Chapter Text
It was understood that of all of intelligence, Cipher N was Darth Umbral's favorite, much like Cipher Nine had been Darth Jadus'. Of course, his relationship with Umbral was infinitely more pleasant than what Nine had dealt with.
Nine was a cautionary tale, as much as an inspiring one.
He'd been called to represent Intelligence for a meeting between the Darth, a pair of upstart Lords, and Darth Imperius, a star studded cast as they said in the holovids. And it was fortunate he had, sheer luck but something deeply desired, because unless he had completely misread his lover two nights ago, he'd been coming down with something and by now he would be in the thick of it. Oh, he looked fine, sure, but that was his Sith magic (and it was magic no matter Umbral's irritated explanations to the contrary) hiding his appearance. No flush of illness dusted his cheeks, no fatigue darkened his eyes, no reddened flush clung to his nostrils. He looked fine.
But Wolf knew better.
Umbral was sick. He was not sick to the point of compromising his abilities or cognition, but he was sick. Some kind of relatively mild cold. He was tired, a little cold, had the first twinges of a threatening headache, and insult to injury he'd been sneezing all morning, well beyond the first photic double when he woke.
And of course he never could sneeze just the once. It was always multiples with this sort of embedded irritation. If he'd had his way, he would not have left the comforts of his apartment. If he'd had his way, Cipher N would not be standing off to the side near the foot of the table, but would be beside him. The man was a furnace and... well. Comforting. Silly thing for a Sith to say, perhaps, but behind the title he was only a man.
There was no spot at the 'head' of the table, but he and Imperius angled equally at the sides - a gracious gesture, as the Dark Council Member most definitely outranked him even if she was backing him up instead of holding the meeting herself.
There were benefits to having history with the higher ups.
He wished very much he'd worn one of his helmets at the moment. The Cipher was summarizing the matter as it had been reported to Intelligence, and as it was nothing Umbral was not already aware of in detail, his mind drifted. He took stock of the room, of the two Lords - one fittingly pale, the other foolishly defiant - of Imperius, who looked unimpressed and disdainful - and of his Cipher, ever polished and professional.
And himself, an immediate distraction when he picked up on the sharp little irritation niggling deeper in his passages, where there was no chance of rubbing it out. He applied the smallest touch of Force Healing - proper Force Healing, as he'd learned from one of the Jedi-Turned-Sith - that soothed the bit of irritation before it could blossom into a need to sneeze.
"I see three matters of recourse here," Imperius said. "Break up the cults and exile them. Take their titles and let them live in shame. Or, perhaps force them to serve an appropriate Darth to learn their place." She paused, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Or you could kill them here and be rid of the whole mess, they really don't seem like much of a loss."
Now they were both pale, seeming to understand at last what it meant to step above your station. Good.
"I'm inclined to force them into a position of submission and humility," Umbral said, and the very deepness of his own voice rumbled through his head, through his sinuses, sparking a stronger reaction. Healing energy was quickly applied, with such care that he didn't get so much as a raised brow from Imperius.
Certainly, if she noticed she had no inclination to say so. “I can see the benefit to that. Pity Grathan’s no longer around.”
That credit fell to the Emperor’s Wrath, but he hadn’t hit so soon that Umbral was unfamiliar. His lip curled. “I’m not that offended.”
“I’m not offended at all, but some things shouldn’t be done,” she said.
Umbral met her violet gaze. “Traditionalism?” From you?
“Common sense,” she drawled. “You could also drop them to attendants, I suppose.”
Umbral took a slow breath that shivered at the end, barely hiding the little catch of breath for what it was. While he’d been talking, that niggling tickle had returned with company. Against his will, his nose twitched faintly. He did his best to put a stamp on it, but the feeling had advanced beyond an easy fix and if he used much more power Imperius would notice. He couldn’t abide such things. It would wait. It had to.
As if in explicit defiance, his breath caught — quietly, by the Force, he strangled it down to that — but he turned it into speaking at once to try and distract from it. “Common sense isn’t nearly so common. Regardless of one’s perspective on how, rules h’have been broken, and there will be consequences.”
Force take it, forget the mundane tickling it itched intently like a burning brand in his sinuses. The persistent itching was driving him to the single reaction he had forbidden himself. Perhaps, were his body so gracious as to grant him a single sneeze in response, he’d have given in. Even two, were it inclined to give him tangible relief. But he knew better. This wouldn’t be appeased in a single sneeze, and he might not find relief at all. At best, it would be temporarily sated.
