Loyalty/Part 20

Darth Alecto, robed and hooded in black and silver, stood with her hands raised over the Brotherhood's altar in the open courtyard of the Temple of Shadows, chanting the ancient words no alien had ever spoken. Her accent was noticeable but not painful to hear, and though she spoke slowly, it added to the gravitas of the moment, and every word was correct. Since her arrival on Anzat, she had spent nearly all her time locked up with old Qritzel, the Brotherhood's ancient texts, or both, knowing what was coming and evidently determined not to disappoint her first choice.

She had spoken to Katrijan Naveskatsi only once, but that was all right; she had voiced the words he had dreamt of hearing since Azeroth's downfall, so he did not begrudge Nevya a sendoff. He had never cared for Nevya, it was true—nor, in fairness, she for him—but a sister of the sixth rank deserved her due.

It was a far better end than Darth Alecto had allowed Azeroth, but Katrijan was determined to put that behind him. The future began today.

Darth Alecto finished the recitation and pointed her hands skyward, and the mist that swirled perpetually through the temple wove together, winding into a lazy reverse tornado, a funnel streaming skyward until the wisps were lost amidst the gleam of the Silent Voices on high. Even though he understood the trick of the Force involved, for a moment Katrijan could not help but be awed by the display, as if Darth Alecto could dispatch Nevya's soul to join with those of the ancient Anzat ancestors by pure force of will.

Then Darth Alecto lowered her hands, the funnel dissipated into loose fog, and the moment was gone.

Katrijan walked beside her in the procession back to the Temple's main pyramid, distinct in the light at last; where his brethren wore dark garb, he alone wore suit and cloak in the second's red. Whether Darth Alecto had offered the role to Qritzel a second time, Katrijan did not know, but if she had, Qritzel had again defied her. After Nevya's ascension to the sixth rank, Katrijan had been alone in the fourth; he had half-expected Darth Alecto to throw out all convention and sink to the third rank for her new second—her loyal hunting dog Ikkyn, perhaps—but evidently her desire to warp the Brotherhood's traditions went only so far. Either that, or she planned to slay those ancient customs with a thousand subtle cuts rather than a single blow that would provoke rebellion.

Regardless, she had made the offer, and—with utmost graciousness, and after receiving Qritzel's blessing—Katrijan had accepted.

The silent Anzati flowed into the Hall of the Brethren, though only a few were on hand to behold Katrijan's ascension for themselves; not every seat at the Table of Brotherhood was taken, and only a handful of brethren went to seats along the wall. Though he would have preferred a wider audience, Katrijan knew the temple could not support the entire Brotherhood for long, so he had raised no protest. Darth Alecto set her lightsaber on the stone tabletop, took her throne, and commanded in Anzat, "Be seated."

Katrijan laid down his curved swords, then stood at her side for just a second or two, savoring the moment of deference; none of the brethren would sit before he did. But he would not allow Darth Alecto to shame him by commanding him to stop wasting time, so he took his seat at her right hand, and the others did likewise.

"I have no words of mourning beyond those I have said," Darth Alecto began. "The time for talk is over; now is the time for action."

Anzati were not given to pounding the table or roaring agreement like lesser species, but several nodded—Ikkyn among them, his eyes burning brighter than usual. Some of those Katrijan thought more given to his perspective—Nafiri, Trokkhal, Qotinesh—gave no sign of their feelings.

"I can not always be here, but I can usually be in contact," Darth Alecto continued. "I can and will command the Brotherhood both here on Anzat and from my fortress on Lisal."

"You needn't take the entire burden of managing every one of the brethren on yourself, Master," said Katrijan.

"I do not intend to."

Katrijan nodded. At last…

Darth Alecto turned to the white-haired Anzat at her left hand. "Qritzel, I ask you to continue your work here—keep the Brotherhood's traditions, oversee those who wish to test themselves in the Abattoir, and train new brethren."

A request from the Master of the Brotherhood was a command, and if Qritzel had refused the second's red, he clearly had no further appetite for defiance. "As you wish, Master."

