Chapter Six
Three months after the incident with the Myke, the fleet was now underway from Rishi to Teth, when one of the communications consoles pinged as they progressed through the Opoku system. The Twi'lek communications officer half-turned to look at the admiral where the Feeorin was seated at the centre of the helm, with N'Lola standing behind and slightly to one side of him; she offered a hint of a nod.
"Admiral, we've picked up a distress call, originating from deep space between the Opoku system and the Roti-Ow system," said the Twi'lek, "It is broadcasting with imperial distress codes."
"Helm, modify coordinates to drop out of hyperspace near the distress signal's point-of-origin," ordered the admiral, receiving an obedient 'aye, sir' in answer. As they dropped out of hyperspace, they discovered the distressed ship was a Personal Luxury Yacht 3000, a type of ship designed for civilian use by the SoroSoub Corporation, though it saw far more use as an imperial star-liner for vital personnel. This particular one had explosion burns where it would normally have had each of the three laser cannons, and intense damage to both nacelle-embedded engines had rendered it immobile. The ship's hangar bay doors opened and the helmsman piloted the Indomitable through the open void of space to carry the star-liner into the hangar securely.
"Go welcome our guests, N'Lola," instructed Admiral Golm, and she nodded, quickly turning and departing the bridge to head to the appropriate hangar. She could sense the presence of Force-sensitives in the hangar, and that told her that things were not as they might have seemed, entirely.
As she descended, she examined the Force-sensitives intensely, and she could tell by their lack of response that they were either extremely highly trained, or completely untrained, in the Force. When she stepped into the hangar on the fourth floor, she could see them clearly: a group of four Umbarans in grey-black robes, with singed holes in the cloth at several locations and visible blaster-burns from a low-yield hit they had taken. Each of them was roughly the same height as her, though for their gauntness they were lighter and undoubtedly physically weaker, standing in front of the fifty-metre-long imperial star-liner. She stared down at them a moment, then stepped up onto the railing before hopping off, using the Force to carry herself in a smoothly gradual descent as opposed to the slower use of the ladder, and allowing her to keep her eyes fixated on the Umbarans at all times. Untrained in the Force or not, she still knew enough about Umbarans in general to know that she did not trust them and would be a fool to trust them blindly, if at all. Nevertheless, she approached them at a smooth gait as soon as her shoes touched the hangar floor.
"Welcome to the Indomitable. You look to have been assaulted," she said, allowing them to play into what she had a strong suspicion was a ruse.
"Yes. We were transporting an imperial salary shipment, the annual payment for one of a main combat fleet," said the lead Umbaran, "As we were underway, we were set upon by enemies who presented themselves as if pirates, though I strongly believe they were members of the rebellion, stealing funds to pay for their operations. My name is Tir Kuul, Imperial salary courier, and these are my subordinates, Del Muur, Vath Lott, and Kaa Hinn."
"I am N'Lola Vurkoth, Attaché to Admiral Golm," she replied courteously, though retaining her suspicions, "You seem to be in fair enough health." She examined each individual critically, from their bald cranium and extreme pallor, across white eyebrows and white eyes, down to black leather boots that looked more flexible than a courier's should. In answer, Tir nodded.
"Yes, we were quite fortunate. The rebel scum did not realize how important each of us is to the Empire as a payroll courier, and were foolishly interested only in the salary shipment of THIS day," lamented Kaa, her face making a mournful expression. N'Lola's suspicions elevated, sensing no sorrow or sadness from the Umbaran woman, sensing indeed nothing but duplicity and a powerful intent to deceive.
"Where is the admiral? I should like to thank him for delaying in his mission to pick us up," said Tir.
I'm sure you would, N'Lola thought to herself.
"Admiral Golm is occupied with fleet command operations; I have been instructed to see that you all feel as welcome as possible. Please, this way," she said, motioning toward a ladder to the highest of the decks the hangar bay was directly connected to, out of four. She observed as they ascended the ladder, and then turned toward one of her Twi'lek loyalists, stepping in close enough to whisper near soundlessly, while pointing toward the ship suggestively.
"See to it the Umbarans are followed, and have the flight mechanics begin repairs on this star-line in case we should have use for it," she said, and the blue-skinned woman nodded faintly. Then, N'Lola turned and leapt into the air, using the Force to augment the motion, allowing her to sail up to where the Umbaran quartet waited, the soles of her shoes coming down quietly on the landing before she proceeded through the door.
