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| - The team from Republic Navy Criminal Investigations had already finished combing the office for clues relating to the two suspected infiltrators, taking both the device and the bits of halsa wood that had disguised it into evidence for as quick and thorough an examination as the civilian agency was capable. While that had been going on, Laera spent the intervening time retracing her steps and quietly watching the lead RNCI investigator, a silver-haired Human named Grimm who bore all the hallmarks of a previous career in the Corps, as he asked various officers and NCOs who had been present at the time what they had seen. Unfortunately, no one was able to give much more than a visual description. Reeka and Tuffass, meanwhile, had gone back to the Gand's temporary quarters to go over some more flimsiwork that the commandant had worked up for them. Something about analyzing current training practices and how new Marines were assigned to and integrated within their new units, nothing that, the Bothan had assured Laera, she needed to worry about for the moment. For his part, Admiral Dun'vei was coordinating the search for the fake lieutenant and her partner, tentatively identified as a Wroonian, from within Naval Intelligence HQ. After the first half hour, the effort to track the interlopers down had grown from a relatively simple security concern to one involving agents from departments as far-flung as the Coruscant Security Force and the recently-founded Senate Intelligence Service. Operatives from Marine Force Recon were also in on the hunt, and even two flights of Aurek fighters from the Sixteenth Naval Fighter Squadron had been called in to fly overwatch for the expanding search block. It was only a matter of time until all civilian traffic to and from Coruscant would be locked down, if the feeling in Laera's gut was any indication. Despite the forces that had been called upon to help, the search was being conducted as subtly as possible, with plainclothes officers and operators pursuing leads in public while uniformed intelligence and security types worked sources from behind the scenes. It was abundantly clear to everyone involved that, on this world, it would be all too easy for their quarry to go to ground. Laera wasn't Intelligence-trained, but she was aware enough of certain aspects of the trade to realize that, had she not acted upon her and Tuffass's instincts, things could have ended up being much worse in the long haul. As comforting an illusion as it was, the Padawan didn't indulge in it for more than a moment. While the eggheads would doubtlessly figure out the purpose of the device she had found, their efforts would be made easier if they could learn who had developed it and seen to its planting within the very heart of the Republic's armed forces. But that wasn't her field; she was as hopeless with computers as she was with speeders and starships. So rather than dwell on the technical and tradecraft aspects of this conundrum, she fell back on what she knew she could rely upon: her memories, her instincts, and the Force. Quietly and as unassumingly as she could, Laera worked her way toward the nearest mess area and, after securing lunch, began to meditate. Letting the Force flow within her and allowing it to take her where it willed, she cast her mind's eye back to the two blonds she had seen that morning. The familiarity of the female began to gnaw at her psyche, her senses tingling with old memories long shuffled aside as irrelevant. Strangely, the plethora of shapes and colors began to coalesce into a tall, at least to her, brown-haired woman with hazel eyes, whose homeworld was... "Excuse me, Commander Stromboli?" The bright female voice jarred Laera from her reflections, but she managed to hide her surprise as she looked up to regard the speaker. She was a Rodian, but with a long plait of coarse black hair and wearing, of all things, spectacles with thick black plastoid rims. Over flashy civilian attire that strongly reminded the Human of the club scene on Zeltros some ten years prior, she wore a white lab coat that extended almost to her knees. "Yes, that's me," Laera replied hesitantly. "Who might you be?" "Gabby Taretto, RNCI," the Rodian introduced herself cheerily, giving off an air of frivolity that Laera might have considered endearing under different circumstances. "I'm a forensics specialist. My boss, Special Agent Grimm, told me to come and find you." "If this is about me shadowing him, I can explain," Laera began, but Gabby casually shook her head. "I think it's about the device you found," she shrugged. "Admiral Dun'vei was convening a meeting or something." "Right," Laera muttered, rising to her feet. "Where to?" "Follow me," the Rodian advised, rocking back on her