Toxicity and Conversations with Spies

[Estelle Russard]

Continued from here (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=19159)

Aboard "Hope For Change"
Rebel Cruiser, Mon Calamari Space


Spy # 1 - Ophelia


Estelle walked with the brisk step of a woman on a mission, the echo of her footfalls pinging dully back to her from the gleaming durosteel of the Starship's interior. Polished floors and walls, sterile in the bright glare of the overhead flourescents, cast a muted reflection of her form, crisply dressed in navy cargo pants and black t-shirt, as she passed through their pristine hollows.

She checked her chrono. She had timed her arrival to the Interior Communications Hub down to the minute. She was expected at 1800hrs on the button and her chrono ticked over to have all hands lined up perpendicularly centered on the time peice face. The Hub door's swooshed open and Russard stepped through.

"Im looking for Officer Cristobal" she announced to the two heads that had bobbed up from their respective datascreens at her entrance. Fresh-faced, her hair pulled tightly back into a simple pony-tail, her eyes clear and alert - no one would guess she'd been running for her life, alongside her two partners, and all of them under a hail of laser fire some short six hours prior, escaping from an Imperial Relay station assault they'd just carried out.

"He is expecting me" she added as the doors swished closed behind her and the ebb and flow of soft electronic blips filtered from the surrounding equipment and through the air around her.

[Santiago Cristobal]

"Back here!" A voice from a back office called. Estelle made her way around the various *blips* and *bleeps* coming from the equipment placed at various stations in the room. As she entered the office, she only saw the back of the man.

"Officer Cristobal?"

"One minute." The man pressed several buttons on his computer and the senior operative watched as four different screens had four different data analysis scrolling down. One was Holonet, the latest feed talking about upcoming public trial (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=19023) of Director of Intelligence Dasquian Belargic. The next three were data she didn't recognize but Estelle knew Cristobal was the Sub-Director of Analysis so he had to be analysing something.

"Is that a Surprosa (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Suprosa_supercomputer)?" She hated to interrupt but her curiosity at how a supercomputer could be housed on a Mon Calamari cruiser got the best of her.

"It is." The man hadn't moved just yet. "Have you seen them before?"

Estelle had actually at Russard Industries but she wasn't going to tell this Cristobal yet. "I have sir, yes."

The 'sir' appeared to have caught Cristobal off guard momentarily and he turned around in his seat and stood up. He was shorter than Kazaar and barely an inch taller than she was. His brown hair was cut close to the scalp, emphasizing his face, which was far from unkind, but appeared to be able to switch into a different mode at ease. His eyes were a dark green, flecked with brown, and smiled when his mouth opened to greet her.

"You don't have to call me 'sir'." He clasped her hand in greeting. "I'm Santiago. Or Cristobal if you prefer. You're Estelle Russard correct?"

A joking smile. "Tall, dark and spooky sent you here yes?"

[Estelle Russard]

"He did, Sir, yes"

She winced slightly, having included the sir he'd just told her to drop. It was an automatic association, though, when her thoughts were led in Othniel's direction. She returned Cristobal's handshake firmly and then withdrew her hand. His jest at The Black Man's expense was faintly reminiscent of something Aurelias might say, only, minus the rock of gibraltar on his shoulder and the 'I hate authority' sign-waving. Santiago was attempting humor to break the ice and Estelle appreciated the effort.
"That's what we call him, too" she said with a shy smile.

"I have just returned from Rhen Var where we acquired the data Othniel passed on to you." Santiago would be aware of that already, but he politely omitted saying so. "Have you had a chance to look at any of it?"

[Santiago Cristobal]

"No I hadn't." Santiago admitted. "I was waiting for you before analyzing it. I thought you'd want to see the analysis before I turned it over to your boss. Would you like a rundown on what we know so far?"

Estelle nodded and Cristobal motioned her to take a seat. "Here's what we know: Based on information we got from a communication device found here on the Hope for Change, the Empire is plotting something against the Council." His hands went over a keyboard like it was a musical instrument not a piece of technology. "Now your information, hand it to me will you." He accepted the data disc and plugged it into one of his computers. "Should at least be able to tell us who's going to...hmm that's not right."

Cristobal's fingers started moving quicker on the keyboard. "Did the Empire try to delete this information?"

Estelle's brow furrowed. "There was a program, but we were able to stop it from deleting the data."

"Not all of it I'm afraid." Cristobal made several more keystrokes and narrowed his eyes. "Some of the data is disjointed, in pieces." His jaw set. "It's going to take an hour or so before the data is processed.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle compressed her lips disappointedly, she had hoped there would be minimal loss of information.

"But it is retrievable? Eventually, right?" she asked, optimistic.

[Santiago Cristobal]

Cristobal's smile was wide and friendly. "Of course it's retrievable. It's easily retrievable. In fact, the computer's all ready processing the data and getting what it can. Just going to take an hour or so to get done."

He pushed back his chair from the desk and Estelle noticed he kept himself in good shape for a techie. "Do you want to come back in an hour or so and see if it's ready?" Another smile. "I was going to get some tea from the officer's lounge if you wanted to join me..."

[Estelle Russard]

"Tea?" a smile broadened across her face, "I'd kill for a good tea" she announced. Santiago arched a brow, clearly no killing would be required but the idea of this girl being so violent was surprising.

Ugh, she'd sounded too eager, and Estelle feared he might take it the wrong way, thinking that she was eager to have tea with him. Which, technically, wouldn't really be wrong, the idea of having tea with him was quite pleasing, but she didn't want him to think that's what she meant. He was very handsome.
He was watching her curiously, and Estelle squirmed a little.

"I mean...I could really use a good cup of tea" she corrected, waving her hand airily in an off the cuff-ish manner. Which was even more lame than the over-excited killing comment.

She ended by compressing her lips together once again in an effort to shut herself up.

