Vowrawn followed Bellon through the portal and stepped into the warm sun and clean streets of Dalaran; he noticed immediately the change in altitude and popped his ears. He studied the different races hurrying about: orcs, elves, trolls, gnomes, goblins, Draenei, pandarans, humans… "Darth Phallas!" He strode angrily toward the human in the company of a tiny armored woman.
"My Lord Vowrawn." Phallas' eyes popped as he cringed at his master's anger. "I…" He didn't finish as his throat closed and he was lift off his feet. He dropped suddenly and unceremoniously into a heap on the street.
Daiva had shot out a whip that caught Vowrawn around his feet and yanked him into range of her two swords. She pinned him to the ground with the whip and placed the tips of her swords at his throat and heart. "Don't you dare hurt my widdle Fally-wally."
At the same instant, one of Vowrawn's juggernauts started toward the deathknight raising his saber.
A vortex of icy air froze the three sith and Vowrawn's guards in place. A second blast of ice encircled the group incapacitating them further. Lastly, frost exploded around the first juggernaut killing him instantly. Torque glared at the remaining Sith and imperial troopers. "Anyone else want to attack a friend of mine?"
Bellon patted Torque on the head. "Daiva, it's great to see you; you missed some awesome fights. Mind letting up the emissary of the Emperor? He's here to negotiate an alliance, not be your pin cushion." Bellon strode up and offered Vowrawn a hand up once Daiva released the Sith. "Darth Vowrawn, this is Deathknight Daiva Springday." He turned to the shaken human. "Hey Phallas, long time no see, or hear, or anything. Oh, you lost this." He slammed the extra communicator into Phallas' chest. "Torque, please let them go."
"That was extremely irresponsible of you, running off like that," Cinnabar's tone was one used with a naughty child and she shook one of her claws at Phallas. "If it hadn't been Daiva you followed, we would have been worried sick."
"Sheep!"
"Baaaaaaaaa," Phallas protested in shock.
"What?" Vowrawn stared at his subordinate. "Put him back!"
"It'll wear off," Bellon explained with calm. "Daiva, where are you two staying?"
"I suppose you do deserve it, dearie," Daiva shook her head as she patted Phallas the sheep on his head. "You did abandon your duty. We're at the Hero's Welcome."
"When he recovers, join us at the Legerdemain," Bellon headed for the inn.
Vowrawn stared at the dead juggernaut and his frozen entourage. "You killed Lord Wraith," he turned on Torque.
"Try anything and you'll join him," Luxraina warned glaring at Vowrawn. "Cin, please resurrect the fool?"
Vowrawn stared as the priestess chanted and the Sith shakely climbed to his feet. "What about Lord Phallas?"
"He'll be fine," Bellon assured Vowrawn again. "The spell lasts about an hour. Daiva will keep him safe."
"Fally-wally?" Torque suddenly burst out laughing. "Those two have it bad. I wonder what he calls her."
"My little munchy-kin," Arbeth simpered. "Are we going to ask them to stay with us, because if we do, I think they'll make me vomit."
"Where Phallas stays is completely up to Darth Vowrawn," Bellon explained.
"He's DARTH Phallas," Vowrawn reminded between grit teeth.
"Nah, he's Dearth Phallic," Torque corrected. "Any respect he should have was lost when he bolted after Daiva like a love-sick sheep."
"Torque is right," Bellon said. "Any respect I might have had for him is gone, like a thief in the night." He turned into the inn and approached the inn keeper.
"How poetic," Torque noted.
Bellon arranged for Darth Vowrawn and his men to have the top floor of rooms to themselves. As they had before, he and Torque would share a room and the ladies would share a room on the second floor. He then announced he was going to find Harmon and arrange the meeting time and place for the treaty negotiations.
"You were going to brief me," Vowrawn reminded Bellon.
"Plenty of time for that. I thought you might like to settle in; you'll be here a while. Oh, there's a small landing pad on the northeast side of the city that could accommodate a small shuttle; that is if you have anyone else who is to be part of your team."
Bellon returned about an hour later. He found the entire group sitting around a table in the tavern area. Phallas stood at Vowrawn's left shoulder, his head down. Daiva sat just to Vowrawn's left, near her lover. Bellon noticed the complete lack of any conversation.
"Well, aren't we a lively bunch." He grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table.
"Thank god you're here, Billy," Arbeth groaned and smiled with relief. She shifted her chair to make room for him.
