"One more thing, Mr. Alnam," Krev says.

The hologram pulses before him. Alnam's eyes shine as sharp as the stars his image travels across.

"I'll be demanding a pay raise."

"Indeed?"

"I'm a man with expensive habits, Mr. Alnam. And a really lucky one to have you as my employer."

Alnam tilts his head. "A raise of what magnitude do you have in mind, Mr. Devin?"

"Double."

"It is not out of question. But I cannot help but to wonder: what cannot twelve thousand credits a month buy on Telos IV?"

Krev breathes in. What he's about to do is fucking dumb.

Fucking brain-dead, to be more precise.

"My silence."

But the thing is, he has to know.

If he's to backstab Alnam, he's got to be sure.

"Mr. Devin-"

"Oh, I'm not talking about ratting you out to the Republic. I'm not exactly friends with it. I'm talking about my little propaganda machine. Which still has a lot to tell about ConCare to the Shadowfeed folks."

Alnam's voice is even. "Are you threatening to stop this machine?"

"No. I'm thinking more in terms of spicing that info up a little with the tidbits of your involvement in those schemes. Ulmis Systems. Remember that? Brate mentions it a lot. So I did a little digging and don't think you want your potential electorate to find out how intimately you were connected to the whole thing. Real bad for your public persona."

Alnam breaks eye contact. It's the first time Krev sees that.

"You do not know the entire situation, Mr. Devin."

"Perhaps I don't, but it doesn't matter. A connection is all the people need. A little something that ties you to the guys you want to bring down. Makes you one and the same with them."

"This... If anything, what I am doing now is trying to rectify my past mistakes."

"I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time explaining that to an average schmuck from Corellia or Firrerre. Look, I only want to be paid better now that I know your intentions are not as benevolent as I initially assumed. A little bribe to my conscience."

Alnam struggles for a minute before he says, "Very well. You will receive your raise, Mr. Devin. Thirty thousand a month. Only because your betrayal will hurt the cause more than it will me."

"For a sum like that, I'm willing to be a scumbag," Krev smiles.

His gut tells him he's fucked up big time when he leaves the factory building.

I know I was right, he tells it. Alnam is a piece of shit. His cause is a fairy tale for impressionable forty-year-olds. Now I know what I should do.

And what's the point? You're a dead man now, and dead men don't do nothing, baby.

Like hell I am. He needs me. I run the operation. He went through all the trouble to hire me. He's got to be ready to placate me.

You're disposable.

Thirty key is nothing to him.

You just told the man holding your balls in the vise you're a danger to him.

And now I know I've got him by the balls, too.

He knows that as well. You told him.

And he can do jack about it. I can put him down anytime I like. And I will. All I need is that nobody learns the ConCare leaks are coming from Alnam. Then the cause won't get harmed when I expose him. My cause.

It sounds good.

It sounds right.

It sounds dangerous.

It sounds right.

He keeps thinking about Alnam as he flies his speeder to Sumar's high-rise. He can do it. Can outsmart the old outsmarter. He knows a thing or two about propaganda handling now - thanks to no one but Alnam. He can probably recruit Sorval. Sorval is all about good causes, and Alnam's starts to smell funny.

Get the money. Make a run. Set up a new propaganda dispenser on Coruscant. Get Alnam exposed - would be nice to figure out how exactly he is involved.

But now Krev knows he is - that's enough for now. Enough for big decisions.

Alnam might prepare. Might declare the ConCare leaks fake - just out of spite. Might say he made them up. Might even start a smear campaign against himself in the press preventively - like, super-dopey stuff. Like, Alnam Caught Building Droids with Celebs' Faces. Or: Alnam Gets a Credit Every Time You Say These Words. Or: Alnam Drinks Sentients' Blood. Something ridiculous. Something that'll turn Krev's exposé laughable.

Krev grins. He's got a counter to that.

He'll save some facts from Brate's journals for his moonlighting gig. A finishing touch, so to say. Something to let the public know he's legit.

A turbolift takes him to the very corridor he waited in for Sumar some two standard months ago. This time, the only light comes from the ships landing and taking off at the spaceport: somebody has fucked up all the lamps in the corridor. Krev remembers how he used to do the same back on Kessel. Smiles.

He lights up a cigarette. He was smoking then, wasn't he? A lot has happened in those two months. Where is he going to be in another two?

Preferably, on Coruscant two million credits richer. Doable?

Doable, Krev tells himself. Doable. And he'll make the Galaxy a better place at that.

With fewer Dangors, Alnams, Palpatines, and whoever else.

The turbolift lamp lights the corridor when its doors open. Sumar never arranges meetings on the floor he lives on. He's too lazy to arrange them at a different building.

