Chapter Three: Assets

Cipher Nine was trying to nap her way to Dromund Kaas. Her sleep was uneasy, her anxiety over the Sith manifesting itself through nightmares in which faceless robed figures hunted her across a wasteland.

When her holocommunicator woke her, it was actually a relief.

"Cipher Nine." Keeper's expressionless face regarded her. "My apologies for waking you."

She stood immediately. "Sir."

"I fear your journey is going to be interrupted," he said. "I just received a communication from Grand Moff Kilran."

"The Butcher of Coruscant?"

Kilran was infamous. He had led the military during the Sacking of Coruscant, and had encouraged maximum brutality among his soldiers. The civilian death count had earned him his nickname, one that he reportedly relished.

"Quite." Keeper's voice was flat, registering neither approval nor disapproval of Kilran. "He reported a situation, one that has the potential to become a crisis. I am trusting you to get it under control."

"Yes, sir." She waited for details.

"22 hours ago, a Republic warship cut into Imperial space. Not by much - It's the sort of intrusion we would normally ignore. But this ship brought aboard a defector. The Republic has labeled him 'The General.' He intends to divulge Imperial military secrets. Our secrets."

From Keeper's intonation, Cipher got the impression that "our secrets" included those of not only the military, but of Imperial Intelligence as well.

"22 hours?" she asked. "Why are we only finding out now?"

"The defector hid his tracks well," Keeper replied. "It took time to register his absence, and more time to deduce what had occurred."

"They'll be in Republic space by now."

"Yes, but we know their location. The ship, the Brentaal Star, is en route to Coruscant. I have sent the exact flight path to your implants." The information registered in her cybernetics even as he made the statement. "Fortunately, they deviated to Tython to take on a Jedi escort. The Black Talon is a fast ship. You should be able to catch up if you leave immediately and at maximum speed."

A Republic warship. The Black Talon would be hopelessly outgunned. That didn't even take into account the Jedi.

"Take command of the ship," Keeper told her. "Darth Zash should be receiving instructions from the Dark Council even as we speak. Defer to her, but do not waver from effectively completing the mission. Darth Jadus confirms that you will not be punished if it becomes necessary to sacrifice the two Sith to complete this mission."

She could not fully conceal her shock at that statement.

"Just who is this traitor?" she asked.

Keeper shook his head. "Not even on a secure channel," he said. "Your window of opportunity is brief, Cipher Nine. Go now. Keeper out."

Cipher paused to collect Zarek, Kaliyo, and Mako. She told them there was an urgent situation and that she had no time to spare for details. They would just have to catch up with the situation as it progressed.

"Be ready to back me up, OK?" she asked Zarek.

She put a slightly winsome note into her smile, appealing to his protective instincts. His answering grunt conveyed two things: The winsomeness wasn't fooling him in the slightest, but he was on her side.

"Within reason," he said aloud.

"Fair enough."

The guards at the bridge eyed them nervously, but let them pass. Evidently, the captain had received his own orders.

Orders he plainly didn't like.

"You must be the Intelligence operative," he said stiffly. "I am Captain Revinal Orzik."

"Cipher Nine," she said. "I assume you've received your instructions?"

"I have," he said. "And I respectfully refuse. The Talon would be destroyed chasing a battleship."

"Refusal is not an option," she told him. "There are Sith aboard. They will execute you as a coward."

"But the window for the mission will pass," he replied. "I am not afraid to die. But I will not throw away the lives of my crew to a suicide run."

"Want me to just shoot him?" Kaliyo asked. She sounded eager, excited at the prospect of violence.

"No." There were too many officers on the bridge. Starting a firefight would be stupid.

Captain Orzik was eyeing Kaliyo, his hand already inching toward his blaster. The anarchist's smirk practically dared him to draw.

Cipher stepped between them.

"Kaliyo, stand down," she ordered. "Captain Orzik, please look at me."

The captain turned back to Cipher. She drew herself erect, a military posture. She drew on her training to present herself as a competent officer, keeping her expression calm and confident. By reflex, she sensed Orzik relaxing slightly.

"I agree with you about suicide missions," she told him. "I have no intention of sacrificing your ship or your crew. If we work together, we can complete this mission and come back alive."

"I expect you believe that," Orzik replied. "I see it differently. The Black Talon is primarily a transport. She's fast, but also small and only lightly armed. The Brentaal Star is a battleship. Any direct engagement would end in our destruction."

