Chapter Thirteen
The Lefler's Rose sat, inconspicuous, in a cheap landing bay far from the Imperial Palace and the seat of the New Republic government. Coruscant was a whole universe of its own, so large and so densely populated that the New Republic hadn't even tried to organize and run the planet itself. In truth, the New Republic's presence on the planet sometimes felt like an island, isolated in and around the Palace District and on the highest levels of Coruscant's metropolitan canyons. Go too far outside that District, or descend down to the lower levels, and Coruscant became autonomous, with billions of people living their lives as they had under the Empire and the Old Republic.
Vorru had been an integral part of that world, once. Not that long ago, even. His tendrils of power and authority and fear and respect had snaked through Coruscant's impenetrable web of power, both legal and illegal (get far enough down and the two were often difficult to differentiate). As he had as Moff of Corellia, Vorru had entwined all the elements of influence and used them to control the people who needed to be controlled, free the people who needed to be freed.
He had respected the way Palpatine had always done the same, and Vorru's ability to emulate Palpatine (and in some ways, in this small regard even surpass him, he thought proudly), had probably been why Palpatine had finally eliminated Vorru as a threat.
The Tevas-kaar had emerged from his room on the ship only occasionally since their arrival, days before, while Eliezer had slowly extended his holographic tendrils into Coruscant's computers. First the Drall had compromised the system's HoloNet, and from there it's traffic control computers. Eliezer had a gift for system infiltration, steadily finding one weakness after another through Coruscant's myriad web of integrated networks. Searching.
Vorru had spent the days productively himself. His network of alliances and the memory of his authority was not so far gone to be forgotten, especially in Coruscant's criminal underworld. Black Sun, the oldest and most powerful criminal organization in the galaxy, was centered on Coruscant (just as the Empire and Republic had been; everyone came to Coruscant eventually), and Vorru steadily, surreptitiously collected information about its current operations and leadership. He had come to Coruscant for two reasons, and Black Sun was one.
There was a tiny voice whispering on the other side of his comm. "We've just been given notice," the Coruscanti accent said, hushed and staticky. Communications on Coruscant could be tricky, what with all the structures and people crammed into every square kilometer. "Also, there's a rumor floating around the underground that Fliry Vorru has escaped from Kessel," the voice continued. "The Vigos are nervous that he might make a play to retake control of Black Sun. I haven't seen so much commotion at the executive level since Savan made her play for the organization a few years back."
Vorru smiled thinly. Commotion was good. "Vorru was competent," he said smoothly, Eliezer's whipped-together voice synthesizer changing his voice and accent. "But hardly worth commotion."
"I'm not sure," the voice replied. "Don't spread this around, but I think Acib has never been happy about the fact that Vorru is still alive at all. I think he tried to have him assassinated after he was returned to Kessel to take him out of the picture, but we never got confirmation of his death."
No, they wouldn't have, Vorru thought smugly. Those assassins didn't do so well after they breached Kessel's atmosphere. Not with the tons of explosive I had planted under their landing pad.
"He seems convinced that Vorru will come here and try to take control of the organization," the voice continued. "The rest of us aren't so certain… and many of us aren't that scared by the possibility anyway. There's still a lot of respect for Vorru in these parts. People remember how well he ran both Corellia and its criminal underworld. Acib is concerned that if Vorru presents himself as an alternative, that the other Vigos will turn on him and flock to Vorru's banner again."
"Would they?" Vorru asked calmly.
"Hard to say. From what I remember of Vorru, he'd come with an offer, not just a threat. It would depend on what he has to give."
Vorru nodded to himself. "Perhaps I should send my own representative to this meeting of the Vigos. Do you know when and where it'll be held?"
There was a rustle on the other side of the comm. "Sure, I can forward you the information." There was a pause, then Vorru's comm beeped. He briefly plugged it into his datapad and smiled as he saw the needed information. "Sent."
"Thank you, Roeder," Vorru said, the voice synthesizer translating it into a slick Muunilist accent.
