#it's okay he was still accepted as the mandalorian apprentice later !!

[apricusapollo]

very tiny grogu <3

[keldae]

Drastic Measures (Chapter Nine)

Yep. This planet was miserably cold and wet, and Xaja still hated it. She hunched her shoulders under the borrowed black robes and followed her father out of the hangar to the speeder station. She was thankful for the double dosage of stims given her by both Doc and Dr. Lokin before leaving the ship, keeping the poisoning symptoms at bay. Behind her, she could hear Doc and Theron as they walked in something vaguely approaching unison, their armoured footsteps enough to drown out Dr. Lokin’s footfalls behind them. Somehow, the knowledge that she couldn’t speak to her father or friends, or that her father wouldn’t risk their lives by breaking character to give her any sort of reassurance, made her feel even more small and afraid. Reanden’s last direction had been to not say or do anything without his lead until they were safe within the Citadel and in her brother’s company — there were eyes and ears everywhere, not all of which reported to him. “Acina and Vowrawn have their own spies in the city, not to mention people taking credits from Zakuul or… certain individuals in the Republic. Assume everyone’s directly reporting to either Saresh or Arcann.”

“Even the droids?”

“Especially the droids.”

Xaja kept that in mind as she boarded the speeder taxi to the Citadel. The pilot droid gave all of its passengers a cursory look, but didn’t voice any questions, merely accepted her father’s orders. This wasn’t her dad talking though: this was the Sith Intelligence Commander, his voice cold and emotionless as any Imperial spy might have been expected to sound. If she hadn’t known her dad to be caring and gentle and protective behind closed doors, she would have been intimidated by him. She still felt a shudder down her back, as it was. Little wonder Cipher Nine is still feared in the Republic — and across a good bit of the Empire. Even Acina’s still letting him do whatever he wants. Does she fear him, too?

The taxi wound through Kaas City, landing on the pad before the Sith Sanctum. Glancing to the right, Xaja could see the entrance pad for what her father had informed her was Intelligence’s headquarters; to the left, the nearly-deserted Mandalorian Enclave. Most of the bounty hunters in the service of the Empire had been recalled by Mand’alor the Avenger, the newest leader of their people. The few remaining were either token representatives, or not Mandalorians at all. Either way, it certainly was not somewhere that Xaja wanted to visit.

Of course, the kriffing Sith Sanctum wasn’t somewhere she wanted to be either. But it really was their best option right now, between the element of surprise and the hope that her brother could protect her, Theron, and Doc. She didn’t need to be a spy like her father to know that if she showed fear now, all five of them were probably going to die as their covers were blown. The arrogant Sith Lord walk isn’t too different from a Jedi’s stride. Just act like you own the place. You’ve spent enough time around Scourge. Just mimic how he stood and walked… but, y’know, shorter. She fell into step behind her father as he started walking in, sensing Theron, Doc, and Lokin retaking their positions behind her. To anyone observing, they hopefully would look like an escort for a Sith visitor for Darth Imperius — and if the Commander of Sith Intelligence was walking with them, who was going to question it?

“Ahhh, Commander.” Okay, apparently someone was going to question it. “Finally had your fill of gallivanting around the galaxy, hmm?”

“Are you now trying to keep track of my schedule, Lorman?” Her father sounded like he was trying to sound polite, while keeping himself from strangling this newcomer. “I’m flattered that you’re following me, really.”

“It’s Minister Lorman!” Xaja raised an eyebrow under her hood at the furious sputter from this Lorman. “Is that really so difficult to remember, Commander?”

“My pardon. My mind gets so consumed with things of importance like the security of the Empire and doing my job… oh, and remembering what groceries I need to pick up on my way home.”

More angry sputtering. “Why I -- the nerve -- Empress Acina will hear of this!”

“Yes, I’m sure she will. Doesn’t the Empress have a pair of boots for you to lick, Lorman? If you’ll excuse me…”

“It’s Minister Lorman! Minister!”

“Yes, you’ve said. Move. I need to speak with Darth Imperius immediately.”

