9.110 - False Flag

[Darth Decepis]

A message was sent on a pre-arranged comm frequency to Zenas Codrey. The message itself carried nothing but coordinates, both for the galactic grid, and then for a landing zone on a planet. Nothing else was included in the message, but if the Togruta was inclined to look closer, the coordinates were to a planet called Ziost. If he was at all true to his nature, he would understand the meaning in this location.

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas stood silently in the darkened cockpit of his JM-5K, studying the coordinates and galaxy map of his navicomputer's hologram. Ziost...it was a planet he was briefly acquainted with through his training. His master had named it a planet of darkness, a possible origin of the Sith infection on the galaxy. Zenas had thought it a rich statement. Milek Tomberlin had fallen so far from the light that he had no hope of reclaiming it. He'd trained Zenas in darkness, as well, but the young Togruta had managed to avoid his master's hypocrisy towards the dark side. The last time he had seen Ziost, it'd been from far orbit as he and his master travelled the Outer Rim to hide from Force-hunting Imperials. Within hours, he would land on its surface for the first time.

Zenas strode with purpose down the JM-5K's boarding ramp, his lightsaber in hand, prepared for anything. He breathed deep the moist, clean air, feeling the cold seep into his lungs. Before him stood a grand palace, long abandoned and weather-beaten. Frost clung to its every surface hanging from verandas and sheeting over windows, occluding the interior. Zenas, craving action, ran to the door and thrust his fist at it. Fire and telekinetic energy punched open the frozen doors and Zenas prowled into the atrium like a jungle cat. A simple thought slammed the door and shut out the cold. In the silence that remained, Zenas focused his senses and sought his summoner.

[Darth Decepis]

The light from the high windows above cast long and harsh shadows of the barren interior of this ancient palace. Zenas's entrance was met with mocking silence. Then he heard footfalls.

Down a long hallway, someone approached. They walked with a feeble, close-footed gait, at a pace that was agonizingly slow. Enough light from the windows entered the aperture to allow Zenas's eyes to percieve, now that he was comfortable with the level of darkness in this place. A frail, stoop-shouldered figure approached in a black robe, and a cowl that hung low enough so to obscure nearly his entire face.

"You strike without reason or thought. Perhaps calling you to this place was a mistake. Am I mistaken?"

[Zenas Codrey]

"No."

Zenas's answer was short and harsh. He gave no further account of himself. "Am I mistaken in answering your summons? I come to this place seeking power, and find only an ancient and feeble man. What strength is to be gained from this meeting?" The Togruta did not posture; it was not his way to make threats to people who he could kill without consequence.

[Darth Decepis]

A philosophical question the Sith Lord enjoyed. His mouth visible beneath the cowl began to smile.

"If you believe yourself ready, then strike me down, of course. The strong mustn't suffer the weak."

[Zenas Codrey]

"Too true." The words, the smile...he could see that it was bait. His Master had baited him out into foolish action many times during his training, and Zenas had never quite learned his lesson. Sometimes, he did right and ignored it, other times, he acted rashly anyway, but more often, he calculated the risk and sprung the trap just to see what it was that was going to happen, and calculate his own growing strength by attempting to defeat it. Zenas's thumb moved to his lightsaber's trigger plate. "Then why reveal yourself, old cripple? If you want to die, wander out into the wastes and let your rotting corpse freeze." Gods, but the thought of slaying the elder tempted him.

[Darth Decepis]

The smile dropped, replaced by a frown aided as much by baleful countenance as it was by gravity.

"I have use of you to fulfill my own ends. In exchange, I offer you power. Power enough for you to destroy my apprentice and replace her."

The Dark Lord of the Sith studied Zenas's reaction, and continued.

"She has begun to falter and hesitate, and these are traits I find distateful. Prove your better worth to me."

[Zenas Codrey]

"Easily," Zenas replied without a hint of boastfulness, though he couldn't stop his lip curling in disgust. "What would you have of me? Shall I slay her in your place?" The Togruta's left foot shifted forward and his arms spread wider by a hair's breadth, turning his posture aggressive. "When your enemies meet death, it is my face that shall greet them."

[Darth Decepis]

"You're not yet strong enough. Bury that intent deeply, acolyte. If she senses your intent, she will not hesitate to destroy you. But in time, in time."

From the depths of his robe, he pulled out a lightsaber, extending it for Zenas to take.

"Your eagerness is useful. You will be my instrument of discord. Take this."

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas took the weapon in his other hand, testing its heft against his own. It was smaller, narrower...a precision instrument. His own hilt was built sturdier, slightly longer than normal, with a ridged grip to aid him in making Djem So's power strikes. "The blade in my right hand favors my fighting style more readily than this...oversized datapad stylus," sneered the non-human disdainfully. He turned the new saber over in his hands, noticing the damage on the bottom end. "What purpose does this broken lightsaber serve?"

