Chapter Ten
Leonia Tavira had her arms crossed across her chest, her expression hard and cold. It reminded Vorru of Ysanne Isard at her angriest, but Vorru actually found Tavira less scary simply because she wasn't nearly as insane. She was just angry and wanted to unleash that anger on a convenient target. "Was it worth it?" she hissed furiously at him, slamming her palms down on the boardroom table in the Star Destroyer's conference lounge. "Was one Drall worth two squadrons of my fighters and crippling damage to my ship?"
It was an exaggeration on her part, but only a mild one. Invidious wasn't crippled, but it was also far from battle ready. With its starboard shields now totally gone, and half its starboard armament out of commission, the ship was quite vulnerable. Had the X-wings—which Tavira's sensors people had belatedly identified as Rogue Squadron, only infuriating her even more (and offering him a moment's concern, but surely it was just a coincidence that the Rogues were in-sector)—been armed with a full load of proton torpedoes, they might have been able to cripple Invidious beyond repair.
Pointing that out to Tavira would be supremely unwise, however. "You know he is," Vorru replied soothingly. "He's the key to the entire plan."
Tavira slammed her hands on the table again, the glimmering surface vibrating from the impact. Vorru winced—that had to hurt. "He's old and feeble and well past his prime. What if he can't do what we need him to?"
Vorru's expression and voice hardened. "He can. I've known Eliezer for a long time, nearly twice as long as you have been alive. I know what he can do and what he can't do better than anyone alive or dead—better than Cracken, better than Isard." He lifted a finger warningly, his voice growing soft and menacing. Had anyone else been in the room, he wouldn't have dared—Tavira might feel compelled to have him killed just to maintain her facade of superiority—but alone, he could challenge her the way she deserved. "Do not underestimate him, and do not underestimate me," he growled. "Palpatine feared me once, and you would do well to remember that."
"Palpatine," Tavira glared back savagely, her purple eyes flashing with fury, "beat you and locked you away on Kessel to rot."
Vorru smiled, a small, vicious smile that he'd learned in the Spice Mines. "And do you think that makes me less dangerous, Leonia? Or more."
She glared at him, refusing to back down, but he could see the flicker of respect in her gaze. They stared at each other evenly.
You have her hooked, he thought. Now she'll accept you as an equal, which means she will have you killed unless she has need of you. Time to remind her of your value. Vorru allowed his smile to become much more genial, his hands sliding back along the table until they settled next to his sides. "But, I acknowledge that your losses have been great, greater than either of us had anticipated. Perhaps you would allow me to offer you proper recompense?"
Tavira straightened, folding her arms back across her chest. "Go on," she said with a scowl.
You have her. Vorru brushed some invisible lint off his Moff's uniform. "I have a number of former associates within the Empire. Some are in positions of considerable authority, even. One in particular has access to everything we will need to restore Invidious to prime condition. A full, proper Imperial fleet yard, well-stocked with supplies and men."
"And why," Tavira asked coldly, but he could see the flicker of interest in her eyes, "would they agree to refit Invidious? This is not an Imperial vessel any longer."
"Ah, but it is," Vorru replied. "If it were to be restored to the Starfleet roster and put under the command of an active Imperial authority. It would hardly be the first time a Warlord has returned to the fold." He held up a hand, forestalling her objections. "It would only be a formality," he said calmingly. "We would accept no orders, and continue to operate independently."
Tavira's eyes narrowed. "And what do you want in exchange for this?" she asked.
Vorru smiled. "Nothing, of course. We agreed to a partnership. That partnership cannot be fulfilled unless each of us offers the other all the aid we have. This I can offer you. All I ask is you continue to fulfill your end of our bargain after I have delivered Invidious to the repair yards."
She pursed her lips together. Vorru could see the wheels spinning behind her eyes. When they had struck their bargain, he had asked for much, but in exchange he had promised much. So much that it was nearly unbelievable, even.
"I will fulfill my end of the bargain," Vorru said confidently. Her eyes narrowed, fury and avarace competing for dominance behind them. He felt his lips twitch, yearning to smile, but resisted the impulse. You have her, he thought again, sure of it now.
"Where are we going?"
Vorru did smile now. "Linuri, in the Doldur Sector," he said. "It's the last major Imperial fleet base in the galactic southeast. The Moff in charge there owes me," he paused, clasping his hands together and adopting a conspiratorial tone, "more than a few favors." His tone shifted, turning darker. "And if he chooses not to honor them, I have blackmail material that would end him."
