The Secret War

[Rinny]

Preface:

The Rebellion against the Empire has existed as long as the Empire has.  Up until two years prior to the decisive Battle of Yavin, it exists in a fractured state.  Each planet or cell has its own command structure, its own goals.  While they all wish to see the Emperor defeated, how they get there is not mutually agreed upon.

The following takes place approximately five years before the Battle of Yavin.  It focuses mostly on a few agents working for an Alderaanian resistance cell.

Special thanks to George for planting this seed in my head while we were hashing out ideas for a future campaign together.  As you can see I never let it go.   

[Rinny]

Prologue: The Last Voyage of Patrice


   "That's the last of them."  The old man fell into the pilot's seat and double checked what his two co-pilots has already done.  Nodding, he sighed.  "Let's get underway then."

   The younger man sitting to his right nodded and fired up the engines, pulling away from the docking station.  The even younger woman, girl really, sitting to the old man's left, spooled up the hyperdrive and within moments they left the space port behind them and continued on their journey.

   "Captain, we still need to talk about the repairs that didn't happen while we were docked."  Came an irate voice over the comm after they had made the jump.  One of the engineers (likely, all of them) was unhappy with the maintenance of the old transport ship.

   The old man sighed again and rose from his seat.  "I'll go calm Triten down, we can't stop for long until we get past the Core.  Amira," he reached down and squeezed the shoulder of the girl, "go check on our passengers, please."

   Amira looked up and smiled, "Yes, Papa."

~*~

   The old Corellian shuttle could carry two hundred passengers with its crew, though now it only had just less than fifty on board.  It had been her home for the entirety of her life, as brief as it was.  As little as it was she realized that every trip they made down Hydian Way and the other trade routes of the galaxy, the passenger manifests grew shorter and shorter.  Amira's father told her that he used to shuttle a full complement of tourists to and from the Core.  That this ship, which now struggled to pay its bills shuttling around refugees, used to be a pleasure cruise.

   The ship likely didn't need the ten person crew it employed, but the old Captain couldn't bear to let anyone go, they were like family.  Amira was pretty sure no one had been paid in months anyway, but with war spreading across the galaxy ship life gave one the luxury of mobility.

   About half of the passengers were enjoying a late dinner in the galley, along with a few of the crew.  None of the engineers, Amira noted, they were no doubt giving her father an earful of the repairs that needed to be made.  She had learned how to fly the old boat well enough, but still didn't grasp many of the intricacies of keeping it running.  While her father and his engineers had tried to impart on her the technical knowledge, for the most part she just didn't get it and didn't put much of an effort into the learning.  Amira was second co-pilot and enjoyed conversing with the many different sorts of people that traveled with them, and for a girl of fourteen stuck on an old ship that was enough.

   Most of the people were sitting at the two long tables eating, a few were quietly talking.  Almost all wore a look of exhaustion, many looked worried or sad.  It must be awful to be forced from your home, or to not be able to return once you left.  Amira didn't understand the war, didn't understand why it had to be so hard.  Her father sometimes talked of the time before the war, when there was mostly peace, but it was no use pining for such things now, they had been squandered.

   She spotted a young man sitting alone in one of the large chairs that faced the view port.  He didn't look much older than her, but he had grown into his body while she was still just knees and elbows.  He had mussed brown hair and wore a filthy grey jumpsuit with a matching jacket that he seemed to be clutching around him.  Amira poured twin glasses of water and walked towards the stranger.

~*~

   Alec Romy looked from the viewport and the stars streaking past to the girl standing next to him holding out a glass of water.  He blinked his eyes moving from the glass, up the skinny pale arm to the small creature.  She was young, in that lanky awkward phase of adolescence, her face was clean and pretty with long hair almost as pale as her skin swept back into a braid that hung just over her shoulder.  Her eyes were blue and curious, he almost smiled, everyone's eyes were sad or tired or suspicious or angry, but not hers.  Her cheeks were starting to turn pink and suddenly Alec felt quite guilty for the way he had been studying her, a child.

   "Thank you."  He took the glass, the water looked clean enough.  At least their water purification system was still functioning, he could tell by the subtle stutter and gasp of the ship as they moved through space that the hyperdrive was likely on its last legs.

   The girl sat in the chair next to his and sipped at her drink and stared out at streaks of the celestial bodies they passed.  "Have you been to many planets?"

   "Why?"  The word came out harsh and he was instantly on his guard, but those eyes he had to remember, though he was sure he would never forget, were curious, not suspicious.

   "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."  She quickly apologized, unhurt and undeterred by his tone.  "My name is Amira, my father wanted me to make sure everyone was settling in well."

   "Ah, the Captain's daughter."

   She gave him a smile that spoke of the pride and love she had in her family.  "And second co-pilot."

   "Not first?"  He had to smile, it was infectious.

   "Mr. Merik has been co-pilot for ten years, I think he would object."

   "I doubt anyone denies you anything."

   Amira shifted uncomfortably in her chair and they sat in silence for some moments.  Finally his cool demeanor cracked and he let out a breath that came out as a wince of pain.  He clutched his jacket even closer to him, but those blue eyes didn't miss a beat.  "Are you injured?" she kept her voice low.

   "No."  With clenched teeth he got to his feet, this distracting though insightful conversation had gone on long enough.  "Just a scratch, it's already been bandaged, just sore.  It's nothing."

   Amira took the glasses and set them on the bar then rummaged underneath it, looking for something.  She returned quickly and handed him a small bottle.  "For the pain.  You should try to rest, we're twelve hours out of Brentaal."

   "Thank you."  Alec looked into her eyes again, still with that curiosity of youth.  Idly he wondered what she saw looking back.  There was something else, something rare, and for a second he didn't believe it was a coincidence that he had chosen this ship.

~*~

   Amira went about her ship wide chores in an oddly quiet and contemplative mood.  She realized after the strange man had left the galley that she never got his name, though it would be easy to check the passenger manifest and find out.  Somehow he had managed to make their very short conversation about her, which Amira found unusual and unsettling.

   Eventually she found her way back to her room, her own room.  She had stayed in the Captain's quarters with her father until he had made her second co-pilot.  Since she knew he wouldn't be paying her, she demanded her own room as payment.  It was a small bit of independence that she treasured.  Amira smirked slightly to herself thinking back on what the stranger had said about no one denying her anything.  Her room was typical fare of a girl her age, clothes and various items littered the floor and the small desk.  Unceremoniously she shoved some of the things piled on the bed onto the floor and then fell onto the mattress and fell asleep without even bothering to kick off her boots.

