Abattoir/Part 2

Four weeks earlier

Darth Hokhtan resisted the urge to shift his weight in his hoverchair; the discomfort was but an annoyance, and he could not afford to look even weaker before Darth Saleej's lesser Sith Lords. It would do better to walk, of course, but he was still adapting to the bulky durasteel prosthetic kneecap he had been given. Hokhtan counted himself fortunate he served an Overlord like Saleej; Hokhtan did not care to dwell on how Vedya Gasald would react to having a subordinate who was less than physically ideal, and even she had more mercy than the psychopath Ko Davad. Saleej had read the reports on the injury and purchased the hoverchair the next day, remarking that a man of Hokhtan's tactical genius served best by directing battle, not leading the charge.

The subtle rebuke of Gasald did little to ease Hokhtan's lingering anger. Between Vaszas's death and the liberation of some of the hostages, Karzded had plenty of excuses to delay medical extraction for what he insisted on calling "non-critical casualties". By the time Hokhtan had finally been evacuated to the Kiss of Death, there had been nothing bacta could do. He had sat impotently on his repulsorpod, praising Vaszas's valor and wishing he could tear those faintly smiling lips off Karzded's mouth. When Gasald had made a show of leaning down to kiss his cheek in farewell, only the fact that they were surrounded by her lackeys had prevented Hokhtan from wrapping his powerful hands around her slender throat and squeezing until the white of her flesh turned gray.

And for all the humiliation and incapacity, his knee was not the worst calamity of Milagro.

As he guided his hoverchair into position, he took the opportunity to look at Vandak's chair. Still empty, despite the longing gazes every other Lord on the Council had given it. Hokhtan looked across the table at Rhutizh. The Devaronian was gazing at the wall, lost in his endless contemplations and schemes as usual, but at length he sensed Hokhtan's gaze, returned it, and shook his head.

A droid floated over, offering a tray of drinks. Hokhtan took the mulled wine prepared for him, performed a Force exercise to purify it of toxins just in case, and sipped the spiced drink until the door opened. Two of Darth Saleej's masked guards preceded him into the room. The other Lords stood, but Hokhtan remained sitting; it highlighted his infirmity, but also his favored position when Saleej did not remark upon it. The Kaleesh sat at the head of the table, gesturing them to their seats with one clawed hand and waving off the droid before it could offer him a drink.

He turned his death's head mask on Rhutizh first. "What news for the operation?"

"There are several possibilities," Rhutizh answered. "A formal ball on Anaxes, a state visit to Alderaan, the opening session of the Senate in the new year. There's discussion of a diplomatic visit to the Diktat of Corellia as well."

"That could heighten tensions with the Corellians," Alecto called from the other side of Vandak's empty chair.

"It could," Rhutizh agreed without looking at her, "which is why it won't happen. This agitation among Corellian Jedi has bred insularity in the mainstream.  The refusal has not come yet, but I'm confident it will."

Saleej considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Continue to evaluate the options." His eyes glowed through his mask as he turned to Hokhtan. "Vandak?"

Hokhtan shook his head, and Saleej began to drum his claws on the table. Click-clack, click-clack. "This is moving beyond insubordination."

Hokhtan did not want to admit it, but those searching yellow eyes would accept nothing less than the truth. "I suspect so, Master."

The click-clacks became sharper; closest to Darth Saleej, Hokhtan could see the man's claws gouging tiny chips out of the tabletop. At Rhutizh's other side, Lord Sar-hent sat forward and said, "It may be to our advantage to eliminate him before this escalates."

Hokhtan had considered it; they all had. The way Darth Saleej's claws dug into the table, Hokhtan knew his master had come to the realization as well, but tension filled the room nonetheless. The silence dragged horribly on until Targere found the courage to speak.

"Vandak is no common renegade," he observed, stroking his cranial horn. It was a Koorivar gesture of abstract contemplation, and Hokhtan had seen other Koorivar do it as well, but Alecto seemed to find it obscene, and so Targere had been doing it more and more of late. "He's pure lethality. Apart from you, Master, none of us is equal to that challenge."