"Sure. And remember, you didn't get any of this from me." The comm click off.
Vorru examined the information that Roeder had sent him. It was worth the expenditure of credits - most of what was left of Vorru's supply. A Muunilist banker could afford to pay well for information, and paying well for information was the only thing that had opened Roeder's normally tight lips.
He stretched, smiling to himself. If all else went to plan, his temporary bankruptcy would be just that. If not, there were plenty of ways he could raise a tidy sum of credits quickly. More than one well-heeled member of the New Republic's aristocracy had secrets they would pay to keep, and there were numerous members of the Imperial aristocracy still on Coruscant who would pay even better to keep their previous Imperial ties relegated to forgotten history. Blackmail came with certain risks, though, that Vorru would prefer to avoid taking.
"Tonight?" Eleizer's voice came from the other side of the room.
"Tonight," Vorru agreed.
"Sooner than we hoped," Eliezer pointed out. "It would be better if we could take care of the other half of our objectives here before attempting to satisfy these." He coughed, leaning back in his not-quite-comfortable chair, his claws stroking its arms gently. "As it stands, you won't have very much to offer."
"I'll have enough," Vorru countered. "From all reports, the Vigos are chafing under Acib's leadership. If I give them a way to get out from under him, they'll take it. Especially if I combine the offer I make them with a sufficient display of force." He glanced down the hall towards the Tevas-kaar's chambers.
Eliezer coughed some more. "Mmm," he hummed as he recovered, wiping his mouth with the back of his furred hand, his beady black eyes narrowing. "Well, if I'm to achieve that second set of objectives, I'm afraid I'm going to need more direct access. I can't do it all from here."
Vorru's eyes turned towards him, a frown crossing his face. "You've always been able to breach any computer network remotely," he said, dark suspicion crossing his gaze. Eliezer was his friend—of sorts—but that didn't mean the Drall wouldn't betray him if he thought it was in his best interest…
The Drall slicer laughed, a hacking sound. "You've never asked me to penetrate Ysanne Isard's intelligence net before. I wouldn't be able to penetrate NRI either. The intelligence types are usually much too competent and cautious to leave the kinds of vulnerabilities that Senate aides do." He tapped the keyboard. "But, it's not all bad news. Isard seems to have set up a network of safehouses all around the planet. Once I found one, I was able to find the rest, they've got their own internal network. But to penetrate all their layers of security, I'm going to need direct access. We'll have to pick one of the sites and infiltrate it—and, most unfortunately, I'll have to come with you. The good news is they seem to be abandoned." He waved a datapad at Vorru. "I've put together a list of the best targets."
Vorru walked across and took the pad, examining it quickly. "Do you need any help, or can you do this on your own?"
Eliezer shrugged. "I should be able to manage on my own, if I'm left undisturbed."
The datapad listed a number of sites, some more remote than others. A handful were in particularly not-remote locations. There was even one in the Imperial Palace itself, one of the Palace towers, though Eliezer had taken that one off the list as impractical. "No, we'll do it together," Vorru said after a moment. "After we've got backup from Black Sun and when the Tevas-kaar can protect us as we work. In the meantime, I want you to pick one of these sites… whichever one seems like it would be least likely to attract the Republic's attention, and set up a half-dozen escape plans in case something goes wrong." He frowned at Eliezer. "I don't want us to underestimate General Cracken. If you were able to find this network of Isard's safehouses, then he might be able to also."
"It's possible," Eliezer conceded. "They do seem defunct, but all right." He leaned up and over his keyboard, his claws clacking away.
Vorru frowned. There were all too many ways this could go wrong, he knew. But really, what did any of them have to lose? He left Eliezer to his slicing and went to fetch the Tevas-kaar. It was time for the man to play the role that Vorru needed him to play.
The Tevas-kaar was decidedly uncomfortable out of his armor and without his mask, but there was nothing to be done about it.