"Tea it is then" Cristobal said.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Spy #2 - Cowboy

"Trey, good t'see ya pal." Kazaar strode up th'ramp of The Flying Dutchman, a trail o'smoke followin' him. 'Trey', th'former bounty hunter's R7 droid, *twittered* o'greetin' then spun back into th'interior of th'ship. With all th'running 'round Kazaar'd been doin' th'last month he hadn't seen his ship in ages'n it was gettin' pretty frackin' annoying. Damned Imps and their plots. Damned Rebs'n their BlackOps.

Kazaar's right shoulder still hurt from where he'd been shot. Didn't even know it 'ntil th'nurse pointed it out when he'd taken Birdie t'get patched up. Kazaar's simply shrugged at th'news like it was nothin', 'course when th'adrenaline'd worn off it'd felt a helluva lot worse. Force 'im t'take a dip inna bacta tank and Kazaar frackin' hated those damn things. Always left 'im with a taste in 'is mouth which took 'bout five cigars t'get rid of. Kazaar was currently on cigar number two.

Hadn't seen either th'Kid or Birdie since they'd gotten off th'frigate either. k'Vik was gettin' ready t'be interviewed by some hotshot analyst, while th'Kid was takin' the data they'd grabbed from Spindler to th'Analysis department for those eggheads t'look over. He knew couple o'guys over there...some of 'em were too smart f'their own good. Others were just plain assholes.

Kazaar took o'puff offa his cigar'n grinned. Was nice t'be sittin' in his ship 'gain. Even if it was docked onna Rebel ship that could be attacked at any moment. Even th'Brentaal-raised Alderaanian 'preciated th'irony. No such thing as true safety...'less ya were in th'frackin' grave.

His communications station suddenly *chirped* one. Damned Gorgja, ya frackin' know it ain't a good time t'be talkin'. Not after th'crap ya pulled. But it wasn't Gorgja. Instead th'message was just a buncha numbers'n randomly placed letters.

N1z11h. D2 k22w f6 l33f. D3mm x4kf1xf m1f3h...

What...the...frack?

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Spy #3 - Songbird

Milivikal k'Vik ached. The Dark Trooper had broken five ribs. Broken ribs combined with her return to the deck had caused some minor internal bleeding. She should have been off her feet, the medic said. Her bones had been glued back together, and would fully heal in a weeks time. The internal tearing had been soothed with bacta, and was healed.

“Including running?” Milivikal said with a frown. Some of her color had returned, although the left side of her face was purplish, along with several other parts of her otherwise pale body.

“Especially activities like running. I'm amazed you were on your feet at all.” The medic said, knowing full well that she would likely end up running before a week was up.

“I shall do my best to not run.” She said, and did not sound certain or hopeful.

“Field agents.” The Mon Cal nurse said with a sigh. Milivikal grinned slightly, and delicately pulled her shirt and jacket back on. Both smelled fresh. All of her clothes did. She held her breath, eyes wide, near panic as she dug through her jacket pocket for the small soft bag. It was there, and so was the polished stone. k'Vik finished dressing, pulling her belt on.

“Is something the matter?” The nurse asked.

“No, all is well.” k'Vik replied with a soft smile, and released her the gem and it's bag back into the pocket.

“Oh, an officer left this pad for you. The rest of your equipment is in a locker.” The nurse passed a pad and a locker key to Milivikal. She held the pad for a moment, and then turned it on. The instructions were simple: head to Conference Room K as soon as possible. She walked to the locker at a cautious pace, mindful of her soreness. A glimpse at the polished floor confirmed it: she looked nearly as bad as she felt. She pulled on the weapons belt, complete with blaster, comm, and other miscellaneous equipment. The DH-17's weight against her right thigh was reassuring, and she ran her finger along the back edge of the grip. The belt needed to be balanced, Mili thought.

[The Black Man]

Spy #4 - The Black Man

Mon Calamari

"Repeat your last statement again, Mister Cambyses." The watery voice of the Mon Calamari asked again.

'The Black Man' leaned forward in his chair, ignoring his lack of sleep, "There is a plot against the Council. You." He pointed at all four people in front of him. "Are in danger."

"We're all in danger." The councilman from Chandrila, Kameis Sallian, scoffed. "The Empire could burst in here at any moment and kill all of us."

"That's highly unlikely." Mon Razien answered with a wave of his hand. "But I appreciate your apprehension Councilman Sallian. But I agree, we must keep this meeting short. Tills will only let us meet for so long."

The other three politicians nodded and Othniel/Cambyses agreed with them. The longer he stayed here, the greater the chance they could all be caught and executed. It was why there were four council members at the meeting and not the entire group. To keep secrecy to a maximum, the Alliance moved their meetings from place to place. Sometimes meeting in lavish hotel rooms overlooking the Mon Calamari sea. Other times a dark cantina on the Quarren side of the planet. Today was the former.

"How did you come about his information, Director Cambyses?" Razien asked.

'Othniel' handed them the datacard with some of the information Lessard had found from the communication console. "You can see here, the Imperials are discussing a new plan."

Sallian scoffed again. "And where did you get that information Director? From your 'vaunted' Imperial sources."

The Black Man's face remained passive. "That information is classified."

"Oh of course it is!" Sallian pressed further and rubbed a hand against his beard. "All your information is 'classified'. You won't even bother telling us how you have all the information you have or what your job for the Empire was before you came to us."

"That was an agreement Mon Mothma and Crix Madine agreed to." 'Othniel' bristled. "A pact Mon Razien has decided to keep. Despite your opposition."

The Chandrila representative locked gazes with the Director of Rebel SpecOps. "I don't like putting my life in the hands of someone who won't bother telling us his real name. What other secrets are you hiding Director?"

"Are you questioning Director Cambyses ability to lead, Representative Sallian?" Tukphen from Mon Calamari asked.