"Ahh, shit," the Ubb says plopping towards Krev. "No light again. Those fucking youths are at it again. Next time I see them, I'm gonna fry their asses up."

"You got the money?"

"Sure have. They're just paying ten grand upfront, huh. Can ya imagine that?"

"Would be hell of a lot easier once I see them."

"You, my friend, are going to see eight grand, not ten."

Uncharacteristically humble of Sumar to only take twenty percent. Krev's sure the Reps are paying more than ten grand and the amphibian fuck has pocketed the odds.

Not that it matters now. Krev's got a raise.

The Ubb gives him his eight grand without questions.

"How am I gonna find that investigator?"

"Don't worry, he'll find you."

"Not what I wanna hear about a Rep investigator."

"Very funny. He's got your comlink number, so I assume he'll call you."

"You spoke to him?"

"Nah. I mean, probably not. I spoke to someone from the department. Public relations, most likely."

Krev shrugs. "I don't like the secrecy."

"It's Domestic Security, ya know. They like their secrecy."

"The way I see it, it's gonna be some dirty spook action. Like a cover-up or something. Who knows if they didn't blow the embassy up on their own? You told me yourself it was possible."

"What is it to us? You just show the guy around. Let him take care of it."

The guy calls him the next afternoon.

"Mr. Devin? I believe you have been informed of my arrival."

The voice: young. An everyman accent that sounds a wee bit off.

"I think we should meet, but I don't know any good place to meet at around here. What's your suggestion?"

"The Lonely Herder is popular with the Republic functionaries, I've heard."

Laughter. "Let's avoid it, then. Anything else comes to mind?"

"How about Kiffa? A nice enough diner. It's in Coruscant. I mean, the district. Any taxi driver knows it - you won't get lost."

"I'll keep that in mind. Can we meet at about... uh, 6 PM local time?"

Krev's there ten minutes to six. Traffic's lenient tonight: he gets to Coruscant City from the Forest in an hour and ten minutes. His pockets are fifteen grand lighter. Somewhere in the maze of the Forest, one of Gzulla's cousins is working on Krev's new passport. This one won't get Krev to Coruscant - but it will suffice to open a few bank accounts.

A good, productive day.

Music is shit at Kiffa: electronic farting and nothing else. The beer's decent, though, and you can smoke wherever you want.

Not many people tonight, but a few sit at separate tables. Krev thinks Sumar's guy is probably Human - going by his voice.

Krev scans the diner. Kiffa is mostly alien. He can see some Humans here and there.

He takes his comlink out and calls the Sumar's guy number. As soon as a beep signals the connection has been established, a man at one of the tables waves at Krev.

Human. Good intuition, Devin.

"So you are Krev Devin." Sumar's guy is probably younger than Krev. Nice coat. Nice shirt. Krev can't see his shoes, but something tells him they're fucking nice too.

A typical Coruscant wimp - Krev's seen his share back in the capital.

That's gonna be easy, at least.

"And you must be from the RDS."

"I'm afraid I am." The wimp gets up and offers him his hand. "Vad Alnam."

Krev doesn't understand what he just said at first. Then it hits him.

Get the fuck out of here!

He chuckles. "What, like..?"

"Yes, like that Alnam. You will be dealing with this one, though." Young Alnam's smiling, but his voice grows colder.

"Sorry, I don't mean any-"

"What you think about my father's opinions does not concern me."

Krev's been punched by Devaronian demonmen not as hard as now.

He feels the urge to wipe his palms before shaking the other man's hand. He resists it.

They sit down at Alnam's table. Alnam's? What the flying fuck is going on?

Here's the comeuppance for your blackmail, that's what. The old man doesn't tolerate such things.

Alnam says something, but Krev doesn't hear him.

"Sorry?" he says.

"I'm essentially on a vacation here, as I've been told, so I won't take too much of your time. Hopefully."

He keeps going, but he's lost Krev again. Krev can only talk to his fear right now.

Wait, he says. It's not that. You knew two weeks ago someone was coming. Alnam - the real Alnam - had no reason to want you dead then.

But he has now, and his son sits right in front of you.

"... some conspiracy nonsense. Still, I have to check it, I guess."

Krev licks his lips. It doesn't make them any wetter. "Okay. How can I help you with that?"

"A rundown on the local Human supremacist groups would be nice - and probably enough."

"I don't really know about any such groups. I'll ask around, sure, but I don't think there are many."

This is the worst kind of absurd: a dream you know there's no waking up from.

"That's all I need," Alnam smiles. "As I said, I don't want to overexert you, Mr. Devin."

