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A few party-goers in the Nexus Room looked up from their drinks as a new patron entered, a hood over his face. Some tried unsuccessfully to peer at him a bit closer from their positions around the room. A new face in town, perhaps? An up-and-coming Sith? Someone’s dirty little secret? A threat? Not recognizing him as anyone important, they turned their attentions to their beverages and company. The new patron gravitated towards a vacant, shadowed booth in the corner and sat without anyone caring if he was there at all. Unlike the cunning socialites of Dromund Kaas, constantly on the lookout for one another, this was exactly what the stranger wanted.
“Cipher Nine, we have verified your location on the security cameras,” A voice told him through the discreet comm implant in his ear. “Are you certain you will not require backup?”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Vector, but I can handle this alone,” Cipher Nine replied quietly.
“Very well,” Vector stated. “You have five minutes before the target is scheduled to arrive.”
“Understood. I’ll contact you when the mission is complete.”
“Good luck.” The comm uplink disconnected. Cipher Nine leaned back in his seat a little.
Five minutes.
It was always interesting being back in the Imperial capital. Nowhere else in the galaxy had its particular flavor of darkness and danger, cleverly disguised behind a veil of civilization. And no one was positioned to enjoy it quite as perfectly as he was, the clandestine guardian of the galaxy’s greatest secrets, standing behind that veil, always in the shadows. A smile touched his face beneath his dark hood.
Four minutes.
The babble of conversation mingled with the slow, slightly sinister music played by the band onstage. Cipher Nine tactically surveyed the darkened room and the people within it. He recognized all of them: The minor Sith lord who moonlighted as an exotic dancer, the proprietor who was having an affair with the wife of a Dark Council member, the slave girl serving drinks who secretly worked for the former Imperial Intelligence…none of them were his concern at the moment.
Three minutes.
A fight broke out near the bar between a no-name bounty hunter and a no-name Sith apprentice. The surrounding customers stepped out of the way disinterestedly, not interfering. The band continued to play, even when the Sith drew his lightsaber and decapitated the bounty hunter. The head rolled across the floor, coming to a stop under a nearby table. The Sith sitting there casually kicked it out of the way without so much as crinkling her nose.
Two minutes.
According to his files, his target showed up at the Nexus Room at the same time every night. Such predictability either bespoke incredible self-confidence or utter stupidity. He could easily deal with either. All that mattered was that he obtained what he wanted.
One minute.
A pair of slaves quietly disposed of the dead body near the bar. A third grimaced as he picked up the severed head, holding it at arm’s length as he carried it away. He must be new here, Cipher Nine thought.
Ten seconds.
Cipher Nine’s gaze flicked to the door expectantly.
Three…two…one.
Someone interesting arrived…someone worth noticing. Murmurs swept through the crowd, whispers of recognition and discreetly pointed fingers. Even the band faltered a little.
She looked much the same as the holoimage he had on file, if clearly much shorter than his records suggested. A small discrepancy. Despite her smaller stature, she stood in the entryway as though she towered over everyone in the cantina. Such swagger was common amongst the Sith, and yet he appreciated the way she occupied the space, somewhat brazenly allowing everyone to get a good look at her. Short, dark hair framed a pale face decorated with symmetrical red tattoos. Her eyes were molten yellow, inviting as they were dangerous.
He mentally reviewed her file as she strode into the room. Sole heiress to an older Sith bloodline…not too notable, but not too obscure that her being rushed to Korriban went unnoticed. She was apprenticed to a powerful Sith and had accomplished a great deal in his service already. She was admittedly impressive…for a Sith.
The newcomer’s gaze hovered over him for only an instant as she passed by, but it sent a pleasurable chill through him. His smile lingered as he watched her advance to a seat at the bar as though it were her prey. She was immediately served a deep, red cocktail with a bit of fruit on the rim of the glass.
Cipher Nine got up from his solitary booth and began to weave through the babbling crowd. Any communication with Sith required a degree of caution. His records contained little information on her character, noting above all else a tendency for ruthless efficiency. This Sith would undoubtedly be as cruel and arrogant as the rest of them. Dealing with her would not be a problem.