"No. Just his trustworthiness. For all we know he's the one plotting to take us over." Sallian acted as if The Black Man weren't in the room. "I would rather we have someone we know running Special Operations. Not someone who is so secretive."

"So that's your argument then Councilman?" Razien asked. "You simply want someone you know." Sallian nodded. "Very well. I'll take it into advisement. Meeting adjourned. We'll meet again in two days."

Razien motioned for 'Othniel' to follow him out of the grand hall. It was obvious their conversation was far from over.

[Santiago Cristobal]

"So then." Cristobal poured Estelle another tea. "The Barabel says to the Wookie, 'why didn't you bring the net?' They were so busy arguing, I slipped out the back."

Estelle smiled at the story. She hadn't realized Santiago had been a field agent before moving into Analysis. As her partner had said numerous times, "Those eggheads sure as hell don't know what th'frack th'real world's' like. All busy in their frackin' data." This one seemed different though. She smiled again before realizing Santiago had asked her a question.

"I'm sorry." She tried not to blush. "What did you say?"

Santiago grinned. "I was asking if you liked your tea. It's a blend I made myself. Well." Santiago smiled in slight embarassment. "I got help from a very nice Mon Calamari trader but it's mainly a mixture of leaves I put together myself. Do you like it?"

[Estelle Russard]

She liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"Its nice." she said. "Tea has got to be one of the great discoveries of the ancient age" she added, though she could have kicked herself for doing so...of the ancient age? Good grief..

Cristobal held a smile for a moment, as if he might say something but thought better of it. Instead, he said simply, "I agree"

"Ive yet to perfect the art of brewing it though" Estelle pressed onward, strangely desirous to keep the chit-chat going. "I think I am too impatient, I cant ever seem to wait the appropriate moments for the leaves to steep."

[Santiago Cristobal]

"It's not as hard as you think it." Cristobal's eyes crinkled again with his smile. "What you do is add a bit of sohli bark (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Sohli_bark) for flavor. It's quite tasty and tends to balance out some of the sweetness. But you only use a pinch of it. Using any more would cause the tea to turn bitter."

Santiago finished off his tea. "It's a balancing act, but if you practice, you can get it right."

Estelle nodded letting her mind process what Santiago was saying. It made sense, balancing things out and it might relax Kazaar a bit. She shuttled that thought with a hint of a smile. No, Kazaar was as steady as a gundark. And as stubborn. "How'd you become an analyst after being an operative?"

Another handsome smile. "Got bored with going out into the cold every single day. Plus I got shot on Socorro once when one of my contacts betrayed me." His expression flitted toward darkness for a second before settling. Santiago smiled again. "Also wanted to have more of a 'real life' than I did. The action is fun (and I've been known to take an operation or two every so often) but I enjoy being behind the keyboard looking at data."

The Analyst topped off Estelle's cup and poured the rest into his. "Why'd you become an operative?"

[Estelle Russard]

"Oh, its a long story" she said dismissively, "And boring."

Estelle immediately felt a stab of regret for saying that. It was belittling to James's memory and she had not meant it so. She just did not wish to divulge anything quite so personal as the loss of someone dear her as being the catalyst for her opening her eyes to the sinister nature of the Empire around her.

She shrugged, at a loss how to correct things.

"I understand" Cristobal said with an empathy that made Estelle look up at him.


Did he really...? Was she that transparent? She would really have to work on her acting skills...

"I--er, anyway, I dont mind the cold" she said at last.

[Santiago Cristobal]

"The cold's good for those who can handle it." Santiago gave a mysterious smile, as if a thought suddenly came to his head. "What was his name?"

"Hmm?"

The smile stayed on the Sub-Director of Analysis. "The person you lost. What was his name? Did you ever find out what happened to him?"

[Estelle Russard]

"James" she spoke his name quietly, remembering.

Yes, she knew what happened to him. A brand new Rebel recruit, killed by Imperial forces. He hadn't even got the chance to make a difference.

It seemed a lifetime ago now.

"Killed in action" she said simply.

[Santiago Cristobal]

"I'm sorry." Santiago answered, placing a hand on her arm for a brief moment before removing it. "It's always tough losing someone close to you."

Estelle's eyes raised towards his. "You?"

Cristobal gave a solemn nod. "My wife...on Bilbringi. She was working for the shipyards there when Palpatine decided to make an 'example' of a group of workers who were protesting a wage decrease. She wasn't a part of it, but they cut her down anyway." He gritted his teeth. "She shouldn't have been there...but she was."

His eyes took a faraway look. "I came here shortly afterwards. Seems such a long time ago..."

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle felt sad for Santiago's loss and expressed as much. A companionable quiet then settled on them for a moment and Estelle sipped her tea. It really was very good.

"Do you think there is much of value on the datadisk?" she asked after a while, turning the subject to the safer topic of work.

[Santiago Cristobal]

"I certainly hope so." Cristobal answered thoughtfully. "I'm sure you risked your life to get whatever information is on there. It would have been terrible if you risked it for nothing." He let Estelle interpret it however she wanted it to.

It looked like he was about to say something else, when his watch beeped. His eyes held a brief gaze into Estelle's before his flickered them down to the watch. "It looks like we should have that information by now. We can finish our tea before going and seeing what you got for us."

The two smiled again as they sipped their tea once more.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar frackin' hated codes. They were troublesome'n took up a ton o'time. He understood why they were used, wasn't like ya were gonna tell th'Imps 'Hey we're gonna go attack Coruscant', but 'least ya could make 'em a little less complicated. 'Course, he admitted, if ya did make 'em less complicated it'd make 'em that much easier t'decode. Still annoyed th'hell outta 'im.

His black eyes narrowed at th'message he'd been given: N1z11h. D2 k22w f6 l33f. D3mm x4kf1xf m1f3h...