[Rinny]

    Six hours later, not nearly enough time, the alarm on her wrist sounded loudly even muffled by her arm under the pillow.  Groaning she debated trying to catch another hour of sleep, if she skipped breakfast and didn't bother packing.  Suddenly she sat up, instantly awake remembering the conversation she had with her father on her way to her room last night.  The engineers had convinced him to spend the day docked and try to fix whatever was wrong with whatever was broken, Amira didn't remember the details but she figured it must be an emergency if they were stopping for a whole day.  For her that meant a whole day of exploring.  Brentaal IV was a busy trading port, a place that screamed adventure and excess.  For a girl whose entire life was lived in the eighty meter long confines of this ship, the idea of running around on an actual planet was exhilarating.

   She quickly freshened up, put on a clean pair of trousers and shirt, then dug around in the piles of her belongings until she found a small brown pack and started shoving the things she thought she might need for her daytrip.  Slinging the pack over her shoulders, she nearly ran from her room to the cockpit.

   "Nice of you to join us."  Mr. Merik was hardly a humorless man, but Amira thought that perhaps he thought he would be better suited doing other things than not being paid for flying refugees around.

   "Did you eat?"  Her father looked up from the console and accepted the quick kiss to the cheek his daughter gave him before she fell into the seat at his left.

   "Not yet, I'll get something in town."

   The Captain noticed the pack still on his daughter's shoulders.  "I don't like the idea of you wandering around on your own."

   Righteous adolescent indignation rose up inside her.  "Papa, I'm fourteen, I don't need a chaperone."  The two men nearly groaned in unison.  "I did all my chores last night and I'll be back before dinner, I promise."

   "And your room?"

   "It's my room, I thought we agreed that if I wanted to live in squalor that was my choice!"

   The Captain rubbed his face with his hands and Amira knew she had won.  I doubt anyone denies you anything.  She wasn't sure whether to smile or frown as those words crept back into her mind.  And then suddenly she was torn between wanting to talk to the strange young man again and avoiding him.  She was glad that neither man noticed her sudden internal conflict and instead her father made a ship wide announcement.

   "Thank you for flying the Patrice, we will be momentarily dropping out of hyperspace and docking at Brentaal IV.  As some of you may have already heard, we will be delayed at Brentaal until tomorrow due to... technical difficulties.  Sorry for the inconvenience."

   "That's putting it mildly."  Mr. Merik stated as the ship jerked rather than slipped from hyperspace.

   After receiving permission to land and their dock number, the Captain expertly piloted the old ship to a landing on their assigned pad.  "Get the passengers that wish to leave off first, those that are continuing on can stay and rest as long as they stay out of the way of Triten and his crew.  By Triten's leave or not, we're leaving tomorrow at 0800.  I'm not paying for two days worth of docking."  The Captain stood and gave his daughter's shoulder a squeeze before heading out of the cockpit.

~*~

   It took ten minutes to finish the power down sequences, and then another twenty rushing through the ship making sure the stragglers understood the Captain's orders.  Finally Amira made it to the wide landing ramp leading down to the busy port.  The scene spread out below her at the end of the ramp was not what she expected.

   The passengers and few crew members that had already disembarked now stood nervous and confused before what looked like a whole platoon of storm troopers all with weapons raised.  Amira stood frozen, trying to understand what was happening.  Their ship had been stopped and searched in the past, but never was there this kind of scene, this kind of fear.  A hand clamped over her mouth and another arm pulled her back away from the top of the ramp.

   "You need to listen very carefully."  It was the injured stranger's voice, his breath was warm on her ear in sharp contrast to his cold and measured words.  "You can't help them now."

   "What is the meaning of this?"

   Amira's eyes went wide, she recognized her father's voice as it carried towards the ship.  She hadn't seen him when she looked out at the crowd, but realized he must have been the first off, making sure everyone was taken care of.  She wanted to cry out, but she was locked in this stranger's vicegrip.

   "This ship is transporting rebels--"

   "All of my passengers are documented and all of my transport taxes are paid!"

   Amira couldn't hear anymore, he was pulling her further the away from the door.

   "They're going to search the ship, you need to get out."  Finally he took his hand away from her mouth but continued to pull her deeper into the ship.  "You know another way out."

   Amira nodded, she was afraid to speak, afraid of what her voice would sound like when it left her throat.  "What about you?"

   "Don't worry about me."  He stopped at the door to the cargo hold, he knew the other way out as well.  Who was he?  Did he have a plan?  Or was he just pretending to have a plan for her sake. There were so many questions, but no time.  "There is a man in an Imperial uniform, he has the rank of Sergeant-Major, do you know what that looks like?"

   Amira shook her head.  While he had been talking, he had pulled a small blaster from his jacket and reached around behind her.  He lifted her shirt and tucked the blaster into the waistband of her trousers, then set her shirt to rights again, no impropriety intended.

   "One red square, three blue squares, all in a row.  He has bushy red side burns, very ugly."  He grabbed her chin with his fingers and forcibly made her look at him, right in the eyes.  Amira saw something, she wasn't sure she could adequately describe the wide range of emotions and secret thoughts she swore she could see swirling beneath.  Mostly she saw the fierce resolve, whatever was happening, however absurd to her, it was very important to him.  "You give him this,"  he pressed a small black rectangular object into her hand.  Amira recognized it as something used in black market transactions to transfer credits between grey accounts.  "You say, 'The Red Pawn is out. I'm going sailing.'  Repeat it back to me."

   Amira blinked at him.  "What does it mean?"

   "No time, say it."

   "The Red Pawn is gone--"

   "Out.  'The Red Pawn is out. I'm going sailing.'  You must say it exactly."  His tone told Amira that things would go very badly if she got even one syllable wrong.

   "The Red Pawn is out. I'm going sailing."

   He smiled and winced at the same time, Amira knew he was still injured and likely lied about how bad it was.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small pill bottle she had given him the night before.  "Protect this."  He pressed it into her other hand, closing her fingers tightly around the cylinder.  "Do not put it in your bag, do not let it off your person."  He was speaking more quickly now, there was a lot of information he was trying to tell her without really telling her anything.  "You are the messenger, go to Alderaan, find a man named Avedis.  He will help you."

   Realization suddenly dawned on her.  She was fourteen years old, she was a child, and this strange man who had nearly shamelessly and grossly inappropriately flirted with her was now charging her with something that would be unbelievably dangerous.  There were rebels on her father's ship, and he was it.  If they found him, her father would go to prison.