heels before floucning the way forward. Doing as her rather effervescent guide indicated, Laera made sure to keep back about a meter, so that Gabby's carelessly swinging arms wouldn't hit her. The scientist's aura was bubble-gum pink intermixed with misty white whorls reminiscent of some sort of sweet beverage that was popular amongst children the galaxy over. How she could be so carefree in the middle of such a mess was beyond the Padawan's ability to reckon, so she simply strode onward in mute contemplation. It wasn't all that long before they arrived at where the commandant had set up temporary shop, and it was clear that this meeting was to be attended by a fairly significant number of beings in important positions. She recognized the Chief of Naval Operations straightaway; Fleet Admiral Octar Nishalema had taken center stage at a large conference table, surrounded on both sides by the heads of Republic Intelligence and the SIS, with the head of Naval intel not far off. Admiral Dun'vei had been relegated to a side role along with his adjutant, a place that his aura indicated he found to be an insult to the integrity of himself, his office, and his people. Laera could sympathize, but under her cover identity there was little she could do. Gabby led her to where her superior, the Human agent she had tailed earlier, sat with a trio of bagged items in front of him. He turned to regard her, then silently gestured for the two women to join him. Sitting, Laera looked across the table to see that Reeka and Tuffass had also been recalled; they were sitting next to the commandant and looking somewhat put out and decidedly beyond their own comfort zones. "Well, now that everyone is here, we can get this briefing started," the CNO began crisply, his voice hard but lacking any vehemence. "Be advised that everything said within this room is hereby classified Most Secret. Admiral Dun'vei, if you could recount your version of events." The Bothan did so, rising to his feet and speaking frankly. His irritation at having been supplanted as head of the investigation was only apparent to Laera, who of all those in the room was the only one trained in the Force, and who found his restraint admirable. He also deftly sidestepped the potential issue of her cover identity and why "Mishayle Stromboli" had been at the meeting in the first place, concluding with the hypothesis that the simulated lieutenant commander had only guessed at the nature of the device's hiding place. Judging by the chorus of nods that circled the table, his story was largely accepted. When he resumed his seat, the Human fleet admiral rose. "Special Agent Heron Lethroy Grimm, your report, please." Grimm nodded to Gabby, who nodded back, her plait rustling with the motion. "Thank you, Admiral," he rumbled as he stood. "After a thorough examination of the commandant's office, the device that was found, and its delivery container, we have come to a preliminary conclusion. The appointment with Admiral Dun'vei, scheduled for zero-eight-forty-five this morning, was a fabrication planted within the admiral's schedule from an outside terminal using an open proxy, we have techs looking into a possible trace, but we don't expect much from it. A check of transit records for the time in question show that several taxis carried fares to and from this area, we are currently attempting to narrow down a list of suspects from surveillance footage as well as testimony from the receptionist on duty and the commandant's secretary." He then picked up two of the bags, which bore the legend EVIDENCE: DO NOT TAMPER. "This halsa wood carving is a decoy, rendered very recently though we are unable to determine precisely how long ago." He set the bags down and picked up the third, taking care to ensure that everyone could see it. "As for this device, we are tentatively calling it a 'holotap'." "A holotap?" the CNO inquired, his brow raised. Grimm nodded to Gabby, who seemed to bounce into a standing position. "It's a wireless hypercomm sensor," she said breezily. "I can't be sure who made it exactly, not without taking it apart first, but doing that might compromise its components and we'd end up with a fancy-looking flimsiweight. Decorative, but useless." "Your point, Agent Taretto?" "My point is that whoever knocked it up is either a certified genius or an aesthetic whacko. Or both. It's designed to sample hypercomm transmissions for keywords and tightcast whatever it picks up for transmission to a rigged public HoloNet station, which we're in the process of looking for now." She said all of this in a rush, as though determined to break a record for most information delivered in the shortest time. "The thing is, this kind of technology normally takes up roughly the same space as the table we're sitting at. The method of