"It's fine. I'm paid for it."

"So am I. But tell me: do you know anything about the RI investigation?"

What's that about? Each question Alnam asks him is so idiotic it really seems like Krev's in a dream. He's ready to throw the table at Alnam. He's ready to throw up, too.

"Can't say I do."

"No? Maybe you can find something out? I'm interested in what Agent Lawrie is up to."

"Agent Lawrie?"

"Yes, from the Republic Intelligence."

"Fine. Okay. He's a pretty big fish, huh? Should be easy to, uh, to... to find out what he's... what he's up to."

Alnam stares at him for a long while. "I want to know if he is doing anything he is not supposed to be doing as a part of his investigation."

"Like... taking bribes - that's sort of thing?"

"I'm thinking more in terms of poking his nose where there's no reason to poke it. He can have a hidden agenda with a bogus investigation to divert the attention from it."

"Makes sense. I'll look into it."

"Tell me if that causes any unforeseen expenses, Mr. Devin."

"I'll be sure to."

"I mean it." Alnam makes a pause.

It grows too long too quick.

"You hired me, not that Lawrie fellow," Krev says. "Don't worry, I won't be switching allegiances."

Will this reach Alnam's dad? He bets it will.

Alnam nods. "I see we understand each other. Can you fly me to my hotel?"

Oh shit.

Here comes the itch on the back of Krev's head.

"Sure thing," he says as he gets up. Eyes Alnam: is he packing? No telling - not under this coat.

Krev is. Can be good, can be bad.

"Uh, just wait a couple of minutes, okay?" he says. "I need to use the bathroom."

A fold that forms between Alnam's eyebrows doesn't escape him. Alnam says nothing - just waves his hand.

The bathroom. Lock the stall door. Not much turning inside.

His hands are shaking - adrenalin, not glitterstim.

Okay, Krev: how fucked are we?

Alnam can't be here to kill you. Relax. He was coming way before you made your ultimatum. Not to say the ultimatum was a sane idea - but Alnam isn't here because of it. He was in the hyperspace when you made it.

Sure, but it can be an additional task for him. Maybe he was supposed to control how the operation goes - but now he's also supposed to whack you.

Sounds like banthashit, though. Why put your own son at risk? Alnam Sr. knows how Krev's new acquaintances tend to be doing. Shit - Krev can exit the bathroom and shoot the bastard. That's something a scared Krev can very well do.

Relax. He's not here to kill you.

The fucker really didn't like when you went to the bathroom, though, did he? Saw how his face got all screwed? That wasn't part of his plan.

He's a shit planner, then. Krev going to the bathroom is something you see a mile away. Plus: a ton of people saw you together right now.

Okay, Krev admits, this doesn't matter on Telos IV all that much.

He takes his blaster out of the holster. Puts it in his jacket's left pocket. A good precaution: if Alnam doesn't have a blaster of his own.

If he's gonna attack, he'll do it when getting either in or out: you don't shoot the pilot. Maybe in they get stuck in a jam. Try not to get stuck.

Holding to the blaster inspires some certainty. Look: if he really wanted to kill you - if his father commanded him to - he wouldn't tell you his name. He must know how secretive his agency is. Must know Krev wasn't told his name beforehand. No reason not to come up with a fake one. Otherwise, Krev realizes why you're here and fucks your plan up.

Maybe that's the plan? To get you moving? Maybe there's trap?

No, that's just retarded. You don't make plans that depend on so many things to go right. For all Alnam knows, Krev can escape through the bathroom and go to a hiding hole on the other side of the planet. Good luck finding him there. No.

How is he even allowed to work in the RDS? Kind of obvious he has a conflict of interests of some sort, innit?

Krev gets out of the stall. Washes his face. Walks back to the main room.

Alnam stands waiting for him with his thumbs tucked under his belt. No holster on it. His coat now hugs his upper torso tight, and Krev can see there are no holsters under Alnam's arms, either.

Krev recovers his breath.

"Is this really the best bar around?" Alnam asks as they walk to the parking lot. He seems fine with walking half a step in front of Krev.

"I just said it was nice enough."

"Well, not to my taste."

"You can say most of Telos is acquired taste."

Alnam tells him the name of his hotel. A fancy one. The RDS doesn't skimp on the accommodations.

The traffic has grown heavier since Krev's flight to Kiffa. Crap.

Krev squints at Alnam. Alnam sits tight.

"So you want something... more fun?" Krev asks him. "Like, girls and..?"

Alnam takes a few seconds to consider that. "No," he finally says in a very indecisive voice. "No, I don't think so."

Adrenaline is doing its job.

