Revenge of the Jedi/Part 39

Celop raced through the Kiss of Death, and those fools who did not press themselves to the bulkheads found themselves flattened there by the Force. He had sought Vedya in her throne room only to find she was not there; even then he might have walked to her quarters rather than run, but security down at Allanteen Shipyards had called back, and their news had been even grimmer than the report fifteen minutes before. Now haste bore him through the corridors in a way to which few Lords of the Sith would ever condescend. But where pride might be wounded, Celop risked a deadlier hurt to his dreams.

To his beloved…to any chance of possessing her. How could it have gone so wrong?

Four White Guards were arrayed outside Vedya's door. They watched Celop run up without moving, holding their deactivated staves before their bodies along the same angles as their scarlet cloaks. Slowing to a jog, he called, "I need to see her, at once."

"On what matter, Lord Faro?" one of the guards asked in a digitized bass.

Fear and fury sharpened Celop's tongue. "I have no time to explain it to you, now stand aside. I will not command you again."

The White Guards threw back their cloaks and activated the short blades at the ends of their lightsaber pikes. Outraged, Celop pulled the dark side of the Force to himself; as one hand found his lightsaber hilt, the Force traced the contours of a guard's armor. He could squeeze the man until his rib cage caved in and his blood burst from the seams of his armor, from vessels under too much pressure to hold it in any longer…

The door opened, and Vedya Gasald appeared behind her guards, dressed all in white. In a soft, lethal voice, she asked, "What is this?"

One of the White Guards began, "Lord Faro—"

"The Jedi," Celop interrupted.

Vedya met his eyes, and Celop tried to convey through them the gravity of the matter, his concern for her safety. After a moment, she waved a hand from her guards' shadow; she said nothing, but they deactivated their pikes and stood aside. "Come, my lord. I sense you have much to tell me."

Celop did not spare the guards so much as a superior sneer; Vedya was in danger, and there was no time for such petty demolition of meaningless rivals. Even as Vedya turned, Celop appreciated his fortune; he had dreamed of entering her chambers since first he had laid eyes on her. He imagined how it might be if no danger threatened, if she had invited him in with that silken tone that drove him wild—one that promised that no fantasy was too obscene, no pleasure out of reach. He could press her small body into that pile of satin cushions…lay her out on the chaise longue and kiss his way from her toes to her lips…tie her wrists with the silken cords that lay—

"Lord Faro." Vedya's voice cut like a vibroblade through his imaginings. "Why are you here?"

He recovered himself. "The Jedi may be on their way."

"Your message said they were on their way."

"Not to Allanteen, Master, to the Kiss of Death. They're here at Allanteen, now."

Her expression did not change, but Celop felt a cold wind descend up his spirit; unprepared for it, clad only in the loose garb of arousal and explanation, he shivered. "Explain, my lord. Now."

"Security at the shipyards called up; it took some time for their people to be passed through to me. They've found two of the kill team dead.  I'm unable to contact any of the others."

"How were they killed?"

"One decapitated, the other cut to pieces. I've dispatched an Acolyte from the Razor's Edge to confirm, but they bear all the hallmarks of lightsaber wounds."

Vedya frowned. "'Cut to pieces', you said. That doesn't sound like Jedi work."

"Their desire to harm you is very great, Master." Just thinking of the assassination plan made Celop's blood boil, but if Vedya noticed his rage, she gave no sign of it. She called on the Force, but not to relieve pent-up wrath; Celop sensed her projecting her mind partway out of the here and now.

"That can't explain it all…there's something else here, something unanticipated…"

"I have security teams on the shipyards making inquiries and conducting surveillance, but if we turn out the garrison in Aurek and Besh Quadrants, we risk leaving them too little protected to stop the Jedi if they attack in force."

Vedya closed her eyes, and again she left the moment. She raised one pale hand before her body, holding it out as if to levitate something visible to her eyes only. Celop longed to take that hand, press his lips to her palms and soothe her worries, but he dared not even move; the strength of her power in the Force rooted him in place. He was a lizard in the shadow of a rancor, dwarfed by her greatness, and a profound melancholy seized him. Why would such a being ever take him in her arms and whisper of pleasures to him? What had a goddess to do with mortals such as he?

