Scheming & Swindling

Alia and Marquis were the last to arrive and found their seats among the Dark Lord's aids and advisors.  Marquis was pointing out people to Alia quietly as the conversations in the room had not begun to die out before the meeting.  "That woman on the opposite end of the table from Domino is Grand Admiral Darin de Devastator, his cousin.  She is the Intelligence liaison between Deominia and Imperial Center."  Marquis stopped talking and Alia heard her voice in her head.  ~Rumor has it that she is Ubiqtorate.  Don't ask, I'll tell you later.~

Alia continued to listen and pretended to be interested as Marquis pointed out several others - some Navy officers, a stormtrooper commander - until she stopped at two rather plain looking men.  Marquis said "I don't know these two men.  They could be with Darin, although I'm not certain because they aren't seated near her."

Domino stood up from his chair to begin the meeting.  "Servants of the Empire, we have been all but dormant for quite some time.  The campaign against the Nerakan Empire is long past and our spoils from that conflict, including the Nerakan training centers and shipyards, brought us out from those circumstances in much better condition than when we began."
"I'll cut right to the chase.  We seem to have a pirate captain who has divined the location of a Rebel Supply ORD.  If we get this information from him, and determine the information to be true, we will mount an attack utilizing the Alpha Battle Group."  The room remained quiet as Domino sipped from his water.  "But first, we must get this information from him."  The Dark Lord nodded to the two Deominian Palace guards at the door.  They opened it as Rayla stepped in leading a very worried looking man followed by two Julayps.

#####

'He looks about as uncomfortable as I feel,' Alia thought, watching Lavaran move around the table and seat himself nervously.  Rayla moved to her own seat, but left the two Julayps behind the poor man.  'Wait!  RAID?  On the Rebel ORD?  I've got... He can't be serious!'
Domino was already back to talking and gesturing to the nervous commander who nodded every so often.  Alia pushed out her senses, begging to find a Rebel Jedi somewhere, anywhere, but she was again blocked out by the presence of so many Dark Jedi.  'I'm really beginning to hate certain things.  If it isn't that damn Deominian cloud blocking my abilities it is the presence of the Dark Side smothering them.'  Marquis was saying something but Alia wasn't listening to anyone other than Domino and Captain Lavaran.  'If I can't find anyone, I'll just have to listen to them until the opportunity becomes available.  de Devastator's making a big mistake letting me in here.'

#####

Rek Lavaran listened to Domino de Devastator and nodded several times while glancing at the Julayps on either side of him.  'I hate these Sithspawn,' he thought.  'They smell worse than gundark droppings.'

"We intend to launch an attack on the rebels and your knowledge could be crucial to the operation.  To prove your loyalty to the Empire, you will divulge the information you have on a hidden supply ORD."  de Devastator looked at him with a penetrating gaze.

"Aye, sir."  The view veered off to angle the ship into the space next to the Cruiser.

If all went as planned, the Rebels would have difficulty responding.  According to his orders, the main crew rotation was supposed to be happening now.  But then, things didn't always go as they were supposed to in a battle.  So far, though, things were going well.  The Banshee had reached its' holding point and the Harlequin's Mask was following it up rapidly, the weapons on the troop transport destroying the emplacements around one of the docked Rebel capital ships.
But the Rebels weren't slow either.  Already approaching the repair docks were a pair of Nebulon B Frigates and a bit farther back were a pair of Star Cruisers flanked by two Endurance-Class warships.  His sensors also detected several other ships heading in from the other side of the planet.  With luck they would be gone before those ships could be brought to play.  It was a race against time.

"Activate concussion missile banks and turbolasers.  Shields up, launch TIE squadron 1."  His orders were quickly enacted.  Twelve TIE Fighters swung into view from the sides of his vessel and sped towards the enemy.  X-Wings were being similarly launched from their foes.  "Is squadron 1 clear?" Tharsis asked.  There was a nod.  "Launch squadron 2.  We need to delay them as much as possible.  With luck, our staggering of fighter launchings will slow them a little."

#####

Captain Le'Onad Belgh smiled at the man next to him.  "Have you coordinated our secret weapon, Lord Grissk?"  The tall, hooded figure nodded.  If his face were easily visible to the crew, it would frighten them from the burning intensity and soulless passion that existed in his expression.  But Grissk did not scare Belgh.  The two of them both served Domino de Devastator, and Grissk would therefore be cooperative.
Belgh looked at the viewport again.  "Excellent.  Please work on coordinating our boarding maneuvers now.  It is imperative that the initial impact on the enemy be as severe as possible."