More importantly, he needed something from her. The mission always had to come first.
He pulled his hood back as he drew closer, positioning himself beside his target at the bar. Up close he detected the scent of perfume masking the dense, metallic smell of blood. Her dark red armor was scored and mended several times over. The elegant lightsaber at her hip, by contrast, was in pristine condition. She took better care of her weapon than her armor. Interesting.
“What’ll it be?” The bartender asked. He seemed reluctant to draw too close to the Sith, meeting Cipher Nine’s gaze from a few feet away.
Cipher Nine tilted his head towards the Sith without looking at her. “I’ll have what she’s having.” The bartender nodded and turned away. The Sith, meanwhile, glanced sidelong at him. He had her attention. He affixed his most charming smile and leveled it at her full force. “Lord Kalixei.”
She turned and looked him over. He watched as her gaze quickly traveled over his face, his neatly styled white-blond hair, the scar that bisected his right eye…it lingered slightly longer on his chest and shoulders. An appreciative smile tilted the corner of her mouth. She liked what she saw. A good start.
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage...whoever you are.” Her voice was deep and melodic.
“I thought everyone on the planet had heard of Darth Baras’s top enforcer by now,” Cipher Nine smiled, deliberately sidestepping the real question of his identity.
“Clearly you know me better than that if you’re appealing to my vanity.” Lord Kalixei smiled. “Do continue.”
She was in a good mood. That boded well. Cipher Nine seated himself as the bartender returned with his beverage. “News of your exploits have been making the rounds in many Imperial circles.” He paused strategically. “I was particularly intrigued by your handling of Lord Rathari.”
Lord Kalixei’s smile froze. He could practically see her mind spinning as she prepared to reassess him. She had been ordered to kill Rathari. She instead secretly recruited him. She did the same thing as an apprentice on Korriban when ordered to kill her overseer. She had a bit of a sneaky side, which in his line of work he appreciated. He studied her face carefully. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but not dangerously. She was probably thinking “He couldn’t possibly know…could he?”
Of course he knew. And he was curious what she would do next. Attack? Possibly. Deflect? Probably. There was also a slim chance she’d play his game, but he didn’t hold out much hope.
“What exactly intrigues you?” She asked, her veneer of calm returning.
Cipher Nine smiled. She’d play the game after all. Perhaps…just perhaps…he’d misjudged her. “He was a powerful man. Subduing him could not have been easy.”
“I enjoy a challenge,” Lord Kalixei said.
“Sometimes challenges involve taking a risk.”
“It wouldn’t be a challenge otherwise.”
He took a sip of his cocktail. It was slightly bitter and slightly sweet. “A friend of mine saw the strangest thing on Tatooine just two days ago,” he said, conversationally. “A man matching Lord Rathari’s description cleaning out a safe house deep in the desert.”
Lord Kalixei shrugged. “Your friend seems unusually attentive to the activities of supposedly dead men.”
“My friend is a bit of a ghost themselves.” Cipher Nine smiled.
“I’m more interested in you.” Lord Kalixei leaned a little closer. “I don’t think I caught your name earlier.”
He was used to brushing this question off. He kept his gaze firmly on hers, controlling every muscle in his body to display nothing but casual interest. “I’m just a friend who needs a small favor.”
Her eyes glowed a little more intensely for a moment. “In exchange for your silence, I take it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cipher Nine said. “Lord Rathari is dead. Surely there’s nothing to warrant blackmail.”
The muscles in her jaw tensed, then relaxed. She turned back to the bar with a small sniff. “Then I see no need to agree to any favors.”
Cipher Nine repressed the urge to laugh but was unsure whether it was because of her attempts to outmaneuver him, or because she hadn’t managed to do so.
“I suppose not,” Cipher Nine said. “But that does leave me with coordinates to that safehouse I mentioned. I would assume anyone trying to cover their tracks would have a vested interest in seeing it destroyed. After all…” He took another sip of his drink, letting the pause stretch a little uncomfortably. “It would be a shame if Darth Baras got ahold of those coordinates instead.”