One of the common misperceptions about Black Sun was that it operated strictly in the shadows, under the radar of all the galaxy's legitimate authorities. When people thought of Black Sun—those that didn't know it intimately—they thought of gangs operating in shadowy twilight, or dark figures looming in backgrounds, or all the theatrical imagery nonsense that many of Black Sun's historic leaders had long cultivated. But Black Sun had existed for thousands of years, and the organizations that preceded Black Sun had existed for thousands of years before that. It operated in the shadows, yes, but it also had ties aplenty to business and politics all around the galaxy, and when its leaders met, they often did so publicly.
The Argosy District was on the far side of Coruscant from the Senate District. As ancient as all of Coruscant's primary metropolitan and business centers, the Argosy District featured some of the tallest skyscrapers the ecumenopolis had to offer, and they were stuffed full of businessmen and politicians who often straddled the thin line between legal and illegal. Under the Empire that distinction had grown even thinner as Imperial politicians and military officers had used all kinds of illegal means to hide away their mountains of ill-gotten wealth where the Imperial tax collectors couldn't get to it.
Palpatine had allowed it, up to a point. If ever one took more than they were implicitly permitted, though, one of his agents would find them, and deal with them quietly. Their disappearance was enough of a message for the rest.
The Tevas-kaar frowned, memories flooding back to him. The disgruntlement, or the fury, or the fear…
Different places often had different emotional resonance. The Jhunia planes had been desolate, with little in the way of human life, leaving just a steady, serene solitude, while Yumfla had a mundane, familial joy once you got far enough away from the Imperial garrison. The emotions of the Argosy District were a cacophonous mess. Greed and lust and fear and inadequacy and desperation and glory all clawed at each other. With a breath, he reduced the sensitivity of his empathic sense, but they continued to hum in the background of his mind as the shuttle approached their destination.
Eyrie Tower was the center of the Argosy District, an enormous structure, opaque walls stretching up against the backdrop of Coruscant's setting sun, transitioning into transparisteel and elaborate buttresses that combined architectural styles both pre-Republican and post-Imperial, and then a large flat landing pad on the roof.
Traffic around it was busy, a steady stream of aircars landing and departing. The Black Sun leadership meetings often took place in plain sight (up until you actually got to the conference table), and the current Underlord of Black Sun, Y'ull Acib, believed more than most that it was best not to hew too close to the shadows. That was convenient, as it ensured that their approach would not be immediately concerning. Their landing, however, would draw unwanted attention.
Vorru was not wearing his Moff's uniform, but a simple black pseudo-military tunic and jacket, trimmed with gold. That was a statement, the Tevas-kaar knew. Wearing black and gold was a sign of leadership, of dominance. But, far worse from Acib's perspective, was the scarf Vorru had added to the outfit; a deep, royal purple. Vorru's outfit was reflective of a past Underlord of Black Sun, its most successful in centuries: the Prince Xizor. Xizor had amassed a fortune, rumored to be of the same magnitude as the Emperor and Lord Vader's personal fortunes, and he had done it by commanding Black Sun's criminal and legitimate business enterprises with a single-minded drive and cunning—and charisma—that few could match.
Vorru was one of the few. Him arriving at this meeting dressed as he was would be perceived as no less than a declaration of war. But then, it was a declaration of war, and the Tevas-kaar was going to have to fight it.
The shuttle swooped towards the tower, over the archaic stone buttresses and towering glass, descending towards the neat grid of parked airspeeders. They settled down between the markings, close to the entrance to the tower, and the shuttle rocked gently as it touched down.
"Are you ready?" Vorru asked him.
The question was slightly insulting. He favored it with a minimal response, the barest of acknowledging nods.
That was enough for Vorru, whose thin, predatory smile was eager with anticipation. "Very well." He settled the scarf around his neck, Coruscant's evening air providing just enough of a chill to justify its use as more than a prop. "After you, Tevas-kaar," Vorru bowed slightly.