[Darth Decepis]

"It's purpose lies in the murder of those who have misplaced their trust."

His response was cryptic, and Decepis continued.

"The Alliance to Restore the Republic has taken steps to give the refugee Jedi Order safe harbor. Make them question this decision."

[Zenas Codrey]

So, the plan was to kill Jedi and Rebels. "Then...this lightsaber is to be what humans call a red herring. A false lead to make them believe a Jedi is killing his so-called allies." Zenas hid the decoy saber away in his clothing. "Is there a specified target, or shall I tally the mountain of the dead and report to you their number?" The question was begun with a smirk that grew to a smile of relish, full of sharp Togrutan fangs and malice to match.

[Darth Decepis]

Decepis gave a flippant wave of his hand.

"I'll leave the details to you, only to point you in the direction of Bothawui. It's the base of Alliance Intelligence. I'd like them to get a good look at their enemy. Keep your actions public and brutal. Kill who you can."

[Zenas Codrey]

Oh, yes. This was going to be profitable alliance. Zenas bowed in respect.

"Strength, or death," he swore as a good-bye, straightening and walking back out through the brisk cold to his JM-5K. He boarded, punched in his coordinates, then retired to his spare quarters to prepare.

Days later, he emerged into real space with Bothawui hanging like a pristine jewel in space before him. It looked peaceful. Zenas scowled at it out his front viewport, slashing his hand across it as he hit the throttle. If he could scar a planet he would, someday.

[Darth Acera]

There was a safehouse, far enough away from Drev'starn to be unassuming yet close enough to be somewhat accessible to the rest of Bothawui's capital. Some would say that the surrounding area was a slum, while others would simply call it one of the more unfortunate parts of the outlier suburbs. No real violence, yet those that called this small district 'home' knew better than to disturb their neighbors. It was simply a point of principle to keep away from the things that went quietly by. Those here had learned many times over that despite the 'Bothan Way', preserving their own lives was often the better deal to be had.

So it was with the safe house - those who knew of it said little to nothing of the possible goings on that happened behind those closed doors. None were ever seen entering, and none were ever seen leaving. It simply existed as a single unit nestled among other single units in a sea of repetitive architecture and lost in a maze of complete sameness.

And yet despite it all, a single occupant sat waiting in the sparsely furnished interior. Settled in the depths of a chair whose upholstery had certainly seen better days, Darth Acera waited for the one that her Master had said was to meet her.

She waited patiently. He would come. He would come, and she would consequently send him on his way.

Arms resting on each armrest, she held her sabre hilt in a loose grip as her eyes - one a muddled grey and the other a haunting yellow - stared ahead.

He would come.

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas landed his JM-5K under cover of darkness, coming in far from the cities and using terrain-following flying to evade sensors until he was close enough to land. From there he proceeded on foot, sneaking to the safehouse where his contact was to meet him. He stepped in silently, the door opening and shutting without sound, and met the mis-matched eyes of Darth Acera. He could guess her relationship to the withered lich he'd met on Ziost by her lightsaber hilt and quiet, fierce darkness that filled her with energy like a furnace. They took each other's measure with a quick, sharp flick of eyes. It was all the greeting they exchanged.

[Darth Acera]

So this was the one that had been sent to her.

Acera let one corner of her mouth twitch upwards in the barest showing of a ghostly, unimpressed sneer.

"He sends to me a child, then."

The fingers of her free hand curled inward ever so slowly, fingernails raking lightly across the fabric of the armrest.

"I can still smell your mother's milk upon your breath. Go home, boy."

[Zenas Codrey]

Zenas laughed, long and loud, a genuine sound that he hadn't produced in years. When had he last saw his mother? 18 years ago, at least. Maybe longer. The idea that any of her qualities remained in him was one he found truly amusing. His mother would be horrified to see what he'd become, to hear the tales of his atrocities and see his powers used before her. Later, looking back on this moment, he'd find himself conflicted about how that revelation affected him. Here, in the present, he was feeling good about this new alliance as well.

"Oh, I see! A firebrand all the way through!" he finally said. "It's an appreciable quality in you. I understand why that crumbling elder chose you. So, then, my new ally, what aid are you to give me on his behalf?"

[Darth Acera]

"I am not your ally."

Her voice was low and level, with scratching undertones of contempt.

"And what sort of aide do you think that you need, other than what my Master has provided."

Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her saber, the leather of her fingerless gloves creaking.

[Zenas Codrey]

The Togruta smirked. Very well, then.

"Fine, if such is your attitude, I'll not waste your time. I can accomplish the Lord's task with or without you. Though, if you do not play the role he has defined for you, I wonder what your fate will be..." He shook his head and turned to leave.