IC: Imperatrix Leto-Hesphora
Triumvir Vasirion, Triumvir Dumé Xarxes, Tribune Xxys, Dark Lord Taranos, Dark Lady Amphetra Morr, Dark Lord Seth-Ammon, and Dark Lord Maldeus
616 ABY, First Quarter
One Week Before the Feast of the Circle
Council Chamber, Imperial Palace, Kaas City, Dromund Kaas
“We have a problem.”
The air in the Council chamber, though still, began to vibrate when these words left Darth Leto-Hesphora, Imperatrix of the Final Sith Order’s mouth. She tossed a datapad onto the long war table between all the gathered Councilors with utter aggravation, and the sound was almost like a clap of thunder making Councilors recoil from their work. Its screen was still lit, showing a message just received. It had been a relatively calm and normal Council session preparing for the year’s conquest until then, and all eyes snapped to their ruler, looking up from the various maps, holos, and screens they had been quietly discussing.
“Senator Soont Dezik has just been murdered.” Leto leaned forward, putting her hands on the edge of the table. Her face was cast in grim light from the holograms, all pale blue and sinister.
To anyone outside of that room, it would have made no sense why the death of an unaffiliated Mid Rim Senator would faze the Dark Council– but the Council knew. Soont Dezik was the Senator from an up-and-coming planet known for its ore mining and labor export called Herrst. It was a promising world, with great potential to be an ally and an asset for the Order, and as such, Soont Dezik had secretly brokered with the Final Sith Order… for the small price of thirty percent of its ore exports and a quarter of its labor exports, the Order would bankroll all of Senator Dezik’s campaigns on Anaxes as well as his very expensive gambling addiction. Anything to keep him in the Order’s pocket, really, and anything to keep enough Sith-backed pawns on the Senate game board.
The troubling thing about this unfortunate development was that Dezik had been angling to loosen trade restrictions on heavy metals, which would have benefited the Order greatly in a major way: exorbitant profits from every mining planet under the Imperatrix’s thumb. Without Dezik leading the charge, the campaign would collapse.
This arrangement with Senator Dezik was iron-clad clandestine, arranged directly between Dezik and the inimitable Tribune. No one could have known about it, which meant one of three things:
One, Soont Dezik’s murder was a genuine fluke. Simply, someone hated him, or he owed someone money, and he got his just desserts.
Two, other Senators had worked out something deeper was at play with Dezik’s dealings, and had uncovered his shady finances– or simply wished to nip his campaigning in the bud.
Or, three, and most damningly, someone there in the Dark Council chamber was to blame.
Leto spoke over her shoulder. “Guardsmen, lock the doors.” And before any one of the Councilors could flinch, the doors to the chamber were bolted and shuttered with heavy blast doors with terrible, accusatory thunks.
The accusation hung like a dead bantha, filling the room with a miasma of suspicion.
Well, this day just keeps getting better and better, thought Maldeus. With the Council Chambers locked, there was no way of escaping for any potential traitors to the Empress. They would be trapped in here with six angry Lords and one furious Imperatrix, left with no other option but to die a horrifying death. Unless, of course, there was more than one Councillor in on this little debacle. Or, perhaps this mystery involved none of them at all. Maldeus was not pleased with the suspicion hanging in the air. With his purposeful obscurity, he would be a prime target for any interrogations by the others here. He only hoped reason would win the day if it came to that, for his blasters certainly wouldn’t.
The order startled Amphetra into alertness, and she started at the closed doors with a sort of blank awareness. She looked around the room with curiosity, wondering who would have been stupid enough to interfere with the Imperatrix’s plan so directly. Perhaps it was unbecoming of her, but Amphetra thought herself above suspicion in such things, primarily because her kills were just so… distinctive. And because she was too proud of her abilities to kill in any other way, unless ordered to. Besides, she always hated politics, and assassinating Senator Whats-his-face would have had no meaning for her. But if a Councilor had done it, she hoped she got to help kill them.
“How’d he die then?” the Nautolan said into the heavy silence of the room. “That could help whittle it down.”
Xxys had brokered the deal by order of the Imperatrix herself and, given the time it had taken to make the deal, it was not in his or anyone’s immediate interests to derail the arrangement. Now his eyes narrowed, as this was likely a plan to discredit him or to shift blame in his direction as he was the only one that had inside knowledge of the deal in the first place.
Xxys’ return to the Empire had become legendary, and his fealty to the crown even more devout as he had no connection to this time other than the Empress. The Queen that had been so young when he was “lost” was now a woman even more powerful than her mother had ever dreamed of becoming, and he himself had been transformed by his passing through the darkness of Otherspace emerging as a new creature into a new realm.