"Agreed," she replied. "That's why we won't engage directly. We'll use deception and disruption. Look at our assets. Kaliyo here is an expert at creating chaos. Zarek knows weaponry and tactics. Mako can analyze specs on the spot. She can exploit any weak points, and given a little time will be able to hack into the other ship's systems. And there are two Sith aboard. We'll have to make a plan on the way, but we have the tools to make this work."

Captain Orzik sighed, surrendering.

"Damn Kilran," he muttered. "All right, Cipher Nine. We'll give it a shot." He turned to his First Officer. "Lt. Sylas. Plot the intercept course and engage."

She obeyed promptly. In less than a minute, they were in light speed, heading for Republic territory.

Cipher glanced around. She had expected the Sith to come to the bridge as soon as their orders came through, but there was no sign of them.

"Where are the Sith?" she asked.

Lt. Sylas answered. "Darth Zash insisted on the removal of all communications equipment from her quarters," she said. "She insisted she was not to be disturbed."

Cipher felt her temper rising. "Well, then," she snapped. "You knock on her door and…" The pure terror in Sylas's eyes made Cipher realize just what she was asking. She stopped herself, sighing wearily. "Tell me what rooms the Darth and her apprentice are in. I will attend to it personally."

Reyenna was irritated when the buzzer for her door sounded. She knew it wasn't Zash. Her Master's wintry presence was completely absent. When the buzzer sounded a second time, she determined to give her visitors the fright of their lives.

Her anger disappeared in an instant, however. She was too shocked by the face that greeted her. A young woman, about the same age as herself, with cybernetic implants that had been carefully attached so as to look almost like cosmetics.

The face from her vision at the Sith Academy.

In the vision, the woman had worn a fine silk robe while kneeling at Reyenna's feet. Despite her posture, her expression had been defiant. "I will do whatever you demand, for the sake of my crew and my mission. But I refuse to be your victim, or your plaything."

In the present, the woman's outfit was purely functional, just jacket and trousers. Her expression was neutral, though she was clearly alert for any sign of trouble. She glanced warily at Khem Val, who stood impassively at the center of the room, as he had done since arriving on the ship.

"Is this food?" Khem rumbled.

"I don't think so," Reyenna smiled back at her visitor. "Are you food? Khem is quite hungry, so I hope you have a good reason for coming to me."

"I am Cipher Nine of Imperial Intelligence," the woman said. "You're Darth Zash's apprentice, right?"

"I am."

Reyenna continued to stare at Cipher. The agent reacted with a look of mixed confusion and apprehension.

"Is something the matter?" Cipher asked. "I don't believe we've met, but you're acting as if you recognize me."

Observant, Reyenna noted. She played it off with the flippancy that had served her so well at the Academy.

"I expect you just have one of those faces," she said. "Bland and ordinary."

"Yes," Cipher said, her voice still wary. "I expect that must be it."

Reyenna extended her hand, introduced herself. Cipher shook it. Her grip was firm. No hint of weakness.

"Darth Zash has asked not to be disturbed," Cipher said. "But we have an urgent situation, and her participation is needed."

Reyenna smiled humorlessly. "So you want me to knock on her door. To keep her from ripping your skin off out of pique?"

Cipher responded with a smile of her own. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble... Yes."

"No trouble at all. I was getting bored anyway."

"Hey, this is it!"

Arkarix Krell had been following Vette through the Tomb of Tulak Hord for roughly an hour, and he had stopped paying attention to her. His mind was consumed by his final conversation with Reyenna. He kept rerunning it, trying to decipher the meaning of her strange mood. Had the slave simply been a reminder of her own past? Would her mood be better when they saw each other again on Dromund Kaas? Or perhaps she had simply tired of him.

Vette's voice snapped him back to the reality of the Tomb. They were in an alcove, with two statues standing before what looked like solid wall. The statues looked the same as any number of others they had passed, and he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"The secret entrance to the cavern is right here," Vette said. Then she frowned at him. "Are you all right?"

He grimaced. Even the slave could see his mind wasn't fully on his Trial.

"Do I look unwell?" he snapped, moving a finger toward the control for her shock collar.

"OK, OK!" She raised her hands to forestall him. "Sorry I asked."

"Where is the entrance?" he demanded.