Belgh turned an unconcerned glance at Grissk.  "Stick to your job, Grissk.  You can't do mine."

"You cannot do mine either," Grissk retorted.

"And whose is the most important in this situation?" Belgh asked.  He shook his head.  "Nevermind.  We are allies in battle.  We must cooperate if we expect results.  Are we in place?"

The subordinate he'd addressed the last question to nodded.  Belgh turned back to Grissk.  "I believe you have a boarding to oversee."  Grissk's expression indicated his displeasure with Belgh's lack of respect, but he nonetheless set about doing what the man asked.

Smith listened to the Sith Lord query the pirate Captain Rek Lavaran, and most fervently wished that he and Jones would have the opportunity to put the former Rebel turncoat into an interrogation chair on Yaga Minor to confirm the truthfulness of the information he was soon to provide.  Although the Sith Lord might or might not be able to ascertain which of the Captain's statements were lies, he doubted if Domino de Devastator would also be able to devote the time required to scoop up the key details - the kind that usually get field operatives killed - that were no doubt missing either deliberately or because they had been recorded only on a subconscious level.  'Besides, if he is cooperative there is less than a 50% chance of any permanent neural damage.  Certainly, he should be willing to go the extra mile to help us be sure no vital bit of information (such as THIS IS A COMPLETE TRAP, YOU WILL ALL BE KILLED AND SMITH AND JONES GET IT FIRST) is accidentally omitted from the briefing.'

Domino's countenance underwent several dramatic changes when Rek Lavaran asked the question:  from slack-jawed astonishment to obvious annoyance to mild amusement... finally his face took on the expression of thoughtful composure.
"Captain Lavaran, perhaps you are not aware of the vast trouble you are truly in.  Certainly you know about the location of this base, but word has it your fleet has also participated in the destruction of an Imperial Star Destroyer."

Rek didn't know what to say.  He had heard that some high ranking Imperials had strange powers, so he tried not to broadcast his emotions.
"I believe that he was angry at me," Rek began.  "He was trying to make me look bad because when I stopped helping the Rebels I was forced to dispatch an X-Wing Squadron and only one pilot survived.  I believe that he may be the one.  Or that the Rebels already knew that I found the location of a base and are trying to distract us."  Rek hoped that that would make the Dark Lord hold off the subject for a while.

Darin extended her senses throughout the room.  The obvious emotions were caused by the anxiety of the pirate captain.  Darin had recently spent five years in the outer rim combating several pirate fleets, so she had little sympathy for him and his squirming reactions to her beloved cousin's predator/prey routine.
For the briefest of moments she felt two non-Force sensitive minds converge on the same thought and inadvertently mesh.  This pulled her eyes to two men seated not far from her.  She found them difficult to read, but it was the surface emotions that drew her awareness to them to begin with.  She smiled as she reached out to them.  ~Relax my friends.~ she projected into their minds as they turned to look at her.  ~The Lord de Devastator will let you have your turn with the pirate if you feel you need that.  He has a soft spot for the necessity of your work in Adjustments.~
She smiled as she sensed their understanding, then she turned to listen to her cousin.

#####

Domino considered the words of the obviously, understandably nervous Rek Lavaran, then smiled.  Coldly, like a serpent.  "Indeed?"  Rek nodded, but he couldn't help the feeling that he was the rodent within the serpent's striking range.  "Captain Lavaran, you have evidence of a rebel supply ORD in the Farlenx sector.   Can you pinpoint the system the ORD is located in or is your information just that general?"

Rek straightened in his seat, believing the Sith Lord to be placated with his previous answer.  "Yes, Lord de Devastator.  My navigation team was able to track them all the way to a final destination."

Domino nodded.  "Yes, that is all well and good."  Turning to gesture to an officer just behind him, the Dark Lord continued.   "Rek Lavaran, meet Lieutenant Sharok Nihmbson.  Lt Nihmbson is an astrogation specialist and he has recently gone over the data found in the computer of your ship, Nova Child.  His commander saw fit to dispatch some probes into the Farlenx Sector, so I'll have verification of your information shortly.  Lieutenant, what would you say the accuracy of this information is?"

The officer stood at rigid attention and replied, "My Lord, this information, without probe droid input, is regarded as 80-95% accurate."