“Perhaps he’d simply dispatch his enforcer to investigate it on his behalf,” Lord Kalixei said, absently picking a piece of fruit off the rim of her glass and popping it into her mouth. “And maybe that clumsy enforcer trips some kind of self-destruct mechanism inside, resulting in the complete destruction of the safehouse.”
This time Cipher Nine did laugh. “You do enjoy taking risks, don’t you?”
“My life would be dreadfully dull otherwise,” Lord Kalixei took a deep gulp of her drink and set it down. It was nearly empty. When she turned to face him again her gaze was direct and challenging. It sent a slight shiver up his spine that was not altogether unpleasant. “So, are you blackmailing me, or what?”
“Wait.” Cipher Nine frowned. “You want me to blackmail you?”
Lord Kalixei’s smile melted into a devilish grin. “Do it. It’ll give me a reason to hunt you down.”
“We just met. You’re that eager to see me again?” Cipher Nine asked, raising one eyebrow.
“I have a thing for attractive Imperial men.”
“Attractive, eh?” Now she was appealing to his ego. Very clever. Also…strangely effective. “Well, I suppose I can’t argue with your taste, Lord Kalixei.”
“Just ‘Kalixei’ is fine.” Her yellow eyes were twinkling at him. There was something maddeningly attractive about the way she confidently held his gaze.
“Very well…” he couldn’t resist leaning a little closer, noticing her breath catch. “Kalixei.”
Once again, she recovered quickly. He wondered what it would take to truly shake that confidence of hers.
“You said something about a favor?”
“A small one,” Cipher Nine said. “I caught wind of an assault you’re planning on a certain stronghold, right here on Dromund Kaas. I was just wondering if you would be so kind as to open the southeast gate while you’re in there.”
With the southeast gate open, Cipher Nine would have a clear shot at his real target, an SIS agent cleverly disguised as a Moff. The Sith rampaging inside would cover his assassination nicely…but Kalixei didn’t need to know that.
“You want me to open a gate?” This time Kalixei raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
She laughed but didn’t press him. Apparently, she had more urgent matters on her mind. “You’re still blackmailing me, right?”
It didn’t happen often, but Cipher Nine grinned. “Only with the understanding that you’ll be hunting me down.”
“Then we have an arrangement.” Kalixei downed the last of her drink and got to her feet. “It’s been nice making your acquaintance…”
She wanted a name. Something that would set her on the path to tracking him as she had promised. Normally he would give her one of his many aliases, all dead ends, smoke and mirrors. He considered it. Maybe the strange thud in his chest was simple curiosity. Could she hunt him down as she promised? Would she?
“Cipher Nine.” It was as close as he ever came to giving someone his real name.
He waited for a sign of recognition, maybe even surprise. Kalixei just smiled pleasantly as she took another step closer and brushed her fingers against his chest.
“I’ll be seeing you again, Cipher Nine.”
“We’ll see.”
He watched her depart, halfway hoping she would look back over her shoulder at him. She waited until she was back in the doorway. Then she turned, met his gaze across the cantina…and winked.
The Nexus Room only seemed to come back into focus when she disappeared fully around the corner and out of sight. He cleared his throat, as though that could fully dispel the lingering electric hum in his veins. Realizing he was staring somewhat stupidly at the door, he turned back to the bar.
He lingered idly. It wouldn’t do if Kalixei were to think he was following her too closely. He allowed a few minutes to pass as he gazed at the remains of his red cocktail.
There was something about her…
Cipher Nine shook his head. She would wind up another fling, perhaps. Nothing more. He got up from his seat, placing some money on the bar before turning to leave.
“Vector?” He said into his comm. “I am returning to the ship.”
“We take it the mission was a success, then?”
Cipher Nine didn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on the spot where Kalixei disappeared. He shook his head slightly, but even that didn’t fully clear it. He laughed softly. It felt a bit forced.
“Was there ever any doubt?”