"I'll go after him, my lord," Darth Shakelli volunteered at once, and Hokhtan repressed a sigh. The young Onderonian had come to the council from Hokhtan's own ranks, and in many ways Hokhtan was pleased; Shakelli was deferential without being obsequious, and in battle he was a juggernaut, savage and brutal in a way that heartened his minions and terrified his enemies. But he was also brash and quick to anger, and for all his skill no match for Vandak.

"I think not," Darth Saleej said in a tone that prevented even Shakelli from pressing the point. The cold yellow eyes roved over the others.

A lifetime watching Sith Lords play their games, and a good many years as a player instead of a piece, showed Hokhtan the danger. He was not stupid enough to volunteer himself—even before his injury he would have been hard-pressed to bring down the Anzat—but he squeezed his right hand into a fist in warning. He saw Alecto move in his peripheral vision, catch the gesture, and sit back stiffly, gripping the arms of her chair in frustration.

Rhutizh's quick eyes saw the movement too; Hokhtan could not tell his motivation as he said, "If we don't act and Vandak's depravities continue, Lord Ko may become involved."

Some of the others shifted uneasily, and Saleej's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Do you know, Lord Rhutizh, or do you merely guess?"

"Even my eyes don't see into that dark, Master," Rhutizh admitted. "But Lord Effegrel did less and died faster."

Hokhtan was old enough to remember that particular treason, in the days before he had sat on this council, when Saleej was a member of it rather than its ruler. Effegrel had carved out his own little fiefdom, ignoring the commands of his Overlord and the Council of Five, persisting in his defiance until the day his skin was found nailed to his throne; what became of the rest of him no Sith had dared to ask. And Vandak had not contented himself with a little planet to call his own.

"I do not want Ko Davad to become involved," Saleej said. He drew his claws off the table, exaggerating the movement so all eyes returned to him. He laced his fingers together, perhaps to avoid the temptation to damage the tabletop further. "Lord Latra."

Down at the other end of the table, the little Gossam perked up in his booster chair. "Mmmmm?"

"Are any of your creations up to the task?"

"Mmmm, Vandak? Hmm, yes, yes…no." Kai Latra's head bobbled on his stalk of a neck. "No, no. Too swift and strong, Vandak is much too swift and strong.  My poor little eaters would be chopped all to bits."

He hung his head disconsolately until Alecto asked, "What about poison?"

"Anzati don't have blood, or even circulation as we do," Lady Ta'azin pointed out.

"Sith poison has properties all its own," Alecto retorted. Hokhtan had wondered whether raising a second woman to Darth Saleej's council would breed alliance or hostility between them; day by day the answer was becoming clearer. "Isn't that so, Lord Latra?"

"Hmmmmmmm…" Kai Latra said; he looked intrigued by the idea. "No, no. No blood.  Not one little drippy drop.  But maybe yes.  Yes, with the dark side, many fun things can be done.  Still, no.  No, no, no."

He looked up at Darth Saleej, beamed from ear to ear, and nodded. "Yes."

"Yes, poison," Targere agreed, nodding to Alecto. "It avoids the difficulties of close combat and makes almost anyone eligible for the strike."

He gave it a beat, then asked Alecto, "And who will poison the Anzat?"

Again Hokhtan squeezed his hand into a fist, and again Alecto held her tongue, though Hokhtan could actually sense her frustration now; she took a drink of her own liqueur to hide her narrowed eyes. Darth Saleej's mental guard was hard as stone, but the hint of a rasping snarl from behind his mask suggested his patience was not unlimited either.

"There's another danger in killing Vandak," Sar-hent observed. Looking at Rhutizh, he asked, "Can the operation be performed without the Brotherhood?"

"We planned for their involvement. Without them…our regular assassins would be inadequate.  We'd need to use Sith."

"Sith likely to be sensed, and caught, and killed," Hokhtan pointed out.

"There's no substitute for the Anzati," Lord Asegred agreed.

