Shots Fired/Part 3

They all watched as the black-robed man swept into the room, accompanied by a pair of bodyguards carrying double-bladed lightsaber hilts. His presence silenced the murmurs of conversation and argument that had dogged the table for the last two hours as the anxious Sith acolytes had awaited his presence. The Pau'an took the empty seat at the head of the table, laying his laced hands on the steel tabletop and turning his hooded face to one being after another. His yellow eyes, so bright they seemed almost to glow, lingered on a male Human.

"Garzen," the cold, sneering voice said. "I do not see your spies beside you."

The Human, Garzen, swallowed. "They haven't returned, Lord Zedum. I assume they're dead."

The Pau'an's leathery lips peeled back from his sharp teeth, and the Sith acolytes squirmed. "I am not pleased, Garzen," he hissed. "And the Council will not be pleased either."

"We'll double our efforts," Garzen promised, squeezing his gloved hand into a resolute fist.

"You will do nothing!" Nerlus Zedum spat. "You have proven the incompetence of your lackeys thoroughly enough, I think."

Garzen grimaced, but did not speak again as Zedum's eyes searched the table. "The Council demands the Perlemian. Who among you will tell them they can not have it?"

The silence was painful.

Nodding coldly, the Pau'an looked them over again. "I have answered for your lordships to my masters—raised you from the dust to power. When you fail me, you make me look weak.  I will not be made to look weak, and it would require little to return you to the dust.  Do you understand?"

They nodded back, and Garzen said, "Whatever you need us to do, Master, we'll—"

Lord Zedum gestured, and his two mute bodyguards moved to stand behind Garzen, whose eyes widened. His hand twitched, as if he was considering reaching for the lightsaber on his belt but had thought better of it.

"Was there anything else, Garzen?" Zedum asked. When the Human made no reply, Zedum turned his face away with a sneer and studied them all.

"More direct action is needed," he concluded. "The patience of the Five is growing short. I must trust one of you to see our will done."

Garzen wisely did not volunteer, but a Swokes Swokes toward the end of the table croaked, "I'll do it, my lord!"

Zedum spared him a glance, then snorted through his nose. "No, Churka, I think not. Some measure of discretion is needed for what I have in mind."

He looked to the Swokes Swokes's right, at the far end of the table. "Alecto."

The Mirialan sitting beside Churka leaned forward on her forearms to put herself entirely in the Pau'an's view. Her red hair was cinched in a bun at the back of her head, and her violet eyes gleamed. Three geometric arrowhead designs were tattooed around her left eye. "Yes, Master."

"Are you prepared to see my will is done?"

Alecto did not bother to look at Garzen or Churka's fuming faces, but she smiled faintly. "Of course, Master. Who needs to die?"