Danse Macabre/Part 9

Republic troops paraded through the square, an empty show of force beside the collection of them at the gate. "There will be no way through the main gate," the Vanguardian said. "It's the roof or nothing."

Nevya Khiyali looked up. "Then it's the roof."

"We expect snipers, but my contact believes he can execute an air drop."

Nevya snorted through her broad nose. "With no repulsors in Pols Anaxes and the Republic Starfleet patrolling?"

"Not repulsors," the man answered. "Some glider craft with jetpack parts; he assures me smugglers have used them successfully on dozens of worlds to evade scanners like this. Fly above movement detection, then parachute in."

They strolled on, Nevya's arm through the Human's as if they were lovers taking in the sight of Anaxes's vaunted fortress. The Vanguardian wore no hood or mask, but Nevya had killed one of them before, so she learned nothing from studying this same face. She, too, had discarded the red garb that marked her as Darth Alecto's second; her attire was snug enough that a Human would find it flattering without being so risqué as to create an impression. Fools, she had told the Vanguardian, concerned themselves with trying not to be seen; better intelligence was gained when the enemy saw and simply didn't care.

"It's an option," she conceded.

They drifted toward the crowd trying to catch sight of the Supreme Chancellor; she did not labor under the delusion that any of them could see Phnyong from here, but ignoring the mass of sentients on such an occasion would have been conspicuous. Several Humans waved Republic flags and cheered; Nevya gave a restrained little cheer to blend. She amused herself by imagining the Chancellor favoring the hoi polloi with an appearance after all and her Human companion throwing himself at the obvious target despite the suicidal odds, desperate to please his master.

"You and your…brethren will need to clear the snipers for our infiltration."

Nevya did not let herself wonder at the word he had replaced with brethren; she needed to keep her cool around this enemy-in-ally's-garb. "If snipers are too much for you, how do you plan to kill a Jedi Master?"

He allowed his lip to curl for a second before mastering himself. Leaning down as if to kiss her cheek, he whispered in her ear, "The Force is more than your hunting instincts, snot sucker. We can kill any enemy before us, but with Jedi here we have the element of surprise only once.  I don't intend to waste it."

Though reassured to discover he was not altogether ignorant of the concept of tactics, Nevya still gritted her teeth at the insult. She longed to put the Vanguardian in his place—to test her skills against his and, when she was victorious, feed on his soup and absorb some of that power of which he was so very proud. But while loathing and bloodlust tensed her muscles, loyalty stayed her hand. She would execute Darth Alecto's plan as she had been commanded.

They made a show together of trying to see through the crowd, then turning away in resignation. Once they had passed out of earshot, the Vanguardian commented, "A pity you don't have the Force in strength; you have the rage for it. But don't let it cloud your vision; remember your role in this."

"I killed Jedi long before you were…born, little boy." Nevya paused just long enough that the Vanguardian might be suspicious and disquieted without becoming truly alarmed; let Aresh think his secrets were secret. "My brethren and I will do as we've been commanded."

He did not ask again how many of them had come, though Nevya could tell it frustrated him not knowing. She would have valued numbering the Dark Vanguard, but he had been no more open than she. "What's your exfiltration strategy?"

Nevya shrugged noncommittally. "With the snipers dead and the chaos below, we'll have our pick. Yours?"

"If we can strike subtly, we simply walk out. If not, we fight our way out."

The temptation was strong to let them try it, but a look at the holoscreens projecting real-time news forced Nevya to rethink her plans. She recognized the insectoid Chancellor in the center of a group that also included blue-skinned Tirien Kal-Di and a dark Human Nevya was almost certain was one of the Kaivalt twins; she would gladly have let the Vanguardians blunder into fatal duels, but she did not want their arrogance to endanger anyone whose life she actually valued. "Just you, against every Jedi in Anaxes Citadel? They'll descend on you like piranha beetles if you murder the Chancellor openly; try for some subtlety."