Domino smiled down at Rek, but it was not a pleasant sight for the pirate to behold.  "Lieutenant Nihmbson was the officer in command of the navigation and astrogation team for the Imperial Star Destroyer Grunthos, Captain Lavaran." Domino allowed that to sink in for a moment.  "I trust that name sounds familiar."
Lavaran only nodded.
"Captain Lavaran," the Dark Lord of the Sith inquired, "there is something you should be sharing with me, isn't there?"  With a chuckle he added "I mean, I already know what happened from the point of view of the crew who managed to find escape pods from the Grunthos.  You might as well confess your involvement to her destruction.   It's interesting to note how totally useless you have become to us."

Alex sighed contentedly as he unpacked his belongings in his room.  Becky had shown him around and Alex thought the place looked very professional.  His was impressed with Commander Barkon's Squadron.  He and Becky had talked a great deal catching up since they had last seen each other.  She finally excused herself to attend to some work duty promising they would talk again.  Alex was pleased to have a friend in a new place.  It would make the transition easier.
As he put away his last set of clothing the door opened and in walked the young pilot that Alex remembered being chewed out by Grant.

"Cross?"  They shook hands.  "I guess you and I are roommates.  My name's Dex."  He flopped down on his bed, put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.  "Oh yeah, Thix wants to see you.  Something about assigning you an X-Wing and your wing-mate."

Alex stared at Dex for a moment not too sure what too make of him.  He finally shrugged and left the room.  Might as well find out what Thix wants, he thought.

"Grant, what do you think of the idea of laying down a minefield as an extra defense measure around this planet?" Thix mused.  "Laser mines, not Gemini mines.  Something we can give feedback to for incoming ships."

"Thix, you're putting off calling Master Skywalker."

Grant's observation caused Thix to sigh.  "I suppose that you're right.  He's not going to kill me or anything...." Thix smiled weakly.  "I wish... never mind."  He accessed the terminal built into his desktop.  The holotransmission was picked up a few seconds after it began pinging.  Thix could see Luke's face in center screen.

"Thix, you're back.  I'm sorry about what happened to Alia.  I'm sure Ibran was hurt...  What's wrong?" Thix had tried his utmost to keep a straight military poker face, but nothing escapes the scrutiny of a Jedi Master.

"It's Ibran, Master.  While we were still searching for Alia, we were ambushed.  I wasn't hurt.  Neither was Ibran, I think, but he was kidnapped.  I haven't the slightest idea where he is now, and whoever did it was very professional.  Talon Karrde agreed to help look for Ibran with us, but so far he's turned up nothing.  If he had, he would have called, and I trust him enough to know he'd keep his word."

"Talon Karrde?  Yes, I've had... an encounter or two with Talon.  He is trustworthy.  For the most part.  He'll keep looking."  Luke paused to consider what Thix had told him before he continued.  "I'm going to have to think about what to do about this latest.  Right now I've got an assembly I need to take care of.  I will contact you later.  May the Force be with you."

"And you, Master Skywalker."  Thix shut down the link and breathed deeply.

"See, now, that wasn't so bad," Grant commented.

There was a knock on the door. "Come on in," Thix told the knocker.  Alex entered.  "Alex! Have a nice time?"

"Very nice.  I really admire what you've done with this base... it's... very professional." Alex used the wording he had thought earlier to describe the Rebel base.

"Thanks.  Anyway, we've got to get you set up here.  We've already got three more X-Wings coming in from Supply... well..." Thix checked a flimsy sheet."....Two and a half, actually, one's spare parts, but that doesn't matter.  We're going to assign you to one of those new craft.  You're lucky.  If you'd signed up with us back after Mechis or Sullust, you wouldn't have gotten an X-Wing for nigh a month." He grinned.  "Now you need a wingman.  Any personal choices?"  Thix saw Grant drawing a finger across his throat. The squadron commander traditionally picked wingmen, not pilots.

"Ah, I just met Dex, he's my roommate. But personally, sir," he almost giggled saying sir but kept a straight face, "I'd like my wingman to be Lt. Caleer."

Grant buried his face in his hands behind Alex.  He knew that was coming.  And he also knew Becky's duties.  "Sorry, Alex, Becky leads Three Flight.  She's already set up.  But is Dex alright with you?" Thix asked.  He hadn't meant to put Alex in a position to make him feel disappointed.  He was just frazzled by the day's events.

"Yeah, sure, he seems like a good guy."  Dex was a good guy, and a good pilot.  He didn't like authority, however.  Neither did Thix, which was ironic considering his rank.