“Darth Imperius is otherwise occupied at the moment,” Lorman said through gritted teeth. “If you’ll pass along your message to me I’ll make sure it gets to him—”

“The only message I have for you, Lorman, is one that isn’t repeatable in polite company. The important message is for Imperius’ ears only. Unless you’ve been hired on as his new secretary? If I’d known he was looking for one, I’d have offered him a protocol droid.”

Lorman sounded too angry to speak for a moment, and Xaja almost grinned under the hood. Only the reminder that her lips were still visible kept her expression still. “Your position does not make you invincible, Commander! I am the Minister of Logistics! I still outrank you!”

“And I know your HoloNet passwords, the names of your pets, and where you sleep. By the way, your taste in music is terrible.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“You’re asking that of the man escorting Imperius’ newest apprentice?” Reanden’s feet shifted in front of Xaja’s vision as he seemed to move closer to Lorman. “… How did your brain learn human speech, Lorman? I’m just so curious.” Xaja felt a tug in her mind from the little knot that felt like Theron, warm and bright and comforting — it felt like he was desperately trying to not laugh.

“It’s Minister!”

“I would have named my childhood neighbour’s cousin’s pet gizka as a minister instead of you. Acina really must be desperate.”

“You -- ! You would compare me to a gizka?!”

“… No, you’re right. The poor gizka deserved better.” Xaja wanted to laugh at how much her father was taunting this so-called minister. She could feel Theron’s grin under his helmet through their bond.

“You insolent -- ! You would insult me like this in front of a Sith?!”

“Acolyte Xalia seems quite amused by this. If she wasn’t, you would probably already be dead or wishing you were.” Xaja could almost hear the smug smile in her father’s voice. “Bit of a psychopath, this one. Doesn’t talk a lot, although she doesn’t really need to, as far as I’ve seen. I think she comes from a group of cannibals.”

Dammit, Dad, you’re having far too much fun with this.

“… So, he picks ex-Jedi and aliens for his apprentices, and now… cannibals?” Lorman sounded a little bit squeamish. The tug that was Theron fairly vibrated with his amusement.

“I value my life enough to know not to question his choices in apprentices. I’d be careful though, Lorman. This one’s also got the patience of a Jawa on stimcaf and…” Reanden turned, and Xaja wasn’t sure if the sudden shift to his voice was supposed to be nervousness or suppressed laughter. “… Doctor Lokin, do you remember the last time she ate anything?…”

“About four hours ago, sir. She, uhh… might be getting hungry again --”

Xaja couldn’t resist. She turned her hooded head in the direction of Lorman’s voice and gave him what could be best described as a maniacal grin, knowing her mouth was still visible, and was rewarded with a stifled yelp of terror. Even her father shuddered. “Oh, bloody hell, not right now, Acolyte, please don’t make me have to file more paperwork…” he muttered under his breath, just loudly enough to be audible.

“She’s mad, Commander! And Imperius must be insane if he’s picked this one as his newest apprentice!”

“Like I said, I don’t question Darth-kriffing-Imperius. I’m just grateful he gave me the warning to keep her under armed guard. Any more questions before she completely runs out of patience and I have to pay to have you cleaned out of my uniform?”

“… As you were, Commander.” Xaja heard what sounded like boots scrambling for purchase on the smooth floor as Lorman beat a hasty retreat.

“Thank you, Lorman. Come along, Acolyte, and please remember your master said to not eat these guards, or me…”

“It’s Minis --!” Xaja turned her head in the direction of Lorman’s voice and emitted a tiny hiss around her grin, and heard him yelp as he ran. She heard something that sounded like Doc trying not to choke on his own laughter behind his helmet and felt Theron’s amusement through their bond — if he hadn’t been undercover, he probably would have been on the ground laughing.

Reanden led the group to one of the turbolifts down a corridor and, once everyone was on board, entered the command for the lift to rise a few storeys. A few moments later, the turbolift opened on the destination floor, and Xaja could never figure out how her father mastered the stride of someone acting like he was hustling out of a confined space with a questionably-sane Sith without looking like he was trying to escape. She followed with an almost lazy stride, and Theron, Doc, and Lokin all exited after her. This area of the Citadel had been decorated with a much more luxurious hand: Red banners adorned the walls, proudly displaying the Sith Empire’s crest; echoes bounced around the corridor as their footsteps sounded on the black marble floor. She shouldn’t have been surprised her father knew his way; he lead them down the hallway, around a corner, and through a door without bothering to knock.