   "Papa--"

   "I'm sorry, Amira.  I can only save one of us.  He would want it to be you."  He bent over, painfully she could tell, and transferred a knife hidden in his boot to one of hers.  "It has to be your choice."

   She was scared, she wanted to scream and to cry and to run away, but she nodded.  Whatever was happening, it was important.  She could read between the lines, her father had been in on it all along, likely longer than she knew.  Many odd things that she had noticed with him and other people on the ship that she had simply written off in the past were now seen in a new light.  A long ago war she didn't understand, an Empire everyone feared yet accepted, and a Rebellion shrouded in secrecy and right under her nose; she suddenly saw it all as if it were the first time.

   The man, the Red Pawn, she supposed, stood and looked into her eyes again.  "Repeat it again, exactly."

   "The Red Pawn is out. I'm going sailing. I am the messenger, go to Alderaan, find Avedis."

   "Good,"  he gave her that wincing smile again.  "When you get out, walk, don't run.  No matter what you hear, do not look back, keep going.  Don't give anyone your real name, your father's name, your ship's name.  Forget everything about this life and me until you find Avedis."

~*~

   The storm troopers were tearing the ship apart, looking in every compartment, room, and closet, but Amira was already on the opposite side of the landing platform walking away from the chaos.  Her steps stuttered and she nearly fell over as blaster fire rang out.  She forced herself to keep walking, resisting every urge to run.  She tried not to think of her father being shot, the crew, the men and women she had grown up with.  She didn't even want to think of the rebel that had passed on his mission to her, though she wondered if whatever wound he was carrying had been enough to doom him already.

   In her hands were a credit transfer device and pill bottle that she knew no longer held pain killers.  He had given her weapons, she had never fired a blaster before and the only knives she had used were for cutting food.  She spotted a large man in an Imperial uniform standing alone and for a second she wanted to keep walking, to pretend that none of this was happening.  The pull to disappear into Brentaal was severe, but she made her feet stop behind the man.

   "The Red Pawn..."  The words croaked out of her throat so quietly the man turned and seemed surprised to see someone standing there.  He did indeed have the bushiest red side burns she had ever seen, and was ugly.  "The Red Pawn is out. I'm going sailing."

   The man looked her up and down and frowned.  Suddenly remembering she thrust her hand forward and held out the small black object.  He took it and turned it over in his hands.  "Platform 47.  One hour."

[Rinny]

1


      Five years had passed since Amira made the decision that forever altered the path she was on.  Much had happened, though most of the time she still felt as if she was waiting for her life to start.  Now an adult, Amira had her own one room flat in the heart of Alderaan's capital city along with a job that actually paid.  Though being a co-pilot for a short-haul transport company wasn't anything glamorous, it kept her flying and fed.  It also served as a suitable cover.

   When Amira had first arrived on Alderaan, she had been scared and alone.  It took her weeks of searching and all of her too few credits to find the particular Avedis the Red Pawn had been referring to.  Who knew the name was so common?  It turned out he was a fairly low branch on what she would discover was the Alderaanian resistance cell.  The middle-aged father of three was a messenger, a facilitator, but he did get her in contact with the proper recipient of her package.  After it was determined that she wasn't a threat and had not been followed, a young woman named Sieva took Amira on as her protégé.

   As Alderaan was determined to remain non-violent in its opposition to the Empire, this particular cell was home to an extensive intelligence operation.  Though the galactic rebellion was fractured, occasionally they engaged in information sharing, but never in asset sharing.  Alderaan's spies belonged to its Chief, their identities and missions were closely guarded.  Though Amira asked several times for information on what had happened to the Red Pawn and her father's ship, she was denied at every turn.  Eventually she learned not to ask too many questions and how to discover answers on her own.

~*~

   "Have you ever been to Coruscant, pilot?"

   "No, Lady Olivette."

   "Should you find the time, it is a planet full of wonders.  Well worth the effort of exploration."

   Amira looked over her shoulder and offered 'Lady Olivette' a smile.  She would have to guard her emotions carefully on Coruscant, but allowed herself this one last moment of truth.  Sieva's fierce brown eyes, framed by long matching curls, returned the smile, but her face remained set.  While the young pilot was excited for the chance to leave Alderaan and to be a part of the mission, she did not envy the role Sieva had to play.

   Within moments the luxurious transport vessel had been cleared for landing.  They set down at one of the many rooftop landing pads.  Amira watched her comrade and friend depart with her retinue, a half dozen hand maidens and body guards.  Even Amira, as close as she was to Sieva, only knew of one in the entourage that was on their side.

   As soon as they were clear of the landing pad, the transport rose back into the sky and joined the crowded traffic lanes.  Inside the now empty cockpit, Amira took a deep breath.  From now until she could make her way back to the veritable palace that they would be working out of, Amira was on her own.  The Empire had labeled her and those like her terrorists and she would be walking alone through the seat of its power.  There was no turning back now, the decision had been made long ago.

[Rinny]

   A line of young cadets stood rigidly in a row all in brand new, freshly pressed uniforms.  A Lieutenant, not much older than those cadets, faced them with his hands clasped tightly behind his back.  Though he faced them, he wasn't watching them.  Hazel-colored eyes scanned the concourse of the docking port, always on the lookout for anything interesting.  Interesting could be defined as many things: a Moff or Admiral that wasn't yet due back to Coruscant, a congregation of hapless looking travelers, a package exchanging hands when the handlers thought no one was looking.  Greeting fresh cadets and directing them to their new assignments was menial  work and far beneath his skill level, but the frequent trips to the port were a wealth of knowledge.  In his line of work, knowledge was everything.

   For a second his cool demeanor faltered and his breath caught in his throat.  Across the concourse coming out of the docking platform reserved for visiting diplomats and nobles was the young woman whom he had long tried to put out of his mind, but she was often there lurking, like the sprite of his conscience.  She was taller than he remembered, no longer the awkward adolescent  but a fully formed woman whose long legs strode with confidence.  Her long, light blonde hair was plaited and pinned tightly up, her skin glowed with the color of someone who was used to spending time out of doors and no longer confined to a spaceship.
 
   Every ounce of his good sense was fighting back the urge to call out to her, to run to her and thank the stars that she was alive and well, and then to scream at her for daring to come to this planet.  There were other things he'd like to do as well, if he had the chance.

   "Sir?"  One of the cadets interrupted his thoughts.