Made no frackin' sense. Whoever wrote this was trying t'be real cute or real cautious. Or, Kazaar smirked, both at th'same time. Sure as hell didn't make his job any easier, 'specially if what he was starin' at wasn't someone's idea ovva joke.

"'ey Trey. Get over 'ere." Th'R7 droid *twittered* to himself as it rolled to th'communications console. "This thing make any sense t'ya?"

'Trey' gave two *blits* anna *blat* as its oculator scanned th'message.

"Yeh I know, makes no Force-damned sense t'me either." Kazaar snorted. "Guess that rules out it bein' some kinda 'droid speak'. No that wasn't an insult, what th'frack's th'matter with ya? I know a couple spies who only talk in droid. And it ain't that droidspeak crap o'yas either."

Th'former bounty hunter smirked at th'R7 droid's response. "Yeh yeh. Makes a helluva lot more sense to ya than what's comin' outta my mouth. Frackin' droid...th'frack would I do without ya?"

Neither bothered t'answer that, they were too busy starin' at th'string o'numbers'n letters.

N1z11h. D2 k22w f6 l33f. D3mm x4kf1xf m1f3h...

Gotta be somethin'...Kazaar rolled 'is eyes. Frackin' course. He'd started t'recognized th'old code now. Thing dated all th'way back to th'Republic. Frackin' old ass code.

1 = A

Z = Z

B = Y

If that were th'case then N1z11h would mean...Kazaar grabbed o'piece of durasheet'n started writing. He frackin's hated codes.

[Cavalier]

A woman was waiting for Milivikal as she entered into the interview room. Her face was drawn and she had watery eyes which seemed to glisten in the lower light. She wore a Rebel soldier's uniform, which deemphasized her bust, and she appeared to be unarmed. On the table next to her was a durasteel briefcase and a glass of water.

"Hello Miss Gray, correct?" She stated succinctly. "My name is Jane Starborn. Have a seat. Let's discuss what you know..."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal frowned, but said nothing. Jane looked... average. Jane's body was on the slim side. Brown hair, hazel eyes. Generic Human Female. Milivikal sat slowly, careful of her bruises.

"...about Mr. Byl Laprovik." Starborn said. Milivikal raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Her mood was foul. She wanted nothing more than to take painkillers and sleep.

"He is a cold bastard." Milivikal said, matter-of-factly. She stared, unblinking. Starborn paused, and set her jaw. Starborn looked at her datapad, and back at Milivikal. The right side of the woman's face was purplish, and slightly swollen. Mili's eyes narrowed slightly.

"I understand you just returned from a mission, and were injured. I'd like to start at the beggining. Mr. Laprovik is missing."

"Oh." Milivikal didn't sound surprised.

"We're concerned, because he didn't dissapear from Coruscant. If you could go over details of what you know about him, or possibly where he's gone..."

"Laprovik is good at his job. Professional. I am certain he has good reasons." Mili replied.

"I see that you worked with him on Coruscant."

"For six weeks." Mili stated. "None of this is on the file?" She asked

"Everything related to you has been classified top secret. All it says was that you were a contact on Coruscant." Starborn explained. Milivikal blinked.
"What did you do in those six weeks?"

"I listened to Imperial windbags in bars and lounges." Mili said with disdain.

"I see. It says here that you have perfect auditory recall." Jane stated.

"Yes."

Jane paused. Milivikal was borderline uncooperative. The woman's swollen lip curled upward slightly. Was k'Vik playing games with her?

"Miss Gray, I'd like to complete this quickly and if you aren't going to be coopera..." Starborn's voice dissapeard.

Mili cut her off. "I care not a whit. I have five broken ribs. My head hurts. You pester me with questions about Laprovik, who is missing. So what?"

[Cavalier]

'Starborn' let her face show concern at the apparent lack of care from k'Vik. "It does matter." The fake Rebel dug her hands into her chair. "Byl Laprovik was an important part to our operations on Coruscant. It's imperative we know where he went and what he's doing.

"He was looking for Director R.S. Esalis and the exo-anthropologist Erasmus Karrnage correct? Running an operation against them?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal blinked, and shook her head. Surely Starborn had some real information rather than hearsay. Mili placed her hands in her lap, and straightened.

"No. Karnage was of interest to Loklorien s'Ilancy. Esalis was not a priority at the time. The fact that it likely irritated Esalis was a bonus."

"Loklorien s'Ilancy?" Starborn asked.

"A Lupine." Mili said.

"A what?"

"Lupine. A nearly extinct shapeshifting humanoid species. One of Karnage's perfered subjects of study."

"It says here that she's an attache for General Dan." Starborn reviewed her notes.

"I know him not."

"He's one of the Outer Rim commanders."

Milivikal shrugged. "So who sent you on this scent?" She glared at Starborn.

"Excuse me?"

"Who has you chasing tails, Starborn?" Milivikal licked her lips.

"Well thats..." Starborn's eyes were wide. Was Gray crazy?

"I am under no obligation to anyone. Indulge me."

Starborn looked perplexed. The air seemed to hum."We're all working for the same people. Belargic."

"Oh. Ah. Yes." Milivikal relaxed back into the chair. "Have you inquired with Eluna Thals?" The hum grew louder.

"No..." Starborn picked up the data pad, and started thumbing through it with her left hand while the right moved idly. She closed her eyes to blink. Her eyes opened. k'Vik was in mid-motion, leaned forward, left hand closed around a dagger. Starborn recoiled reflexively, but it only gave her an inch before the blade slid through the hand and table. The hum stopped.

"Ow." Starborn said awkwardly. How had Gray moved that fast? Starborn grabbed at the dagger to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge. Milivikal pushed the table, and Starborn, over. Starborn cried out when the table landed on her ribs.