She led them to four of the only vacant quarters on the ship, quarters neither especially close to each other nor within three decks of the admiral's ready room or personal chambers. N'Lola could sense the frustration and the discontentment that they radiated when she put them in separate rooms, rooms distant enough from each other that if they attempted to conspire with each other now, it would be noticed. She wondered if they realized that she had split them intentionally, and then decided to play a little game of counter-deception, as she turned her head to look over her shoulder with one eyebrow lifted.
"I am afraid I must apologize for the inability to place you nearer one another. You see, many of our chambers are already occupied, albeit a few have recently requested to be allowed to share quarters as roommates with another to heighten the efficiency of their teamwork," she said, colouring her Force Veil with truthfulness and maintaining an expression of unassuming authenticity. She sensed acceptance and trust in response to her words, but she contained it behind a mask of casual friendliness as she led them in the direction of the ship's cafeteria.
Damn, they're either far more trained than they let on, or they're the most gullible Umbarans in the history of their species, she thought to herself, within the shield of her Force Veil. She cautiously favoured the former of those two conclusions, as she had not survived more than five years masquerading as a Sith Apprentice by being gullible or incautious, herself. Once they reached the ship's cafeteria, she motioned toward the providence of abundant food, of the fresh-cooked variety.
"The admiral will make time to see you when time permits," she informed them.
"He will not be available in the near future?"
"There are other demands on the admiral's time, as you must well know. Surely, Captain Kuul, you are not proposing that the admiral should shirk his imperial duties to… what?" she asked with a brief pause, "Have tea with a payroll captain who couldn't even fight off a few pirates? I dread to think what possible recourse the high command will have when they discover that you lost a year's salary for an entire fleet." Tir's white-haired left eyebrow twitched and she could sense a spike in agitation from all three of them, though aside one twitching eyebrow, they concealed it well enough.
"Of course," Tir replied as he covered his agitation with obedience to the rules and regulations of the Empire, "The admiral must obviously handle the proper completion of his duties before he has time for the luxury of personal conversations with colleagues."
"Likewise, you no doubt understand that you will not be permitted to converse with his admiralship in total privacy," she warned, "We have, after all, only your word and a shred of proof that you are indeed payroll couriers – what if you are, secretly, assassins masquerading as payroll couriers on behalf of rebel scum?" Again, there was that slight twitch of an eyebrow on the part of Tir Kuul, and a spike of agitation from all four of their new Umbaran guests.
"Of course, I understand that you must take proper security precautions," answered Tir tactfully, careful of a young woman she suspected he had previously underestimated, as she simulated an extreme of overprotectiveness for her Master. She could sense their frustration, anxiousness, and irritation growing, with each new obstacle she placed between them and the admiral. Nevertheless, she was already formulating a plan, because she knew that the four were already making their own plans for how to circumvent the hurdles she presented to them.
"I must excuse myself, now, but please feel free to take advantage of our cafeteria," she offered, then turned promptly on her heel and departed the cafeteria, to proceed immediately to her next order of business. She needed the ship to look more secure than it was, or rather, to look weaker and less secure than it was, and that would necessitate an unfortunate body count. For this purpose, she proceeded to the ship's armoury and the chief security officer, though she would not inform him of what it was she required of him.
"Commander Trousdale," she said as she stepped in, looking at the man of some sixty-two years aged, as he stood to greet her on arrival, fixing eyes of grey-green on her under hair of greying black, and waited for her to continue. A man of six feet in height and an impeccably fit two hundred seven pounds, he could have been described as a handsome individual for his age. Indeed, he looked to be in extraordinary good health, all things being equal.
"Our new guests… stir suspicion in me. I wish them… observed," she said, "Clandestinely."
"Understood, Lady Vurkoth, I shall post security personnel in the corridors in the nearest junctions from their quarters, and at junctions along the paths between those quarters. They will be given the idea that we maintain security personnel at every junction, if they attempt to snoop about or slink through the ship. Fear not, my Lady, I shall place my best men in their path, and if they should try anything, we shall have but four Umbaran corpses to be rid of." She nodded once in answer, she couldn't be certain where his allegiances were invested, whether to Golm or to the Empire; all she could be sure of, was that he was not one of hers.