   Suddenly angry at himself, he realized he'd been standing there like a fool watching her with a smile on his face.  Staring down at the cadets he harshly dismissed them.  As much as his soul ached to reach out to her, he knew she was a distraction he couldn't afford.  It would be dangerous for both of them if they crossed paths here on Coruscant.  Perhaps one day, when the Republic and the Jedi finally returned, if they both made it through alive...

   Jaw set, he turned to look at her one last time.  She was looking up at the time tables for the public transports leaving the port.  And then, she was looking straight at him.  Her blue eyes went wide and a hand moved up as if to cover the shock leaving her mouth.  And she called his name.

   "Alec!"

~*~

   The past few years living in Aldera had accustomed her to city life, to the crush of bodies crowding into a busy port, but Coruscant was another beast entirely.  This one port made all of Aldera look like a backwater town, and this was only the beginning of the journey.  Amira took a deep breath and strode forward, deftly maneuvering around and through the sea of people and their belongings.  She paused at the main concourse, weighing her transportation options; hiring a speeder would get her there quicker, but the public options left more room for sightseeing and people watching.  Amira's primary purpose in this mission was to be Sieva's chauffer and an extra bodyguard should it be necessary, but as a secondary she had to keep her ears open and gauge the mood of the capital.

   A cool wave washed over her nearly giving her a chill.  Amira blinked up at the timetables she had been reading.  Someone was watching her with more than just a passing interest.  She wasn't sure how she knew to look there, out over the crowd of people towards a man in an Imperial uniform that to her couldn't have stuck out more if he had been wearing a neon sign.

   In her waking dreams she had imagined this moment.  How she would simply smile and saunter over to him, crack a joke.  She would be charming and funny, and very much a grown up.  Instead her eyes widened until they nearly popped out of her head and she sucked in such a large swallow of air she thought she would choke on it.

   "Alec!"  In her head it had sounded like a whisper, but when several people turned to look at her she realized she had screamed his name.

   In that instant she had forgotten so much.  Forgot how to maneuver efficiently in a crowd, forgot to find the nearest exit, forgot to count the security guards, and most importantly forgot that they were both spies working in the enemy's seat of power and she had screamed his name across a crowded port.  In the frantic moments of trying to push through the crowd and being jostled side to side, Amira lost sight of him.  When she made it to the spot, the exact spot, that he had been standing, he was gone.

   Hours passed before Amira gave up searching the building.  She began to think she had imagined it, she had only seen him for a second and she knew he had seen her.  Amira knew that if he really had been there then there was no way she would be able to find him unless he wished it.  Searching the docking port was futile, but she didn't know what else to do.  Finally her senses were returning, the years of training washing shame and regret over her. Foolish, foolish girl.  She silently berated herself.

[Rinny]

   "Has Lady Olivette left for her dinner with the Senator yet?"

   A dark skinned man frowned at her as Amira entered the foyer.  "Get lost on Coruscant already?"

   Niment was the only one on Sieva's detail that Amira knew and was certain was on their side.  Even so, she didn't trust him with the real reason she was late.  "Yes."

   He studied her for a moment, trying to decide if it was worth the effort, but figured he would know eventually.  "Lady Olivette is still getting ready and has asked not be disturbed."

   Amira tilted her head slightly as she looked at the man, listening to his words.  It was a tell that she had, something she needed to work on, when she was sizing a person up, debating the reality of the things she heard and what she saw.  After a moment she nodded and walked past him to the elegant staircase leading up to the many rooms of the decadently decorated suite.  Suite was too small a word for it.  This was a palace inside of an even bigger palace.  A hundreds-something story building towering in the sea of buildings that was Imperial City.  Lady Olivette's entourage took up a small part of it, but it was as grand as any of the palaces on Alderaan.

   The young woman stopped in front of the guard posted outside the large doors leading to Lady Olivette's rooms.  Like Niment he was dressed in a dark, finely tailored suit, which should have been a more popular style than it was.  Sadly good fashion sense these days was considered to be an Imperial military uniform.  He was closer to her age than Niment and gave her a warm smile to go with his refusal.  "I'm sorry, Ms. Amira.  Lady Olivette is not receiving visitors right now."

   Amira pulled a ring set with a shining crimson jewel from her pocket.  "Lady Olivette must have dropped this in the shuttle, I wanted to return it."

   "I can take it for you."

   "I'd like to give it to her myself, if you don't mind."  They weren't even a full day into the likely month-long op and she was already using her free pass.  The ring was a token to get her past Sieva's guards and attendants if Amira found herself in over her head.

   The young man nodded and opened the door for her.  "She doesn't have long, the Senator doesn't appreciate it when she's late."

   Amira held back a grimace and nodded before heading into the chamber.  It was a very large, well-appointed room.  Everything from the couches to the carpets were oversized, plush, and colorful.   Enormous windows gave a spectacular view of the twinkling city laid out before them.  During the day Amira imagined the whole room being awash with brilliant sunlight, so bright you could sun yourself right there in bed.

   As she stepped further into the room, Sieva looked up from the two women fussing at her dress.  "That's enough, ladies, I'm sure I can get my shoes on without your help."  The two bobbed in a matched curtsy, gathered up some discarded clothes and hurried out of the room.  "You don't expect to dress like that to the ball?"

   Amira stared dumbly at her friend.  Sieva looked every bit the part of Lady Olivette on the shuttle ride, but those had been only regal traveling clothes.  She now stood tall wearing the dress and mask of someone truly born of one of the noble houses of Alderaan.  This cover had been firmly in place and redressed over the years and Amira wondered if Sieva ever forgot that she was just as common born as the young protégé she would take to all the worst dives Aldera had to offer.  "I---can't go to a ball."

   "Not like that you can't.  Come."  She held out a gloved hand and motioned for Amira to follow her across the room to a closet.  "Let's see if I have anything that will fit a small, skinny--and dusty--girl."

   The 'closet' was twice as large as Amira's whole flat on Alderaan, and twice as tall as well.  Floor to ceiling with dresses and various other clothes hung neatly and organized by occasion.  Shelves of shoes, glass drawers full of jewelry and other accessories.  Amira knew that they didn't bring all this with them as no single person could possibly find use for all of it.  Her stomach twisted in a knot, how long and in depth Sieva's mission was and how she was about to compound their problems.

   The door clicked shut and Sieva wheeled on her, the pristine face of a noble now twisted with concern, confusion, and even anger.  "What's wrong?"  Amira swallowed and glanced around the room.  "The main rooms are all bugged, of course.  This closet is the only safe place to speak.  I made sure of it myself."