"I have nothing to say to this rabble," Vowrawn snapped. He was suddenly and inexplicably flung from his chair. He glared at each face trying to ascertain which Force user did that.
All expressions were taught and decidedly unfriendly.
"Daiva," Bellon narrowed his eyes on the Deathknight. "He has every right to be angry at Phallas; the man patently disobeyed orders. You, as well as anyone, know the need to quell insubordination within the ranks."
"How did you know it was her?" Vowrawn demanded brushing off his robes.
"Because it was from her direction you were hit." Bellon pointed to Vowrawn's left side. "Your robes were smashed by the impact of the force."
Vowrawn stared in surprise. He wondered how Bellon could have seen that in the instant of impact. He cleared his throat. "So when do I meet these two leaders," he drawled "leaders" condescendingly.
"Three days from now; they are currently aboard a Draenei ship orbiting Argos," Bellon explained. "Harmon sent them word that you have arrived; they will be returning poste haste." He leaned back and sighed smiling. "My work here is done."
"You still have to brief me," Vowrawn reminded tersely.
"Right you are," Bellon grinned. "Be nice, be respectful, the two men you are meeting are your equals in power."
"Not now, Billy" Torque groaned. "I don't want to hear it. Let's talk about - I don't know, fun stuff."
Vowrawn stood abruptly. "I have no interest in your petty musings. Darth Phallas, with me." He eyed Daiva. "We have no further need of your company. You may return to whatever hellhole you crawled out of."
Daiva glared back. "You are treading a thin line, Mr. High-and-mighty. I would turn you into shark chum this instant if not for Azeroth's need for this treaty." Her glare followed Vowrawn as he led Phallas up the stairs to his quarters.
"Billy, I overheard Foulran tell some of his men-at-arms that they are to escort you back to Damn Kast on his ship." Torque looked worried. "You won't get to see Loa if they do that."
"Torque, can you make a Simulacrum?" Arbeth asked.
"I can," Daiva's glare turned to a mischievous grin. "Torque, I need you to make a light articulated frame for the body and head. Billy, I need you to provide a paper mask of your face. Arbeth, I need about five animal hides. I'll need about… how much to do you weigh, Billy?
"Uh, 70 kilos, that's about 154 pounds?" he answered confused.
"I'll need about twenty pounds of leaves and fur and animal feces to stuff the body," Daiva directed.
Torque hurried up stairs to get his engineering tools and metal supply.
"What's the animal poop for?" Arbeth asked.
"The smell," Daiva explained sweetly.
"I don't smell like animal shit!" Bellon protested.
Cinnabar giggled, "No, no, no; when someone figures out it isn't you, and they will figure it out, they will break the Simulacrum and release the wonderful aroma of lukewarm, weeks-old excrement. I'll take care of that, I know just the excrement to get… dragon!" She stood and left.
Arbeth snatched up her bow and hurried out as well.
"So what is the purpose of all this?" Bellon asked.
Luxraina laid a hoof on his shoulder. "We will let them take the Simulacrum to Dru… whatever, not you. Where's your holo thingie; that will provide a perfect image of your face. I have some parchment in my pack. Be back in a jiff." She hurried up the stairs to her room.
"What are you going to do, Daiva?" Bellon asked.
"I need to write the enchantment that makes it all work. Have everyone meet me at the Engineer Shop in the mage quarter." She hopped out of her chair and left the inn.
Bellon was left alone in the tavern of the inn. He looked around with a sense of trepidation. The idea was crazy; but then this was crazy Azeroth and crazy was the norm and crazy worked. He chuckled at the thought of some dragon feces spilling out on the pristine walkways of Kaas City.
Bellon stared at the cobbled thing supporting the paper mask of his grinning face. "That doesn't look anything like me. How will it fool even the most stupid of blind men?"
They were in a backroom of the Dalaran engineering shop.
"Enchantment," Daiva said writing feverishly on a piece of vellum. "I need you to talk; if it speaks it needs to sound like you."
"Uh, okay," Bellon wracked his brain for something to say. He remembered a conversation in a Chiss book he read in his youth. He began speaking in Cheunh.
"That should do," Daiva stopped him. "If they speak to it, it will respond in a language hopefully they don't know."
"Now what?" Bellon asked.
"We'll keep it hidden until they are ready to take you back to prison," Torque explained cheerfully, "then switch it and you. Those dolts of Foulran's won't know the difference."