Tavira straightened her uniform, still scowling. "Fine. I'll have us underway." She pointed at him, her eyes narrowing. "This had better be worth it, Vorru," she hissed, then turned and swept out the door like a stormcloud on a swift Tralus breeze.
He watched her go, quite satisfied with his day's work. He turned his attention to his next task, and his expression darkened with fury provoked by the memory of betrayal. Oh Disra, he thought to himself, you are going to be so unhappy to see me again.
But before he could see to making proper repayment for past slights, he had a friend to see. One who too had suffered because of Vorru's imprisonment.
The quarters Vorru had procured for Eliezer were dark when the ex-Moff entered. He could hear the elderly Drall breathing; heard the slight relaxation of that breathing as the Drall realized it was Vorru who had entered. "Vorru," the alien said, a distinct note of relief in his voice.
Vorru turned on the light. Eliezer had been average height for a Drall, but his posture was slightly hunched with age, reducing him to a little under one meter. His fur was a deep, reddish-brown, spotted white around the mouth and whiskers, giving him the appearance of a beard. The lack of physical exercise combined with age had rendered him physically feeble.
Vorru just hoped that did not extend to his mental faculties as well.
He could remember the younger Eliezer; older than Vorru, easily, but still in his physical and mental prime. Energetic, ambitious, lured by greed and patriotism in equal measure. "Do you remember how we met?" Vorru asked.
The Drall laughed, his beady eyes closing briefly as his claws stroked at the arms of his chair. "Is this a test of my identity, Vorru?" he asked, the sound darkly amused. "Do you think that Cracken would go so far to hide a spy in your service?"
Vorru just smiled. "No," he replied. "Oh, I have no doubt that Cracken would, if it were within his abilities. But I am reasonably certain he does not yet know that I escaped from Kessel, nor that I had discovered your HoloNet messages and would be coming for you. Unless you know differently?"
"No," the Drall agreed, seemingly enjoying the comfortable armchair which had come standard-issue with the room. "Cracken was the cleverest of my keepers in many ways, but his obsessions with secrecy and morals hindered him from properly surveilling my activities."
"One lasting weakness of the Republic, both Old and New," Vorru agreed. "The moral demands of its philosophy."
"Hardly the Republic's most fatal flaw," Eliezer riposted, and Vorru smiled. That was more like it, he thought. That sounded like the Eliezer he remembered. "But to answer your question, I did a job for a Smuggler. Jorj Car'das' outfit, if you remember him. Nothing too complicated or difficult. What I didn't know," Eliezer's beady eyes leveled on Vorru, "was that, as with every smuggling outfit that operated in or around Corellia, you were their silent partner, and privy to the details of that job."
"Car'das and I had an understanding, yes." Vorru drew the desk chair out from its place against the wall and sat in it, half-facing Eliezer. "The standard agreement. I agreed to allow him to use Corellia as a base of operations and safe haven, a place where he could safely fence his goods for a fair price. In exchange, he kept me up to date on affairs and gave me a cut of the profits." He smiled. "Those were good years."
"Hmmmm," Eliezer agreed, the sound approving. "Good years for Corellia as well. Safe from the overreach of the Old Republic, then safe from the talons of the Empire. Good years."
Those years were long past, now, disrupted by Palpatine's decision to eliminate Vorru as a potential rival and bring the ever-restless worlds of the Corellia system to heel, both Vorru's and Eliezer's among them.
"Care for a game of dejarik?" Vorru asked. He turned to one of the cabinets and fetched from it a portable dejarik table. In times past, he and Eliezer had played many a game; playing again would give him a good sense of the Drall's mental fitness. He set the table between them and switched the board on.
He was gratified when Eliezer made the first move quickly. He took a moment to counter, and watched as Eliezer peered at the board. The Drall took his time, which would have concerned Vorru if he did not see the calculating poise behind Eliezer's beady eyes.
Relief settled over him and he smiled. Eliezer may be physically feeble, but he had no more slowed than Vorru had himself.
The game took some time to complete, and Vorru found himself genuinely engrossed in the competition. He won of course, but it was a near thing.
The Drall sighed in annoyance as he settled deeper into his chair, his measured gaze now on Vorru. Vorru realized that the game had not just been his opportunity to test Eliezer; it had also been Eliezer's opportunity to test him. "You got me out to do a job," Eliezer prompted.
"I did," Vorru replied, smiling. "As much as I like you, Eliezer, we both know that the effort of breaking you out was greater than the value of your company alone."