Well, that's to be expected, Katrijan thought. I might weigh in from time to time, but that's well within his expertise.

Darth Alecto's eyes darted across the table. "Ikkyn."

"Master."

"I will need you on Lisal or in the field often, but when you are here, make sure any brethren in the Temple have kept their skills sharp."

"I obey, Master."

Katrijan frowned. That seemed more the second's prerogative…

"Nafiri."

The slender Anzat turned her pale eyes on Darth Alecto without expression. "Yes, Master?"

"We have interacted little, but Katrijan and Qritzel both speak highly of your intelligence and your ability to see patterns. I want you to remain here on Anzat for the time being."

Nafiri picked at a carving on the tabletop with one sharp nail and tilted her head. "Doing what?"

"Synthesizing information gathered from the field. Just now, the information the brethren gather can be as useful or more than any beings they might kill."

"As you wish, Darth Alecto."

Katrijan made a little sound of discontent in the back of his throat; several eyes went to him, and Darth Alecto turned her head. "A comment, Lord Naveskatsi?"

She had done him the courtesy of the style, so Katrijan made sure his tone was properly deferential as he replied, "Master, all of these are critical responsibilities. The beings you've selected for them are all capable, of course, but I wonder how I can serve you best as your second with so much of the Brotherhood's work already delegated."

Nevya had not been treated like this; she had worked to earn Darth Alecto's trust, and they had been far closer at the end than the beginning, but from the day she had donned the red, Nevya had been intimately involved in managing the Brotherhood with—and sometimes for—Darth Alecto. Some beings—young Voshkis, Coladinne, and a few others who had served rotations on Lisal—went so far as to say Nevya had been closer to Darth Alecto than her own Sith, even Rogu. Katrijan had not expected to wield that sort of power—not at once, anyway—but had she made him second in name only? A scarlet figurehead useful only to satisfy one of the Brotherhood's laws? Katrijan had committed to putting Azeroth's downfall behind him, but did Darth Alecto still hold it close to her heart?

She turned all the way in her seat to face him now; Katrijan did not know what to make of the gleam in her eyes, though it was unsettlingly familiar. "You, my lord? You'll be working closely with Nafiri, and probably using several teams in the field.  You have the greatest responsibility of all."

Katrijan sensed a trap. "What would you have me do, Master?"

"Nawsa Arodion."

Now the brethren present did react—some hissed or snarled, others laid hands on their weapons as if wishing the Jedi Master stood within reach of their blades. Katrijan wondered if this was Darth Alecto's ploy—not to slight him outright, but to promote him only to hurl him into the jaws of death so she might replace him with someone more amenable to her revolutionary rule, all without breaking the order's laws. Katrijan cleared his throat and asked, "You wish me to kill her?"

Darth Alecto shook her head. "Nevya was as great a warrior as any Anzat in this room, and she was not equal to that test. I do not plan to throw away more lives out of undisciplined grief or uncontrolled rage."

From his seat along one wall, Rosyit called, "What then, Master?"

"Lord Naveskatsi, Arodion is your assignment. I want you to learn about her—everything about her.  Every speech she's ever given in public, every teaching of hers that has influenced the Jedi Order.  The family she left behind on Corellia, her close friends among the Jedi and elsewhere.  Get holos if you can—from Commenor or anywhere else—and find out how she fights, how she moves, how she will react in any given situation.  By the time you are done, the only person in the galaxy who knows Nawsa Arodion better than you had best be Nawsa Arodion—if that."

It was an assignment of considerable depth and complexity—a challenge worthy of the second in command of the Brotherhood of Shadows. Bowing from the neck, Katrijan asked, "And when I have, Master?"

Darth Alecto took a moment to respond, and in it she swept the room with her gaze before looking back at Katrijan. Belatedly, he understood why her expression disquieted him—once in a long while, just before he unleashed his wrath in a wave of destruction, Darth Vandak had looked the same. "When you are done, my lord, then you and I will sit down together, and we will decide exactly how I am going to kill her."