"They did not brief you about me?" Mili asked, her face feral. She walked around to Starborn's side of the table.

"What are you talking about?" Jane said, frantic. Gray was crazy. Pinned behind the desk, Jane could not see the door slide open, nor did she notice the change in light.

"Your handlers." Milivikal tilted her head slightly.

"Everything on you is Top Secret! Belargic sent me to..."

"You lie." The sentence hissed lightning and crashed thunder. Starborn's mind raced. She reached out to grab Milivikal by the ankle. She heard a hum. It had a different pitch this time. Starborn's fingers touched cloth. She grasped. Milivikal's leg moved back and up. Her knee leveled with her hip. Her hands curled into fists and leveled with her head. Her lips curled back. Her boot came down. Starborn screamed. Most of the bones in her hand broke with a rapid series of cracks and snaps. Starborn pulled her shattered hand back reflexively, and Milivikal let her. She took a step back.

The entire deck had heard Starborn scream. Partly because Milivikal had opened the door, and partly because she amplified the sound. A security officer barged in half a minute later, blaster drawn. k'Vik looked distant. She took another step back, and raised her hands even with her shoulders.

"She's fucking crazy!" Not-Starborn screamed.

"Agent, you'd better have a good explanation." He pointed the blaster at k'Vik. The other woman wasn't likely to move.

"That is an Imperial spy." k'Vik said with contempt, her icy eyes stared down into blurred brown ones. The Mon Cal fumbled for his comm. He kept his eyes on Mili.

"I need a security team to Deck 8, Section B."

[Cavalier]

'Starborn' started crying. "This wasn't supposed to be like this..."

Her disjointed mind was still racing as she tried to figure out what the hell just happened. She had been given a small brief on k'Vik, but mainly that she was someone who couldn't be manipulated but the promise of her lightsaber might convince her to be a little forthcoming. The problem was, the conversation hadn't gone that far. k'Vik had been too quick for 'Starborn's' mind. And that's what failed her. Now...she needed Rebel help.

"She's crazy.She's crazy.She's crazeeeeeeee." The Imperial spy tried to speak but found the words weren't coming out of her mouth. Instead, they just wrapped themselves around her head and blotted out everything else. She didn't know who else was in the room...were there people? Were the loathsome Rebels now coming to her aid?

She raised her head towards the horrid Rebels. But her eyes were so full of tears she couldn't focus. All the while the words kept swirling in her head.

"She's crazeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

'Starborn' screamed again.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was busy tryin' t'figure out what th'frack that damn code was, when th'alarm went off.

"Security to Deck 8. Section B!"

Kazaar smirked. 'Least he had somethin' t'break th'frackin' monotony o'code breakin'. Grabbin' his personal shield unit, Kazaar headed for th'Dutchman's boarding ramp. "Keep workin' on that code 'Trey'. Gonna go check out th'alarm."

'The Twins' were strapped on 'is legs as th'former bounty hunter sauntered through th'Hope f'Change (what kinda o'name was that anyway? How 'bout actually makin' change 'stead of just hopin' f'it). Buncha security guys were runnin' 'round like Ewoks with their heads cut off, but 'least they knew what they were doin'. Kazaar smirked. Always figured th'smartest of th'Empire's finest went t'work for th'Rebellion.

Kazaar's trip t'Deck 8 was pretty quick but slowed down on he got t'Section 7. Security team'd actually set up a frackin' perimeter 'round Section 8. Two security squads were guardin' th'lift and woulda kept th'Rebel spy from goin' where he needed t'go, if Kazaar hadn't given 'em a dark glare.

"Th'frack's goin' on?" He asked a Mon Calamari soldier who was standin' outside th'entrance to Section 8.

"There was a problem with an interview." Th'Calamari's voice blubbered like it was inna fish bowl. "An interviewee attacked an interviewer."

Kazaar smirked. "That a fact. Wanna tell me what else's goin' on?"

"It's a strange case." Calamari still hadn't asked f'ID. Must've figured Kazaar was off-duty when th'thing happened. "What Halabis told me was someone named 'Gray' attacked someone named 'Starborn'...wait where are you!"

Kazaar was runnin' down th'hallways, ignorin' th'calls t'stop. He rounded o'corner and burst into th'interview room. "Birdy what th'frack's goin' on?"

Milivikal's face was pretty calm forra dame who was starin' down a buncha blasters. "Tis not Starborn. Tis an Imperial." Th'words seemed t'snarl outta 'er mouth.

'Starborn' was sayin' somethin' but Kazaar couldn't hear it. Hell, no one else prob'ly could either. He turned to th'head security guy. "Ya gotta pic o'what Starborn looks like?"

Th'Mon Calamari motioned him to o'small computer console in th'observation room. Kazaar keyed in th'name Starborn an' got a few entries. None of 'em looked like th'dame Birdy currently had screamin' in th'room. "Ain't her." Kazaar smirked.

"What should we do?"

Kazaar coulda smacked th'guy. "Cancel th'damn security alert ya frackin' moron. An' let Birdy'n me finish up with 'er. Find out who she really is."

Th'Mon Calamari's mouth opened, then closed. Seemed like he was gonna ask Kazaar who th'frack he was, but decided not to. Prob'ly figured he was o'spook 'er something. Pretty much.

Th'security exited outta th'room, leavin' k'Vik an' Kazaar alone with 'Starborn'.

Kazaar's smirk turned into o'snarl. "Wanna pick up where ya were left off Birdy?"

[Santiago Cristobal]

"Should we be worried about the security alert?" Estelle asked as she and Santiago walked back to his office.

Cristobal smiled. "The advantage of being an analyst, Estelle. Is not worrying about security alerts. Doesn't mean you don't keep an open eye. But we don't have to run into everything with blasters blazing."

"Must be nice." The Senior Operative commented.