The Drall laughed, though the sound turned into a hacking, awkward sounding cough. The furred alien clenched his taloned-hand into a fist and pounded his chest for a moment until it passed. "I wouldn't think so. And you never were the sentimental type." He unclenched his hand and stroked his claws over the arm of his chair slowly, the soft sound of sharp nails sliding over inexpensive leather.
"I need two things," Vorru said, sitting up. His eyes bored into the Drall's. "Two things I am reasonably sure only you can provide."
"Go on," the Drall replied, his eyes narrowing.
"I need you to use your HoloNet infiltration skills to extract information for me. Eavesdropping on classified communications, both Republican and Imperial. Tracking ships through hyperspace, that kind of thing."
Eliezer laughed. "Yes, of course," he replied. "And that would be quite enough." His voice grew quieter, arrogant. "No one else can do that for you, because I have husbanded those secrets very, very carefully. But I know you, Vorru. I can taste the ambition. There's something else you have planned… something dangerous. Something rewarding. Something challenging." His claws dug into the leather and tugged, and there was a tearing sound. "I am old for a Drall, older than you are for a human. I had not expected a true challenge again." The Drall leaned forward in the chair, his eyes gleaming. "Tell me."
Vorru pulled out a chair across from Eliezer, sat down across from him, looked him dead in the eyes like an equal, and told him. He could see the Drall's ambition grow with his avarice. Even if they gave Tavira her promised cut, there would be more than enough left over to pursue all their ambitions.
More than enough.
The Tevas-kaar watched from his normal guard position on Invidious' bridge. The ship's bridge windows swirled with the light of hyperspace, but it would not be long before their arrival at Linuri now. Further along the elevated bridge floor, Moff Vorru was providing instructions to the Invidious' new communications officer. He was about the same age as Navarian had been, but wore nervousness of youth and inexperience. No doubt he, along with the rest of the bridge crew, noted Navarian's rather pronounced absence.
He would have refused to execute the man himself, had he been asked; such was below his honor. It didn't matter; Tavira had been more than happy to do it herself.
The Admiral, or Moff, or Pirate-Lord, or whatever title she was styling herself with now, was clearly unhappy. The angry glances she shot at Vorru regularly were proof enough of that, as were her lingering gazes at the Invidious' blackened hull, stretched out below the ship's bridge. Invidious was her weapon and her toy, cherished and needed in equal measure. Her need to rend and exact vengeance had not been fully sated, but he knew from experience that it would fade—though never fully burn out.
At least she is true to what she is, he thought. She is no silent schemer, like Vorru is. There is honor in that, of a sort.
"Reversion in five," drawled the officer overseeing the helm.
Tavira and Vorru were talking quietly now, discussing and finalizing their plans. The Tevas-kaar stepped closer to maintain the proper distance, which conveniently also took him within easy earshot, even without using a Force enhancement. Though coming close was not necessary at this moment, as the volume of their conversation grew.
"—will tell Moff Disra that we have engaged the Rebellion on multiple occasions and require aid to continue our campaign," Tavira was saying energetically. "It has the benefit of even being true… Disra will then demand to see our credentials and place us at the bottom of the Linuri maintenance list." Her expression soured. "Which could force us to wait weeks or even months."
Vorru bowed his head deferentially. "I believe I can see to it that Invidious is moved to the top of that list, Moff Tavira," he replied. The crew all used her military rank, but Vorru used the civilian title likely because, in the old Imperial hierarchy, Moffs always outranked Admirals. Since Vorru was using the title himself, he had to offer it to Tavira as well, or he would in effect be claiming to be her superior. The title, combined with his obvious deference, were a salve to Tavira's ego.
And Vorru may be a schemer, the Tevas-kaar thought silently, his face hot under his white d'oemir bear mask, but at least he has the brains to scheme properly. And he is secure enough not to need his ego constantly catered to. His respect for the man ticked up. Maybe Vorru would live longer than he'd originally expected.
"I will need a secure location for communications," Vorru said. "You can listen in, of course," he continued before Tavira could object, "but it is important that Disra not know that you are listening, and that no one else hears anything I have to say to him." Vorru smiled thinly. "The threat of exposure is only effective at inducing behavior before it has been carried out, after all."
Tavira considered, then nodded. "You may use my office," she agreed. "I haven't had much use for it since I took command of Invidious, but it has a full communications suite suitable for any officer of flag rank."
"Excellent," Vorru smiled.
"Reversion in one!" called the helm.
"Shall we, Moff Tavira?" asked Vorru.
Her answering smile was humorless and hungry.