They exited the shuttle, leaving their pilot behind in case they needed to make a quick escape. There was already a small team of security guards approaching them casually, but with a slight military gait. Black Sun enforcers; probably off-duty members of the Coruscant Constabulary at that, the Tevas-kaar thought with distaste. The leader, wearing a Sergeant's insignia on his collar, held up the palm of his hand. "Stop, and announce yourselves," he ordered.
"We are residents of the tower," Vorru said smoothly, his scarf fluttering in the evening breeze. The former Moff had his hands folded behind him, his chin held high with not the slightest concern betrayed by his almost regal expression.
"Your vessel is not registered to any residents of Eyrie Tower," the man responded skeptically. He waved forward another of the security guards, who secured his blaster in his holster with a click before approaching, intent on searching them. "You will state your names and your reason for being here at once."
"I'm sorry," Vorru's voice was apologetic without sounding too apologetic, "the shuttle is a recent purchase and we haven't had time to formally register it. We do have the purchase paperwork aboard, if you want to come see it—"
"You will state your names and your reasons for being here," the Sergeant repeated, his voice hard. The third guard brought his blaster rifle up to cover them—the Tevas-kaar could see that it was set to stun, as the guard's companion reached him and Vorru. Vorru's eyes flicked up to his, and—
Reaching out with the Force, the Tevas-kaar twitched the guard's blaster slightly to the right and pushed back the trigger. The weapon erupted and the stun blast struck the guard reaching for Vorru in the back, the coronal effects catching the Tevas-kaar and sending an unpleasant, numbing sensation through his left arm, his fingers tingling. The Sergeant was turning to stare at the guard whose blaster had just fired, his mouth parting to give a furious order; the guard was staring at his weapon in shock, and neither of them was looking at the right person.
A holdout blaster popped into Vorru's hand and he shot them both, one quick, precisely aimed blaster bolt driving into each of them. The Sergeant fell, clutching at his chest and reaching for his wristcom as he struggled to breathe. The Tevas-kaar stepped on his hand, holding it to the permacrete surface as he expired. The final guard was still wearing his expression of surprise, but Vorru's bolt had struck him in the heart and killed him instantly.
Vorru calmly put his holdout back under his jacket. "Eliezer can cover for their absence for a while, but we don't know how often they have to check in. We should hurry," he said, unruffled.
The Tevas-kaar lifted his foot off the Sergeant's hand, then reached down and removed his wristcom. He attached it to his own wrist, tapped it to make sure it was working, and nodded his… if not agreement, then at least his obedience.
The trip from the landing pad to the Black Sun meeting site was not very complicated. Eliezer had scrambled the tower's computers before they arrived, leaving the surveillance equipment that normally watched every lift and every hallway seeing and remembering nothing but static, and turning most of the tower's guard droids into pliable, almost bizarrely friendly automatons that greeted everyone with the same dull lack of curiosity.
The conference room was inconspicuous. A normal, frequently used business space (much unlike the elaborate, intricately ornate spaces that Xizor had favored, back when Black Sun had been untouchable), the varied leaders of the organization were all present in the doors beyond. Eliezer had confirmed the arrival of all but one of the Black Sun vigos that now served—with varying degrees of reluctance—the Underlord Y'ull Acib.
Vorru and Acib had been prisoners together, on Kessel. They had escaped (of sorts) together. Eventually they parted ways, with Acib staying on Coruscant to run Black Sun, while Vorru served as Ysanne Isard's aide-de-camp (and functioning brain). Acib was ambitious, cunning, short-sighted, and desperately, loathsomely greedy. He also had always secretly been envious of Vorru, and Vorru had always expected Acib would eventually stab him in the back.
Under such circumstances, it was best to be the one doing the stabbing.
Vorru and the Tevas-kaar stopped in the hall outside the conference room, leaving two more subdued guards in their wake. The Tevas-kaar moved next to the door, closing his eyes and doing something with the Force that Vorru couldn't begin to understand. He was no less intimidating without his armor and mask, Vorru thought, but he also seemed less otherworldly without them. "Are they in there," Vorru asked.