miniaturization is...marvelous." "It's a Sith device," Laera found herself saying as, unbidden, she stood up as well. Her words prompted every being present to fix her with stares that ranged from shocked to reproving and everything in between, and she found herself flushing with embarrassment. "And you know this how?" asked the head of the Senate Intelligence Service, her tightly-curled hair bobbing as she spoke. "Just who are you, anyway, Commander?" "She is my guest," Admiral Dun'vei interrupted angrily, also standing. "And I'll thank you not to question the integrity of my Marines in my presence, Madam." "Gentlebeings, let's not descend into rivalries here," Admiral Nishalema said, holding up his hands placatingly. "You found it, Commander. Please go on." Laera took a deep breath, relaxing into the Force's embrace before continuing, this time set in her composure. "It's a matter of logic and instinct, Admiral. We've been at war for three days now, against an enemy who knows us as well as we know ourselves, if not better. I can only surmise that this plot has been some time in the making, timed to coincide with our formulating of a response to an outbreak of hostilities, against an enemy whose motives and maneuvers we can only guess at." "She's got a point," the head of Republic Intelligence said, nodding at Laera and then at the CNO. "This is the kind of intelligence coup that can win a war almost before it is begun. It may also be an opportunity, but we still need an essential piece." "The persons who planted it," Grimm put in sourly. "I recommend that we go on full planetary lockdown until we apprehend them." "Too risky," the Republic's chief spook replied. "They'll just go to ground, and the Sith will know for certain that we're onto them. They'll either abandon the plan or try again somewhere else, possibly causing more damage in the process. If we allow them to leave, however, we may still be able to utilize this tap against the Sith. Through it, we could conceivably provide disinformation and misdirection to whatever intelligence agency may be working for Darth Revan." Laera cast the Bothan admiral a beseeching look, settling into the Force and ever so gently implanting an image within his mind. A moment after her mental withdrawal, he seemed to get the gist of her unspoken message. "Admiral Nishalema, this was an attempt to compromise the Republic Marines at its very heart, an attempt uncovered by a Marine, and I request permission to conclude it utilizing Marine Corps resources." A soft murmur of side conversations washed over the attendees, with the CNO exchanging looks with the heads of intelligence that flanked him. Finally, he nodded. "You may proceed, Admiral. If there is nothing else, this meeting is dismissed." "Nice work, Commander," Special Agent Grimm rumbled as the roomful of officers and civilian officials stood in near unison and began to leave. As the two followed suit, he handed her a small business card. "If you ever find yourself back in the civilian world, give me a call. RNCI could use someone of your talents." "Thanks," Laera muttered in reply, her expression cryptic. "But I think my work is just beginning." — — — Tuffass trailed behind Reeka and the commandant as they attempted to exit the crowded conference room with as much grace as possible. The Gand was not yet so far gone that he could not at least prod the surface of the mists while navigating an ocean of beings much taller than himself, and what he found there intrigued him as much as he found it disconcerting. He had witnessed the thin stretching of his former pupil's mind as it had reached out to touch the Bothan admiral; having had nothing to contribute to the meeting, he had passed the time in a state of reflection that he liked to call "meditation at red alert." What the officer said once they cleared the sea of sentience only confirmed what the gunnery sergeant suspected. "Captain Reyolé knows something," the commandant said conspiratorially as they walked. "She was able to get some sort of message across somehow...and wants you two to meet her at the valet speeder station." Reeka seemed to squirm slightly at that. "But my speeder only seats two," she quietly protested. "And it's a rental." "I can only tell you that much," the admiral replied, and Tuffass was startled to see that the Bothan's disquiet mirrored his own. "Just go. I'll look after things here, but make sure to keep in contact. The captain has my personal comlink frequency and the channel is always open." The Rodian and the Gand exchanged a meaningful look, nodded to one another, then separated themselves from the admiral and followed their comrade's ethereal instructions. — — — "Our launch window is drawing near," Palo announced in hushed tones as he and Kimba browsed the wares of a mid-level open-air