Ascension/Part 7

Darth Alecto watched them all go, waiting until Nillan and Megaera had gotten a good way up the bluff before sauntering into the trees, studying the shadow patterns their leaves made on the ground. Only when she was out of sight did she pitch forward, bracing herself against a trunk and gasping, the muscles she had sustained with the Force seizing and straining for air. Her arms trembled, and she allowed herself to slide to the ground, where she sat against the tree, panting.

Zurgharjhen was good—surprisingly so after two days of nearly continuous strain. Alecto was better, of course, but those same two days had been more tiring than she'd realized. She had trusted her ability to effortlessly defeat her new subordinates, and the dark side had given her a harder go of it…to castigate her? To sharpen her, as her adepts needed to be sharpened? She considered herself lucky it was not her limbs on the forest floor.

Did you think lordship was all gloating over your lessers? the dark side seemed to mock her. Nerlus Zedum had died for that arrogance, among many other faults, and as she sat against the tree, sweat pouring down her face and neck, the rough bark chafing the raw scrape on her arm, Alecto found it in herself to be grateful for the chance to correct course.

Early in her training on Korriban, long before she ever saw the field, one of her instructors had taught her that any fool, even a sufficiently piqued Jedi, could summon the power of the dark side through rage. But that fuel was not inexhaustible, and rage made for sloppy fighters and poor decisions. A Sith, Alecto’s instructor had said, channeled those emotions without letting them control her. Alecto had been taught to imagine her emotions floating just outside a ship’s viewport in space—clear and plain for inspection, but detached from the self as she stood inside on the bridge, separate from any sense of personal ownership of them. Viewed through that hard transparisteel of the mind, an emotion could not touch her, and so it could not control her.

Looking at herself through that cold, clear barrier, Alecto realized that her elation at being awarded Acolytes and adepts—her sense of vindication as her skills and accomplishments were recognized and rewarded at last—had never allowed for the possibility of failure. Now she had a chance to turn over her anger in her mental starship too; she had seen one master pay for the same mistake with his life and still almost fallen prey to it.

She remembered the day Zygro had died, watching the Trandoshan laugh over his fallen foe, oblivious to the doom Tirien had prepared for him. Zygro had been at least equal to Tirien as a swordsman (then, if perhaps not now) and far more experienced; moreover, he'd had Tirien disarmed. He had died because of his arrogance, plain and simple. Alecto had thought she learned the lesson then, but apparently she needed a refresher course.

Never again, Alecto vowed. She had been afforded one escape; she would not require another. And today's close call could be turned to her use as well; the dark side sharpened its instruments when they grew blunt, but it also rewarded improvisation and creativity. Zurgharjhen and the others had seen the power she could bring to bear and were duly cowed—for now, at least—and that awe would keep them in line until Alecto shaped them into a productive, focused team. Few of them would ever be lords, perhaps, but they could all contribute to the triumph of the Empire in their own ways.

Alecto still envisioned a new model of mastery over her disciples—earning their genuine loyalty by equipping them for success and rewarding their triumphs. But in the interim, fear would serve to keep them in line. It had served Darth Saleej, from whom Alecto had learned more about mastery than she ever had from Zygro or Zedum. No matter how much a master’s disciples respected her and were loyal to her, they should always fear her a little too.

No sooner had Alecto thought it than she sensed Nevya approaching, though the Anzat's whisper-quiet steps were inaudible, and she reached for the Force to get her feet under her. She had risen to a crouch, but Nevya called from out of sight, "It's only me, Master."

Alecto pressed her back to the tree trunk and got up anyway, seizing on the stabbing pains in her fatigued legs to focus the dark side and energize herself. "And?"

Nevya stepped through the ferns, looking at her for a moment and taking deep breaths; Alecto wondered whether Nevya could smell her fatigue or hear her racing heart. "He's a good swordsman."

"Better than I expected," Alecto admitted.

"And now he has cause to resent you."

Alecto saw the castigation in her second's black eyes. "Or to appreciate me. I humbled him, but left him his life and some measure of dignity."

"Which may be a festering wound rather than a source of loyalty," Nevya warned. "We should kill him—now, while he's weak. The brethren could do it in the night."

"No," Alecto said. "Even if he might betray me in the future, given the chance, he's in his place for now. Besides, now I have a spy among them to give me advance warning."

"The plant?"

"Surely you concede that she's loyal."

"Yes, you own her," Nevya allowed. "But this Basrasht is now your enemy too. She can not strike you, perhaps, but both we and your adepts must be on guard."