The Moff's office in Kinham, the largest city on the Imperial-held world of Linuri, was not as opulent as it ought to have been. The fine furniture, crafted painstakingly out of Cardooine Fijisi wood, would have been adequate for a mid-rim Moff's office during the height of the Empire, but the artistry was substandard compared to some of the offices that Vilim Disra had served in. And Linuri was a poor replacement for the world that ought to have been his sector capital, Druckenwell. Linuri was prettier and more picturesque, but that was about all it had to offer. There was little native industry for him to exploit and little trade to tax. Linuri's sole appeal was the Imperial sector base—the very last major Imperial fleet base in the galactic southeast.
Why did I have to get Doldur sector? Disra thought sourly, looking out the massive office windows and down upon the city below. A lake stretched out into the distance, with small sailing ships—a local obsession—gently gliding through the calm waves. It was a nice city, he thought, but not a wealthy one. Not by the standards of an Imperial Moff. And with the Imperial base here, it did not even get the tourism revenue it ought, leaving a content, quiet, pleasant little city that offered nothing else. Why couldn't I have gotten Braxant, or Shelsha? Anything outside the Outer Rim would be better than this.
And worse, with Garm Bel Iblis working his way through the neighboring Albrion sector and the remainder of the Empire's holdings in the local Outer Rim, it was only a matter of time before the New Republic came for him here. Admiral Rogriss' squadron of Star Destroyers could hold for a while, he hoped and assumed, but Disra was under no illusions about the eventual fate of this region of space. His rule, such as it was, had a steadily approaching expiration date.
Disra stalked around his office agitatedly. Forty years of hard work, forty years of scheming and plotting and backstabbing. Forty years of slow progress punctuated by exuberant promotion. And what had it gotten him, ultimately? An office on a small, meaningless world. A moderate amount of wealth. He sneered out the window at Kinham below. A scenic view.
His desk com buzzed and he stepped over to it and smacked it with more force than was really necessary. His bony hand stung from the impact. "What?"
"Moff Disra, a Star Destroyer has just entered the system," the crisp, professional voice of the officer-on-watch—Disra forgot his name, Kelson or Kelso or Kelsin or something—said. "IFF reads it as the Star Destroyer Invidious, last reported as an independent. There's an Admiral Tavira aboard who wants to speak with you."
A Star Destroyer? And not Rogriss? Strange, Disra mused silently. He stepped behind the desk and brought up all the information the system had on Invidious. Last in the possession of Admiral Teradoc, in the Deep Core… An Imperial-II class Star Destroyer outmatched any of the mobile units of Linuri's picket individually, but it would stand little chance against the combined power of his Golan defense platforms.
He then looked up Tavira and skimmed her service record. Formerly the Moff of Ado sector, some maneuvering for power since she was expelled from Ado's capital world… "Did she say what she wants?"
"No sir, she refused to talk to anyone but you. She said it was a matter of great importance."
Disra sighed. "Very well, put her through." He sat behind his desk, aligning himself with the Imperial banner to provide a properly imposing backdrop.
The screen flickered and a face appeared, but it was not Leonia Tavira. An older man, distinguished and confident, wearing a Moff's uniform fit well to his frame. An older man Disra recognized immediately, and his heart froze in his chest.
"Hello, Vilim," Moff Fliry Vorru said with a smile, cold as ice. "It's been a long time." Vorru steepled his hands together, leaning them against his chest as his smile grew thin. "I was gratified to hear you'd finally been promoted to Moff, after all these years. You've come a long way from your post as my administrative aide in the Corellian office."
Disra's eyes were wide with shock. Vorru was locked away on Kessel, which was a death trap that had dozens of deaths daily, no one survived! But Vorru was Vorru and his game hadn't been all mystique and misdirection. Trust a mynock like him to not only survive, but to prosper in such a power vacuum.
With a ragged breath, Disra searched for poise. It was hard to come by under Vorru's agonizingly smug gaze. "Fliry," he said, trying to match casual familiarity with casual familiarity, and proud at how calm he sounded. "I didn't know you had escaped Kessel."
"But I did, no thanks to you," Vorru said, smiling the same thin, vulture smile that Disra remembered from when he'd been Vorru's aide. "Then again, I never did think we were friends. You never met a man you wouldn't sell for a promotion." Vorru's fingers tapped together, watching Disra with the same cool regard that effortlessly stripped away poise and gravitas earned through his years of service and survival.
Disra scowled at him. It was true of course, but that was just how the Empire worked! That's what it took to be a Moff. And to be lectured on ethics and loyalty by Vorru of all people! "I don't remember you doing me any favors!" he hissed stridently.