The Kaleesh standing in the atrium turned and inclined his head minutely. “Commander,” he said in a deep voice, his words clipped and sort. “You have returned sooner than expected.”

“There were… developments that required an in-person report sooner than later,” Reanden answered. “Is your master in, Xalek?”

The alien Sith glanced toward the closed door leading deeper into the chambers. “He, and the ambassador from Zakuul. They have been speaking for some time.” He paused. “My master’s patience is growing thin.”

“Yes, well I don’t blame him,” Reanden growled quietly. “That moron has got the worst timing.”

“Yes. Any timing.”

“Ha! I knew you had a sense of humour in there.”

“My master is training me well—” Xalek looked sharply at the door as Xaja raised her head slightly, sensing a burst of frustration. “And another lesson.”

“And what lesson is that today?” Reanden asked. “How to diplomatically tell someone where to go and how to get there, and what they can do with a rusty hydrospanner and an angry kath hound on the way?” Xaja could feel Theron and Doc both wincing behind her.

“That was last week.” Xalek looked back at the spy, then at the door again. “Today it may be how to verbally skin someone alive.”

“… I’ve never wished for Minister Beniko to be around as I do right now.”

Xalek didn’t get a chance to respond, as the door slid open with perhaps a bit more emphasis than was strictly necessary. A golden-armoured figure stormed out of the inner chamber, radiating fury. Xaja sensed Theron tensing behind her as he recognized the Zakuulan armour. “You will reconsider this, Imperius!”

“They are Republic assets, not Imperial. What interest should I have in this?” Xaja nearly cried when she heard her baby brother’s voice. He’d definitely embraced the Sith persona, his voice low and arrogant and all but dripping in anger. Darth Imperius had come into his own. “This is Zakuul’s mess, Exarch. Surely you can sort out your own problems with the Republic. Three people can’t be that difficult to find.”

“The terrorist and the assassin, and their accomplice on Rishi, have vanished. You must deploy your agents to find them!”

“It’s hardly my fault if your agents are so inept as to lose three people, one of them a bloody Jedi. You still can’t have any of mine.”

“Your insolence is noted!”

“As is your idiocy. Do you honestly think that I am going to divert Imperial resources to hunting three of your problems?” Imperius rolled his eyes as the Exarch opened her mouth. “If my agents happen to come across anything, I will inform you with all due haste. But I am not retasking my people to fix your damn problem.”

The Exarch stayed quiet, breathing through clenched teeth. “Izax damn you,” she finally hissed. “Fine. We will be waiting for your intelligence reports. If your agents are half as good as you claim, they will find something useful soon.”

“Of course,” Imperius said through gritted teeth. His molten eyes glanced over at Reanden, then at his escorting company. Xaja didn’t feel any sudden jolt of recognition from her brother, even when his brief mental probe touched her mind with a soft brush. “If the Jedi and her accomplices are foolish enough to show up in Imperial space, on my bloody doorstep even, I’ll deliver the news to you myself. But might I add they are Republic assets, all of whom seem to have enough survival instincts to avoid my people’s territory.”

“I am aware they are not Imperial,” growled the Exarch as she turned to stalk out of the room. “Consider this, Imperius: if they can attack my people like this, what’s to stop them from going after yours? Are they still not your problem?”

“If your Emperor wants them that badly, he’ll find them before they’re a threat to my people.” Imperius smirked coldly. “And my people can defend themselves against a mere terrorist. Are yours so weak?”

“You play a dangerous game, Sith. I will be waiting.” The Exarch finally stormed out and shut the door emphatically behind her. For a few seconds, nobody moved or spoke.

Reanden finally shook his head and sighed. “I’m so glad she was too mad to remember what my job is. Good job not actually frying her, kid.” Xaja glanced sharply at Xalek as the Kaleesh relaxed against the wall. Right, her brother’s apprentice had already known about her after Ziost -- it was only reasonable that he would know about his master’s father by now.

“Mum’s influence is still lurking, all those years later,” Imperius said as he seemed to deflate with relief. The voice changed — this was Sorand Taerich talking now. “This isn’t… it can’t actually be… Xaja?”