"So much the better," Alecto retorted, annoyed. "A little alertness isn't a fault in Sith and assassins."

Nevya bit back whatever she was going to say and bowed her head. "As you say, Master."

Alecto felt confident putting all her weight on her legs; her knees flexed for a moment, but when she got them straight she laid a hand on Nevya's shoulder. She was confident in her plan, but Relteus had been too, and Nevya—whose was genuinely loyal—served her well in keeping her honest. "Have faith, my friend. We have to take risks to achieve anything."

Nevya raised her eyes, and Alecto realized too late the snare she had set for herself.

"Then allow me to re-try the Abattoir, Master."

Alecto sighed. "And if you die? Qritzel won't serve; would you leave me with Katrijan?"

"We have to take risks to—"

"I remember, Nevya, it was ten seconds ago," Alecto snapped. To her credit, the Anzat did not smirk, but her expressionless patience was vexatious in its own way. "I said I'll consider it."

Nevya studied her in silence for a moment, then bowed, saying nothing. Alecto swept past her back toward the clearing, trying to put the idea out of mind until she'd had a chance to sleep. Nevya followed and asked, "Have you had any thoughts about your fortress, Master?"

It was a bold enough attempt at changing the subject, and Darth Alecto squinted against the sky as she contemplated the bluff. "Many, but nothing productive. I keep coming back to the Temple of Shadows and Nerlus Zedum's mansion, and neither is what I want."

Darth Saleej had offered her Zedum's mansion, but she wanted nothing to do with the dead fool. Nor could she house her disciples on Anzat; she would not torment her Anzati with Force users they could not consume or risk exposing the secrets of the Brotherhood to her adepts. Here she could create something of her own, something that embodied the Sith Lord she was and fully supported the type of Sith Lords she wished to produce from her tutelage.

She just needed to decide what those things were.

"Have you seen the domains of other Sith Lords?" Nevya asked. "Perhaps they could provide inspiration."

"Well, I got a good look at Kai Latra's place," Alecto said, and now Nevya did grin; its rarity made it all the eerier to see. "But we're a bit jealous of our strongholds."

No one on the council knew about Lisal but Darth Saleej—not even Darth Hokhtan, who had given her the general advice to take a Mid Rim world for her seat rather than follow the lead of most other Sith and ensconce herself in the safety of the Outer Rim. Lisal was a region of space closer to the battle lines—indeed, with Gizer at the border of the Mid Rim and the Expansion Region, the region had been contested since her own anointing. But Lisal was not far off the Perlemian, and taking it for herself showed confidence in the permanence of Darth Saleej's conquests. It was also less than two quadrants from Anzat, allowing her to return in haste at need.

"We could dig tunnels into the hill," Nevya started, but when she did not go on, Alecto followed her eyes to the top of the cliff and saw Zeff picking his way back down with more haste than two days of hard training and marching should have allowed.

She met him at the base of the cliff. "I told you to settle them all in."

"Darth Hokhtan has made contact, my lady," he replied.

"Darth Hokhtan?" Alecto repeated, eyes narrowed. How had he learned where she was? Had Rhutizh found out? But why would Rhutizh tell Darth Hokhtan?

"Yes, my lady. He commands you to return to the Unquenchable Fire immediately."

A hundred thoughts vied for Alecto's attention; their sheer volume made it easy for her to keep her face impassive. She sensed Nevya's mind at work too, but she trusted her Anzat right hand not to give away the game with a guilty look, and she did not betray herself by checking. "Understood. Zeff, you'll have command until I return.  Continue to train them and test their abilities, but I want no fatalities.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master. I won't fail you."

"Good, don't. Keep an eye on Zurgharjhen—not just to protect the others, but observe him carefully."

Zeff nodded. "Yes, Master."

"And Zeff, remember to clear your mind. It's not as private a place as it used to be."

His helmet hid the expression he was making, but she could guess. "Thank you for the reminder, my lady. Safe travels."

She nodded and waved him off. When he was gone, she turned to Nevya. "Observe but don't interfere unless Zeff asks for your help."

Nevya raised her heavy brows. "So…don't interfere, then."

It was Alecto's turn for a smirk, but it died quickly, and Nevya's tight eyes showed they shared concern. "He can't know."

"He shouldn't know," Alecto corrected, crossing her arms. "Not the same thing."

"Perhaps it's the business of the plant," Nevya suggested. "Megaera."

Alecto pondered a moment more, then straightened and held her head high. A Sith Lord was not a slave to fear. "There's only one way to find out."