He simply exhaled in vexation rather than protest the fearsome skill of the unconquerable Dark Vanguard; Nevya wondered if he was an upgraded model, or if the lightsaber scar on his cheek, now covered by the flaps of his civilian hat, had taught him some humility. "Don't worry about us; just do your job."

I only worry about your stupidity. "As you say."

They walked on a few blocks farther in case they were being tailed, then embraced for effect. So close, Nevya had to consciously keep her proboscises from extending and creeping toward his nostrils. He would have been a worthy meal, but Darth Alecto had commanded this cooperation. Besides, if circumstances went awry—and with these blundering living weapons and their endless arrogance, they probably would—perhaps Nevya would get a chance to feed on Kal-Di or his Padawan. Just as tasteful, and Darth Alecto would thank her for the favor to boot.

The imagined feeding brought a predatory smile to Nevya's lips, and she kissed the Vanguardian's cheek. "Happy hunting, lover."

"And you, vampire."

Nevya turned her back on him fearlessly, charting a meandering path through Pols Anaxes, people-watching and picking out easy victims—harried husbands and wives shopping alone; citizens taking back routes for convenience without a thought to safety, as if the sun was some celestial shield against harm; little children playing outside their homes who had strayed beyond the bounds their mothers and fathers set with the heedless uncaution of youth that might never reach adulthood. She didn't stop to feed, though; the Brotherhood had speculated with some optimism that Darth Alecto was neither as capricious as Vandak the Fallen or as scheming as Azeroth the Shamed, but Nevya did not wish to be the first to test her new master's limits. Old Qritzel had plumbed deeper depths of the Abattoir than had Nevya; by rights he should have been the second, but he seemed content with his role as the living memory of the Brotherhood and unoffended by Darth Alecto's desire for a more active right hand. Darth Alecto had beheld the Heart of the Abattoir and she was not to be defied, but Nevya knew not all her brethren supported her as second, just as some retained private misgivings about their Mirialan master. She had faith Darth Alecto would do great things with—and, unlike Vandak and Azeroth, for—the Brotherhood, and she would not be the weak link in her master's chain.

The shadows had started to creep across the streets when Nevya finally twisted her path back to what had become home. The signs advertising weekly rental rates hadn't flickered to life, and so none of the dregs barred her path as she entered the lobby. The Human proprietor gave her a glaringly obvious nod he seemed to think was stealthy; Nevya wondered whether she would have time to kill him before leaving Anaxes.

The maintenance door was unlocked, but Nevya knocked on it anyway—twice, then once, then thrice. Inside, she was pleased to see Keshthel poised beside the door with one of his killing knives; he nodded respectfully and closed the door behind her.

"Our allies have determined that we'll have to come in by the roof," she told them dryly. Aresh's people had furnished them this contact—the proprietor was so provincial, he thought he was housing a group of Humans—and so Nevya spoke Anzat rather than Basic.

"Revolutionary—visionary, even," Ikkyn sneered. "Only the best for Valin Aresh."

Nevya allowed them a moment of levity, then looked at Zarrke. "Did he tail us at the Citadel?"

Zarrke frowned. "Not that I saw…not another one of the Vanguard, certainly. But it's hard here; any Human could be a spy."

Nevya narrowed her eyes until Zarrke flinched. "There can be no mistakes here. Darth Alecto's fate hangs on our success, which means our fates are in play."

"Yes, Nevya."

Was his hardened tone contrition or sullenness? Nevya opted not to devote too much energy to puzzling it out.

"The climb?" Ikkyn asked.

"They do have an idea for the roof that might be worthwhile," Nevya conceded. "Silent infiltration to remove the snipers."

"And our infiltration into the Citadel proper from there?"

"They had nothing to contribute…though that may just be because they don't know about that. They have such weighty concerns on their minds—assassinating a Chancellor, dying in a wasteful blaze of glory fighting an army of avenging Jedi—it seemed peevish to burden them with anything else."

Nevya smiled, and this time they all smiled back.