That matter settled, she proceeded to return to the bridge, where the admiral turned his head slightly to a side to look at her over his shoulder with an expectant lift of one eyebrow ridge.
"Our guests are Umbaran, admiral. They claim to be payroll couriers transporting the annual salary of one of the Empire's primary combat fleets, when they were assaulted by pirates. I have positioned each of the four Umbarans in separate quarters with quite some distance between them, on two separate decks, the highest of which is three decks below your ready room and your personal quarters. Also," she said in answer to his glance, "I instructed Commander Trousdale to post men in their path, should they attempt to approach your quarters in stealth during the evening hours. I cannot speak to the quality of Trousdale's men, though he offered me his assurances that he would position his best in the corridors to ensure the Umbarans cannot coordinate in private, nor easily approach your position. If they are in earnest, they will wait patiently for you to have time for them." Golm nodded, and offered a faint hint of a smirk as a response to what were quite evidently hurdles meant to safeguard him from potential threats.
"Excellent, N'Lola," he said coolly, "I knew I made a wise choice in coming to your rescue, and taking you as my apprentice." She nodded tranquilly in answer.
"Thank you, Master. I would like to be excused, so that I may gather my strength in the event that they should attempt anything untoward," she said in turn. When Golm nodded, she departed from the bridge and went immediately to her quarters, where she took a few hours of rest; when she woke, she collected her serenity and meditated upon the light side of the Force. She waited, using the Force to keep track of the positions of the four Umbarans, knowing that they would be disinclined to delay and thereby cause their master to wait longer than necessary for indications of their expected success. Once the Umbarans stirred, just after midnight, N'Lola rose from her meditation and proceeded out into the corridors herself, moving stealthily through the corridors, where her own loyalists lurked everywhere, hidden in plain sight. She tracked them by the trail of bodies, finding the corpses of three of the ship's security personnel at some junctions and four at others, up through the ship to the deck with the admiral's quarters. Finally, she discovered them lingering near a T-junction at one end of the corridor on which the admiral's personal chamber was located, with the bodies of four dead security personnel. She could sense that the guards in front of the door were still alive, as well as the ones situated at the other junction flanking the admiral's hallway.
"There are four guards outside the admiral's bedchamber, and four at the far end of the hall," said Tir, "We'll need to take them out quickly. Are you ready to make a quick aim with these rifles?"
"Yes," confirmed Kaa, with the agreeable nods of both others, and as N'Lola watched cautiously around one corner, they rolled out into the junction, lifting their rifles and firing promptly. Instantly, the security personnel outside the admiral's quarters fell dead, and a second volley sliced down the hallway and killed the last four personnel before they realized they were under attack. Immediately, the sound of their bodies hitting the floor garnered attention from soldiers on the junctions in direct line-of-sight thereof, though the Umbarans were already racing toward the admiral's door. Even as they moved, so did N'Lola, drawing and activating her lightsaber as she used the Force to silence it, as she slid up behind Del Muur, her lightsaber coming around with a hum that was too near to be masked, but it was too late already. Her lightsaber clove through the rearmost of their number, causing him to arch and gasp in pain as he fell dead with her red blade having cut through his spine four inches above the hip. Immediately, the other three whirled around, forced to change their focus from the admiral's guards to his attaché as she came unexpectedly on them from behind. Even as they turned, she leapt and closed the distance, slicing through flesh and cloth to kill Vath with similar smoothness, standing with her blade poised to surge forward with another strike as a second Umbaran was riven into two sections.
"Damn!" swore Tir as he and Kaa both fired at her simultaneously, though her lightsaber blade swept about to block it easily, deflecting the blasts of both back towards them. As each blaster bolt struck their shoulders, it flung them spinning to the ground and made them drop their rifles. Even as they did, she leapt forward, somersaulting before coming down on top of one, slamming her heel into his neck and snapping it as her landing brought her into a braced crouch, impaling her lightsaber into the female assassin with lethal aim. The door whirred, as a further six of the ship's security personnel arrived to secure the bodies, and she nodded to them as the admiral stepped out of his quarters, still in his uniform.