   "Did you know he was here?"  The second she knew it was safe to speak, the words tumbled out of her mouth.  Amira didn't mean to sound accusatory, didn't want to assume that there was something else at work here.  However if there was one thing she had learned so far in this life, it was that something else was always at work; usually several somethings.  When Sieva's confused look continued, Amira pressed.  "Alec Romy--The Red Pawn--is here on Coruscant, I saw him."

   Sieva frowned at her shorter, younger companion.  "How can you be sure?"

   Indignation flared across her features.  Amira was sure she would have recognized him in a dark room with a bag over his head, but the thought was stupid and silly so she didn't give it voice.

   "Did he see you?"

   When Amira nodded Sieva's frown deepened.  "The Chief told me he was dead.  Did you know?"

   "The Chief tells us a lot of things, and no, I didn't know."  Sieva reached out and grabbed her friend's hand.  How she wished she could blow off her fancy fake dinner and sit with Amira to try and figure this out.  There was something else she was sure her companion wasn't telling her, but there wasn't time to pry it out of her.

   "What should I do?"

   "Focus on your mission."

   To Amira this was a profound life changing event, but to Sieva it was a footnote in her mission log.  With a sigh, the younger woman nodded.  "I'm not really going to a ball, right?  That was just to get me in here."

   "Of course you're going to the ball.  It's in two days, we'll have plenty of time to get something sized to fit you."  Sieva was grinning now, wickedly.  One of her favorite things to do was to throw Amira into new and potentially awkward situations just to see how she faired.  "You didn't think I included that we are distantly related into your new identity just to be funny?  To some people noble is noble, no matter how diluted the gene pool."

   "I take it Lady Olivette isn't one of those since she treats me like a servant and I have to buy my way up to see her."  Amira dangled the token ring on her finger out towards Sieva.

   The elder woman smiled at the verbal sparring.  "I need a fresh face.  Young, pretty, with just enough influence to be interesting."

   "But with down home charm to be approachable."

   Sieva nodded, they understood each other.  Her mask returned and she opened the door, head held high she stepped from the closet.  "Wear the ring at the ball, return it to me another time.  I insist."

   "Thank you, my lady.  You have always been too kind to me."  Amira bowed her head and crossed the room to the exit, her own mask returning.

[Rinny]

2   


   Sleep used to come easy to a young girl whose only worry was not having anyone interesting to talk to aboard her father's old ship.  How much things had changed since then; sometimes it felt like that old life belonged to an entirely different person, as if it was a story she had read about.  Sleep was hard now and often came in short spurts late in the morning.  When Amira had first arrived on Alderaan she had been so scared out of her mind she was awake for days and if she did sleep it was during the day on a park bench or hidden away in the toilet stall of a shopping center, never at night.  Her odd sleep pattern did come in quite handy from time to time, but usually it proved to be inconvenient.  And a question that needed to be answered would ensure she had no rest.

   Just past midnight Amira had descended into the lower levels of Imperial City.  Though several stories below where she had last seen the moons, she was still far above the worst of the underlevels.  Smoke hung in the air giving a hazy glow to the street and shop lights.  Once or twice she saw some deformed rodent scurry out of a pile of refuse.  It was a bit reassuring when she caught sight of a few alien faces; Coruscant proper was a disturbing sea of humanity.  Amira smirked slightly to herself, that she was reassured and felt more at ease here among the undesirables of the Capital.

   Tucked onto one of the hazy, glowing buildings was an outdoor cantina.  A bar built shoddily onto an even rougher looking structure with a few mismatched stools and chairs scattered about.  A hundred meters down the way loud music and carrying voices were coming from another building causing the young woman to smile at a memory.  For all its secrecy and the inherent danger, Amira enjoyed this life she had fallen into.  She was an unattached young woman who got to constantly reinvent herself and tonight she was no one special, just looking for a place to unwind.

   A female Rodian behind the 'bar' offered her the house special, a local draft which Amira accepted along with the advice to not lean too heavily on the bar.  She took a few sips of the beer, pleasantly surprised that it wasn't awful, almost good.  She drank it slowly, lazily looking out over the few patrons sitting in the few scattered seats, the drifters loitering on corners, and the laughing young people spilling out of the club down the way.  Amira waited until the sudden burst of activity outside the music hall had dispersed before placing a few Imperial credit coins on the bar and walking  down to where she had spotted her mark.

   Though it was hard to tell in the dimly lit alley, he looked human in his baggy clothes and long jacket.  Just the sort you'd expect to find casually hanging around where people looking for some fun and escape would gather.  Idly Amira ran a finger across the leather of her jacket along a slight lift over her wrist, the familiar feel of one of her daggers tucked into its sheath inside the sleeve.  She was only a few feet away when the man turned and offered her a lopsided smile.

   "Hey, pretty lady, you look like you're ready for a good time."

   Amira tried not to wince as she caught sight of the spice-pusher's rotting teeth and a whiff of his smell.  "I've got pretty particular tastes,"  she answered impassively.

   "Nyriaan, Gree... glitterstim?"  One of his brows twitched conspiratorially and his smile widened.

   Amira gave him her best look of surprise and disbelief, it wasn't hard as she doubted he had pure glitterstim.  "Really?"

   Slipping the pusher a cred stick, Amira bought three paper packets and tucked them into an inner pocket of her jacket.  "Power cut out in my section, where can I find a data terminal around here?"

   "HoloNet?"  The man looked behind him down the street then fidgeted with cuffs on his sleeves.  "The skin shows don't mind if you use their terminals if you pay."

   Amira followed his line of sight down the block where she could make out through the haze a pair of holographic dancing girls.  She could feel her cheeks flushing slightly and nodding to the man she started heading further down the littered road.

   The doors past the dancing holograms were apparently broken and fixed in a halfway open position.  A balding and bored looking man sat behind a small counter and barely looked up when Amira walked in.  If he was surprised to see a young woman enter this den of holographic debauchery, he certainly didn't show it.  After quickly glancing at a screen in front of him, he grunted out a room number and jerked his head towards a hallway lit by blue and red colored lights.

   As she passed rows of closed doors, some with strained grunting sounds coming from within, Amira pulled a pair of gloves out of her back pocket.  Though usually she would wear them to prevent leaving traces of her identity behind, she was more worried about hygiene in such a place.  Finding her assigned room number she hesitated for a second before pushing the button to open the door, hoping it was indeed vacant.  Letting out a small sigh of relief as she entered the empty room and locked the door behind her.