It was clearly safe now. And Sorand had recognized her Force-signature after all. Xaja pushed her hood back and watched her brother’s eyes bulge, amber fading to dark brown like their father’s… then his mouth turned upward in a delighted smile, and a second later she was being hugged tightly enough to be lifted off her feet by her much-taller sibling. “Oh, kriffing hell, you Jedi pain in the ass, I thought you were dead! And you come back by pissing off Zakuul?!”

“You should know I don’t do anything without causing a commotion! I wasn’t about to leave you alone in the galaxy without me to pester you, little brother.” Xaja laughed as she clung to her brother’s shoulders, so grateful to have at least one of her siblings alive and well. She glanced over when she heard the sounds of Theron and Doc removing their helmets and felt Sorand’s Force-presence stutter in surprise. “Uhh… this isn’t going to be a problem, is it…?”

Sorand looked back and forth between the fugitives for a second, then grinned and shook his head. “Not in the least. Oh, the Exarch is going to be livid if she realizes you’re under her nose like this and I conveniently forget to tell her… Xalek?”

“I have seen nothing, Master. The Intelligence Commander merely had a new report for you. The fugitives were never in Imperial Space.” The Kaleesh almost sounded innocent.

“Excellent, apprentice.” Sorand looked back over at his father. “Uhh, what is their cover story here, Dad? I figure Theron and… Doctor Kimble, wasn’t it?… are nameless soldiers in here…”

“Oh, yes. This is your new apprentice, son. She’s a psychopath that may or may not have been affiliated with the Red Hulls — y’know, cannibal and all. Probably crazy enough to scare even your uncle if he’d ever met her.”

“A cannibal? Really?” Sorand sighed, then looked at Xaja. “Did Dad actually call you a cannibal psychopath to give you a cover here?”

Xaja just gave her little brother the same grin she’d shot at Lorman. “Rawr. I ate the competition on Korriban. Or something. Fear me.”

“… I’m having flashbacks to Rishi.” Sorand groaned and looked up at the ceiling. “Dad’s created a monster.”

“My finest work yet.” Reanden leaned against the wall for a moment and smirked. “Lorman’s scared shitless of her.”

Sorand burst out laughing, the sound lighter and easier than one might have expected of one of the Dark Council. “Please tell me you got holos, Dad. I want details!”

“I’ll tell you the full story. But you might want to sit down — we’re going to be here a while, son.” Reanden started walking back into the inner sanctum, sobering. “And for obvious reasons, this is top security.”

“Of course. Shall I summon Talos so we don’t have to explain this multiple times? I believe Mako’s around while Shara’s in a meeting in the Enclave.”

“Mako’s here? Excellent, get her in here — we could use a genius little slicer like her. If you trust Talos to stay silent, we’ll brief him too. Shara obviously will need to know about this — any idea when she’ll be out of that meeting?”

“She’s busy kicking the collective asses of one of the hunters’ guilds, so Force only knows how long that will take…”

Xaja did try to focus on the conversation between her dad and her brother, right up until the point that the headache resurged in her head, painfully enough to make her wince. She didn’t even have to be moving for her balance to suddenly give out, and if Sorand hadn’t still been hugging her, she likely would have wound up in a heap on the floor. As it was, the young Sith squawked in alarm as she sagged with a strangled moan. “The hell?!” he exclaimed. “What’s wrong? Just being on Dromund Kaas shouldn’t be hurting you like this, no matter how much of a Jedi you are!”

Xaja wanted to answer, but couldn’t seem to focus enough on coordinating her mouth and lungs and vocal cords all at once to speak — it was enough effort to not completely collapse, even with Sorand practically holding her up until Theron had lunged forward to grab her by the waist and her father came running back. She could only count herself very, very fortunate that the stims hadn’t worn off sooner.

“And that’s a big part of why we’re here and not hiding on Tatooine or Hoth,” Theron finally said as Sorand looked up at him while Lokin hurried around them to get to Xaja’s side, syringes of drugs already coming out of his satchel. “She’s been carbonite poisoned by the Zaks, and it’s bad.”

Sorand’s eyes widened in shock — Xaja felt dismay and fear pulse off of him for a second. He apparently already knew what that meant. “... Shit.”