Chapter Three

"Kale, this was a great idea," Maris said. "My muscles feel like rubber. I haven't felt this relaxed since…well, ever."

They were sitting in lounge chairs next to a lake sparkling in the late-afternoon sunlight. The lake was probably artificial, but that didn't make the landscape any less breathtaking. Kale agreed with Maris completely. Comfort for the sake of comfort was not one of her trademarks, but after a deep tissue massage she realized that she might have been missing out. Their kind of lifestyle was incredibly rough on the body, and she wasn't getting any younger.

"I know Aryn was amazed that I thought like a female for once, but it's worth it. You haven't been yourself. You needed a break. We needed a break. All this espionage and smuggling and constant worrying does a number on you after a while." Seeing her sister smile—and she would always be her sister, blood or not—was a nice change. "As soon as Aryn gets here we'll force her into one of those massage booths."

"Sounds good."

They sat in sleepy silence for a few moments. Both had the proximity alarms primed on their helmets, so they wouldn't be taken by surprise if someone decided to sneak up on them.

"Kale?"

"Hmm?" she asked

"I know you've been skirting around it to spare my feelings, but can we please talk about why we're really here? I heard you making calls last night. I made some, too. And if Aryn didn't as well then I don't know my daughter."

Kale sat up a little straighter, sleepiness forgotten.

"I got in touch with an old friend who owns a speeder rental service. He hasn't worked here for more than three or four months, but he bought the business from someone who was here several years. That man kept good records, and when I asked my friend to run a search…he found one of Les's aliases."

Maris's posture didn't change, but something inside her snapped. Suddenly she wasn't on vacation anymore. She was a detective with an axe to grind, and she had a lead. "Which name did he use? How did he pay? What part of the planet is this on?"

"It's here in the Elshiol Grid, but it's a few cities over to the west—a place called Fredas. His identichip said Wes Randil. The first name was close enough that he would turn if someone called him, I guess. And I don't know his accounts by heart, but I think this number comes from Eriadu." She pulled her gauntlet out of a large satchel that contained her armor. Most of the tourists had given her and Maris odd looks for bringing such large bags to the lakeshore, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, her gauntlets were too handy to leave in a hotel room. She flipped open a small display screen and pulled up the information her friend had sent her.

Maris glanced over it quickly. "Yes, this is based off Eriadu, and that's odd. That bank account is supposed to be for emergencies only. We both used untraceable creds whenever we could, and when we couldn't, we used one of the accounts Aryn set up. You know, the ones that move around? The account number was always the same, but she had it on a program that moved it from bank to bank. It's brilliant. We should have her set you up with a couple." She looked at the report a moment longer. "Yes, this is strange. The Eriadu account is the only steady one. It's also the only legitimate one. That means that either he was dealing with the law and didn't want them to know about the other accounts…or that the other accounts were compromised."

"Would you have noticed if they were?" Kale asked.

Maris pursed her lips. "Maybe, maybe not. It would depend on who's looking for what. If someone were changing things we'd definitely notice. But if they were just watching, seeing where money was spent or how often we made transactions…I'd have to ask Aryn. Financial hacking is her forte."

"Okay, so we know something was off about the way Les spent money. What did you find out?" Kale asked.

Maris pursed her lips. "Not much. All I got was a name. Have you ever heard of anyone called Ludessa?"

"Ludessa?" Kale repeated. "Male or female?"

"Female Arkanian offshoot. Fled her homeworld for somewhere more hospitable to her type, though apparently she got the full Arkanian dose of snootiness."

"No surprise there."

"No one seems to know for sure who she works for … but I heard that she was with Les the last time someone saw him alive."

Kale sighed in frustration. "I just wish we knew what he came here to do. It would make it easier to find things out."

Maris sat thoughtfully for a moment, finger tapping on her lips. "I think Les got a job and got paid something up front for it. But somewhere along the way things went wrong. Les was pretty ethical for one of our bunch. He didn't kill if he could help it. Maybe he got conned into an assassination he couldn't go through with. Maybe he botched a job and was going to give the money back, and someone decided they would rather just kill him. Or maybe he got into gang activity, or mixed up with the pirates around the planet. It could have been an accident, but the more I'm finding out, the more I'm doubting that."

Kale shook her head. "Maris, I'm not following your train of thought. Spell it out for the simple pilot, please."

"Okay. Scenario one: his death was an accident, meaning that it was not premeditated. This is unlikely because of what you found out about his account activity. He left for here with plenty of credits, he wasn't the gambling type, and there would have to have been extreme circumstances at work for him to access the Eriadu account. Are you with me so far?"