   It was a small dimly lit room, next to the door was a disgusting, ratty old couch facing the small holo terminal.  Amira stood in front of it, assessing the device; the projector was oversized and the credit mechanism was an add-on that looked like it could be easily bypassed.  Despite that, Amira went ahead and paid for her show, choosing the least offensive looking name in a language she didn't know hoping that would make it easier to block out.  After it started she pulled a small box out of her jacket and set to work.

   Kneeling in front of the terminal, she popped the front plate off.  The small box was a stripped down datapad that had more in common with a droid processing core than a typical consumer device.  Out of the back of it came a scomp link for which she quickly located the corresponding port.  The box flickered to life and a series of Aurebesh, numericals, and foreign symbols raced across the tiny screen.  Amira popped up just in time to catch a pair of naked, humping holograms flicker away into the Imperial owned HoloNet logo.  Gloved fingers danced across the keys until she and her little box had taken a backdoor out of HoloNet and into a wider database.  This was a ridiculous long shot, the idea that she could find any information about a man who had literally and purposely left her nothing but a name that he couldn't possibly still be using.  But as she found herself amidst a sea of information, she couldn't help but feel eager and emboldened.

   While she most certainly should not have been accessing these files, nothing she saw was anything deeply classified or groundbreaking.  She started with what she knew, information about the half-dozen new cadets she had seen with him at the docking port.  She found the list of cadets, their names and assignments and that they had indeed arrived this afternoon to Imperial City, but no information about the man that had escorted them.  She tried searching for her father's name, her ship's name, incident reports from Brentaal IV the date her life had changed forever; Amira found nothing about her former life except for a brief notation about rebel insurgents located near Brentaal IV the day before her father's ship had arrived.

   Thirty minutes had passed and the terminal beeped.  Amira quickly inserted another cred stick before crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the computer in front of her.  It really couldn't be that easy.  It was foolish, and yet here she was on Coruscant using her real name, her first name anyway.

   Search: Romy, Alec; Imperial Military Records

   For a moment all she did was stare at the image before her, the wavy brown mess of hair she had remembered was cut short and neat without a strand out of place, his green-brown eyes were hard and the severe look on his face made her frown.  The earnest feeling was gone, replaced by growing trepidation that started in the pit of her stomach and crept up into her chest.  Fingers no longer so sure entered in a few more keystrokes, reading what she could of the file while she pushed it onto her box.

   "Don't be greedy." Sieva's voice echoed in her head.  Amira wondered what the meaning behind such a statement would be now: greedy over digging up more than she was looking for, or greedy in that she had chosen to use this opportunity on something personal.

   The image faltered and blinked out, quickly replaced by three naked holograms in very awkward positions.  Amira took one last backdoor and keyed in one last command before swiftly tucking her equipment back into her jacket and replacing the panel on the terminal.  She placed her hand over the door switch and took a deep breath, counting slowly back from twenty.  At ten a loud, metallic siren sounded and after a beat several raised voices could be heard, most demanding to turn that racket off.  At zero a hiss escaped the vent above her.  She looked up, expecting to see the white gas of the fire suppressant, or maybe even a spray of water, but nothing happened.

   Guess it'd be a bad omen if the plan worked perfectly. Then it was time for the running.

   Another breath and she slapped her hand on the door release, a rush of cool and misty air hit her face.  Apparently some of the emergency systems were still working.  Several people were already in the hallway, pushing to try and get to the exit.  Amira worked against the crowd, but she was just small enough that she could squeeze past and when being nimble didn't work a quick stomp with the high heel of her boot did the trick.  If what she remembered of the outside of the building was correct, then up two flights of stairs and the fifth door on the left should have a window that appeared capable of being breached.  When the door didn't respond, precious seconds were wasted pulling off a panel to reveal the emergency release lever.

   "What are you doing in here?"  A man stood up from behind a desk covered in credits.

   "There's a fire, mate, don't you hear the siren?"  Please don't go for the blaster.

   The man went for it, but Amira was quicker, much quicker.  Before he had his hand on the grip Amira's knife was out of its sheath and in her hand.  As he raised the barrel towards the intruder, she released with practiced and deadly precision.  The blade hit home, buried to the banding in his chest.  He fell to the floor and Amira closed the door behind her.  Careful not to step in the spreading pool of blood, Amira grabbed a chair and with adrenalin aided strength she slammed it into the window.  The loud crash blended in nicely with the wailing sirens and increased uproar and confusion in and out of the building.

   This part of the building came to a narrow angle overlooking a dark alleyway across from what looked to be rows and rows of residential flats some with their own busted out windows and only a few with any lights still glowing.  Outside the window was a narrow ledge and suddenly the advantage of her high heeled boots was gone.  Before Amira stepped up onto the chair for a boost up, she pulled a second dagger from the opposite sleeve and kept it at the ready as she climbed out onto the ledge.  It was just wide enough and once she was out she decided it wasn't so bad, even the drop to the street below looked survivable.

   Move.  Amira had to remind herself.  She rounded the corner of the building and several shuffling steps later made a small jump to a raised platform that led to the adjacent building.  From there it was making sure she kept heading out and up.  Once she had breached the level where some portion of the skies above became visible, she slipped the dagger into the sheath in her sleeve.

   It was a much longer journey back to the building that housed the fake noble and her entourage; several public transports, backtracking, meandering, and even a stop at a cafe for caf and pie until just before dawn her soot covered boots finally crossed the elegant marble floors of the penthouse foyer.  A man she didn't recognize stood quickly from his seat in a plush chair near the bottom of the wide staircase as she approached, looking as if she had just startled him awake.

   "Ms. Amira," he frowned at her.  He was taller than her though not quite as tall as Niment though huskier.  "It's rather late, I'm sure Mr. Niment will want to be informed that you were missing all night."

   "I wasn't aware there was a curfew, Mr..."  Amira was very good at turning on that part of herself that was still a fearless, indignant teenager and it fit nicely with this new identity of bastard nobility.

   "Parik Torre, and Imperial City can be a dangerous place, especially at night."

   Amira thought she really should take the time to read through all the briefings and personnel files, but she preferred getting know someone through their conversation and actions rather than what was written on a screen.  At least she should have put names to faces and who exactly each one was working for; another entry into her to-do list, but first to get through this confrontation and into her bed.

