Loyalty/Part 19

"And so you killed her."

Alecto faced the hologram projection of Darth Hokhtan, aware of how much rode on the next few seconds. "She gave me no choice; she planned to attack me the moment my back was turned."

"Why would she be fool enough to do this, given how much she had already lost?"

"Because of how much she lost, Master. It was rage beyond reason." An emotion Alecto was trying desperately to contain herself.

"You're certain, Alecto?"

"Yes, Master. I could sense it, and Megaera—my telepath—confirmed it."

"The one who fled from Basrasht in the first place."

Alecto just nodded and held Darth Hokhtan's gaze. His mouth twisted, and his eyes searched her face for a long moment—just long enough, Alecto thought, to make a point.

Then he nodded. "Even the Council doesn't expect its Sith Lords to stand idly by and succumb to death. Should Warlese learn of this, I will explain the situation.  But do not let word of this spread—and should another Sith challenge you in the future, I expect you'll do your very best to avoid a situation in which you'll be forced to…defend yourself.  Do you take my point, Alecto?"

"I take your point, Master."

"Good. Your servants' performance on Commenor was adequate.  Satir Solo is dead, and the royals won't answer media questions about Galera's condition, which suggests she's dying too."

Alecto bit down on the rage that threatened to choke her. "Any reaction to Arodion's failure?"

"Nothing public as yet. If I had to guess, they'll try to suppress knowledge of her involvement because it's the failure of such a prominent Corellian."

That made sense, and it fit Alecto's observations of the Republic and the Corellians over the years. Darth Hokhtan made no mention of Nevya, though surely the Jedi were smart enough to credit the assassinations to Alecto; was that her master's courtesy, or just indifference?

"One last thing, then—there's word from Allanteen you need to hear."

Alecto felt the ghost of satisfaction, along with resigned acceptance that Rhutizh had been right—it did feel good to have her own sources of intelligence. Of course, this news had come to her from Zeff… "I already know, Master."

Darth Hokhtan raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Lady Gasald?"

Her master looked faintly pleased. "Indeed. The Kiss of Death is lost, and as best anyone can tell, Vedya with it.  You can imagine my grief."

Struggling to hold herself together, Alecto plastered on a ghastly corpse of her usual smirk. "Our grief, Master. My tears could fill an ocean.  And Vandak!  Had he lived to see this day, it would've killed him."

Darth Hokhtan gave her a rare, dry smile in return. "Quite. But with the collapse of the southern campaign, it falls to us all the more to press the Republic.  I'll have need of you soon."

"Who's the new Overlord in the south?"

"If the Council has named one, I'm unaware of it, but no matter who gets the post, several key systems in Vedya's strategy are lost to us. Unless the Jedi are foolish enough to hand us another Eriadu, it may take years to regain that momentum.  We, by contrast, have momentum, and I don't intend to waste it."

Alecto wasn't sure if Rhutizh's advice was still on her mind, or if the bloodthirsty acid burning her from the inside just would not rest without an outlet, but she said, "Last council meeting, we spoke about Shakelli's campaigns around Obroa-skai to blood the new recruits. I want to go too."

Darth Hokhtan's eyes narrowed. "In what capacity? They won't be large enough to demand multiple commanders."

Alecto shook her head. "I don't need a command. But I want more experience being at the line, not just beyond it.  And my adepts could do with some blooding themselves.  We'll fight wherever Shakelli needs us, kill whoever he needs killed.  Force save me, maybe I could even learn something from him."

It was one of the few times Alecto had ever seen Darth Hokhtan truly surprised, but after a moment he shrugged. "As you wish. Contact Shakelli about the details.  May the Force serve you well, Alecto."

"And bring you victory, Master."

Once the hologram dissolved, Alecto dug her fingertips into the tabletop until her hands ached. The battle to hold her feelings inside was a knock-down, drag-out fight every second, and she could never lower her guard—not before her adepts or the brethren, lest they lose respect for her, or before Darth Hokhtan or her fellow Sith, lest they think her weakened by loss and…and…

Grief?

Metal groaned as the chair beside hers buckled. Gritting her teeth, Alecto took her time smoothing it back out with the Force, desperate not to lose control. She had been fighting this battle for an entire rotation now, ever since Zeff, Shrizzzqadl, and Dolre had returned, their mission accomplished…but alone.

Alecto had fulfilled the Council's command, vetted some of her most promising servants in a harsher crucible than even she might have designed, won more of Zurgharjhen's loyalty and amplified Megaera's, and crushed an enemy who might otherwise have undone her, but the sweet fruits of victory turned to ash in her mouth with the catastrophe on Commenor—the loss of Nevya. Beyond losing a capable servant and a gifted killer—beyond how Nevya's death had thrown the stability of the Brotherhood back into disarray—Alecto had realized only upon the strike team's return that, for the first time since she was an eight-year-old girl with a scared little girl's name, she had found someone she truly trusted. And, once more, that bond had been ripped apart.

Basrasht had dealt her this blow, Alecto fumed. But for Basrasht's treacherous attack, Alecto would have been on Commenor, where Nawsa Arodion would have died, and the Solos with her. She was glad she had killed Basrasht down in the underbelly of what would become her fortress; had Basrasht left Lisal ahead of the strike team's return, Alecto wasn't sure she could have resisted the temptation to hunt her down and torture her to death.

And then, there was Nawsa Arodion…

Even as Alecto felt her skin crawl, she sensed a mind beyond the door of the communications hub, pressing a silent inquiry on her, and she sent a jab at it. The door opened, and Keshthel stepped in and knelt, ashen. "Master, you commanded me to tell you when Rogu arrived."