His return to the Council had been at the behest of the Empress, so to now find himself locked in the Council chamber with her, and possibly the deepest spy the Empire had even known, was to say the least… interesting.
Xxys had been the silent hand of death to any that opposed the throne for more than two lifetimes, and while he held breath in his lungs, he would defend the one that the Dark Side chose to seat upon it. More over this “child” (she would always be that precocious little girl that would peek at him from behind her mother’s chair and make a face that, even to this day, she made when frustrated) was Xxys’ last connection to his past, so he had already moved to put himself between the other attending Councilors and the Empress. Not that she needed any protection (her power was by order of magnitude greater than her mother’s had been) but his sense of duty compelled him to be between Her and the dangers of the universe.
Vasirion found the accusation to be preposterous. Though it was pointing towards it being one of them, surely the Imperatrix didn’t believe it to be her. She couldn’t be too sure about the rest of them, but the Triumvirs wouldn't bother with killing a senator. It would be such a useless, petty death. One unworthy of their time. Lady Amphetra had asked the right question, but had she asked it too quickly? For now, she kept her thoughts to herself, looking at all of them to try to read their facial expressions. One of them would crack, and she preferred it to be soon.
To Leto’s other side, the elder of the lesser Triumvirs templed his fingers. Unknown to the both of them, Dumé’s thoughts were akin to Vasirion’s. The conquests of the past had not yet merited a full invasion of the Mid-Rim planets, and a senator murder being linked back to the Sith Order would increase conflicts between the two prematurely. Personally, because of the nature of the death, Dumé highly doubted that any in attendance were guilty, but a 2% suspicion was a suspicion worth investigating, though he could not be certain that the Imperatrix’s anger would not yet befall any of them, even if unjustly.
The Stormlord's eyes trailed around the room, hoping to read the microexpressions of each Dark Lord seated at their place. They all seemed to have quite the poker face. Taranos doubted any of the Dark Council would jeopardize one of the Imperatrix's political affiliates, but the Sith had executed many a traitor before, so it wouldn't be that surprising. Even if there was a rat, a Dark Lord would know exactly how to cover their tracks and pin it on another perpetrator.
Taranos' left hand had been under his chin this entire time, while his right was beneath the table in his lap. With the tension building in the room, it shifted closer to his lightclub's hilt. One could never be too self-protective in a room full of powerhouses.
Leto’s left hand fell to rest heavily on the hilt of her sword, the thick leather of its belt groaning under the action. With her other hand, she made a flippant gesture towards the datapad. “Message from Dezik’s secretary says he was found unresponsive in his offices.”
The message in question had been sent to one Mond Obri, an alias of Tribune Xxys’ known to Senator Dezik’s secretary (some precocious young woman bent on achieving her law degree and unafraid to step on toes and ingratiate herself with fat and greedy senators like Dezik) as an investor looking to strike a deal to support Dezik’s trade campaigns in exchange for– in her mind– whatever the hell other fat and greedy businessmen wanted. Her message was angry, accusatory, demanding that Obri fess up to the killing. Clearly, this secretary had her own suspicions.
But surely the Council knew better.
Maldeus leaned forward. “No signs of trauma? Wounds? Do we think it’s poison?”
“Could be,” Leto said. Her voice was clearly still full of frustration.
Well, at least that might take some of the suspicions off Maldeus’ shoulders. He’d never been one to use such tactics when taking down a target, even before he became a Sith Lord. Then again, most others here wouldn’t have known that. “An autopsy report would be helpful, then. If it was poison, then we can trace it to a user. Or if he died some other way, well, that’ll narrow it down even more so.”
Some other way? If it were a Lord of this chamber and they killed Dezik with poison then they would be undeserving of this company, as lazy as they were stupid. A potent mind shard could cause a life-ending stroke in an instant. Or one could send a Sith Phantasm and suffocate him by filling the lungs and throat, and dissipate into a nothingness so complete it couldn’t be said to have ever existed at all. A Sith Lord? Make him walk off a cliff, have a loved one shoot him and then theirself, send a demon assassin, tear his essence free of his body and cast it into the aether; do something not only worthy of a Lord but something intelligent! They are here, one should remember. They are smart enough, and it’s likely another may be pinned for the sins of another. And yet the Triumvirate was even smarter and more experienced than any of them. But here and now was among the last places to contemplate such things, for the Triumvirate could see right through him if they chose to, and a presence as slippery as a Shi’ido’s was prone to draw suspicion, and thoughts that reeked of seditious intent would ever be one word short of condemnation. It was best that Seth-Ammon keep his mouth shut and his mind empty, and not add to the conversation.