A mingled moan and groan of desire and despair fought through Celop's clenched teeth and past his lips, but Vedya did not react. Her smoky eyelids trembled as her eyes danced beneath them, beholding visions Celop could not imagine—and was not sure he wanted to.

She gasped as her back arched, but even as Celop lurched forward to assist her, her wide, dark eyes paralyzed him. A second later they narrowed, and only then did she really seem to see him. "They won't find the Jedi. It's too late, they're here."

"Here…on the Kiss of Death? Now?"

"Now, or soon enough that we can't prevent them. No, leave it!" she snapped as he reached for his comlink. "We have very little time, and we need to use it well."

"When I heard about the kill team's death, I deployed my Acolytes and adepts toward the ship's reactor," Celop said, determined to please her one way or another. "You recall—"

"Yes. Leave them at it; victory over the Jedi will be for nothing if they blow up the ship from under us.  Captain."

Celop had no idea to whom she was talking, but barely had he turned in confusion when the door opened and one of the White Guards stepped into the room. He regarded Celop with one hand on his pike's activation stud as he asked, "Yes, Master?"

Did their armor contain aural uplinks to her bedchamber—did the pillows and gurgling aqueduct of red liquid conceal microphones? Or had she spoken aloud only to echo the voice of her mind?

"Summon all the White Guards to join us at the throne room immediately. And call for Darth Kra'all and his Acolytes as well."

"Yes, Master."

"Does Kra'all have his Acolytes aboard?" Celop asked as the White Guard captain sealed the door behind him. "I was given to under—"

"Many may be in the field, but not all." A flash of gold gleamed through the air, and Vedya's lightsaber hilt spun into her waiting hand. "Summon your second—Mazkazato."

Celop had his comlink in hand before he thought to ask, "The throne room, my lady? A more open floor if it comes to battle…"

"For us as well."

Celop had not fought Jedi directly since he was anointed, but he thought the principles could not have evolved much in those years. Regardless, there could be no question of Vedya facing these Jedi murderers without him. He relayed her command to Jaigan, but his eyes followed his beloved as she donned a short, hooded robe, started toward the door, then stopped. It took Celop a moment to make sense of the expression on her face, because he had never seen it there before; he realized it was indecision.

"My lady?"

"No mistakes," she muttered, and the tightness around her eyes smoothed. She crossed her palatial suite and opened one of the wardrobes along a wall. Trailing after her, Celop saw the shine of precious metals and the sparkle of gemstones of every variety, but Vedya took out a small box of some black metal and passed a hand over it. The Force unsealed it, and from within she drew a simple gold necklace holding a pendant—a ruby wrapped in gold. She ran one hand through her hair, but then stopped and smiled for him.

"Assist me, won't you, love?" she asked.

Celop took the necklace from her hand at once as she pulled up her hair to bare her pale, slender neck. He resisted the temptation to kiss her—time was of the essence—but as he unhooked the necklace's clasp, pins and needles chased themselves from his fingertips to his spine. Holding it in his hand, he saw the pendant was not a band, but an exquisitely detailed, ouroboran dragon clutching the ruby in its claws. As he weighed the pendant in his hand, he felt stronger—more sure of himself and his power, the inevitability of his success. He had no doubt that Vedya would be his; as he served her in every way he could, she would serve him in every way he could imagine. And as he grew stronger—

"Celop."

Blinking, Celop draped the necklace around her shoulders and fastened the clasp. Just for a second, as the golden chain slipped out of his fingers, he heard a whisper in a voice as seductive as Vedya's, and yet harsher and colder—a blade scraped over stone to whet its edge. Then he let go, Vedya dropped her silky mane of hair down her back, and Celop laid his hand on her shoulder instead.

"I won't allow anyone to harm you, my love," he breathed in her ear. "Neither Jedi nor anyone else."

Vedya pressed her back to his chest, took his hand, and ran it down the front of her tunic, holding it over her heart; Celop's fingers spread out as he wrapped his other hand around her waist, and she tucked her head under his chin. "I trust in you, my lord…don't let me down…"

"Never…"

Celop brought his free hand up her stomach, but she slipped from his arms and crossed the room before he could do any more than gasp. The door opened, and the unseen eyes of the White Guards curdled Celop's arousal.

"Come, Lord Faro," Vedya said, and even though her voice was cool and imperious once more, Celop could not help but obey. "Our Jedi await."