"It seems you were right about the Umbarans, my apprentice," Golm said with a smirk as the security started to carry the bodies, one at a time, from the hall, "Return the bodies to the star-liner and drop it from the hangar during flight." In answer, the security personnel nearby nodded as they carried away the final corpse, at the same moment as Commander Trousdale hurried up to them.
"I am sorry, Admiral, Lady Vurkoth. I put my best men on it, but it seems that you were still needed yourself."
"It is no trouble, Commander," the admiral replied calmly, "My apprentice sensed the assassins' true motivations, and your best were enough. They slowed the Umbarans long enough for my apprentice to catch up to them." At that, the commander nodded in acceptance of the approval offered.
"I will redouble my efforts in training my security personnel to be better," the commander promised.
"An excellent decision," the admiral nodded, "How many men have you lost tonight?"
"Two hundred and nineteen," the commander replied, and the admiral nodded.
"N'Lola. Take Lieutenant-Commanders Nuav and Xuax, and Ensigns Maire and Vindac, and take the Curich-class shuttles. I want you to select two hundred twenty-five fighters to serve as replacement security personnel under the commander."
"Yes, Master," she answered, turning and quickly departing from the ship with the Epicanthix twins and two of the Barabel she had brought aboard, herself, whom Golm had granted the ranks of Ensign. Once they departed from the ship, she guided the squadron of Curich-class shuttles directly to her homeworld of Bpfassh, where they proceeded to swiftly interview four hundred individuals before filling all two hundred and twenty-five positions the admiral had instructed her to fill, returning to the fleet within a week of departure. The admiral examined the newly arrived fighters, though he was quickly and easily satisfied with them, his trust in his apprentice heightened by her dispatch of a team of imperial assassins.
Less than one month following her return to the Fleet, in the early parts of the nine hundred and ninety-sixth year after the Ruusan Reformation, a different Empire launched their own attack on the fleet.
"Admiral, Hutt caravels exiting hyperspace!" reported the navigations officer, as the fleet sat in orbit over the imperial world of Ord Wylan in the Oktos sector. A largely uninhabited world with no sentient life and no resources known to exist on the planet which would make it especially desirable, in fact the entire sector lacked anything that'd make it unusually desirable to anyone. The planets were able to sustain life, but there were enough such planets already and no sentient lifeform had yet evolved on any of the planets in the Oktos sector. It was technically space owned by the Galactic Empire, but given the relative worthlessness of it, the Hutt Empire nearby found it unworthy the effort of fighting over it.
"How many are they?"
"Forty, admiral… and there's a Hutt warship with them! It's a Ubrikkian Frigate!" As the swarm of Seltiss-1 class caravels came whipping out of hyperspace ahead of the main warship, the Frigate itself came sweeping into a smooth halt. As the caravels raced toward the fleet, expertly weaving and dodging aside from the fleet's cannon-fire, the Ubrikkian Frigate targeted the Indomitable directly. The relatively small two-hundred-fifty-metre frigate began a barrage, sweeping broadside to allow half of the twenty quad laser cannons began firing at the ship, though the gunfire was barely able to scratch the surface of their shields. Even as the fleet's guns turned on the Ubrikkian Frigate and set to the task of firing, the caravels were reaching their destinations. For every Lancer-class Frigate, five caravels swept in and slammed down on the hull, breaching the ship's security and sending a few hundred soldiers onto each ship, in an attempt to take the Frigates by force.
A few minutes later, the Hutt Frigate exploded in space, and debris was pulled into the upper atmosphere of Ord Wylan, to be incinerated by the trauma of atmospheric entry.
"Report," prompted Golm.
"Enemy Frigate destroyed. Enemy caravels have landed on the Lancers; captains are reporting incursions of Klatooinian troops on each ship. According to our databanks, the Hutt caravel is able to transport sixty-five soldiers of the stature common to the Klatooinian species, and there are five caravels attached to the hull of each of the Lancers. There must be hundreds on each ship."
"Three hundred and twenty-five," N'Lola added, for the sake of specificity.
"We will not have our fleet stolen by the Hutts," said Golm with a scowl of irritation on his face, "Order the rest of the fleet to release a full bombardment on any Lancer that falls under Hutt control."