market in CoCo Town. "We've spent enough time dawdling." "Good," the woman growled back. "I've about had it with this planet anyway." The two managed to dodge a few overenthusiastic sales pitches as they furtively made for the northeast exit and a mag-lev commuter tram that would take them to the spaceport where Palo's shuttle had been moored. From there it would be a simple matter to board the Brixan Messenger, start the prelaunch checklist at their leisure, then wait for clearance. Thus far they had not noticed any signs of pursuit or that the alarm had even been sounded, but they were taking nothing for granted. "I just hope Lord So-and-so doesn't blame us if the Reps manage to figure out what we did," Kimba hissed waspishly as they waited for the next tram to arrive. "So do I, my dear," Palo concurred, some of that old suave smugness returning now that they were almost free. "As long as we make it offworld, he will know that we did our best." "You're assuming that he's not like the lords of old," Kimba bit back, cocking a brow at him. "Oh, I have indeed read my history, blue man. Did you ever get around to reading yours?" The long, grimy metal and plastoid snake that was the public tram began to pull into the station before Palo could reply appropriately, filling the platform with a rushing gust of wind and the noisy wafting of urban flotsam. Up until that point he had managed to avoid being too inquisitive about the nature of their patron, but with Kimba's "lords of old" remark, suddenly things began to become much clearer, and he didn't like the holograph that his mind was presenting. Yes, that would be all too possible, he thought to himself as the tram ceased moving and its many doors hissed open. And if this is so...are we karked one way or another regardless? Unnoticed amongst a mass of beings coming and going, the pair slipped onto a car near the rear of the tram and settled on a bench near the exit surrounded by the least number of people they could find. Fortunately, their escape strategy had anticipated the need to travel light, each embarking with nought but the clothes on their back, their concealed holdout blasters, a convenient set of one-off identification to get through the terminal, and a few loose credcoins to pay for any ancillaries. Everything else they might need was already on Palo's ship, ready for them to make a quick exit to whatever destination they so desired. Once the tram had run up to speed, however, Palo began to feel uncomfortable once more. Was it his imagination, or had he seen that speeder bike somewhere before? — — — "I have a bad feeling about this," Reeka said to Tuffass once the valet had left to fetch her rental. "Tuffass understands all too well," the Gand nodded in agreement. "There's something odd about the mists today, he can't put his finger on it." The pair resumed waiting, both for the Rodian's bike and for the arrival of their comrade, in silence, with the Gand casting furtive looks to and fro. Laera still hadn't arrived when the whine of repulsorlifts grew loud, indicating that the Navy crewer on valet duty was returning. He silently turned over the safety lanyard for the vehicle's ignition key, then retreated back to his post as though anticipating the appearance of some admiral or other important person. With the young Human gone, a windy silence flitted about the pad that was punctuated by the steady humming of the speeder standing at idle. Reeka looked at Tuffass, then at the bike, suddenly indecisive about how the Gand was going to be able to ride it safely. He shrugged uncomfortably. "If he has to, so be it." The Rodian helped the Gand up, gently coaxing his short legs across the rear saddle. Reeka was in the middle of coiling herself to vault astride the bike, her hands on the steering bars, when a hissed voice called out to them. "Wait!" Reeka jumped as though prodded with an electrode, almost losing her balance as she spun about to find the source of the hail. She didn't have far to look. "Again with the sneaking around!" she bit out. "You almost made me fall!" "Sorry," Laera apologized as she emerged from behind a corner. "Are you ready to go?" Somehow, in the span of time between the conference and their arrival at the landing pad, the Padawan had exchanged her service greens for the robes that she had worn upon her arrival the previous day, but this time her lightsaber was out and prominent as it hung from her belt. She quickly closed the distance between herself and the bike, motioning for Reeka to take control. "As ready as he'll ever be," Tuffass replied to Reeka's continued bewilderment. "Do you have a target?" "Yes," Laera confirmed softly. "Reeka, I need you to trust me." "You know that I do," the Rodian replied, her voice betraying her sudden misgivings. "What's going on?" Laera