The alliance had been solidified long before the Twi’lek had even stepped foot in the Shadow Academy. As the newest leader in Shadow Gate, K’tana been contacted by Nadrin to take his stead while he was away on business. Their contact had been brief and to the point. Her mission was to show up, nod her head, say a few words to keep the peace and leave the next morning. It was simple and Marick ‘s help she was comfortable in the role she was to play.
The strong scent of a man’s cologne hit K’tana’s nostrils as she tossed her blackened lekku over her shoulders. The shadowing paint was dry against her fingers when she pulled her hood over her head, black leather wraps tying the appendages close to her head. There was a slight discomfort as she pulled her headtails under her arms and into her bra that helped flatten her chest. With a smirk, she made sure they could not be noticed under the large robe as she curled the ends up so to sit in the bottom of the cup.
From behind her there was a rustling of fabric as Marick handed her a pair of gloves. Her green eyes shone out from behind the skin which she had painted to help her hide inside the large cloak. She slipped the gloves over her violet fingers, then pulled the black sleeves over them.
Next the Priestess, having covered the gloves, was handed a mask by the Consul Emeritus. The visage Marick held out wore a stark-white snarl that had been carved into the Deathmask’s design and it replaced K’tana’s sly smirk as she pulled it on.
“Does it work?” The Twi’lek’s mezzo-soprano voice rang hollow behind the clenched teeth of the mask as she looked up to Marick’s blue eyes. He silently moved to her side and pressed his thumb under the mask’s chin. Something clicked and the Hapan nodded at K’tana.
“Try it now.”
“My name is Marick and I am a sis-” She cut herself off laughing at the sound of her now manly baritone.
“Good. It works well.” Marick nodded, ignoring her attempt to mock him as he straightened the mask over the Twi’lek’s face and made sure it sat level. “Is your vision impaired?”
The Priestess took a step back and shook her head. She was too worried to speak and lose her composure again so instead she said nothing. This was an important mission and she could not have the Shadicar revoke his offer to help with her disguise.
“Those boots, however impractical, work well to hide your true height.” His several extra inches made her feel small despite the three inch platforms she now wore beneath her floor length cloak. Marick had that way about him, always making her feel smaller then she would have been comfortable with. Behind the mask, K’tana glowered at the Hapan, her green eyes faded to a dark brown as she watched her mentor’s face. With a curt nod of his head, Marick took his leave.
In her new guise as Nadrin Erinos Arconae, the Priestess walked into the cockpit of her shuttle and gave the signal to the pilot. The Qel-Droman pilot nodded and began the take-off procedures.
“We land at the Bimmisaari Governor-General’s Estate in a matter of hours,” the Mandalorian co-pilot added before the Dark Jedi stalked back to their cabin. He never saw who entered the ship, only who exited the room and it really did not matter to him. All the Arconans who wore billowy cloaks were a source of apprehension to the mundane man.
|-o-|
K’tana - still guised as Nadrin - had doors opened for her as she walked to the arched pillars that stood over the entrance to the mansion. The large house tapered up into a sharp point several stories high but the robed figure paid no attention. She kept her head low, the hood falling just above her masked eyes as she was ushered inside the large doors.
“Greetings Lord Arconae! We welcome you into our home. We hope you find your stay here comfortable.” A very small man spoke quickly as he bowed his head to K’tana. Recognizing him as the Governor-General, the masked woman said nothing but instead returned the respectful bow with a slight tip of her head. Her presence was strictly a formality and a sign of respect from the most powerful Clan of the Brotherhood.
A sudden feeling of danger at the base of the Twi’lek’s headtails caused her to spin around towards the large doors as the raucous sound of gunfire echoed through the entrance hall. One doorman lay dead as they other slid down a side wall, blood smearing over the white paint as he fell.
“Death to the Brotherhood.” A man with thinning hair and dark eyes walked past the corpses and spoke softly as he leveled his weapon at the Priestess. She reacted lightning fast, spinning out of the way as the man pulled the trigger. With amplified reflexes, the robed figured was suddenly in front of would-be assassin, her finger jabbed against his temple.
Disarm
The telepathic command reverberated through the Human’s skull. His hands shook and the slugthrower rattled in his weakened grasp.