The Tevas-kaar nodded. "I sense eight presences," he said. "Two humans, six aliens of different races."
"There are always eight Vigos and the Underlord, according to Black Sun traditions," Vorru replied, "so that would mean one is absent, or present only holographically."
"They're agitated," the Tevas-kaar said, resting his hand on the door. "Arguing. Some of them are quite unnerved." He paused for a long moment, concentrating. "But there's no sense of imminent danger. I don't think they know we're here yet."
"Then we should intrude before they realize," Vorru mused with satisfaction. "Are you ready?"
The Tevas-kaar withdrew his hand from the door and straightened, bringing himself to his full, imposing height. "I am," he assented. His hands flexed as he brushed one over the lightsaber that hung from his belt, and the tall man's brown eyes darkened with focus.
"Excellent." Vorru smiled and pressed the door release.
"[—know as well as the rest of us that Black Sun's profits have never recovered from Xizor's demise]," a deep voice was saying in Huttese with furious tones. Durga, Vorru thought. Black Sun's second most powerful leader; the most powerful outside of the Galactic Core.
Inside the room were nine figures surrounding a table. At the head of the table was Acib, who looked as Vorru remembered him. White hair cut military short (though Acib had never served in a military), paired with flamboyantly bushy black eyebrows; high, ridged cheekbones and a dark, perpetually angry scowl that had long since been permanently etched into his face. Vorru wanted to say that Kessel had caused those lines, but Acib had them even before Kessel.
Along one side of the table were four Vigos. Lonay, a Twi'lek and one of their chief connections to the smuggler fringe, sat closest to Acib. He was a survivor and a coward and would let himself be blown whichever way the breeze carried him; Vorru categorized him immediately as not a threat. Next to him was Kreet'ah, a Kian'thar whose connections with the galaxy's shipbuilders ran deep; like all of his species, Kreet'ah was a natural empath who could sense confidence and fear. Clezo was next, the Rodian who served as Black Sun's personnel officer, responsible for hiring and… eliminating… Black Sun's membership, which quietly made him one of the most powerful people in the room. At the end was the glowing blue holographic form of Durga, the Hutt.
On the other side of the table were the other four Vigos. Wumdi and Sprax he recognized; both were old Black Sun hands (Sprax was a rival of Durga, and would likely side against him if given any opportunity). The remaining two, a human and a Quarren, Vorru didn't recognize. They must be the newest Vigos, both recruited since the last time Vorru had been in active circulation. While he did not know their faces, he was well enough informed to put a name to one face: the human had to be Roeder. Roeder, Vorru knew from experience, could be bought.
The room turned as he and the Tevas-kaar entered, men and aliens half-rising from their chairs in surprise, hands reaching for blasters. Vorru smiled, unconcerned, and the Tevas-kaar reached out a hand. Weapons flew through the air towards him; vibroblades and blasters alike smacking with force into the wall behind them; metal and permacrete cracking violently from the sudden impact. Ruined weapons fell to the floor.
The shock of it sent a stunned, disarmed silence through the room, and Vorru smiled confidently into the void. "Gentlemen," he bowed his head respectfully, but his grey eyes were hard and his lips bespoke ruthless certainty. "It is with the greatest of joys that I am here to be with you once again."
Durga—unsurprisingly, given the advantage of his distance from events—was the first to respond, even with the lag of the HoloNet. He laughed his slow, rolling Huttese laugh. "[So the rumors are true]," the Hutt said, his enormous, sluglike body shifting. "[The Corellian is not so dead as Acib would have us believe]."
Vorru lifted his chin, the gesture drawing attention to the purple scarf around his neck. "Did any of you really think I would be so easily restrained? That I did not have all I needed to control my own destiny? That Kessel would be able to hold me?"