That illicited another smile and Estelle couldn't help but smile herself. "It is."

When they reached the acting Sub-Director of Analysis' office, Cristobal slid behind his desk and motioned Estelle to take a seat behind him. His hands danced over the keyboard with almost grace as he brought up the analyzed data.

Cristobal's dark green eyes crinkled as he brought up the data on two of his screens. "This is the data you got." He pointed at the screen on the left. And this..." His finger switched to the right screen. "Is the other data.

"You can see it's not complete but I definitely see similarities...maybe a conversation" He paused as he brought two sentences together.

------ --tting rea-- to ho-- group fr-m ---s-. --ll b- vulner---.

Ma-- su-- th- a--a-i- can tak- - sh-t Ha--is--.

Cristobal glanced at Estelle. "That doesn't look good."

"No it doesn't." Estelle answered, her face twisted in a concerned look. Santiago thought her face looked nice regardless what look was on it. "Do you have anything else on there?"

"Hmm..." More taps on the keyboard. "Let me see."

The Analyst brought up a three more sentences.

G-tt-ng itc-y. H- won-- b- a-ou-d mu-h lon--r.

Has Thom-do--ir go- th- M--st ass-ss-- r-ady?

Yes. B- re-dy t- m-ve.

"Does anything there look familiar to you?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle would like to think it was the distraction of having to sit docile while security alarms had been sounded off around them that was resulting in the code making little sense to her, but she knew better. Coding had been neither her own, nor her partner Aurelias's forte' and that truth was quite evident as her frown deepened while searching the screen.

"Bout the only thing that makes sense is that there" she pointed to the second last line, "--it mentions Thomsdottir being ready..?"

"We assume it to be a person as no place comes up on our radar under that name" she confided.

[Santiago Cristobal]

"Hmm..." Santiago seemed a hesitant to go on pure speculation. Although most of their job was just speculation. He moved his hands on the keyboard, calling up the Rebel database on operatives and soldiers.

Forty seconds later, they had their answer.

"There are four Thomsdottirs in the Alliance." Cristobal's eyes narrowed and his voice changed to a classic 'analyst's' voice. "This one." He brought up a picture of an older man, with massive cheek jowls, a shaved head, and dull blue eyes. "Is Wayneright Thomsdottir. He's one of General Parks main lieutenants in military intelligence. I've never met him but he's currently stationed on Sullust. Good access to information. His two sons: Cary and Paxton are also stationed with him."

Estelle leaned foward and glanced at the information. All three did have good access to information but it didn't seem 'right' for some reason. She still asked Santiago to get her a copy of their files. "What about the fourth?"

"The fourth." Cristobal brought up an image of a woman in her late 20s, with strikingly beautiful white hair, high cheekbones, and green eyes. "Is Marie Thomsdottir. She's been with us for about four years. We came in together actually. Misha Repin recruited us. She's got good access to information too, but...I don't know.

"None of these seem right to me. What do you think?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal looked up at Kazaar slowly. Milivikal had no intention of interrogating someone. She reached down and placed her hand around the dagger's hilt. She gave it a yank, and it pulled free from the wood and the woman's hand.

"And do what? Her foot is crushed. She will need medical attention, or she will die." Mili explained. Kazaar poked the woman's boot with his foot. She howled.

"Allright." He said, and pushed the table off "Starborn." Milivikal wiped her blade on the edge of the table while Kazaar picked up the dazed woman.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked between sobs.

"Medbay. Gray says you need it, and I ain't keen on arguin' with her." Behind him, Milivikal smirked.

Once at the medbay, the reception droid greeted them.

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

"Stab wound, right hand. Crushed left foot." Milivikal explained.

"Crushed?" The droid asked.

"Crushed flat." Milivikal added.

"I am paging the staff. A doctor will be here shortly. Please put her on the nearest empty bed." Kazaar looked over his shoulder. There was a narrow wheeled bed. They were cheaper than repulsorbeds, and worked well enough.

[Cavalier]

"Starborn" continued to glance around as if she wasn't quite hearing or understanding everything. She knew something was wrong but couldn't figure out what was going on. Her head was spinning and she wasn't sure where she was.

Her mind drifted back to primal instincts and her training.

When captured. Escape. If you cannot escape do not allow them to interrogate you..

She had a choice...and she took it.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Krasst." Kazaar swore as th'Imp's face suddenly went white, then blue. Damned Imp decided t'take th'easy way out. Normally, he wouldn't' givva frack 'bout an Imp committin' suicide, a dead Imp was o'dead Imp. But with all th'plottin' and schemin' going 'round, it was easier t'know why th'hell she'd decided t'smuggle 'erself into th'meeting.

Lotta frackin' unanswered questions goin' 'round. Kazaar had t'smirk as th'Imp went still and 'er vital signs crashed.

"If she wanted t'die. I coulda just frackin' shot 'er."

[The Black Man]

Mon Calamari

'The Black Man' and Razien walked down three flights of stairs before exiting onto a large sky bridge between two of the floating city's buildings. Both Rebels were impressed by the size and scope of the city and the uniqueness of the buildings themselves. The buildings were made in an almost coral-like fashion, with the occasional outcropping which at first seemed out of place, then made perfect sense as the rest of the structure was revealed. Everything had its purpose. And that was what 'Othniel' appreciated the most.

"How serious is the threat?" Razien asked once they came to the other side of the bridge.

"Very." Othniel's eyes kept a look out for any hidden danger, even if there was none. "The Empire didn't hastily throw this operation together. From what I gather, they've been planning this ever since you took the reigns of the Alliance after Mon Mothma's death."

Razien did his best to keep his face stoic. He'd known the danger from the beginning, when he first joined the Alliance and was taken under the Mothma's wing. Everyone was a traitor one way or another. Now the danger was becoming even more apparent. "What do you suggest?"