Send him in, Alecto almost commanded, but she stopped herself. What came next had to be done coldly, without emotion, and she was not there. "Have him wait."

"Yes, Master."

When the door sealed, Alecto put her head in her hands for several minutes, meditating on the dark side. She did not deny her loss—the dark side worked wonders, not miracles—but she strove to put it in its proper place. She had been wounded, and the proper response to a wound was not to unleash the dark side's might against anyone and everyone within range, and so create new enemies and threats or deprive herself of useful tools. No, the right response was to use that wound as fuel to return pain a hundredfold on the ones who had wounded her.

Do you know the difference between rage and fury, Alecto? Warlese Oruval had once asked her, when she was only an aspiring adept and he the Headmaster of the Sith Academy on Korriban.

Basic was Alecto's native language, so she had been baffled. ''No, lord. Aren't they both anger?''

''Yes, but in the same way a bomb and a lightsaber are both weapons. Rage is anger uncontrolled—explosive and powerful, yes, but as dangerous to the source as to anyone else. More, perhaps. You'll hear some fools among your peers, the ones who admire the Sith Marauders of old, speak of rage as the dark side's greatest strength. They're delusional, Alecto, and their vision of the dark side and the galaxy is as small as they are.''

Even before she had aspired to sit at the right hand of a Sith Overlord, Alecto had never wanted to be small. Never again.

''Fury is angry directed, channeled and controlled to a single target as its source desires. Emotions fuel the dark side, but the dark side will only be mastered by those who control their emotions and use it properly, not instinctually. We are not beasts, Alecto, and the dark side was not meant to serve animals who can't move beyond their instincts.''

Only when Alecto was certain her instincts would not control her did she take the seat at the head of the table, summon Keshthel back, and have him admit Zeff.

Though his face was, as ever, unreadable behind his helmet, Alecto sensed his trepidation. She had not spoken to him, Shrizzzqadl, or Dolre since she had extracted every detail of the Commenor mission and Nevya's fall from them, calling on the Force to sift the truth of their words so hard that they had squirmed in their chairs. She had nearly asked Megaera to sit in as well, but then, too, she had caught herself in time; Megaera was special, and she had the potential to be great someday, but too many reminders of that would make her arrogant and careless. Neither did Alecto wish her to think Alecto needed her as a crutch, and even less did she want it to be true.

In the end she had let the three men go, content that Nevya's death could not be laid at their feet; Zeff had made the right call, and she had sensed his own anger at how the mission had played out. Seeing him again did not do her mood any favors, but Alecto focused on that cold, emotionless veneer as Zeff knelt. "Sit."

He took the chair she had just vacated while Alecto ran over the words she had mapped out one final time. "I'm leaving for Anzat tonight, but there's something we need to clear up before I go."

After a few seconds of silence, Zeff asked, "Yes, Master?"

Alecto considered, then fixed her eyes on his helmet's visor. "I'm going to talk for a moment here, and I don't need you to say anything. In fact, for your sake, don't say anything—just listen.  Do you understand?"

"Y—" Zeff caught himself and nodded.

"Everyone knows you came to my service from Lady Gasald's, after your last master died," Alecto began. "All of my colleagues know you've served me since—on the Unquenchable Fire, mostly, but here over the last few months."

She paused, then said, "But some of my colleagues believe you never stopped serving Gasald. That you weren't given to me as a way to chastise her for mismanaging Darth Saleej's people on Milagro—but given to me by her.  To spy on me."

Sensing Zeff's reaction, Alecto warned him with a look; when she was sure he wasn't going to speak to the fear she sensed in him, she said, "Maybe that's true, and you've never really served me. Maybe it's a lie, and you've been loyal to me from the first day.  Maybe the truth lies somewhere in between.  But now, it doesn't matter.

"Vedya Gasald is probably dead, and if she's not, she probably will be if the Council of Five ever finds her. If she could ever have helped you, that time is over.  Your only hope of becoming a Sith Lord now is through me.

"If you've always been loyal to me, then nothing changes," Alecto said. "If you've been Gasald's all along, then this is your chance to correct course. I don't want to know which one it is, and I certainly don't want you to tell me.  I only want to hear one word out of your mouth, Zeff, and it's an answer to this question: will you serve me, and only me, with complete fidelity, from this day forward?"

Zeff rasped, then paused; Alecto thought he must have swallowed. "Yes."

Alecto nodded. "Good. Because you need me, but I need you too—I need people I can rely on.  Nawsa Arodion just cut off my right hand, and neither you nor anyone else can replace her, but I need you to do your best anyway.  With Gasald gone and Darth Scyrahd fighting Aresh forever, Darth Hokhtan is our only real chance to cut the heart out of the Republic; he'll need me for that, and I'll need all of you at your best."

"I understand, Master."

Getting to her feet, Alecto said, "You're in command until I return. The construction droids have their instructions, so stay out of their way.  Keep up training and press the adepts hard, but no fatalities."

"Yes Master."

As they headed toward the door, Alecto sensed him hesitating on the verge of speech. Her patience worn thin, she said, "Well?"

Though he started, he asked, "What about Nevya, Master?"

Alecto gritted her teeth. "What about her?"

"Revenge! What are we going to do about it?"

Alecto stopped, and Zeff stopped beside her. The anger his vocoder conveyed matched the raw emotion in the Force, leaking through the hairline fractures that latticed his control. Whatever his loyalties may have been before this day, Alecto could sense his desire for revenge was real.

There might be hope for him, too.

"All in good time."