"Just let me get by bearings."

Vette started to look around the Tomb walls and statues, mentally recreating her first trip here. Krell leaned against the opposite wall, ostensibly supervising. But his thoughts turned back to Reyenna. He would be on Dromund Kaas soon. Should he look her up, or would it be better to keep his distance?

He felt the enemy's approach an instant before the blow fell. Had he been mindful of his Trial, he would have had enough warning to turn, to defend himself. But his distraction had cost him greatly. He was able to shift enough to avoid a fatal impact – but it was enough to send him to the Tomb's stone floor.

"You catch your bearings, slave." A mocking voice from above. Krell struggled to move, willed his hand toward his lightsaber. His limbs were uncooperative.

A young acolyte's scarred face came into view, leering down at him.

"I am Vemrin," he said scornfully. "It's only fitting you know the name of your executioner. I have fought for every scrap of recognition, while you've been gifted the top spot. That ends today."

Vemrin raised his blade. "I will claim all that is yours, Arkarix Krell. Your place at Baras's side. Your future in the Empire. Even your pretty blue slave."

Krell tried to direct a Force blast at Vemrin, but his mind was too scattered from the blow. The acolyte's blade began its descent, and he could not stop it.

Then Vemrin grunted with pain and surprise. He staggered.

Vette held a skull in her hands. The skull that had struck Krell's attacker on the back of his own head. Her strength hadn't been sufficient to fell him, but it had robbed him of his focus.

Vemrin glared at Vette. He held up one hand. Vette grabbed her throat, struggling for breath.

"I will not kill you, slave," he sneered. "I still need you, to open the cave you two were discussing. But I promise, you will pay dearly for your insolence."

The distraction was enough. Krell felt his mind snap back into focus. His muscles were again responding.

He raised a hand and tried again to direct a Force blast at Vemrin. This time, the effort succeeded. His rival was thrown against a wall.

Vemrin's blade dropped as he crumpled. He reached for the blade. Krell lifted it with his mind, brought it to his hand instead of its owner's. Vemrin shot lightning at him. Krell batted the bolts away with the acolyte's own weapon.

He stood over Vemrin, glaring down at him.

"You believe you could replace me?" Krell spat. "Look at me, Acolyte. Look at me!"

Vemrin moved backward. Krell allowed him to do this, advancing even as the young man attempted to flee. Vemrin tried to rise. Krell pushed him back down with a wall of air.

"I am the very essence of Sith," Krell declared. "You feel resentment toward me? Resentment is a coward's emotion. I feel rage!"

He used the Force to lift Vemrin from the ground like a rag doll. He slammed the acolyte against the Tomb's ceiling, then let him drop again to the ground.

Vemrin rasped his breaths around bruised and broken ribs.

"Think on this as you die, worm," Krell said. "Killing you was easy."

Krell struck downward with all his strength, skewering the acolyte who had thought himself suitable to be a rival. The killing blow only increased his fury. Vette turned her head away, closing her eyes tightly as he brought the blade down a second time, then a third, until Vemrin's skull had been completely pulverized.

Krell glared at her. Rage and bloodlust shot through his veins. It was a physical effort not to attack her, as well.

"We've waited enough," he rasped. "Open the cavern!"

Vette scampered to a wall directly behind a statue. She pressed at the wall, then twice at a place on the statue's back, then at the wall three more times.

A panel slid back, opening the secret entrance.

The bloodlust faded. Krell felt his mind grow calm, controlled. As they moved into the cave, he asked Vette one question.

"Why did you do it? I doubt it's out of any personal regard for me."

She hesitated, clearly not wanting to speak. For the first time since they met, he could feel fear from her. Fear of him.

"It was the best of bad choices," she said. "Remember what the jailer said? The collar explodes if you die."

"The control device reads life signs," he said dismissively. "As long as he put it on his own wrist, you'd have been fine."

She chewed on her lip, shifting her balance back and forth. "He... seemed worse than you. A lot worse."

Krell felt his lips draw back in an expression he knew would not comfort her. "Very wise," he said. "But suppose he had been a Jedi, who would have set you free?"

She fingered her collar nervously. "I'd have probably helped him," she admitted. She closed her eyes, clearly expecting punishment.

Krell laughed. "Also wise," he said. "But, Vette. If you ever do turn on me? Be certain that you succeed."