"Then we need Vandak," Targere said.

"Even if we get him, that doesn't mean we get the Brotherhood," Alecto said. "If they're anything like Azeroth…"

Hokhtan had not seen for himself what Alecto had; the smoke and towering flames in the legislative assembly room had blocked off the view of the balcony. But he took her at her word, and if Vandak's second-in-command had abandoned him, the others might indeed follow suit.

"Perhaps they need a reminder that the Sith aren't lightly defied," Darth Shakelli suggested.

Hokhtan kept himself from rolling his eyes. "A message that will look like no more than petty reprisal when Vandak himself still lives." He remembered the tense exchange in the Milagro library. "And killing even one of them may make enemies of them all. We need their service, not their fear."

"And the Brotherhood follows only Vandak," Rhutizh said.

"Does it?"

All the beings at the table turned to Alecto, drawn by the scheme in her tone. She set down her drink with finality and looked at Saleej. "Master, did Vandak create the Brotherhood himself?"

Saleej took his time responding. "Vandak's lordship over the Anzati predates me," he said, "but I believe the Brotherhood predates him. Why?"

"Then he's not its lord, just its current master—and maybe not even that anymore. Perhaps it's the right time for new leadership, and new direction." She set her hands on the table and leaned toward Saleej. "Let me go to Anzat and…persuade them."

Hokhtan clenched his teeth; he would rather she had volunteered to hunt down Vandak. For a moment all the assembled Lords hesitated, waiting on some more senior Lord's reply before chancing their own. But then Targere laughed. As they all looked at the Koorivar, Hokhtan thought for a split second Targere was about to pick his nose until he merely circled his nostrils with one finger. "I don't think the orifice you're planning to offer them is the one that interests them."

Laughter rang down the table, and even Rhutizh smirked and chuckled once, though Hokhtan did not, and neither did Saleej. Alecto's cheeks darkened to forest green; their colleagues might have laughed all the harder, mistaking it for embarrassment, but though Hokhtan was not so foolish, he knew her rage would be even more dangerous to her.

Before he could speak or gesture her to silence, she catapulted to her feet. A few of their colleagues tensed, but Alecto clipped the floating server droid with her shoulder and hissed in pain as it wobbled unsteadily, alcohol sloshing over its tray. Targere snickered, and Alecto raised one open hand; the droid flew backward and smashed into a wall, dropping to the ground as a sparking ruin.

"Alecto," Hokhtan hissed in warning, but she ignored him.

"I can bring the Brotherhood to heel, Master," she promised Saleej, looking only at him, her long red hair spilling over her shoulders like twin lavafalls.

The lingering laughter died as Saleej spoke. "Vandak did not buy the Brotherhood's loyalty, nor did he intimidate it out of them. He proved himself worthy of it, through whatever rites those creatures hold sacred.  You are not one of their order, nor even an Anzat."

"Without Vandak, Master, there are no Anzat Sith," Alecto replied. "If I succeed we retain the Brotherhood even without Vandak. If I don't go, we have to conduct the operation without the Brotherhood…and hope no one else recruits an Anzat with enough of the Force to be one of us."

And if you go and fail, you die hideously in the jungles of Anzat with only your ruined corpse as evidence that you existed at all, Hokhtan thought, but the damage was done. He might be able to berate her down, but only at the cost of all her credibility before the other Lords. And she had planted that poisonous seed, too; Darth Saleej could never countenance the Brotherhood serving one of his peers. He had lost so much already, and so much hung on the success of this new plan. Alecto had hung her fate on the Brotherhood of Shadows, but a shadow could not support that weight, and Hokhtan now had to plan for a future on this Council without two of his natural supporters. Perhaps Shakelli, seasoned by experience and some measure of restraint…

Click-clack. Click-clack.

Darth Saleej finally looked at Rhutizh. The Devaronian looked at Alecto, down at the table in thought, then shrugged. When the death's head turned to Hokhtan, the Human had no choice but to nod, and Saleej looked at Alecto.

"Go, then."