Disarm
The command came again and the man’s left nostril began to drip blood as he tried to fight the mental suggestion. He noticed it was a woman’s voice in his head and a woman’s slender fingers touching his temple. The would-be assassin’s vision blurred as her other hand came up, blue light flickering over her fingertips.
Drop the weapon
This was not a command. This was her asking nicely, perhaps even pleading. He tightened his grip and tried to pull the trigger. He squeezed his fingers, but instead of a shot, an azure bolt ripped into his vision, flashing the world around him to brightness. His world flickered from blue to white and then to black as unconsciousness washed over him.
|-o-|
“You’re bleeding. We must get that patched up.” The General pointed at K’tana’s arm and she saw that he was indeed correct. A carmine streak ran from her bullet-scraped bicep and down her arm, dropping steadily from her fingertips to the wooden floor. She shrugged it off, balled her hand into a fist inside her sleeve and nodded at the unconscious Human.
“I need him tied up. We must find out who his target was, who sent him and if you’re in danger.”
“He said ‘death to the Brotherhood’. I believe it’s safe to assume whom the target was.” The spiteful little man was in a foul mood and his defiant attitude was wearing away at the Gate Steward. K’tana had enough and held up a single finger; sparks ignited over the tip, giving the for the Bimmisaarian cause to step back.
“Call your guards and take him to my room before he wakes. Now.” She spoke in the modulated male voice and took a threatening step towards the cowering man. She held her sparking finger up to the man’s face, careful to not actually touch him. ”Do not think to question me again.”
The Governor swallowed his fear and backed into a small desk that lay in the hall. He pressed a button on his collar and four men in guard regalia came running down the corridor. They took in the scene and they immediately began drawing their weapons.
“Stop!” Their leader cried out, his hands waving frantically as he stepped in front of the Brotherhood delegate. “Take the body into the room we have prepared for His Excellency. Do it now! Before he wakes.”
The men exchanged quick glances, but their hands dropped from their weapons as they stooped to pick up the unconscious assassin.
K’tana tilted her head towards the governor and walked behind the small, struggling men. They heaved the larger corpse up a half dozen flight of stairs and into a large guest chamber. The room was entirely white causing the Priestess to stifle a laugh.
The large chamber held a massive bed, a desk and chairs and a large open window with a balcony. K’tana shook her head in disgust at the lavishness of the guest quarters, repulsed by the idea of what the Governor’s room must be like.
“Put him next to the desk and leave. I want two guards posted outside of this room at all times. No one is to enter.” She paused a moment, looking over her shoulder at the bright white bed curtains. “And I’m afraid you’re going to have need of a cleaner when I’m through with him.”
K’tana closed and locked the door after the diminutive aliens made their exit then turned to the Human. She checked his pulse and frowned when she felt no irregularities. He would not be out cold much longer, so she made haste at pulling down the bed curtains and slicing them to manageable lengths.
After struggling for a few moments, K’tana managed to get the man into the desk chair and tie him down using the shredded fabric. Confident he was secure, she walked back over to the door and opened it slightly.
“One of you...bring me spiced wine.” The guard nodded to her and took his leave. The Twi’lek walked back to the desk, sat down on it and spent the wait carving a crude picture into its surface with her dagger. Once the crudely drawn phallus was mostly carved through the white paint and deep into the wooden desk, a knock rang out through the room.
The Human jerked awake and K’tana smiled behind the mask. Perfect timing. She stabbed her dagger into the desk, moved to the door and opened it enough to put her arm through. Reaching out she grasped the bottle, rejected the glass and slipped her hand back through. Shutting the door, she turned around and stared into the failed assassin’s wild eyes.
“Well hello there!” Her male voice reached the Human’s ears, confusion ripping through him as he stared in hatred of the man he had his grey eyes on.
“Kark you, Sith” The Human hissed before spitting at K’tana. She jerked back with an amused laugh as she sat on the desk in front of him.
“Who sent you?” She asked as her silk-smooth voice was smothered beneath the gravelly modulator.
“I won’t tell you anything.’ His voice was quiet, his eyes full of rage and his white knuckles straining against the bedding.
“Why were you sent to kill me?” Again, her voice was level and calm. Again, he spat at her.