was already attempting to mount the bike, swiftly realizing that it would not be easy to fit all three of them on board safely—at least, under normal circumstances. Muttering an apology to the Gand, she held him suspended a few centimeters above the vehicle with the Force while she slid into the saddle seemingly with practiced ease. Shuffling herself into it, she relaxed her grip so that Tuffass was effectively sitting in her lap. "You too, Gunny," she whispered as she crossed her arms across his torso. Tuffass simply fixed her with an amused look, understanding in his multifaceted eyes. "Get yourself in gear, Lieutenant," he prompted. "You are the driver!" Her aura showed that she didn't like what was going on, but Reeka mustered her courage and resumed control of the bike. "Where to?" she asked as the engines roared in anticipation. "For now, head east," Laera said simply. "I'll let you know when we get close." "But how will you know—" "No time to explain!" Laera snapped commandingly. "Get going or we'll lose them!" The suddenness of the bike's acceleration momentarily caught the Padawan off-guard, but she soon resumed her Force-grip, holding herself and Tuffass securely onto the speeder like mynocks to a freighter. As she expanded her sphere of awareness outward, her senses searching diligently for the patterns of the Force she had pieced together that indicated their quarry, she began to appreciate why Reeka had taken up this sport. Even if it was only recreational flying she indulged in, the Rodian's handling of the high-performance machine was as expert as Laera could have imagined. The only thing that threatened to complicate things was the noise; running full-tilt through the urban landscape produced quite a lot of turbulence that might make communicating between the three riders difficult at best. "Can you hear me?" Laera shouted once they had ascended a few hundred meters and Reeka had brought them up to speed. "Barely!" the Rodian shouted back, her gaze still fixed firmly forward. "How about you?" "Well enough!" "Good, because I don't have any comm headsets!" Her attention too occupied between searching the currents of the Force and holding onto the bike, Laera couldn't create a tunnel of windless air between them, not that she would have been able to do so otherwise. So she simply increased the volume of her voice over the roaring of the wind and engines. "When I find what we're looking for, I'm going to use the Force to tap into your mind!" she yelled. "Just relax and focus on your piloting!" "You're going to what?!" Reeka replied, astonishment in her voice as she glanced back at her passengers. "The Force!" Laera shouted back, wincing slightly as the bike came altogether too close to several repulsor barges being towed by a large airtruck. "I can detect the auras of sentient beings through it! I can also place images into the minds of people who are open to suggestion or that I know well!" "That's crazy!" Reeka shouted back, this time keeping her head forward. "You've lost it, Captain!" "Trust her, damn you!" Tuffass bellowed hotly. "It's the only way we can find these scumbags!" "Reeka, please!" Laera all but begged. "Open yourself up to me, and you will understand!" The pilot shook her head, then brought the speeder around a large skyscraper and onto a new lane of traffic. "If we crash because of this," she snarled impotently, "I'm going to kill you!" They were passing through the heart of Galactic City now, heading rapidly toward Monument Plaza and, beyond, CoCo Town and the ring of spaceports that marked the eastern edge of that district. As Laera pushed herself hard to achieve new levels of awareness, she began to brush the upper surface of her old friend's mind. Tuffass, seemingly aware of just how taxing this was going to be for Laera, grabbed onto the back of Reeka's uniform and held on with all his might. Gratitude for the Gand fluttered through her, but she brushed the feeling aside and concentrated as she had never done so before, immersing herself deeply into the Force. The wind died down and the whine of the engines seemed to fall away, and then for Laera, nothing else existed but the bike, herself and her comrades. And that one elusive, tantalizing clue that she knew, once she pinned it down, was the key to solving this puzzle. Seconds passed like minutes, minutes like hours as the chase continued; the essences of dozens, hundreds, thousands of beings came and went through Laera's awareness, dismissed almost instantly as irrelevant to the matter at hand. The aura she sought was fixated within the targeting computer of her mind, and when she found it, it would outshine the sun... "There!" she roared, shattering the silence that had fallen between the riders. "Reeka, now!"
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