"Alright then.  It's settled." Thix finished entering data into his computer.  "There.  All set.  Tomorrow's another day off, so you can hang out here all you want.  Eat, drink, be merry."

The Imperial Intelligence personnel moved to surround the door that supposedly concealed Dishon Manatim.  They readied their weapons, and prepared to key open the door.  Outside, the pilot of the Imperial shuttle watched the liner start to drift off course.  He thought nothing of it, assuming that the pilot had died in the decompression, and smirked.  He didn't know what the Admiral had been worried about.  This was one of the agencies better trained teams, and they would pull this off without any difficulties.  He confirmed the mission leader's message that the door was about to be breached, and prepared to reclaim the team and their captive.  The door hissed open to reveal a gray furred Wookiee, empty hands held in the air.  "Looks like you got me, boys," it said through a translation box.  The Imps stood bewildered for a quarter of a moment, then the Wookiee averted her eyes.

Meanwhile, a group of small beings sat waiting in their own shuttle, secure in the shielded docking bay of the luxury liner.  One of them watched the approach of the Imps to the door using well secured cameras in the hall.   When they got to a door, he raised his hand, palm open.  The other four with him watched the hand.  At the first word from their leader, the hand closed into a fist, and the five disappeared.

The pilot of that shuttle was listening as well, and at the second word the Wookiee spoke, he keyed open the hangar doors, and brought his shuttle into an attack position.  Just as the Wookiee's eyes averted, there was a bright flash and loud noise, instantly disorienting the Imperials.   The fire from either side of the hallway took down two of the four soldiers instantly.  A third was down with a Bowcaster bolt, but not before he could get off a shot into the room.  However, the Wookiee had moved after the flash-bang grenade, and was no longer in place.  The blaster burned a hole in the wall, but not enough to rupture the hall.  The fourth knew he was outgunned, but wasn't about to be captured.  He ducked, and sought cover in the empty lavatory behind him.  The smoke in front of him cleared, as did the enemy fire.   He waited, ready to disable as many of his adversaries as he could before he was finished off.  He tried to send off a communication to the shuttle, a warning, but his comm was being jammed.  The waiting became almost unbearable, and he thought they might have given up, until he felt the sharp pain of a vibroblade bite down between his shoulder blades.  His arms went slack, and he flopped his body to see his killer.  The strange thing was short, with three eyes and large ears, and a bald head.  It had no expression on its face that he could recognize.  He tried to spit out a final word of defiance, but all that came out of his mouth was blood.

Out in space, the pilot saw the new ship enter the fray, and knew that it had been a trap, as the Admiral had thought.  He prepared to hit his hyperspace vector, and then a beep from his computer told him that it was blocked by the drifting ship.  Damn his overconfidence!  The first real mistake of his career, and it would probably be his last.   He prepared to evade the rapidly incoming attack shuttle, hopefully long enough to escape.

The diminutive pilot of the Rebel shuttle came in fast and furious.  Minimal shielding, he saw, strictly a transport.  They hadn't really expected to meet organized resistance, despite the fact that they had known it's possibility.  'This is such an easy kill,' he thought.  'Okay, stick to mission parameters.'  He moved in and switched his weapons off of laser cannons.  'This ought to be simple.'

The Rebel shuttle was moving in too quickly, the Imperial pilot saw.  He tried to send off a final transmission to command, but his communications were being jammed.   Shutting his eyes, he waited for the inevitable.  The ship shook with impact...

....and the pilot opened his eyes.  All systems were dead, but he was alive.  Something clanked against his hull, and then a voice resonated from the com-speakers.  ~Attention Imperial pilot.  You have been disabled, but should be able to limp back to your boss in a few hours.  We want you to send him a message:  Stay out of our backyard, or you might get more than a bloody nose next time.~
There was a slight vibration as the communication device on the hull detached and destructed.  Then the pilot watched the Rebel Shuttle return to the Luxury liner, and then the pair entered hyperspace.  Alone, he began to work on repairs.

After a short random hop, the liner headed for repairs, and the shuttle waited so that the commander could send off a communication.  "Well, Colonel, your plan worked.  The Imps did analyze the phony lights and sound that were at the Senator's interview, and tracked down the liner.   We eliminated the team, and sent the shuttle home with a slap on the wrist.  Where to next?"  Once she had her orders, Major Bjiatocah and her Zuu Shi Commandos were off once more into the cold blue of hyperspace.