K’tana hand whipped out, her fingers slapping his forehead as pressed her thumb against his temple.
Tell me who sent you, Human.
The Gate Steward’s voice rang clear in the man’s head, its obviously feminine timbre issuing no command
“Who are you?! You aren’t Nadrin Arconae!” His shocked voice amused K’tana causing her to set down the wine bottle.
“Where is that bastard! Oh dear gods! What have I done?” The man’s caterwauling caused K’tana to tilt her head and pull her blade out of the desk, unsure of what he was talking about. She remained silent and sat forward as the man began to move from rage and fear to sheer panic.
“No. Nonono! This is wrong. You have to be him!” The Human’s voice shook as his head dropped, his gaze falling to the carpet.
K’tana slid from the desk and moved up next to the man, her fingers played up the back of his neck and slipped into his hair.
“Please,” He begged, “you have to kill me. If they discover I’ve failed...my family…”
His voice trailed off as K’tana came from behind and around to his other side, her blade lingering close to the Human’s ear. She leaned down next to him and whispered softly to him.
“I will. After you answer my questions. But I don’t quite trust you...not yet.” As soon as she stopped speaking she dug her knife through the cartilage of his upper ear and sliced off the top of it. He shrieked in pain as a spurt of blood washed down his face.
“No! Please! I’ll tell you anything! I swear! I’ll talk.” The Human’s pink skin flushed, tears and snot running down his face as he begged. He blubbered and wailed as she drew a thin line of blood across his cheek with the point of her blade.
“Pathetic.” She scoffed at the man. The modulator did nothing to disguise her scorn. “Of course you will. Weak little man that you are. Who was stupid enough to hire a little shutta like you to assassinate an Assassin?’
“Jedi! It was a Jedi. Some Togruta woman going by the name A’lora!” K’tana stepped back, her weapon hand dropping to her side as she processed this information.
“How do you know she was a Jedi?” Her voice cooled as she brought up the blade under the man’s chin. “You whined about your family. If you think Jedi would do anything to them…”
Her voice trailed off as the man began to stutter at her.
“S-s-he was unlike t-t-the stories you h-h-hear of them. She was cold, dangerous and said something about her need for Nadrin’s death. I was to s-s-send a message to the Arconae. And the B-b-brotherhood. But one that couldn’t be traced back to her. If I failed, they said they’d take my daughter into the Order...”
K’tana had heard enough and cut him off with a wave of her shiv. She walked over to the large bay windows and pulled the curtains closed. The Twi’lek walked slowly to lock the bedroom door before circling the man on the chair, tapping her blade against his shoulders, stopping before him and sitting back on the desk. Her fingers slipped under the mask and she pulled it over her head, the hood falling onto her shoulders.
The black and purple Twi’lek glared emerald shards at the man as she opened the wine bottle and brought it to her lips. She watched the Human shiver in discomfort before gripping the blade once more.
“I want you to tell me everything you know about Nadrin Arconae and A’lora.”
“I-I don’t know anything more! I swear!”
The Priestess’s green eyes radiated insanity as her lips pulled back into a wicked grin. Her teeth began to grow into sharpened points as she slipped the dagger under his chin to lift his head. When she spoke, her voice was so cold the Human felt a chill of terror creep up his spine.
“I don’t believe you...yet.”
No one in the estate could sleep through the screams that issued from the Arconan’s chambers.
|-o-|
“Lord Arconae, are you certain he should remain alive?” the Governor asked the masked Sith. His beady eyes focused on the Human who was being dragged out of the room in manacles and leaving a trail of blood.
“Trust me, General.” The man’s voice was smooth as cream. “He cannot even walk without assistance,. He will no longer be a threat.”
When the Bimmisaari followed the masked face’s gaze, he saw the bottom of the Human’s feet were missing long strips of flesh and several toes were mangled beyond recognition. A shudder ran up the cowardly Governor’s neck as he turned away. When he looked up at Nadrin, he could feel an aura of smugness emanate off the man.
Looking away from the Sith and the crippled assassin, the Governor took a deep breath, glad to be an ally of these ruthless people. When he looked back, the Arconae was already walking out of the door and as he got on his shuttle, all of Bimmisaari breathed a sigh of relief.
