Aedile’s Office
Phantom Complex
Port Ol’val, Dajorra System
1930 Hours
“Issh - and I say this with all the love in the world - that is the worst idea. Ever.”
“Grrrwaaarrgh. Rarg warga agagh.” Despite the commlink’s age, the Wookiee’s growl was only slightly tinny.
“No, I don’t care how ‘lonely’ he’s been lately. It’s not happening.”
“Rwarrragh!”
“Why not? Are you kidding me? Because—”
A loud chirp interrupted the Kiffar, and he sighed internally at the intermission.
“One second, Issh,” Terran muttered, placing the call on hold.
He pressed a button set into the underside of his newly-decluttered desk and slid his hand towards the hold-out blaster affixed beside it. “Enter.”
The door slid open soundlessly and the Clan’s new Rollmaster strode in, a filefolder of datapads in one hand and an off-brand bottle of whiskey in the other. Frowning at the half-empty bottle, Terran let his hand slip from the hold-out blaster’s grip and nodded a greeting at the Ryn. At least he’s not drinking my private stock this time.
“How-how’ve things been on Port O-Ol— how have things been in port, Koul?”
“Well enough, Kord. Though I can’t imagine they’ll stay shiny for long.” The Aedile raised his hands and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s these damned re-recruits,” drawled the Ryn. “They’re d-driving me up a wall.”
“I sympathize,” replied the Jensaarai, “but I’m not sure how I can help with that. Unless you’re looking for a distraction — something to focus your mind?”
The Ryn paused for a moment, as if considering a particularly innovative painting for the first time. “Yes, something to focus my mind. Exactly.”
“Try this one on for size,” the Kiffar said, tossing Kordath a datapad from a neat stack on his desk.
The Rollmaster’s tail whipped out and coiled around the datapad, catching it in midair. He looked back and forth between the bottle and the file folder for a few seconds before finally, with an expression of long suffering, setting the whiskey on the deck and transferring the datapad to his hand. As the display came to life, his gray eyes scanned the text and the corners of his mouth twisted up in a slight smirk.
Power On
Analyzing Biometrics
Identity Confirmed
Loading Filesystem
Filesystem Loaded
Decrypting Files
Target: Capital City, Selen, Dajorra Sector
Assignment: Contacts within the Emperor’s Hammer’s Intelligence Directorate have passed us word that a pair of former operatives of theirs - now working for a rival organization - have infiltrated the bureaucracy in Selen’s capital city. Their exact positions within the government are unknown, but based on the recent leak of several classified civil defense plans, it’s believed they have access to a variety of sensitive information. The pair - a husband and wife - are both Force sensitives. Despite this, the husband is the only one with any degree of training in Sith ways - he was an Equite in the Hammer’s own Brotherhood before defecting. The wife, while only possessing rudimentary skill with the Force, is an expert in firearms, explosives and Stava. They should not be underestimated. Additional biographical details will be made available via the usual drop point on Selen.
Whatever their end goal - whether profit or martial in nature - it poses a serious risk to the integrity of Selen’s local government and of exposing the government’s relationship with the Clan. Your mission is to hunt down and eliminate the pair by any means necessary.
Closing File
Unmounting Filesystem
Filesystem Unmounted
Erasing
Erasure Complete
“Think you can handle it, Bleu?”
“No problem,” the Ryn replied, tossing the now-blank datapad back to Terran. Despite the liquor, his aim was true. Mostly.
“Very well. I’ll let the Commissioner know it’ll be sorted in short order.”
The Aedile nodded once more to Kordath, indicating that the meeting was over. Turning back towards the door, the Rollmaster paused briefly to retrieve his bottle of whiskey and stepped out into the hallway. Just before the doors whooshed shut, he heard a low growl that must have from the Aedile’s commlink. At least, I don’t think there was a Wookiee in there…
“Fine,” he heard Terran reply. “We’ll get Kolot a teddy bear. But you’re stuck cleaning it.”