"Okay. Accidental death is ruled out." Kale shuddered a little. "I don't understand how you can talk about it like this, Maris."

Maris stared across the water, finger tapping her lips again. "I … I pretend it wasn't me," she said softly. "It wasn't me, and it wasn't my Les, and it didn't make my daughter go crazy. That's the only way I can treat it like any other investigation." She shook herself out of contemplation. Kale could only guess at the amount of effort it took. "Okay: scenario two. He was working with the lawful government and with law-abiding citizens. That would possibly explain the Eriadu account, because it's the only legitimate one we have. The government wouldn't pay in untraceable credits, now would they? And Les was never good at laundering money. That's why Aryn did it for us whenever it needed doing."

"Your girl's a genius, you know."

Maris smiled with pride. "Oh, I know. I wish I knew where she came by that talent. But anyways. If Les was working for the government, he could have been killed while fighting a gang or while working over the pirates in the system. The pirates been quiet for a while, but that doesn't mean they're not still here. They're probably waiting for everyone here to get nice and complacent again. In this case, his death might not have been premeditated, but it seems just as likely that he made some enemies that wanted him out of the way."

"Okay. I'm still with you," Kale said. "Do we have a scenario three?"

"We have dozens of scenarios. Number three is that he was working with a gang, things got out of hand, and they killed him to get him out of the way." Maris wasn't as cool about this as she was pretending. Kale could see her fist balling up at her side.

"And scenario four—"

But Maris was interrupted by static on her comlink.

"What the…"

Kale listened. There were breaks in the static. In fact, it sounded deliberate, as if someone was making a pattern…

"Maris! It's dadita!"

They listened intently until the message repeated. Kale translated softly. "Aryn here … problem with Tursoa … another job …Cordorvor estate … watch for trouble … will need extraction … they know you're here."

The message repeated a third time, and then ceased. Kale looked at Maris and found worried eyes staring back at her.

"I think the vacation's over. Back to the ship?" she said.

"Agreed. Should we even grab our bags?" Maris asked.

Kale shook her head. "We only left toiletries. It's the 'they know you're here' part that makes me nervous. Let's get out of here." They each grabbed their satchels and helmets and walked away from the resort, doing their best to look like tourists off to lunch.

They were done being guests here, if they ever really had been tourists at all.


It was times like this when Aryn really valued her upbringing.

Things looked bad and were probably going to get worse, but that's when she always seemed to excel. Her parents had taught her how. She could feel adrenaline spiking as she sat down with the Devaronian aide to go over Tursoa's plan, and she knew that she was in survival mode.

"There're only twelve security guards," he said. "They work together, four in a shift. They split up the estate between the four of 'em. A man named Kaisul is working tonight, and since he works for the boss, you won't have to worry about alarms or anyone getting in your way. It'll be a simple in-and-out operation."

"If this man already works for Tursoa, why isn't he doing this job himself?" Aryn asked.

"He's too convenient. And he has too many ties back to the boss. That's why you're going to stun him on your way in, after he's called in that all is well. He has a part to play, but it's more concerned with acting."

It made sense, she supposed. But something still smelled rotten.

"Now. Thanks to our friend Kaisul, we have a security pass that'll get you access to the grounds. It'll be traced to the company that does the upkeep on the lawns and gardens, which, interestingly enough, has connections to one of the pirate gangs in the asteroid belt. That'll help lay a false trail, and the boss has a bunch more in case that one fails. Once you're inside the estate, go here, to one of the west entrances." He tapped a doorway on the holographic blueprint projected on the table in front of him. "This east entrance is the quickest way to the area where Cordorvor would normally be sleeping, but honestly, she's more likely to be in her office."

Aryn studied the blueprint carefully. The entire mansion was only two stories, and the layout seemed simple enough. There were plenty of exits, too. She knew that getting in would be the easy part. Getting out alive and free would take more skill. "Is this up-to-date?" she asked.

"Straight from the house's security system. We could see it in real time, too, if we wanted."

"Who else is typically in the house?" Aryn asked.

"A few servants and droids. All of 'em but the butler go home in the evening. There might be a few cleaning droids around, but if Kaisul did his job right, you won't have to worry about him."

"You put a lot of faith in Kaisul," Aryn observed.

"That's because his wife is poodoo if he doesn't do what we tell him."

Aryn's gut clenched again.

"Before you knock Kaisul out—and make it convincing, would you?—he'll tell you where Cordorvor is. He'll be able to track her on the security cameras she doesn't know exist. Just find her, kill her, and get out. Come to the coordinates we give you, we'll pay you, and hopefully you can be on your merry way."