"Cancel your meetings. Wait until I call for you."

Razien shook his head. "I can't do that Cambyses. These are important meetings."

"Send someone in your stead Razien. Someone who can act as you."

The Chief of State gave a soothing smile. "You know I cannot do that. Some negotitations have to be done by me. We all know the risks. Especially me."

'Othniel/Cambyses' nodded. "Very well. I'll keep your informed. And we'll be on the look out for Secretary Harrison as well. I hear he's missing."

"It's not like Walt to disappear without notice. Keep me informed."

The Director's comlink suddenly *chirped*. "Yes."

"We need you to return to the Hope for Change. We have a dead gronk on board. Gray and Blonde are connected."

"Very well. I will return shortly." 'Othniel' nodded his farewell to Razien and headed back to the starport. Minutes later he was in the atmosphere headed back to a world he enjoyed much more than playing politics.

[Estelle Russard]

"None of these seem right to me. What do you think?"

Estelle didn't look up, but instead she remained fixed on the screen before her, "We will look at all of them" she said decisively and a certain coldness crept into her voice, "As of now, they are under the strongest suspicion as being toxic. Needless to say that this remains Priority-Black Classified." Santiago noted with irony that she had said it anyway, and quite pointedly.

[Santiago Cristobal]

"Of course." Santiago agreed, despite Estelle's strange ability to sound like her boss. "We'll need two teams. The Black Man can probably help with the other team."

He glanced up and smiled. "When do we go?"

"Y-you?" Estelle seemed almost taken aback by Cristobal's offer. But she covered it well and looked quite cute doing so.

"Why not?" He smiled. "I have field experience and I do like going out from time to time. It could be fun to be out in the field again.

"If." Another smile. "You'll have me of course."

[The Black Man]

Before Estelle could answer, her comlink chimed. She gave an almost embarrassed smile and took a step or two back. "This is Russard."

"Agent." 'Othniel's' deep voice rumbled. "Status report."

"Agent Cristobal and I have made a little progress on the messages." She answered honestly. "The name 'Thomsdottir' keeps popping up. I was going to investigate it."

"There are four Thomsdottirs in the fleet." Estelle somehow wasn't surprised 'The Black Man' knew that. "Who would you like to track down?"

[Estelle Russard]

If the decision were hers, she'd have Cristobal along in a heartbeat - but given the motives for wanting him there, Estelle thought it probably just as well she didn't get to make the choice. Was it warm in this room all a sudden?

"I'll be in touch" she said evasively and disconnecting from Othniel moved to leave. Santiago stood close bringing them to stand toe-to-toe. Russard felt suddenly awkward and gangly and had no place to put her hands. She stuffed them into her pockets for lack of options.

"Good then" he grinned down at her, understanding that their meeting was ajourned.

"Thanks for your help" she said, willing her feet to move but they felt like lead and her mouth had gone dry.

"Was there something else?" He asked, his grin broadening a little further.

"What? No. Thanks. Best be off" she hadn't moved, for some stupid reason she couldn't. Her mind was whirring to think of some parting comment to say, something witty, but none was forthcoming. Hm, he smelled good and she couldn't be sure, but were they freckles beneath his eyes? There was an annoying beep coming from somewhere.

"You gonna respond to that?" Santigo broke into her thoughts.

"Hm?" she blinked.

"Your comm. You should answer it - might be your boss."

It took another blink before Russard woke up. She pulled her comm up and opened it.

"Where th'frack are ya an' whats takin'---?"

Estelle shut it off quickly, cutting her partner's abrasive tirade in half.

"Gotta go. Thanks again for this" she gestured to the data screens with a wave.

Russard left the Communications Hub and quickstepped it to join up with her partner and Mili. Sadly, she realized, she'd failed to come up with anything memorable to say as she'd left Cristobal standing, watching after her. After a time, her thoughts turned back to purpose again and she wondered what the earlier alarms had been all about.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Th'frack was that allah 'bout." Kazaar glared at th'comlink.

"What?" Milivikal quirked a thin eyebrow towards him, as they sat in the small private office.

Kazaar shook 'is head. "Kid shut off th'comm before I could finish m'sentence." He tried it again, this time gettin' nothin' at all.

Frackin' hell. Bad 'nough Othy'd called b'fore demanding t'know what th'hell'd gone on between Birdy'n 'Starborn'. When Kazaar explained it, he only heard a muffled 'Ah' 'n no frackin' explanation after that. Frackin' black ops. Now th'Kid was actin' all goofy, like she's swallowed a buncha o'marbles're something 'n wasn't able t'act th'way she was supposed to. Frackin' dames. Never could figure 'em out.

"Perhaps she was unable to speak."

That gotta snort. "Then why th'frack do ya answer th'damn comm? If ya can't talk then don't frackin' answer." Th'Rebel agent stuck a cigar in 'is mouth'n took a puff. "Frackin' dames."

He shook 'is head. "Ya don't make any frackin' sense t'me."

[The Black Man]

The office doors swished open before Milivikal could answer, letting a very annoyed 'Othniel' enter.

"'ey Othy." He could see Kazaar's smirk through the cigar smoke. "Decide t'come from ya little powwow t'join--"

"Quiet Kazaar." The Black Man's eyes were about as narrowed as they could get. "I want to know what happened during k'Vik's meeting with Starborn."

"Pretty frackin' simple Othy." It was Kazaar again who spoke, a lazy smile on his face. "Starborn, wasn't Starborn. Some Imperial agent who tried t'take o'shot at Birdy, but got snuffed instead. Birdy kept 'er cool. Almost got 'er head blown off by a buncha trigger happy Rebs who thought she was th'bad guy. C'mon, Othy, ya can't fault Birdy f'that."

"Then why is 'Starborn' dead?"