   "Thank you for your concern, however I'm more concerned that the person on watch for the night fell asleep on duty.  Go ahead, wake Mr. Niment so we can both tattle on each other."  The corner of her mouth tugged slightly into a smile.

   When the only response Parik could come up with was to grunt in annoyance, Amira took the opportunity to head quickly up the steps to her quarters.  Indeed her late night hacking and murder had been the far worse of the two's mistakes, Parik didn't know that.  Once in her room which was much more spacious than she was used to, but nowhere near as large and extravagantly decorated as Sieva's, Amira shed her boots and clothes.  She was careful to tuck her equipment and the majority of her daggers in a locked drawer in the closet before digging through her stuffed travel pack to find an oversized, crumpled sleeping shirt.

   In her hands was one of her finely crafted black carbon steel blades, near nine centimeters of viciously sharpened edges followed by another seven and a half of handle covered in a thin black cord for banding.  At the end was loop which Amira had been told was used for tying rope but she found it of great use for ease of access and idle spinning.  Tucking the knife in-between the plush headboard and mattress, the young spy settled into her bed and fell asleep trying to block out the things she did in service to a Republic she hoped she would live to see.

[Rinny]

3


   It was obvious that the farther you went down on the Core's city-planet, the seedier things became.  In the buildings that scraped the sky politicians, nobles, and wealthy business men stroked each other's egos and forgot that thousands of feet below them people fought and scraped to get by.  It was a near mirror of the galaxy at large; worlds near the Core thrived while the Outer Rim was largely neglected, left to criminals and other undesirables, run by its own set of rules and a cultural identity of being the forever unrepresented.  Outsiders were not trusted or desired, especially not those that represented their oppressors or the long arm of their law, the Imperial Security Bureau.

   Alec Romy did not begrudge the disdainful looks he received from those that dared to look his way, in fact he welcomed it.  The Empire was not to be loved, it was to be feared; the tighter the grip... he believed it was only a matter of time.  Hands clasped tightly behind his back, he took a moment to survey the hostile environment he was about to enter.  Several levels below the surface it was still dark, lit only by street and shop lights.  A smokey mist hung in the air creating a haze to the already dimly lit area.  Several agents in their dark uniforms were scattered up and down the street though mostly concentrated on one building with its door ajar and dancing naked holograms out front.

   Sitting outside the building in a pair of stun cuffs was a balding, ragged looking man who had a cut and swollen cheek that was already turning an ugly shade of purple.  Alec looked at the other agents milling about but none seemed to be dealing with the man at this time.  He approached and knelt down slightly to be at a level with him, that perhaps they wouldn't be overheard.  "Rough night?"

   The man winced and  turned away from him.  "I told the other agents everything already."

   "Tell it again." His voice was low but his tone firm and commanding.

   "I don't know nothing. People come in, ask for a room, watch their shows and leave."  The man tried to rub at his face with his shoulder, turning away from Alec.  He was nervous and had every reason to be.

   "But you let them use the HoloNet, right?"

   The old man frowned and shrugged his shoulders.  "Power flow's unreliable in some of the underlevels, so sometimes people check their messages, watch the news, listen to music...  I had nothing to do with--with whatever's happening."

   "Your equipment accessed privileged information, that falls on you, the owner."

   The old man's eyes went wide and he shook his head.  This information surprised him, he had not been told why his business had been raided or why they kept asking him all these strange questions that he had no answers for.  "My computers only access a few of the approved Imperial HoloNet channels, no way someone could do that from here."

   "Did you notice anyone bring in any equipment or anyone odd?"  Alec was fishing for an answer he thought he already had.  It would be a strange coincidence if on the night of his sprite's arrival a sophisticated attack had been made on a relatively low clearance database.  He had a theory of a who, what he didn't have was a why or what she was after.  If his theory on the who was correct,   he would have to remove anything that could find its way back to her.  "We know that there are rebels operating in this section, was it one of them?"

   "I--I don't know any rebels, I swear!  Maybe they came through the back?  That door doesn't always lock and they could have found an empty room--"

   Alec stood and straightened his grey-green uniform top.  "A likely scenario.  The Empire thanks you for your cooperation."  Turning on his heel, the young officer headed into building.

   He passed rows of small rooms each with a tech or agent poking around, dumping computer logs, trying to ascertain how a dumpy little porn shop had managed to trespass into some of the Imperial Center's most protected systems.  "Chana?"  he recognized one of the techs and stepped into the room with her.

   Crouched in front of an open panel underneath one of the projection units was a woman with short black hair, she turned at the sound of her name and a large smile spread across her face.  "Lt. Romy, I didn't expect to see you down here."

   "Not where I'd choose to spend my morning, but my boss is quite concerned with this breach.  Do I have to wait for the full report or can you give me a sneak peak now?"  He gave her a charming smile in return and took a few steps into the small room.

   "It could still be a few days before we can compile all the information, but right now I'm not sure how it was done without a droid."  Chana stood and began keying commands into the console.

   "The Shadow Head's group?  Are they involved?"  In the underlevels of Imperial City  amongst the fractured masses of malcontents there was one individual who had managed to coalesce a following.  While their hit and run tactics had managed to grab the ire of the ISB, its leader had stayed hidden and none whom the authorities had managed to capture alive gave up any information about him.

   Chana scoffed and shook her head slightly.  "We've been cutting power to various sectors trying to flush them out, but they're a feral gang.  This was a sophisticated slice, beyond what they've shown us they are capable of."

   "Perhaps we haven't seen all their tricks yet."

   "Perhaps..."  The woman turned from the lines of data flashing before her on the screen towards Alec.  "We should do some information sharing over dinner?"  She gave him another flirty smile.

   Alec gave a small laugh before nodding,  "I work late tonight, but lunch tomorrow?"  Chana laughed and waved him off.   "I'll call you later,"  he said before turning and heading out of the room.

   It was a beneficial relationship, for Alec at least.  Many tidbits about open investigations as well as quirks of Imperial systems integrated with the HoloNet found their way into their conversations.  Technically he was unattached to any Intelligence operation and his official assignment was to an Admiral's office mostly running errands and doing busy work.  He had carefully manipulated the reassignment process to get him off a Star Destroyer and into Imperial City, the fact that he ended up in close proximity to an Admiral with Intelligence ties was the crowning stroke.  Some would call it a coincidence or luck, but Alec didn't put stock in such things.

~*~

    "Well it's obviously not a robbery, sir."  A young man holding a datapad stated as he stacked the table full of credits into neat piles and counted them.  He was a new recruit fresh from the Academy and flush with recommendations.