Leto folded her arms and clenched her jaw. “I dread the implications of this. I’m not sure it’s quite so simple as an autopsy, Lord Maldeus; the secretary’s message is barely a full picture. And still–” she flicked her eyes around the table– “I have suspicions I can’t shake.”
Dumé had not yet interrogated Varon Seit, the Sephi senator from Arkania, on what he knew of Dezik’s death, but he was confident that, given Seit had never once reported on Dezik, that the two had no connection, and thus his own planet was in the clear. As for any other suspicions he had, none of the truly suspicious potential culprits were present in this room.
Maldeus was never one to allow silence to linger for too long. “Let us hear these suspicions, then. If you’re willing to share, my liege.”
Lord Xarxes stood, eyes meeting Maldeus’ sharply. “The Triumvirate will determine together when information regarding Dezik’s death will be released. The more important issue at hand is what to do about the aftermath, and how to keep this catastrophe from impacting the Order.” The Patriarch knew well that if the culprit was within these walls, revealing too many details, or any at all, could allow them to cover their tracks. Besides, Dumé had seldom seen the Empress in her current state before, and did not intend to stoke those flames with rumor.
Maldeus leaned back in his seat, giving a slight nod to the standing Triumvir. “Very well. What must be done will be done.” Being left out of the loop was never a feeling that he enjoyed, but he understood the sentiment all the same.
Leto shifted her weight back, rocking onto her heels. “We all knew the arrangement with Dezik was as classified as it gets. Every one of you would know that to divulge this would mean certain death, at my hands.” Her eyes made another round around the table. Still there were Councilors who had not yet spoken, and their silence was deafening. “I want to believe you all to be innocent. And surely I could simply rip what I want to know from your skulls if I desired to. But I want this murder to receive its due diligence. So– Councilors, entreat me. Help me lay my suspicions to rest. Convince me that you remain loyal and have not breached our covenant as the highest order of this Empire.”
This couldn’t be it, thought Seth-Ammon. This wasn’t genuine. The very word ‘genuine’ was anathema to the Sith. No… she could read them all easily. They weren’t Sith, now, here, they were open books. She simply turned the pages of each and every one of them to where she wanted by pressuring them into thinking of how to prove their loyalty. She could learn every secret, every plot! Or was it even more grand, more disgustingly brilliant and cunning than he could even fathom? The very last thing he needed now was panic so pure it was visible as sweat rolling down his forehead. At least he wore his headdress. How could he keep his mind empty, erect that mental shield when the most powerful known being in the galaxy required—no, demanded they think and ponder? The very first tool, the most important and fundamental of his studies was all he had now. It’s what would get him through it: learning to lose. You’ve already lost. Take advantage of that.
“Hail, Imperatrix. I open my mind to you, every neural pathway ever connected to Dezik is yours to drink from.” It always was, fool. He winced in chagrin. Stating that he opened his mind was a gesture, not an action. The Imperatrix didn’t need him to open anything. But it reduced pressure on him and placed it on the others.
“And you know what it is that I desire, my liege,” said Maldeus. “Dead senators I’ve never cared to learn about will not further my goals. Disrupting the Order’s operations would only prove a hindrance, even.” He would instead reason with her than give her an open invitation into his mind. It’s not like he’d be able to stop her either way, but the sensation of mental invasion was far from pleasant, and he was not the kind of man who enjoyed discomfort.
Dumé followed suit. “As Seth-Ammon says, so too do I offer the parts of my mind relating to Dezik.” He knew well enough that his mind, even when sight into it was allowed, was a steely fortress of unparalleled might, and the truth that he had never once spoken to Dezik, or had any knowledge of him outside of what the Empress had previously revealed, that he was safe from accusation. He doubted the Empress would even take advantage of the offer, especially given her confidence in her own abilities. Only a fool would offer their mind up as a bluff to Leto.
Taranos decided it would be best to open his mind to the Imperatrix as well. It was telling that she would think the most loyal of them would betray, but even the strongest were capable of betrayal. "I offer the parts of my mind that pertain to any Senators, Dezik included." The Stormlord had never spoken to or had any dealings with the Senator from Herrst before, and his planet's metal production did not have bearing on Taranos.
His hand was still near his Lightclub, and the Lightning was only an impulse away if a fight broke out, but in a rare occurrence, he greatly hoped it wouldn't come to that.
It seems all the Council is to follow in that template, thought Seth-Ammon. I thought I'd avoided excess effort and scrutiny, but now they might all tempt the Imperatrix into violating our minds in their entirety.