Daiva finished what she was writing and reviewed it with satisfaction. She handed it to Torque. "Okay, mage, will this do?"
Torque read the runes she had encrypted and nodded with satisfaction. "Put it on Billy 2 and let's test it."
"Who do we test it on?" Bellon asked.
"You stay here, I'll take it back to the Legerdemain and pass it by a couple of the guards." Luxraina activated the Simulacrum and lead it out the door. Torque and Cinnabar trotted after her.
Bellon waited impatiently with Arbeth and Daiva. He paced nervously as the other two cleaned up all evidence of their work.
"Once Vowrawn's men leave with Billy 2, you can leave," Arbeth said.
Bellon stopped his pacing. "They won't leave my ship here. Either Vowrawn will commandeer it for his use, or they'll take it with them. They can use a tractor beam to haul it aboard the dreadnaught."
"How will you meet up with your Chiss friends? They can't come get you; Vowrawn will notice their ship. He'll still have Phallas' ship," Arbeth worried.
"I think I know someone," Billy's smile suddenly changed to a frown. "Of course, he has every reason to let me rot in Shadow Town."
"What did you do to him?" she asked knowing it was bad.
"I kind-a abandoned him; but he got a fine ship out of it. Corso Riggs and I ran together for a number of years; I was posing as a smuggler, er, privateer for the Republic, and Corso was my first mate. He's a really good kid; I hated deceiving him, but you do what you have to do. When the assignment ended, I returned to Imperial Intelligence rather abruptly." Bellon stopped pacing and started running through the frequencies on his holocommunicator.
"How will you keep Vowrawn from finding out you contacted him?" Daiva asked looking at the communicator.
"They need to know what frequency to look for. Too-vee, what is the position of Vowrawn's dreadnaught?"
"Master, the Imperius is about to cross the terminator into night. I have received notification that we will be breaking orbit for Drummond Kaas in two days. Is that so?"
"Yes, Too-vee. I want you to open a channel on the frequency I am sending you, Implement Code 7Besh9-Aurek1-Xeshzero."
"Yes, master."
"You mother-fucking-sonuvabitch!" A young, dark-haired human appeared in the holocommunicator. "What the hell do you think you're doing calling me?"
"Heh, Corso, good to see you too. I need a ride." Bellon grinned at the angry man.
"Listen here, you Imperial bastard…"
"Tut, tut, that's no way to treat an old mate. Corso, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be one of the most successful privateers in Republic service," Bellon countered still smiling.
"Republic, Empire, at war, remember? Why would I help you?"
"For old-times' sake. I'm leaving Imperial service for good and all. You should appreciate that. I need a ride out of this system along a track that will lose any Imperial effort to follow me. Barena, or whatever you call her these days…"
"She's sill Barena," Corso admitted a little sheepishly.
Daiva could see triumph in Bellon's posture.
"Barena has the capability to do just that. You'll even get paid."
There was an awkward silence; Corso seemed to talk to someone off screen. There was a roar.
"Is that Bowdaar? Heh, Bowdaar, how's it going?"
A huge hairy creature leaned over to put his face in the viewscreen. Bowdaar barked and yelped.
"That good? You guys are going to be the richest bastards in the galaxy if you keep that up."
Bowdaar said something else incomprehensible in his language.
"Thanks for your vote of confidence, but it is up to the ship's captain."
"Just tell me where to meet you," Corso pushed the Wookie aside and tried to glare at Bellon through the communicator.
Bellon sent the coordinates that would bring Corso into orbit on the opposite side of the planet from Phallas' ship two days after the day Torque said Vowrawn told his men to take their prisoner back to Drummond Kaas.
"What the hell are you doing that far out in Wild Space?" Corso exclaimed after reviewing the coordinates.
"I'll tell you in person, Corso. Don't contact me until you're in orbit. Make sure you're opposite the planet from the destroyer. Billy out."
"It worked like a charm," Luxraina announced as the group returned with the Simulacrum.
Cinnabar was laughing. "Billy, they actually thought it was you in a grumpy mood. We just have to make sure the switch is made when we know those magic users won't be seeing it again."
"I ran into Babs; she said she has the perfect hiding place for you and this in the Thieves' Guild; that's in the sewers." Torque parked the Simulacrum in a corner of the room and switched it off.
"Oh, lovely," Bellon rolled his eyes.
They left locking the door to the room.
Page 9 of 9