   "Figure that one out all by yourself?"  His superior stated dryly as he hunched over the body on the floor.  So far this rookie had yet to prove he was worth all those recommendations and suspected that he had a relation pulling a few strings.  "Just write the report and--what are you doing here?"

   "Making sure our good friends at the ISB are thorough and keep us in the loop with their investigation."  Alec stepped into the now crowded room and eyed the dagger still embedded in the corpse's chest.  "Any leads, Agent Holis?"

   The agent straightened and stared down at the intruder in the green uniform.  Over the past year the two men had crossed paths several times and it rarely resulted in 'mutual cooperation.'  Holis found Lt. Romy to be arrogant and interfering, and Alec found the agent to be a little too good at his job.  "The ISB doesn't answer to Imperial Intelligence, Lieutenant."  He said the rank with a sneer, as if it was beneath him.  Unless they were assigned to a ship, many in both organizations simply went by Agent.  It allowed someone new like the rookie to be able to interrogate someone his senior without ranks getting in the way.  Alec guessed that Holis was the equivalent of a Captain or Commander, depending on the ranking structure, and likely did outrank him, but given that their two operations were often at odds with each other despite being on the same side, titles and ranks meant little to both men.

   "When it's a breach of military databases, the Intelligence Committee gets rather anxious.  Admiral Zaarin has asked me to look into it; to ensure everything is being done to find out what was accessed and by whom."   He was still studying the knife, trying to picture it in the small, delicate hands of the girl from his memory.  Alec didn't want to think of her this way, capable of such violence and to be so careless as to leave evidence behind.  It was entirely possible, and more than probable, that this was not the work of the woman that had suddenly reappeared the day before.  But Alec had to know, and had to protect that information to protect her.

   "Do you recognize it?"  The rookie brought him from his wayward thoughts.

   Alec shook his head slowly,  "You don't see a lot of assassins using this sort of weapon.  There's a certain elegance to it."

   "Let's not romanticize the rebel scum."  Agent Holis gave Alec a shove out of the way before bending over the body to wrench the dagger from its victim and deposited it into a bag.  "And he wasn't assassinated, he was simply in the way."

   "Admiral Zaarin will expect a full report."

   Holis stood and thrust the bag at his rookie, giving Alec another disdainful look.  "If the Chairman of the IC requests a report then I'm sure he will get it.  Paloy!"  he called out to another agent standing just outside the door.  "Escort Lt. Romy out of my crime scene."

[Rinny]

   Amira Aldeté, he had finally found her.  It was early in the evening when Alec had finally come across her travel clearance file and cross referenced it with the central Imperial database as well as a database on Alderaan.  Of course he could have found it sooner, it could have been the first one he pulled as he knew where and when she had arrived.  He had pulled files for the past four hours searching through hundreds of people who had arrived in the last few days and would likely continue for a few hours more.   Seven hours of pretending to search these new arrivals for possible rebel infiltrators to read a few paragraphs and take a long look at the accompanied picture.  She was smiling, a large, happy grin not only showing off bits of white teeth but shining in her blue eyes as well.  It was an odd sight to see amongst the majority of frowning and bored looking travelers.

   The identity that had been crafted had been done so with great care and attention to detail, though he didn't expect anything less.  What did surprise him was that Sieva had escaped his notice for so long, and that the two of them were working together.  This 'Lady Olivette' cover and her operation had likely not caught his attention because it had gone on for years now, predating his arrival at the Imperial Center.  Though he was certain Amira had never been here before, that he would have noticed.  It had been impossible in the position he was in after they parted ways all those years ago for him to keep track of her, not that he didn't try.  Alec was thankful for it, if he couldn't find her then neither could anyone else.  And when presented with the opportunity, he had finished scrubbing her off the grid.

   "I've got to get to Alderaan, they get all the pretty dames."

   Alec glanced over his shoulder at his hovering coworker, and then across the large, open room at the rows of mostly empty, tidy desks though there were still a few scattered uniforms working at their computers, talking on their comms, or otherwise in engaged in keeping the Imperial war machine moving.  Perhaps it was a bit later than he had thought.  The interruption had come from Gylen Marc, a man whom he shared a rank with but little else.  Marc was a bit older but lacked the usual Imperial discipline and likely wouldn't have survived very long on a cruiser or other more combat focused detachment.

   When Alec didn't answer and instead turned back towards his 'research,' Marc leaned up on the desk and continued with his commentary.  "Don't fantasize too hard on that kind, we're nothing but dirt under their pretty little feet and they'll let you know it too."

   Alec let out a small chuckle and leaned back in his chair,  "Sounds like you know that first hand."

   "Before you got here I was the one doing the Admiral's scut work; shuttling him around, picking up his laundry, delivering his 'apologies' when he couldn't attend some fancy party.  They don't take that well."

   Alec just let out another small laugh and shook his head.  He remembered a cool and composed Sieva, but also the harsh volatility of a woman who didn't like it if others in her plans failed to follow the course she'd set.  "I'll keep that in mind."

   "Don't work too late, Romy, plenty of other broads out there know a good thing when they see it."  Marc gave his comrade a clap on the shoulder and headed back towards his desk to presumably clean up his space then head out for the evening.

   Shaking his head, he marked a notation on Amira's entry flagging her as being assessed as low risk.  As the evening wore on, he remained diligent on his work until he was the last breathing entity left in the office.  With a few final keystrokes he recalled two dozen files to be forwarded to the Intelligence liaison for further review.  Many of the names were random, but there were a few who were real potential dangers.  The best lies are built with nuggets of truth and that was how he had built his Imperial identity and life.  So occasionally he would feed them a lead to a rebel or an attack to ensure suspicion never fell on his shoulders.

   Alec was a harsh critic of any in his field and viewed anyone who was foolish enough to be found out deserving of their fate.  He saw them as dangerous to the wider mission, these impudent would-be rebels endangered assets in play and operations already in motion.  Which was why he was still perplexed over the events of the morning.  A skilled operative that had managed to get in and out without being noticed, make a complex slice, and the forethought to disperse the majority of possible witnesses left behind a telling piece of evidence.  While not altogether unique, it was not typical and should such an item appear again, there would undoubtedly be more information, more clues, more dots to connect.

   Could he trust in whatever instruction Amira had received since he last saw her?  Trust in those he had sent her to, the same ones he had turned away from.  She was outside of his circle of control, his carefully balanced farce, and in order to maintain his balance she would need to remain there.