"Yes, admiral," replied one of the Twi'lek communications officers, immediately transmitting the orders, but N'Lola could sense she was also ensuring the orders were made known to their counterparts on the Lancers. However the captains of the Lancers felt about it, she knew her people on the Lancers would ensure that all commands on each ship were locked out from everywhere but the bridge, allowing them to focus on securing a single position. A tense span of six hours followed, during which there was undoubtedly intense fighting going on aboard each of the Lancers, but none managed to fall under the control of the Hutt attackers. Finally, confirmation codes were sent from each ship to affirm each Frigate had remained securely under imperial control and the attackers had been eliminated.
"Casualty reports," said the admiral with a soft sigh, and a hint of what N'Lola recognized as relief. He would not have wanted to destroy his own Frigates, as it would have left him more vulnerable to Palpatine attempting to get rid of him with any number of methods.
"Each ship has lost all twenty medical personnel. Additionally, the Assiduous reports three hundred eighty-five security personnel dead, the Cavalier reports four hundred two security personnel dead, and the Diligence reports four hundred forty-five security personnel dead. The Forerunner reports four hundred thirteen security personnel dead, the Munificent reports three hundred ninety-six security personnel dead, and the Sentinel reports four hundred twenty-one security personnel dead. There are also four hundred nineteen security personnel dead aboard the Torch, and three hundred eighty-eight security personnel dead aboard the Vigilant," answered a Twi'lek communications officer, then continued, "Each ship reports their chief medical and chief security officers are among the fatalities. However, security personnel were able to lock down most sections of the ship, minimizing the fatalities outside of medical personnel and themselves. It seems the most intense fighting on each ship occurred in the ship's sickbay, in the corridors with access to the sickbay, and directly outside the ship's bridge."
"The Hutts must have ordered the priority targeting of medical personnel and bridge crews," N'Lola said, to which Golm nodded. It was a logical deduction, given the information that was coming in: they wanted to lay claim to the ships. They also wanted to ensure that the maximum number of enemy wounded would die before being able to receive medical attention, but they had underestimated the number of security personnel on each ship. The admiral was understandably upset, but she could tell from his emotional emanations that anger was not the only emotion: there alongside it, was perplexity.
"Master, you seem… puzzled, by something."
"How did the Hutts know the fleet was here?"
"Hmm," replied N'Lola, "A most interesting inquest, certainly, Master. Someone must have manipulated the Hutts into attacking by providing them information about our proximity to the Oktos nebula."
"N'Lola, take the Dauntless and find replacements for the… how many dead was that?"
"Three thousand four hundred twenty-nine, admiral," replied the Twi'lek at the communications station.
"Find replacements for the exact number killed."
"Yes, Master."
"Remember, one hundred and sixty of those are medical personnel, ma'am," added the Twi'lek, to which she nodded, and immediately moved toward the door.
"The Fleet will not move until your return, apprentice. We will need to progress to an imperial shipyard for repairs and the removal of the Hutt caravels attached to the hull like parasites, and I wish to arrive with a full crew."
"Understood, Master," she replied, before leaving the bridge and then proceeding to take a Curich-class and take personal command of the Ton Falk-class carrier she was instructed to take. It took her ten weeks, nearly a month and a half, to find most of the replacements she needed, before then proceeding to hunt down what she needed for the last of it.
Nearly two weeks of searching later, N'Lola acquired the coordinates she needed and directed the helmsman and the navigational officers. Finally, they exited hyperspace in a position between star systems, located in deep space, one million kilometres from a space station that nobody expected to be there. Heavily modified according to scanners, it was nevertheless an XQ1 Platform, and had most of the same physical dimensions: a depth of two hundred and forty metres at the centre, one thousand metres long and nine hundred thirty-six metres wide. The docking bays were twice their normal thickness, however, which suggested the platform had two decks in each docking bay, allowing for double the number of starfighters as normal. It also included one hundred AG-2G quad laser cannons spread well enough that it could fire at enemy starfighters in nearly any position relative to the installation, and eighty equally well-distributed MG7 proton torpedo launchers.
"Open a channel," she instructed the woman at the communications console, a fellow Bpfassh, who nodded promptly in answer, "Hailing XQ1 Platform, designation unknown, please respond."
"This is the Hidden Hearth," came a reply across the communications channel, "What is your business here?"
"I have a contract proposition. Requesting permission to come aboard," she replied, following which there was a long moment of silence.