Vorru snorted contemptuously. "Didn't I? How many of those pirate and smuggler connections that you made, did you make at my behest? How many people did I introduce you to? How many of those connections have you used to your own benefit?" Vorru's smile was smug, with a hint of menace; his voice grew quiet to match. "And how did you repay me?"
"I owed you nothing," Disra spat at him, his hands slapping on his desk as he came half out of his chair. "You would have left me as a secretary! There was no future in your service. I toiled, and I toiled, and for what? Additional leave?"
"Fail to serve me now and you'll have plenty of leave, but you won't be using it as you'd wish," Vorru said coldly, his eyes flashing with a touch of the old anger. "Because as it stands, I could use your service once again, Vilim." Vorru unlaced his hands and leaned towards the viewer. "Invidious is in need of repairs. You will place the Star Destroyer on the top of the Linuri Repair Yard's priority list. If anyone asks, you will tell them that Invidious is in your personal service, and that her precise role is classified. You can make up something about ISB to deflect any questions. And you will provide me with any additional supply and service that I or Invidious require."
"And why," Disra spat back, feeling his cheeked redden with embarrassment and anger, "would I do any such thing?!"
"Because," Vorru's eyes narrowed to slits, and then his lips morphed back into his cold, vulture smile. "If you do not, I will send all my evidence of your activities to the Moff Council and the Imperial Starfleet command. All the deals with pirates. All the arrangements with Black Sun. All your treasonous activities in the Shelsha sector. Everything, Vilim. And then I will sit back and see how long it takes for you to be executed for treason."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Disra retorted, his heart pounding in his chest. "I am a loyal—"
"You are loyal to nothing and no one!" Vorru exploded, snarling with a rage that Disra had not forgotten the man could possess. Disra flinched back despite himself. The fire in Vorru's eyes blazed, and then passed as the man settled back, steepling his hands together again, his calm restored. "Did you think I lost everything when Palpatine destroyed my career, Vilim? Did you think I would not have security, to keep my most important secrets?" His smile was vicious. "I know, Vilim. I know everything. Do not forget that."
Disra couldn't help himself. "I got into all that because you told me to!" he snarled angrily. "I worked for you."
"And so you will again," Vorru agreed, his tone oddly friendly now. "Won't you?"
Disra could feel the urge to hyperventilate building in his gut. Suddenly all the problems with Linuri, the woes of his stalled career, the looming threat of Bel Iblis, none of it mattered. He knew Fliry Vorru, and he knew better than to underestimate the man. He forced it all back. "What do I get?" he said, trying to match the other man's calm.
"What do you get?" Vorru laughed. "What do you get, Vilim?"
"Yes," Disra snarled. "What do I get. You clearly need me, Fliry. Destroying me won't get you repairs on your Star Destroyer, or whatever else it is that you want from me. So," he sneered, eyes narrowing. "What. Do. I. Get."
Vorru's smile was slow and genuine—or a reasonable facsimile of genuine. "There's the Disra I remember," he mused. "Ambitious and bold. Good. I can use that Disra." He tapped his fingers together again, watching Disra with a patient, curious smile. "Shall we make a deal?"
"Could you really destroy him?" asked Leonia Tavira after Vorru had disabled the viewer. Her violet eyes were keen and she seemed somewhat energized after having watched the exchange.
"Of course," Vorru replied. "An important rule, Tavira, one to remember: do not make threats you cannot keep."
That seemed to amuse her. She stood, brushing her hands over her slacks then adjusting her bandanna. "I will return to the bridge and oversee our arrival at the Linuri repair facility. A full refit will likely take weeks," she mused thoughtfully. "Invidious was long overdue even before the damage we sustained."
"Palpatine had the Imperial-II designed to require regular repair," Vorru said, remaining seated. "It was a way of ensuring his commanders could not exercise too much independence." He lifted a hand to stop her from exiting the room. "I will be leaving in the morning, along with Eliezer and the Tevas-kaar. I will also need a civilian freighter and a pilot."
Tavira frowned at him, but this request was not unexpected. It had always been part of the plan, after all. "Fine," she agreed grudgingly. "I'll see to it." She turned and left.
Vorru relaxed, smiling to himself. Depending on the speed of the ship she procured for him, it would be a short hop from Linuri to Druckenwell, then a relatively quick trip along the Corellian Run from Druckenwell to Coruscant. And then, he thought smugly, it will be time to take back what is mine.