Rek Lavaran kept a straight face and tried not to turn any whiter.  "I suppose you'll have me executed for this?"

"The story Captain Lavaran." The Dark Lord said.

"Well sir, when I was waiting for your ship, Blackfire, to come to us, I decided to take a look at the systems around our position.  I sent my corvettes to one system with my A-Wing squadron and took Nova Child to another.  My commanders came out of hyperspace believing that they were under attack by a star destroyer and called for reinforcements.  When I arrived in response, I immediately saw their folly but the battle was too far under way.  The A-Wings had nearly taken down the Star Destroyer's shields and I thought that destroying the ship would be a way to cover up some problems.  The X-Wing pilot was at the location as well, and I knew him for the rebel he was.   The rest of what happened you know from your reports."  Rek realized he was blabbering and shut up.
He waited for Domino's response, dreading the words that he was certain he'd hear.  Every smuggler, pirate, and fringer knew stories about Imperial torture sessions.  He remained still with his chin up, prepared for the worst.

"Hello."

Kyra blinked.  The man's eyes were open, indicating his conscious state.  She bit back the embarrassment she felt at not having noticed and inhaled slightly.  There was still no scent from him.  Hiding her disappointment, she nodded.  "Hello," she said.  "How are you feeling?"

The man smiled.  "Like someone decided I could do without part of my abdomen," he said.

In spite of herself, Kyra smiled.  "You're alive.  You should feel lucky I got you out of there before anything could happen to you."

The other's smile softened.  "Thank you," he said.  "I appreciate it."

Kyra shrugged slightly.  "Thank you for saving my life," she said.  She paused while what she'd said sunk in.  She rarely thanked anyone for anything.  Why should she start now?  She arranged her face into an act of casualness.  "So, who are you?" she asked.

"I am Kyra Takeda.  You are in a safe place, although I cannot reveal its' whereabouts to those who are not loyal to my Master."

Ibran frowned and nodded.  "I understand.  Although I have yet to break a confidence."

Kyra's face went flat.   "I still won't tell, and if you keep this up, I may start to wish I hadn't helped you at all."

Ibran's face saddened slightly.  "Statue of frozen marble," he murmured.  "Why do you not trust me?"

Was he serious?  "Are you really so naïve, or do you purposely ignore all the smugglers, thieves, assassins, and bounty hunters that exist beyond these walls?" Kyra asked.

Ibran nodded, his face remaining sad.  "I can only assure you that I am none of those."

Kyra snorted gently.   She still didn't trust him, but his open sadness touched her in a way she could not define.  "And how can I believe that?" she asked.  "I don't even know who you are."

Ibran sighed.  "I am a Jedi," he said.  "I choose not to lie."

Kyra affected a look of surprise, but internally she was pleased.  Here was the confirmation she needed.  "Show me," she said.

Ibran bowed his head.   Kyra watched him attentively, searching for some hint of a smell.  Several minutes passed and nothing happened.  "What did you do?" she asked.

Ibran smiled and tossed the sheets off of him, revealing the bandage on his abdomen above the black trousers he wore.  "I'm now fully healed of my injuries," he said, standing up and removing the bandage.  He tossed it on the bed and looked about for his shirt, which he found on the nightstand.

He was about to pick it up, but Kyra stopped him with a hand.  "Let me see," she demanded.  She poked it in a few places, but no pain showed on his face or in his thoughts.  "How do I know they weren't already healed before you woke up?" she demanded.

Kyra was on her feet instantly, lightsaber in hand and switched on.  "How do you know?" she hissed, pressing the green blade towards his throat.

"Don't," Ibran's eyes glimmered in the dim light of the room as if they had tears in them.   "Please."

"How do you know?" she insisted, the blade sliding along his neck up to rest next to his ear.

"I can feel the Force flowing within you," Ibran said.  "It's not hard."

Kyra frowned.  "If you can really use the Force, lift that table over there." A polished Bimmissarian hardwood table with a stack of books on it lay across the room.

"I would prefer to use my own physical power," Ibran said.  "But as you wish."  His body froze and his breathing became shallow.  Kyra felt the tiniest of twitches in the Force and the table rose of it's own volition, the books still neatly stacked on top of it.  It floated over next to her and Ibran smiled.   "Do you believe me now?" he asked.

Kyra nodded and switched off the lightsaber.  "Here," she said proffering the weapon.  "It's yours."

Ibran's soft smile broadened.  "I know." He accepted it and re-clipped the weapon to his belt.