The alarm that had been ringing in Aryn's head went off even more shrilly. It was the "hopefully" that did it.

They don't expect me to go through with it.

Aryn didn't know why the thought hit her with such certainty, but she was instantly sure that she was correct. Somehow this was a setup. They were planning on letting her get caught, or they were going to find some other way to threaten her and keep her on the planet.

Tursoa's right, she thought reluctantly. I'm out of my league. I'm borked no matter which way you look at it.

Am I really just a dumb kid?

She quickly slapped down her thoughts. If she doubted herself she would give Tursoa a much greater weapon.

"Any questions?" the Devaronian asked.

"Is it just going to be me?"

"No. Someone will guide you to the estate, and someone else will wait for you to finish the job. He'll bring you to the rendezvous where you'll be paid. Anything else?"

"Yes. What's your name?"

The Devaronian stuck his tongue out at her, nearly brushing it against her helmet. "None of your business."

"No other questions, then."

The Devaronian tossed some credits at her. "We can't move for a few more hours, and you're not leaving here until it's time to go, so get some food. Have a few drinks. Whatever." He extricated himself from the booth and walked away without a backward glance.

Aryn replayed the conversation with Tursoa over in her head again. She should have left before he offered her other work. She should have brought Syilena somewhere else, to deal with people she knew well...or at least trusted more.

She shouldn't have gotten greedy.

But there was really no point dwelling on the past. What was done was done. Now she had to focus on getting out of this alive.

She really didn't want to kill Anamalysa Cordovor. It didn't matter if she was good or bad, ethical or not; this woman was de facto ruler of Elshandruu Pica, and her death would have serious ramifications. Aryn hadn't been exaggerating when she told Tursoa that this could start a civil war. The planet was peaceful at first glance, but just like a volcano, there was turbulence beneath the surface. Any war here wouldn't involve blasters so much as economics...but the innocent beings who just lived here, the spa workers and janitors and minor bureaucrats, would be in the crossfire no matter what form things took.

There was no good way out of this. What had she gotten herself into?

Aryn spent the next couple of hours reviewing the blueprints and searching for an unblocked comm channel. She also took the opportunity to eat, since someone else was paying for it. The tapcaf lived up to her standards: the grimier the appearance, the better the food. A variety of beings made their way in and out, but none approached her. She guessed it was the armor that did it. Maybe she looked standoffish.

It was easy to lose herself in planning, but she glanced up periodically to watch the other patrons. There was a certain attitude among some of them that made her nervous; it was almost as if they recognized her. Her mother and Kale had been to the planet before, but she'd been on Nar Shadaa at the time. Why would she look familiar? She brushed the thought aside for now. She could investigate later.

The longer she studied the layout, the more convinced she was that there was a way out of this. She might not even have to kill the Cordorvor woman. She just had to find a way to warn her family and get out before they realized she was gone. But what if they were also jamming her family's comm channels? She'd have to get someone else's comlink to find out. She was a fair pickpocket; she could just get up to use the 'fresher and bump into someone on the way—

"Hello there," a pleasant voice said.

Aryn turned slowly to face the greeting's speaker. "Can I help you?"

An Arkanian woman sauntered over to her booth and took a seat, silver eyes taking in the clan sigils painted on Aryn's armor. "Probably not. I'm just being friendly."

Arkanians were never friendly. They were among the most stuck-up species she had ever met. "Sure you are. I looked lonely, did I?"

The woman brushed silver hair out of her eyes, revealing pointed ears. Ah. She's not pure Arkanian. "Everyone can use company sometimes in a new place. And building relationships is important, you know."

"What's your name?" Aryn asked.

She brushed the question aside. "My name is not germane to the conversation. But relationships…oh yes." She leaned forward casually and dropped something on the table. It looked like…a signal disruptor?

The woman whispered, "I knew your father."

She suddenly had Aryn's full attention.

"It was the height of recklessness to come here without changing your names. Tursoa knows exactly who you are, and he's out to get you because of what your father did. The job he wants you to do? It doesn't matter if you succeed or not. You will get caught, and he'll implicate your family, too. He makes plans within plans within plans so that he gets the outcome he wants no matter what."

Aryn felt breathless. "How did you know my father? What did he do?"

The woman shook her head, feigning a nonchalant attitude for any onlookers. "Not important right now. Just know that I made him a promise that I'd look out for you if you came here. No one can hear our conversation, but I can't keep this up or it'll come up suspicious. They're jamming your signal, yes?"

"Yeah."

