Vilks informed me that you sought to challenge Borga—and I must say your ruse worked splendidly…"
"As usual, I suspect you know about this more than you rightfully should."
"Not at all, old friend. The results of your efforts have been all over the holonet." Vowrawn tapped at his datapad with a flourish of fingers and turned it to face me. The newsreel played clips of various aerial battles over Zygerria and the liberation of countless slaves from the Arkanian camps.
"Congratulations, you've managed to instigate an all-out war between the Jedi and by extension the Republic against the Zygerrian slave trade. Both sides are suffering immeasurable casualties. In one fell stroke, you managed to set two threats to the Empire against each other. Bravo." Vowrawn smacked his lips like a manka cat eyeing a bird. "Well played old friend. I may need to start keeping my eye on you."
I sat up straighter and folded my arms. Bile burned its way up my gullet and I swallowed. "And what of Ravage…"
"As hoped, this latest coup of yours eclipsed his accusations—and in seeing the clever scenario you arranged, the Council is more confident than ever that you've always had the Empire's best interests at heart.
"Ravage's apprentice and the Thul incident, I assure you, are ancient history. In fact—and you didn't hear this from me, but you are to be tapped to launch several campaigns, designed to break the Republic once and for all. We'll drive them into such fits of desperation, they'll play right into our hands. It'll be delightful."
"I have other matters that require my focus."
"Perhaps then, old boy, you'd like to explain that to our hallowed Emperor? I'm sure whatever it is, you can set it aside…or delegate it."
"The Emperor…he's broken his silence?"
"Indeed he has…and he's devised a magnificent plan. By the time you're finished, the Jedi will be practically on their knees begging for a treaty—and then we'll have them. Coruscant—the jewel of their Republic will be crushed under our boot. They'll have no choice. Between your command of the Navy and Malgus' ground troops, Coruscant will burn."
"What is the time table…did he address the council personally?"
"Oh, we're playing the long game, my friend. I don't foresee this coming to fruition for…oh…at least another fifteen years—assuming you succeed in breaking them."
"Fifteen years?" I barked. "That's madness. We don't have the resources for a prolonged war."
"Neither do they, but my sources tell me we have the upper hand. You sound a tad impatient, old boy. I thought extending the Republic's misery would please you."
"As I said, I have other concerns. Did the Emperor himself address the Council in my absence?"
"His Hand relayed the plan to us." Vowrawn's lip edged up impishly.
"I don't care for the look on your face."
"I'll let you in on a little secret…the Emperor's Hand has been in contact with me personally for some weeks now. If I play my cards well…I may serve as their liaison with the Council. Short of becoming a digit, it's all I could have hoped for, and that means, you and I will have the Emperor's hand and his ear…among other things." A naughty gleam lit his ruby coloured gaze.
"For once, can you be serious?"
"Now, where's the fun in that? All the galaxy is our chessboard, Marr, and we have an army of queens."
"As the Head of the Sphere of Diplomacy, I'm sure Ravage will be impressed," I sneered.
"Indeed, that same thought had occurred to me as well…but it's nothing that a well-placed distraction won't solve—we don't need him interfering in our game, do we?"
"There are times I pity anyone who has the misfortune of knowing you."
"Well my good fellow, I think it's time that I be running off. I have to align my dominoes so to speak. I can't wait to set off the chain reaction. Perhaps—I'll invite you to watch the boom."
"I don't have time for your games."
Vowrawn swept the dust from his palms and sighed. "You can't win, if you don't compete."
"You can't lose either."
"Touché, my friend. Touché."
I watched him exit and the impulse to summon him back was almost overwhelming. I considered requesting his assistance but quickly reconsidered—the less he knew of her, the safer she would be.
An hour later, I strode into Imperial Intelligence and one of the watchers escorted me to Agent Tarkin's location.
At my arrival, those interrogating him scattered like insects. The young agent poured himself a glass of ice water and held up the pitcher in offer. "My lord?"
I waved him away and sensed his silent self-reproach at having made the offer. "At ease. I wish to continue our conversation."
"Or course, my lord." He bowed slightly and clasped his hands behind his back. The agent didn't fawn or grovel, and I appreciated his brand of curt professionalism.
"Before we begin, I wish to extend my appreciation, for your assistance while I was incapacitated. Your dedication has been noted and will be rewarded."
"Thank you my lord."
"I must admit, I'm curious—the timing of your mission on Zygerria seems far too great a coincidence to ignore. Were you sent to intercept me?"
"No my lord—not you. The nature of this mission is classified, however as you are on the Dark Council, may I assume your authorization to continue?"
"Yes. Who were you sent to intercept?"
"A rogue Imperial agent—Cipher Seven."
"They sent you…to intercept a Cipher?"
"Yes, my lord—but it wasn't an intercept mission exactly—it was a termination order. I realize it sounds unusual, but I didn't think it my place to question my superiors."
"You've only just graduated from the program, yes?"
"I've been in the field for seven months now."
"How did the Cipher break protocol?"
"I don't know the exact details, my lord—only that he had become corrupted somehow and was believed to be a threat to Imperial security."
"Did you complete your mission?"
"Yes my lord. Cipher Seven has been terminated."
"Where was the Cipher when you completed your mission?"
"He was located twenty meters from Borga's palace."
While the agent gave no physical indication that something was missing from his story, I sensed his trepidation.
"You haven't been completely forthcoming, Agent. What aren't you telling me?"
Tarkin drew a deep breath and I sensed his anxiety shift to resignation. "Cipher Seven was able to get off a shot before I could stop him."
"This shot…was directed at the ziggurat?"
"Yes my lord. The window to what I believe was the throne room shattered."
"You're aware that the slave master Borga was assassinated?"
"Yes my lord. It's been on the holonet."
"Who gave you the order?"
"Keeper."
"Who gave the order to him?"
"That I don't know, my lord. I would presume the Minister of Intelligence or another member of the Dark Council."
I approached the intercom. "This is Darth Marr. Send Keeper to Conference Room Besh at once."
Ten minutes later, a nervous portly man appeared in the doorway.
"You're not Keeper."
"No, my lord. I'm Watcher Three."
"If I'd wished to speak to you, I would have sent for you. Get me Keeper."
Watcher Three rang his hands. "I-I can't my Lord. He's dead."
"I want Imperial Intelligence locked down. No one is to leave until this matter has been resolved and get me the Minister of Intelligence. Now."
((to be continued…))