"So you're feeling better?" Kyra asked, eyeing his body where the bandage had been.

"Yes, thank you.   I've enjoyed meeting you and I think I'm the better for it." He extended one of his hands.

Kyra looked at the hand then tentatively accepted it.  "Nice meeting you too," she murmured, confused.  A moment ago she had been threatening his life; now she was befriending him.  She needed to regain control of the situation, but for the moment she wasn't quite sure of how to do that.

Ibran smiled, a pleasant smile that was dazzling in its' own normal way.  "I trust you," he said.

Kyra's senses reeled.   As he'd said those words, she could suddenly feel the Force flowing in and around him.  And the smell of his aura... it was mint.  The purest, ripest mint she'd ever smelled.  It was a cooling mint; a tempering mint; a refreshing mint.
It was a cleansing mint.

"How-?" she gazed at him, baffled.  What she had meant to say was 'How come I haven't sensed this before now?'

"It's my trust," he said.  "You didn't have it before I gave it to you."

He'd answered the question in her thoughts, not in her voice.  A troubled look crossed Kyra's face.  "I pity the person that loses that trust," she said quietly, gazing guardedly into Ibran's deep emerald eyes.  Eyes that matched his scent well.

"No," Ibran said.  "Once trust is given, it can never wholly be taken away.  Diminished, perhaps, but never taken away."

"Who are you?" Kyra asked again.

"I'm Ibran Crissean," he said.  "And you are my friend, Kyra Takeda."

The return came back a moment later.  "Captain Vreese wants to know why, sir."

#####

Captain Le'Onad Belgh smiled as the Rebel Frigate was demolished.  "Excellent," he said.  He turned to Lord Grissk.  "How does the boarding progress, Lord Grissk?"

Grissk shifted concentration for a moment.  "It proceeds.   Stormtrooper squads two, three, and seven are approaching the secondary control station while squads one, four, five, and six secure their rear.  Estimated time to arrival is two minutes."

"A total of two clone stormtrooper squads have been killed already.  They have fought their way through four staggered squads of rebel troops leaving no survivors."

Belgh nodded.   "Acceptable losses.  When the stormtroopers have cleared most of the way to the secondary bridge, cease their coordination and return to working with our secret weapon.  Fire control, destroy the primary battle bridge with our weapons.  Communications: inform Captain Tharsis that we have two minutes remaining before we can start to withdraw."  Bestatter steepled his fingers together and gazed through them at the battle taking place.

The com officer swiveled his chair to face Belgh. "He says the enemy reinforcements will arrive in 70 seconds.  If they have to engage for greater than one minute, they probably won't make it."

Belgh smiled curiously.  "Tell him that two of the Victory Star Destroyers must open fire on a single approaching cruiser.   Togorian Gambit style firing pattern focused on the cruiser's starboard side maneuvering thrusters using dry firings from the tractor beam generators.  If the strategy works, we should have an additional minute or so."

Belgh pressed a switch on his command chair and quickly recorded a message for the Star Destroyer Insipid.  He handed it to an aide.  "Have communications play this message in exactly seven seconds," he said.

The aide nodded and strode over to the crew pit.  He handed down the datacard with the message.  When the com officer pressed the switch to send it, Belgh pressed a similar switch on his own chair.  "Hidden Strikers Alpha, Beta, and Delta, prepare for your assault," he said.  "The Dark One will guide you when it is time."

Admiral Kanaris heard the fuzzy static of Rebel jamming drown out the hyper-com channel to the shuttle pilot, and instantly knew it had been a trap.  'Well,' he thought, 'when the going gets tough, the tough kick butt.'
"Computer, determine exactly how the Rebels knew we were following that ship.  Use any internal personnel and external resources you deem necessary, but I want to know before we move to the new and improved secret headquarters facility," he ordered.  "And alert me if there is any additional information."  
'Serves me right for treating Alliance intelligence like they are Kowakian monkey-lizards.  After all, they did steal the plans for the original Death Star.  I won't make that mistake again, soon.'
"Whose orders did the surveillance team think they were following?" he asked looking at Tess.

"They thought they had been deployed at the command of an Admiral Trask of Imperial Intelligence.  He has no connection with Adjustments," his secretary answered.  "Standard Bureau N operating procedure - we just don't exist," she finished.

"Good," said the Admiral. "That little maneuver is really going to cost them.  And this time, it is their hubris that will bring on the fates."

MOVE ON TO PART II
RETURN TO THE ARCHIVES

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