His eyes felt heavy. The urge to close them was intense, demanding. Another step towards a sharp, unforgivable loss of control.
He would not.
It had taken a bare breath of space for him to work through the insidious agitation, but it felt like no small eternity. Imperius was looking speculatively at the Lords who were looking at the table. Which meant the eyes he felt on him were blue, and likely sympathetic, knowing, yet all of that hidden by impeccable professional stoicism.
Umbral was grateful; if he caught Wolf staring at him he may well have let something slip. Force help him, he was growing sentimental and he didn’t care nearly as much as he should. In fact, any care at all went right out the window when he tuned back into the moment to feel a dreadfully familiar ripple of energy as Imperius let Force lightning crackle in her hand. It was also circling like a snake down her arm, which rested on the table. The power didn’t continue further, not quite, but there was a heavy static charge in the air.
Deep breath.
This wasn’t much, he’d done so much worse to no effect why—
Hold it.
He pressed his tongue hard to the roof of his mouth, breath held against the rising impulse. The need.
Do not, no not, there’s not that much time before—
He was being touched. Damned Imperius had trailed a finger gleaming with Force Energy along the strong line of his jaw with a knowing smile. “Something to say, Darth Umbral?”
He didn’t have a chance to think, to bargain, to beg, just an abysmal attempt to stifle — “H’nnXSHIIH!” — and it wouldn’t be one.
She seemed somewhat surprised at the strength of the response, sitting up straight in her chair. “Goodness, my mistake.”
Umbral turned away from the table, procuring a handkerchief from the inner folds of his robe, and scrabbled for what scraps of control he could salvage. He couldn’t make a scene. He could not be seen as vulnerable. He… he couldn’t breathe for the tickling, crushing a gloved fist against his nose when his breath hitched.
A sudden ripple in the Force immediately rousing a primal sense of danger made his hitching breaths stutter as deeply ingrained reflexes snapped him to awareness, audio filtering him just in time to hear Imperius’ lighter voice drop ominously low. “We are discussing whether or not you live, I think you might want to take this a little more seriously.”
Temporarily startled out of the haze of need, he dared a single sniff, a cautious brush at his nose, and turned back around. “Did someone find that entertaining?”
One thing he would say, though for sheer rank Imperius — a Dark Councilor — outranked him greatly, in this moment he was more reflexively intimidating. His already deep voice was deeper, darker, with this blasted cold, like thunder warning of an oncoming storm. He was also taller by a foot, and twice as broad. They had every reason to be scared.
And it was just their luck that the situation had linked up with his condition to where he was very much irritated with everything. “Find an Overseer for them to answer to.”
“That’s hardly compatible with a Sith Lord’s rights,” Imperius said, smiling. She was well aware what he’d meant; it was all performance.
Very well. “Then I guess they don’t get to be Sith Lords anymore.”
“I’m satisfied,” she said. “Agent, if you would see that Darth Umbral has what he needs to settle this? I understand you’re remarkably familiar with how the Order works.”
“Only what I have been graciously instructed in, your lordship,” he said mildly, every inch the proper Cipher Agent.
She waved dismissively. “If you don’t mind, Darth Umbral, I do so enjoy having the last word.”
He made a little sound of amusement. “You always have. Comm me with any last minute details.”
“Mmm.” She considered it. “Isn’t there a posting in Taris, now?”
His smile was perhaps too sharp. “I was thinking Korriban, at the academy.”
“A higher honor than they deserve,” she said. “But I think it can be made to work. I’ll contact you later.”
He nodded and rose from the table, sweeping out without another word. He felt more than heard Wolf fall in step, though a glance said it was the more appropriate two steps behind. “We’re going to the office.”
“At your apartment.” It was supposed to be a question, surely, but it most certainly did not sound like one.
Umbral paused to glare at the elevator that would lead from the conference room Imperius had chosen for them to the same level as the speeders. He was hardly claustrophobic but now was a spectacularly bad time to be in an enclosed space.
Cipher N stepped forward to get the doors — and it was N, he hadn’t let go of that professional persona yet, and wouldn’t until… well, probably not until Umbral relaxed as well. Damn it all.
Was there harm in giving in to that single small not-quite-request?
“I suppose this can be taken care of at my personal office, yes,” he agreed, watching covertly as some of the tension leached from the Cipher’s frame. Just for that small allowance.
Umbral smiled.