"Vorru," Acib said, his voice low and gravelly and confident. If Vorru had not known him so well, he would have missed the slight quiver of fear, the subtle tremble of Acib's now-empty gun hand. "Welcome back to Coruscant."
"Thank you," Vorru replied, bowing his head mock-deferentially. "May I introduce you to my Tevas-kaar," he nodded his head to the Tevas-kaar's looming, powerful form, letting them all focus on the man; see his extended hand, which had lifted just as their weapons had been taken from them, and see the lightsaber hanging prominently from his belt. "I have a proposal for you all," Vorru interrupted their gazes once he was quite certain they had observed all he wished them to. "And you all know that I keep my word, and honor my bargains."
Acib stirred, opening his mouth to object, but was cut off by Roeder. "And what is this proposal," Roeder asked with his clipped Coruscanti accept. He was of medium height and build, nondescript in that typical handsome smuggler way. There was a hint of suspicion in his eyes, and Vorru let his eyes meet Roeder's for the briefest of instants, offering confirmation.
"We do not—" Acib objected, but Vorru cut him off.
"As you all no doubt know," Vorru spoke firmly, "when I was Moff of Corellia, Black Sun was at its most profitable. Government and profit were not at odds, but were as one." He clasped his hands together in a firm gesture that he knew would be especially communicative to some of the aliens around the table, for whom basic was not their first language. "I can and will restore that relationship, though it will take time and effort and perhaps," his eyes flicked to each person at the table, "sacrifice."
Acib started to object again and was interrupted again, this time by Kreet'ah. "Go on," the large Kian'thar said, and Vorru smiled to himself. That Kreet'ah had interrupted Acib meant he sensed Vorru's confidence and Acib's fear, and that would not go unnoticed by the others at the table.
"I know that Black Sun has waned since the death of Xizor. His heirs have not been equal to the lofty standards set by the Prince of House Sizhran," Vorru continued. "All of you have suffered as the New Republic has taken system after system, cracked down on your activities, enforced laws even the Old Republic had forgotten." He lifted his hands in a welcoming gesture, palms up. "Your fortunes have waned, your colleagues have gone independent, and many have joined Talon Karrde's new Smugglers' Alliance."
There was a ripple of discontent at that last.
"I can restore us," Vorru continued. "Restore our independence, or freedom, or sense of adventure and our profits. I can bring back what was lost with Xizor."
"How," Acib growled, standing now, his black eyebrows narrowed in a fury.
"Do you doubt me, Y'ull?" Vorru asked quietly. "Do you doubt the one who brought such prosperity to us all? Who made the galaxy safe for the rise of Black Sun under the Empire? Who set the stage for Xizor's reign?"
"The one who fell with Corellia? Who Palpatine locked in a cage? Who abandoned Black Sun to serve Isard like a leashed, domesticated sheep?" Acib countered.
Vorru could hear the desperation in Acib's voice. His eyes flicked to Kreet'ah, and knew that the empath could feel it was well. "And yet, here I am," Vorru replied. "Undiminished. Stronger than ever." He nodded subtly at the Tevas-kaar, and his smile widened even as his eyes hardened. He turned away from Acib, turning his attention to the other Vigos. It was time to drop all pretense. "I ask you for nothing," he said, "nothing but service that will make all of us stronger. I will not require tithes, I have no need of them. I will not require gifts as Xizor did, my ego requires no such stroking. I will require only loyalty and service; your wealth is your own, for the enrichment of us all."
The human, Roeder, crossed his arms. "What service is that?"
Acib was standing fully now, his expression a mix of fury and outrage. "I am the Underlord, Fliry, and you have no claim to—"
Vorru held up a finger and Acib's voice suddenly cut off in a sudden gasping choke. He reached for his throat as he sagged forward against the table, gagging; next to Vorru, the Tevas-kaar's forefinger and thumb slowly moved towards one another.