The Nautolan watched her fellow Councilors with interest, her body lax and unconcerned. It hadn’t really occurred to her to immediately jump into letting the Imperatrix into her mind, but it would probably help. She noted how Taranos’ hand was still near his weapon, and she mentally marked it, wondering if things would unravel quicker than she thought.
“I’ll do as the Imperatrix commands to prove my loyalty, and she might look at any part of my mind that she wishes.” Amphetra cocked her head, as if a little thought had come buzzing into her ear. “Does opening your mind to anything that pertains to Senators also mean anything involving assassins? Or are those unrelated?”
Someone stirred in a dark corner of the room, who had been silent up until this point: a glimmer of copper hair, the shuffling of stone-colored robes, and the Imperatrix’s adviser, a Zabrak by the name of Mnemosyne, stepped into the pool of light around the table. Leaning close to Leto’s ear, she said in a voice like honey, “Let them be, Leto. They tell truths.”
Leto’s eyes seemed to shutter, and the tension in her jaw eased.
Dumé inwardly scowled the moment the druidess stepped into the light. His opinion toward her was hidden, though intensely negative. More than anyone he had ever encountered, even his treacherous former steward, the woman held immense power in her words, the sort that could bend most to her will. Dumé did not trust her, as he suspected many did not, but he recalled clearly how that had fared for the last person to question Mnemosyne’s involvement in imperial affairs. He did not envy their fate.
“What can we do to aid you in solving this mystery?” asked Maldeus.
Leto was still rocking on her heels. “We’ll give it its due process,” she said, and her voice was audibly more relaxed. But she did seem to come out of it, if but a little, eyes brightening. “We’ll give this investigation to the Circle of Lords. Though my plot for Dezik may be nil at this point, it would serve us well to discover who our enemies may be within the Senate. Not all may be lost.”
Mnemosyne continued to linger around Leto, hovering just behind her right shoulder. Her eyes, keen and searching, flicked up and down Dumé’s form, the thoughts behind them utterly unreadable. The monolithic Patriarch likewise scanned the room, his eyes gazing upon the Zabrak for only a moment between Seth-Ammon and the Imperatrix, giving no indication of where his mind rested. The invisible dance was abandoned on Dumé’s end as he foresaw another about to speak, turning his gaze to the fully-masked Sith.
Maldeus pondered in silence for a moment, thoughts flickering like sparks. If there was one thing he could use to aid in this investigation, it was the curse of his double life. “I have an idea to aid in that endeavor, my Liege. Though I would be wise to speak with you of it in private.” It would not have been the first time Apollo had found himself among unusual, senatorial bedfellows. Perhaps it was time for Apollo to do some work for the Final Sith Order for once. To this, Leto gave a nod.
The Warrior-King scanned the room once more, and though the presence of the Zabrak was a bit unnerving, it was comforting to know that the Imperatrix trusted her judgment. His hand returned to its natural resting place, away from his saber's hilt. Now the manner of Dezik’s assassination would be assigned to the Circle of Lords, and Taranos could not have been more pleased. He cared very little for the affairs of the Senators.
Amphetra shrugged, a little disappointed that she wouldn’t have any fun, but relieved that there wasn’t any paperwork. The druid’s interruption had been timely, perhaps too timely? Amphetra never knew what to think about that woman other than she kind of creeped her out.
Xxys did not relax his posture and made it clear that he would be between the throne and any that sought to oppose her who sat upon it. He did not trust the adviser who had such a strong voice in the ear of the Empress and he was loath to let her decisions be swayed by one that may have more interest in their own agenda than that of the one they served. He had lived long enough to be wary of any that sought to be at the heart of power without actually wielding it. They tended to be the ones that took advantage of their station to control those far more powerful by flattery or simply agreeing to anything regardless of the outcome so long as their own interests were protected.
Xxys’ voice was cold and measured as he spoke. “The death of this senator is too useful to be random. There is more here than meets the eye and as the one who brokered this deal I am very concerned how close this has come to the Empress. No doubt I am the prime suspect in this case, and while I do not offer my mind to be scrolled through like some after action report, the Empress’s will is beyond resistance. I have nothing to hide, and no one to protect other than the Empress. She is my sole concern.”
Xxys looked at the others without expression. After his return to the Empire he had no one left other than the Empress to connect him to his past. He had outlived most of the Council from his time, and now the last living person from his past was the ruler of the galaxy. She was his Queen. She was his purpose in this new era.
Darth Vasirion remained silent as the others spoke, smirking as she listened to the other Lords claim their innocence. Her mind was off somewhere else though, going through each possible scenario as to why any of them would kill the Senator, or who could have if not them. Who would benefit the most? Who would have the time and means to do it, or who would have the means to hire someone else to do it for them? The Lucent Hand played with the golden rosary that had always seemed to be wrapped around her left hand. She lifted the chain wrapped fist up to her lips, kissing the blue colored gemstone before she finally spoke.