"Permission granted." She nodded, walking out of the bridge and down to the hangar where the Curich-class shuttle was waiting, and then flew to the space station that served as the headquarters of the Assassin's Guild. As she approached, docking bay doors opened, revealing there were indeed two decks, and as she carefully navigated inside to land her Curich-class shuttle, she noted that each docking bay looked as if it had twelve ARC-170 starfighters and twelve Cutlass-9 starfighters. Finally, the docking bay doors closed behind her, the docking bay pressurized, and then a group of people approached, allowing her to unlock and open the hatch. She disembarked from the shuttle, stepping down to make contact with the group of six black-clad individuals, each wearing a hooded shirt and a face-mask that prevented her from seeing almost anything other than their eyes and each individual's height.
"You have a contract proposal," said the tallest, who was a male of six feet four inches, and N'Lola nodded in confirmation of that, though it was more statement than question.
"I will need to see your leaders. The contract is… extremely particular, long-lasting, and will require a rather considerable number of individuals." There was a long pause, before a soft beep sounded from the lead individual's hood, and something was undoubtedly said into his ear, because he abruptly nodded.
"Very well," he replied at last, "This way." She followed without further comment, traveling down plain and undecorated corridors until she reached a pair of double-doors. N'Lola could sense a number of people beyond, what felt as if it was at least twelve, possibly as many as twenty individuals. She stepped through the door to discover there was a large, U-shaped table into the middle of which she was expected to stand, with black-robed figures on each side, hooded and masked, to protect their identities. N'Lola extended her sensitivity, and began to examine each one in her search for the perfect person for her to approach with the more specific details. She knew the Assassin's Guild was an organization that, like many other organizations, was becoming factionalized by the stirring of the Rebellion and a foreseeable confrontation with the Empire. There were sure to be some who were neutral, some who were interested in ensuring the survival of the Empire, and some who were interested in ensuring the fall of the Empire. She needed to be certain she approached a Rebel sympathizer in the guild's Elite Circle: the wrong choice could be catastrophic.
"I have a contract which will require seventy-two assassins for an extremely long-term assignment," N'Lola began, and she could sense the surprised response, "A recurring salary will be readily provided to each individual as a compensation for the continued performance of the desired task."
"What manner of target will these assassins be expected to eliminate?"
"You describe this as an extreme long-term assignment. Please clarify."
"Will each assassin be provided with access to weapons or expected to furnish their own?"
"What would be the volume and frequency of payments provided to each assassin in this recurring salary you mention?" As leaders at the table showered her with questions, she remained silent, listening and scanning as each of them spoke in turn even as most remained silent.
"I am sure you understand the need for a certain amount of… discretion," N'Lola replied, "All of these things are matters which I would prefer to discuss with a single member of your Circle, with the promise of confidentiality." She could sense a startled response from many of those who sat at the table, perhaps taken aback by the fact that their prospective employer had discretionary concerns of her own.
"The Lady plays things quite close to the vest, herself," observed one of the members of the Elite Circle in a tone of voice that suggested understanding. N'Lola nodded, then turned her head abruptly and lifted her hand, pointing at one of the members of the Elite Circle directly.
"You are the one I have come to speak with," she announced, which solicited a startled intake of breath from a fair number of those at the table.
"Then I am the one you shall speak with," replied the male, remaining hooded and masked as he stood from his seat, and circled out around the table, "Please, follow me to my personal conference room." His voice was ancient, or at least it sounded so to her, though she couldn't quite place the reason why it sounded ancient or why he felt as if he were ancient, but she suspected she would soon learn the answer. She followed him quietly, allowing him to lead a path that looped twice and ascended four times, until he thought her completely lost perhaps. Finally, he would pass through a door into a modest-sized room with a heavily reinforced window, which boasted a rather magnificent view of the star-strewn blackness. Then, still facing away from her, he pulled back his hood and removed the mask that had covered his face from cheekbone to below the jawline, leaving only his crimson irises visible to her when she selected him out of all of them. He was only five feet six inches in height with hair gone white, she presumed with age, though perhaps white was simply a natural colour for his species, and a pale grey complexion that was rather similar to hers.