Vorru didn't make eye contact with any of the Vigos, walking around the table at a slow, ceremonial pace as the only sounds in the room were of Durga's holoemitter and Acib's slow choking. He stopped next to Acib, at the head of the table, and leaned towards the gasping man. "I have a claim to whatever I can take, Acib, as has always been the rule of Black Sun, is that not so?" He looked down the table now, gazing at each of the other eight Vigos. "Is that not so?"
Durga's Huttese laugh rolled over them.
It had been a long time since Vorru had held a room in the palm of his hand; the sensation was almost giddy. He leaned towards Acib, his lips against the man's ear as he whispered. "You should have come to get me, Y'ull. I would have made you rich. Instead, you will make me king."
It was done almost before anyone realized it; the vibroknife in Vorru's hand soaked with Acib's blood. Vorru was careful not to let any get onto his scarf; the purple would stain, but if it got onto his outfit it would be hidden easily enough by the black fabric. The corpse hit the floor and vanished under the table.
Vorru slowly took Acib's seat. "If we are to be restored," he said conversationally, his tone friendly, "we must start with two steps." He watched the other Vigos until they sat down once more, with varying degrees of reluctance. "First, we must regain that which was lost with Xizor's death. Second—" he waited until he was sure he had their full and undivided attention "—we must destroy the Smugglers' Alliance."
Vorru remained after the Vigos departed, one by one. Durga had been the most recalcitrant, but he too had accepted Vorru's leadership over the organization—although Vorru had no doubt that the Hutt would turn on him the moment he either sensed weakness or saw opportunity. The Hutt crime cartels had long had an erratic relationship with Black Sun, both treasured partner and frequent rival. That was all right with Vorru, though. He didn't need Durga's active participation, just his acquiescence, at least for now.
The others were more important, as they were more proximate. In particular, Vorru needed one: the newest one. He stopped Roeder before the only other human Vigo could exit. "Vigo Roeder, if you would. I have a request."
The Coruscanti native stopped, his expression both speculative and slightly wary.
Vorru would never trust him, of course. Not after it had been so easy to bribe the man with Muunilisti currency. But Roeder didn't know that, and Vorru still had use for him.
"What is it you need?" Roeder asked obediently.
"You are the sole Coruscanti Vigo," Vorru pointed out, folding his hands in his lap as he looked up at Roeder from his chair. "My time on Coruscant may well be brief," he continued, gratified to see the look of relief in Roeder's eyes at that news, "but while I am here, I have certain tasks that must be accomplished. To accomplish those tasks, I may require certain support. You seem best placed to provide that support."
"I may be," Roeder agreed, his eyes now gleaming with something other than speculation and wariness.
Avarice. Excellent.
"I will need a well-equipped team of mercenaries, or otherwise combat capable fighters, who will be willing to fight the New Republic in the event that becomes necessary. I am not sure that it will be, but it may be, and as we all know, preparation is the root of all victory." Vorru smiled. "They will likely also need to be able to move unnoticed through Coruscant's security net, so that they do not themselves attract attention when the time comes." He brushed some invisible lint off his knee. "Can you provide what I need, Vigo Roeder?"
Roeder nodded slowly. "I believe I can, yes. It will not be costless. It will require me to use long-husbanded assets that, if lost, will not be easily replaced."
"I understand entirely," Vorru agreed. "Nonetheless, assets that are never used waste away slowly, lost to time."
Roeder inclined his head slightly. "They are there to be used."
Vorru smiled. "Excellent. I will send you more information in the morning. Good evening, Vigo Roeder."
Roeder inclined his head again, this time offering a slightly deeper bow, and retreated from the room, leaving Vorru alone with the Tevas-kaar, who watched him go with a sort of dismissive disinterest.
Roeder was a snake, Vorru thought. But snakes had their uses, at least from time to time. And in this case, it was exactly that Roeder was a snake that made him useful. After all, a Vigo who wore the uniform of a Colonel in the Coruscant Constabulary was a snake used to living amongst a horde of Rihnessian mongooses, and it was exactly that kind of snake that Vorru needed.