Again Kazaar. "Killed 'erself. Got some kinda fake tooth with poison innit. What ya shocked by that? Didn't think 'bout givin' it t'ya agents now are ya?"

"No. We just disavow them. Especially the loose cannons." Kazaar smirked at 'The Black Man's' joke.

"Cute. Real frackin' cute."

'The Black Man' turned towards Milivikal, who had remained quiet during the exchange, watching both with interest. "You agree with Agent Kazaar's assessment?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle entered the room unobtrusively behind the Black Man, tuning into the tail end of the conversation. She hadn't heard Kazaar's assessment but assumed correctly they had been speaking of the reason for the earlier alarms.

Standing just a little behind Othniel she waited for Mili to put voice to her take on things, hoping to be brought quickly up to speed.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

k'Vik lips had pulled into a slight grin as Othniel got the better of Kazaar.

"I had no idea the Imperials put poisons in a false tooth." She looked at both with a slight tilt, curious. Kazaar grunted

"Not-Starborn's information was... inconsistent." Milivikal added. "Her recall was in the order learned, not in the order of events. Her motivation felt dishonest, and guarded. I poked and prodded till she fell apart. Verbally."

"On the whole, Kazaar is correct."

[The Black Man]

It was Othniel's turn to grunt, as if he wasn't used to someone admitting Kazaar was 'right'.

"See Othy." The Rebel agent's smirk was larger than before. "Told ya."

"Of course you did." The Black Man answered turning towards Estelle. "Agent Russard. Have you decided which Thomsdottir you will track down."

"Yes sir." Miss Blue answered. "I'll go to Mrlsst after Marie Thomsdottir."

"Great." Kazaar answered. "When do we leave?"

Estelle felt her cheeks reddening. "You...don't Aurelias." She hurried on without giving him the chance to protest. "I want you to go to Sullust to meet with Wayneright Thomsdottir."

Kazaar's eyes narrowed into slits. "Ya gotta be frackin' kidding me, Kid. Ya're goin' t'Mrlsst with those frackin' Birdheads an' ya aren't lettin' me go with ya? 'Least tell me you're takin' Birdy with ya."

Estelle's cheeks reddened a bit more and Kazaar caught on. "Oh ya gotta be frackin' kiddin' me. Who th'hell's comin' with ya?"

"Santiago Cristobal." 'Othniel' answered, keeping Estelle from having to make the decision.

"Ya gotta be frackin' kiddin' me! That frackin'....analyst?"

Now Othniel's eyes narrowed. "He was a solid operative Agent Kazaar."

"Was Othy." The former bounty hunter growled. "He frackin' was 'til he frackin' bailed out."

"Enough Agent." Othniel was getting tired of Kazaar's attitude. "You can spend the four weeks in the brig if you disagree with this."

"Ya frackin'--" For a moment it looked like Kazaar was going to hit the Director of SpecOps. Instead, he bit down hard on his cigar and stormed out. "Birdy, I'll be on th'Dutchman..." Smoke trailed him as he stormed out.

[Estelle Russard]

Kazaar created a small breeze as he stormed passed his partner and Estelle compressed her lips to stop herself from biting out some ill remark. Kazaar sometimes forgot that she had become, over time, quite an able operative and Estelle found it a little insulting.

She endeavored to bring some heat out of the room.

"What do you mean by the Not-Starborn? Did we have an imposter? Do I understand correctly that she is dead by her own hand?"

She had missed a great deal while analysing the stolen intel with Cristobal.

"Mili, are you ok?"

k'Vik was still recovering from her injuries from their last mission and Estelle was concerned for her.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"An impostor, yes." Milivikal looked up. She took a moment to think about how she felt. Her ribs ached, and she felt exhausted. The whole affair with Not-Starborn frustrated her. Suicide! She kept herself from grinding her teeth.

"I shall be well." She had felt the feelings roll off of Estelle in response to Santiago Cristobal. Mili felt a jealous twinge. Estelle nodded, concern obvious. But if Milivikal said she'd be well, she would be. Milivikal stood slowly, her gaze cool but not unfriendly. She walked to Estelle, and kissed her softly on the cheek.

"Be careful." She said, and walked away.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was waitin' f'Birdy as she slid into th'Dutchman's co-pilot seat, her nose filled with th'strong smell o'cigar smoke. "I frackin' hate BlackOps. Splittin' us up t'go track down multiple leads is one thing. But bringin' long that Force-damned analyst is an entirely different sarlacc pit."

k'Vik was lost in 'er thoughts an' didn't bother answerin' Cowboy. Both of 'em were thinkin' th'same thing, even if it were f'completely different reasons. Kazaar wasn't f'Cristobal's involvement 'cause he was a frackin' analyst. Sure he'd been an operative but he gave that up. Far as Kazaar was concerned, Cristobal was th'kinda guy who didn't givva damn 'bout going out'n gettin' his hands dirty anymore. So he didn't trust 'im.

Milivikal's worry of Santiago was how it'd affect her relationship with Estelle. Didn't know if Kazaar shared th'same worry, but had a feelin' somethin' more was gnawin' at 'im that he didn't give off. Men...

Kazaar smirked. Dames...

Frackin' goofy.

The Flying Dutchman became quiet as it exited the Hope For Change and entered hyperspace.

[Cavalier]

Hiding behind the grate, the figure listened as 'The Black Man' finished his discussion with Estelle. The figure hadn't been there very long, just making it through the ducts and too the vents after a raven-haired woman slipped out.

"What should we be looking for, sir?" Estelle asked after she rubbed her hand on her cheek.

"Anything. Talk to Cristobal. He knows Thomsdottir. Perhaps he can arrange a meeting."

Estelle nodded. "And the fake Starborn?"

"I'll handle that." He didn't other expounding on it. Another few words between agent and director and the figure was left staring at an empty room.

The figure smiled. 'Othniel' had taken the bait.