"I feel that I must begin this conversation with a question, my child," he said as he turned to face her, revealing a countenance that was at once ancient and yet having a handsome smoothness that she found almost enchanting. He was a man with thick, bushy eyebrows and hair brushed neatly back but allowed to remain free flowing, and a nose that was wide but not unattractive. He had no moustache, but above emerging from above each corner of his upper lip was a whisker-like tendril of white hairs, each about a half-inch thick and about eight inches in length. The tuft of his beard looked like the flame of a torch, inverted, but it had a similar length and despite the bushiness, it was clear that it was well maintained.
"I am Akku Seii, and I would know why you selected me, out of all members of the Elite Circle," he said, as much a question as a statement.
"I am N'Lola Vurkoth. I sensed in you an uncommon lightness, and a receptiveness to the goals of enemies of the Empire, and it is for that reason I chose you as the one with whom I would wish to speak."
"You are interested in enemies of the Empire, yet you arrive in an imperial warship," observed Akku, "Most unusual, you are, young one."
"I am quite certain most would concur with such a description," she replied, "Also, you are Anzat, and thusly, a human you are not. The Empire seeks inevitably to exterminate all sentient life in the galaxy save for that of humans. The Anzati, too, are imperiled by this goal."
"Ah, how interesting, appealing to me on the basis of my species," Akku replied thoughtfully, "Yet, I confess, most Anzati deserve to be imperiled. We are anomalies of nature, rivaled in our species' treatment of others because of our dietary needs only by humans' treatment of others because of their superiority complex. If I could afford to set a bounty on the head of every Anzat who merited imperilment, I would be… a man of particularly exceptional wealth."
"I see," she replied, perhaps somewhat fascinated by his objectivity on the topic of members of his own kind.
"You may rest at ease, though, young one. I only feed on real members of the Empire, which I can tell you are clearly not," Akku offered as a manner of transition from one topic to another, "I suspect that you have yet several centuries of life in your future. You are a Bpfassh, correct?"
"Yes," she replied simply, her tone warm.
"So, these seventy-two assassins you wish for, what manner of target are you desiring them to eliminate?"
"Any individual on the ship I place them on whose loyalty is not to myself above the Empire and above the Sith admiral whose fleet I have infiltrated," she answered truthfully.
"I see," he answered, casually enough that she got the feeling he might not have cared, though she knew that it was something he had to know if he was going to find her viable prospects, "Please clarify your definition of extreme long-term."
"I would require their service for a period of several years, until the fall of the Galactic Empire, or until every person within the fleet is loyal to myself above all else," she replied.
"Ahh, the young one's motives I see now more clearly," replied Akku in a warm, thoughtful voice, "and as to the matter of weapons?"
"A combination of furnished and self-furnished," she answered, "Each ship has an armoury to which the role they would be assigned on the crew would grant them access to, but it would be desired that they bring their best, most favoured, or stealthiest weapons of their own, as well."
"A wise compromise," he observed, "Please define the recurring salary you referred to, in greater specificity."
"Once annually, a payment of forty-five thousand credits. Additionally, a two-year salary will be provided, half as a compensation for that their first payment would not come immediately and half as an additional incentive."
"A most tempting offer it is, indeed, but perhaps fair in lieu of the risk-reward consideration," he observed, his tone thoughtful and warm, "Do you have any additional specifications you would prefer to see accommodated?"
"Yes. I wish for twenty-four of them to be Miraluka, twenty-four of them to be Jilruans and twenty-four to be Zabraks," she said in answer.
"Very specific, indeed," said Akku, "However, I think your request can be accommodated. The station houses several hundred members at any given time, in search of contract. It may take me time to collect the numbers which you require, but it should not be more than a few days."
"Thank you, Master Akku," she replied warmly, to which he nodded before he excused himself to begin the search for assassins of suitable moral compass.
Less than two months after her departure, N'Lola returned to the fleet with the Dauntless, transporting a force of three thousand one hundred ninety-seven Chistori security personnel, one hundred and sixty Epicanthix physicians, and her chosen assassins.
Over the course of the next few months, her assassins purged her enemies from the Lancers, allowing her to bring in an additional one hundred and twenty Twi'lek communications personnel. Thereafter, the assassins gradually but cautiously purged the Lancers of security personnel not loyal to her above all, allowing her to replace those with a further three hundred thirty-one Chistori fighters. It was a slow but steady rate of attrition, and she knew that soon, it would be time for her to make a move she had been preparing for, for six years.