"I can give you a two-minute window. They'll be able to hear anything you send … but Mandalorians have their own way around that, don't they?"

Aryn was glad the woman couldn't see her shock. She'd never met an aruetii who knew about dadita.

"After I get up, give me ten minutes. Then try to get a message out. Make it short."

Aryn nodded. "Thank you. We'll have to talk again."

The woman brushed silver hair out of her eyes again. "It would be better if we didn't. And if we meet again, you had better not recognize me." She slipped out of the booth and strolled away, stopping to flirt with the bartender on her way out. Aryn settled in to wait ten minutes and drafted a short message in her head.

No one in his right mind would use something as ancient as dadita to communicate. It was slow. It was hard to memorize. Very few knew or could understand it. In other words, it was perfect for trying to get a small message smuggled out under the noses of people who were watching her every move. How had this woman known about it? Aryn's only explanation was that it had come from her father. But how had the woman known him? It was infuriating to be so close to someone who had answers, but still so far from the truth.

Ten minutes was a long time, and two minutes was not long enough to send a detailed message in dadita. She would have to do the best she could if and when the window opened. Hopefully her family would be standing by.

Nine minutes … ten … eleven … and then, the static cleared. Aryn breathed a sigh of relief and commed her mother. She wished more than anything that she could just talk to her.

"Aryn here … problem with Tursoa … another job …Cordorvor estate … watch for trouble … will need extraction … they know you're here."

She was repeating the message when she saw the Devaronian approaching. Not now ... come on, give me another minute …

He slipped into the booth and tapped the blueprints. "Time to meet your escorts for the party," he said, tongue flickering. Aryn wished she could read Devaronian body language, but not as much as she wished for one more minute to herself. She struggled to focus long enough to repeat the message again and answer the statement at the same time.

But then the static returned. Problem solved, she thought bitterly.

"If this is what you call a party, I'd hate to see a full-out Republic Day celebration," Aryn said.

He ignored her. "Dark is in two hours. You need to be in position before the shift change at the estate. You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Aryn said. She took a deep breath and stood up. "Let's go."


Night fell swiftly around the Cordorvor estate. There was little external illumination, and the light from the three moons gave the gardens an exotic, almost primitive feel. There were certain things that just made a world alien, and Aryn decided this scene was one of them. The tropical gardens were beautiful, but they would never be familiar or welcoming.

"Here's your stop," her guide whispered. Aryn wondered where Tursoa had found him. He was just a human kid—eleven, maybe twelve years old. Not that I'm much older, she thought.

"All the security holocams are showing a loop right now. The gate's ten meters further down. From there it's a straight path to the house. Kaisul will meet you there."

"Thanks, kid."

"No problem, lady." He scampered off into the street and was out of sight before Aryn could look back.

Aryn had often heard that a home reflected the owner's state of mind, and within a few moments she decided that Anamalysa Cordorvor was pleasant but could be domineering. The grounds were beautiful even at nighttime, and the scent was nice enough, but Aryn had a feeling that the vibrant colors and pungent odors would be overpowering during the daytime. The house, too, looked quite comfortable, but it was much larger than most mansions she had seen. The architecture itself seemed to want to make anything entering it look smaller.

She hoped she wouldn't have to kill the woman. She would be sorry if she did without seeing if her estimations matched.

Gaining entry to the grounds was so simple it scared her. Jobs were never supposed to go this smoothly. She met no one on her way through the gardens, and, as promised, a man was waiting for her at the east entrance.

"Kaisul?" she whispered from the shadows. She wasn't about to walk out in the open before she had to.

"She's in her office," he whispered. The poor man looked absolutely terrified. "You know the way?"

"Yes," she whispered back. "Now call in."

"Not yet," he whispered back. "Wait 'til they call me first."

Aryn watched as he completed what looked like a routine security check on the door. He finished checking some readouts and slammed a cover shut right as his comlink chirped.

"Kaisul, report in," a tinny voice said.

"All's well," Kaisul said. Aryn had to give him props for acting. All nervousness had disappeared from his face and voice; only his shaking hands gave it away. "Just finished the check on door W-5; everything looks good. Kaisul out." Aryn took that as her cue to step out of the foliage. When Kaisul turned around he yelped and promptly dropped to his knees.

"Please don't kill me," he gasped, holding his hands up in surrender. "My wife … there's no one else to take care of her …"

"Relax," Aryn said. "It's set on stun." And she shot him.

Blue arcs raced across his body and laid him out prone. Aryn dragged him out of the way and stepped through the still-disarmed doorway.