“I’ve never lied, my Empress. I care little for the lives of Senators, I care even less to go out of my way to kill one of them. Especially when my dear brother is a Senator, and my involvement in the murder of one of his colleagues would put his own position at risk. Beyond him, my planet has only relatively recently rejoined the Senate. I wouldn’t risk having us barred from it so soon. But if it pleases you, my mind is yours to search.”
Mnemosyne’s gaze seemed hooded, sultry, as she began to wander a circle around the Council, gathered about the table as they were. Her feet were bare, and delicate golden anklets on each ankle jingled with tiny bells. Her arms were drawn into her robes, hands hidden by the voluminous fabric. She was prowling almost like an animal, wily and untamed. She was the closest adviser to the Imperatrix, detested by many yet somehow lionized by Leto…
Leto breathed deep. “You are a loyal Council,” she said, addressing them all at once. Her voice carried the same tone as a teacher speaking to a young, unruly student’s might, at the same time commending and condescending. “Yes, we will give this investigation to the Circle. I’ll reveal this at the Feast next week. Until then, say nothing.”
Despite seeming to prove contrary this evening, Maldeus had no trouble keeping his lips sealed. He nodded, leaning forward and contemplating his next move in silence. There was much to be done, and knowing the Empress, there would not be a lot of time to get it done. Swiftness and efficiency… he could do that.
Taranos nodded in agreement silently. There was not much more to say on the matter of the Senator's death. Truly, as important as the partnership was, investigating the death was beneath the Final Dark Council, and he was pleased it was being given to the Circle of Lords. Let them make themselves useful in a top secret task.
Joining the collective sigh of relief, Seth-Ammon's heartbeat slowed. At once, an idea made its appearance. It may be too late, too public. But it was worth speaking about, at least—a reminder.
"Your Majesty, is it possible that we can keep Dezik… alive? Perhaps one of us, maybe several of us, could use a Force Phantom to at least keep things together for some time. Perhaps, even… I could take over his position for a time. My species' gift…"
“Too little too late, I fear,” said Leto. “News travels fast on Anaxes. But a quality idea nonetheless.” Leto inclined her head towards Seth-Ammon. “One I shall keep in mind the next time one of our Senators is murdered… as I am sure there’ll be a next time.” By this time, Mnemosyne had made a full lap around the table, and had taken her place behind Leto’s shoulder again. She gave Seth-Ammon a perfunctory stare. Dumé would remember that. She was scanning for weakness, and wasn’t hiding it in the least.
Leto felt Mnemosyne’s presence behind her again, and she took the cue. “Council session is dismissed,” she said, collecting the datapad she had so irritatedly thrown. “Lord Xxys, I will speak with you first thing tomorrow regarding our “friend”, Mond Obri, and how we should proceed. For everyone else, we reconvene tomorrow for a final strategy meeting for Muunilinst. Same time.” Her tone was curt and noticeably withdrawn. She sat in the tall-backed chair she had been ignoring for the entire conversation, immediately leaning to one side and bringing her chin to rest in her hand, datapad still held in the other. Her thoughts were a mess, a turbulent mixture of suspicion and doubt. As Councilors began to file out of the room, the whirlwind in her mind calmed, and the room was silent save for the tinny buzzing of the dim overhead lights.
Only she and Mnemosyne remained; Imperatrix and her counsel.
“This complication peeves me, Mnemosyne,” Leto said, voice quieted. Truly, this murder was a problem.
The silence of the room continued, long and unbroken, until the musical jingle of Mnemosyne’s anklets ended it. She moved with a certain dance-like grace, at once deliberate and wildly free, coming around from behind Leto’s chair. Her hair, long and loose in carefree ringlets, was almost like fire under the cold lights of the Council chamber, and Leto was entranced by it as Mnemosyne knelt before the Empress, bringing her face to Leto’s level. Reaching forward, she placed a hand on Leto’s knee– a gesture intended to be reassuring. “You are right to mistrust them,” she said, “Not one of them has truly been proven innocent. Do not lay aside your suspicion.”
Leto held Mnemosyne’s gaze; her hazel eyes were unblinking and earnest, and a mutual acknowledgment of some strange covenant passed between the two women. She swallowed. “You’re right.”
Mnemosyne patted her knee. “I know,” she said. “I know I am.” Standing, Mnemosyne drew her simple-woven robes more snugly about herself, and tossed that fiery hair. She cocked her chin, a feral glint in her eyes. “Have I ever not been?”