The ease with which she made her way through the house was downright alarming. Sure it was an inside job, but in a house this big wouldn't she run into something? She made her way to the stairwell—she wouldn't risk taking the turbolift—and climbed to the second floor, where the office was.

Aryn paused before she stepped out. Am I really going to do this? She had never killed anyone before. She had no idea how she would feel afterward. But why was she even considering it? She should just stun the woman to make it look like she did something, dodge the guide, and get into the city to try to find the ship. Surely they couldn't block her signal all over the city.

A light suddenly blinked in her helmet. She had a message.

What the …?

She opened it. It was text only, from Tursoa.

We're watching you.

Shab.

How had she forgotten? Somehow Tursoa had placed all kinds of holocams throughout the estate. He could see her right now. He could see her if she bolted.

He would definitely see if she only stunned Cordorvor instead of killed her.

Shab. Shab, shab, shab…

But wait. Were her comms unblocked?

She quickly tried her mother's channel. The relief that flooded through her when she heard Maris's voice almost made her go weak at the knees.

"Aryn! Where are you? What's going on?"

This was no time for dadita. They'd have to take their chances and hope that Tursoa and company didn't know Mando'a.

"Ma, I'm in the Cordorvor estate. They want me to kill her. They're watching me. As soon as I get out of here I need extraction. How close are you?"

"We're at the docking bay five minutes west of there," Maris said. "Can you make it?"

Aryn could have cried with relief. "See you soon," she said in Basic. She could get there, surely!

But could she go through with killing Anamalysa Cordorvor?

She thought again of Tursoa's message. We're watching you. He was sure to have measures in place if she didn't finish what she'd started.

Either way, she couldn't stand here on this staircase anymore.

She edged into the hall.

The plush carpeting stilled any sound of her footsteps as she approached the office. Apparently the door was open, because she could see light streaming out into the otherwise dark hallway. Aryn felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. She peeked into the doorway. Cordorvor was buried in her work.

Aryn took a deep breath. We're watching you. Her hand was shaking, but her blaster was in it … she was aiming …

"Hey!"

Aryn turned and instinctively fired a shot at the noise. Luckily she missed, because the shout came from a young woman in nightclothes no older than her. Out of the corner of her HUD she saw the Cordorvor woman glance up. Shab!

Cordorvor was instantly up and running at her … and she had a blaster in hand.

It was time to go.

"Mariya, get security!" Cordorvor shouted as Aryn sprinted down the hallway. A blaster bolt shaved too close for comfort. This woman was a good shot! "Get out of my house!" she shouted at Aryn. "And don't you dare touch my daughter!"

Daughter? They never said she had a kid!

Think about it later…

The nearest exit was close. She could be out the west entrance again in no time. If only she stayed a step ahead of security … if only she could dodge whoever Tursoa had waiting for her …

The stairs flew underneath her feet. She was running through a parlor, then a kitchen … she was out the door …

Another blaster bolt just missed her head and lit a fire in a tree as she raced past. The west gate was thirty meters away …

Umph!

Her breath went out in a rush. One of the security guards had tackled her and knocked her to the ground. A carefully placed elbow put him down for the count, and an added kick to the groin made sure he stayed there. She kept moving. She was out the gate …

She'd seen the small landing bay on her way to the estate. It was a tiny thing with only two or three docking bays; she'd suspected that it owed its existence to Cordorvor. She was so close.

And then police speeders were closing in.

No…

There were at least three of them coming from behind. She could see another two up ahead. She dodged down an alley and looked around for a fire escape. There

Aryn jumped a meter to catch the ladder and hauled herself up. The roof wasn't very high, but maybe if she could get a little higher, Kale could get close.

She opened her comm again. "Ma! Things have gotten hairy!"

"Where are you?" she asked urgently.

"Close. Rooftop, not far from the docking bay. How quickly can you lift off?" she panted.

"We already have clearance. Hang on, we're coming!"

Aryn was almost there …

Then the world exploded in pain, and she went down.

One of the cops had followed her onto the rooftop. She could still see her blaster aimed at her. Aryn tried to stand, but the cop was good; she'd aimed for her left calf, right above the top of her boot.

She could hear the ship coming.

But now there were three more cops, and her vision was getting blurry from the pain …

"Ma?" she said, gritting her teeth. "I'm down. They've got me. Get out, okay?"

"Absolutely not!"

But she could see six more coming onto the roof. "There's ten cops up here! I can't run! Get out!"

Aryn thought she heard a sob, then realized it was her own. She was so close. But now she was in stun cuffs, and a female Arkanian had taken her blaster …

Wait. I know her.

The ship screamed by overhead, and she blacked out.