"Boys?" Krev asks.

"Oh please, fuck off, Mr. Devin," Alnam sniggers.

Krev chuckles, too.

"There's one more thing," Alnam says.

"I don't know about that."

Alnam doesn't laugh now. "I'm also tasked with investigating some rumors here. Propaganda on the Holonet."

Krev battles a sudden urge to send his speeder into a nosedive. "What's next? An investigation of Telos's ecological problems?"

"Don't get me wrong, I don't like this line of work one bit. But whatcha gonna do?"

"I mean, propaganda on the Holonet? What else is new?"

"Ah, this piece is supposedly extra nasty. Something about the GAR."

Krev skips a breath.

"Something about mind control or something."

Krev skips another one.

"We don't have any GAR presence," he says. "Part of our agreement with the Republic."

"The misinformation apparently comes from Telos, though."

There you go: secure line. Demonman tech wizardry.

"Oh yeah? Then your best bet would be to go to the planetary executive office. No reason for them not to cut the feed. You know - a bad idea to go against the Republic. No one here would do that."

"I'd prefer to keep it all hush-hush," Alnam says. "Who can tell what happens if I go to the officials? Well, nothing hush-hush, that's to be sure. They'll probably want to use it to gain, you know, some goodwill with the Senate. Probably each with a different faction, while they're at it. No thanks."

Shit. Does he know? How the fuck did he even learn about it? What's he trying to do now?

"I'll keep my eyes peeled," Krev says.

"How about a more proactive approach, Mr. Devin? Let me put it this way: my travel allowance is really outstanding. Tried to return the excesses, but they told me it was easier to spend them than to go through all the procedures."

Krev knows he's gotta react fast. His brain is having none of it, though.

"That's all good and nice," he says, "but no promises, Agent. I'll ask around. I know some people who might know something about the Holonet and such."

Yes, he will. He will have a very long fucking dialog with some of those people.

Alnam seems satisfied. Krev keeps eyeing him as he pilots the speeder to the hotel.

Does he know anything? If so, what does he know and what doesn't he?

"So how come you serve in the RDS? No offense, but with a family like yours..."

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"Oh, okay."

"I used to work in the CorSec before."

Krev looks at Alnam. "Where in the CorSec?"

"Precinct 84. That's in Fobosi, generally speaking, but the precinct borders are all messed up."

"Oh, that CorSec? I thought you meant the Corellian Sector."

"Nah. Never been to."

See how he reacts. Normal reactions to small talk. Not something you'd expect from an assassin getting ready to strike.

Maybe he's just here to keep Krev in check?

Krev looks at him. Better not to spill the beans - not now, at least. Can be all a test. Let's make sure Alnam Sr. gets a picture-perfect report - and then you can make a run. Can even embezzle some additional funds from him if he starts to trust you more.

The relief he feels when Alnam asks to drop him off at the hotel's main entrance is so strong Krev's bladder almost gives way. He watches Alnam get out into the airlock. Tries to size him up.

"Call me if you find anything," Alnam says. Then he shuts the speeder's door.

Krev thinks on the way home. Should he go see the Big Alnam? He really wants to. Always better to step into the darkness than to stand around and not know what's in there. Didn't Brate write something like that? That he preferred fighting to waiting? He's got a point, that test-tuber.

But Krev doesn't go to the old factory. His body demands action - it's already in full battle mode. But he doesn't follow its commands.

Act smart, not simple.

He goes home. He smokes. He scores at least two kilometers walking in circles in his apartment. Then he calls Sorval.

"Any weirdos asking about me lately? Or my business?"

The demonman thinks. "I don't think so. No, not since the intel guys."

"You sure? I mean more recently. Like today or yesterday."

"I'm sure. Don't know how it works for you, but I can remember what happened yesterday." Sorval's tone is nearly apologetic when he cracks this fucking one. "You think there might be a problem?"

"I don't know. Any news from the big man?"

"You talk to him these days. I haven't heard from him in a while. Okay, this shit really sounds like there's a problem."

Krev weighs his pros and cons. Tries to: the scales in his head are all helter-skelter.

"You ever met the big man's son?" he finally asks.

"No. Why? I don't think he ever mentioned him."

Sounds genuine.

"But you know he has one, right?"

"I mean, yeah. The big man is a big man, big man. I know there's a son somewhere in the picture." Sorval coughs. "But as I said, he never talked to me about him."

"Well, chances are you'll meet him soon enough."

"What, the son?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. The big man told you?"

"Not really. Not sure he knows, and that's the big question."

"You thought about asking him?"

"Sure."

"And?"

"I decided against it. Look, can you get to the sauna in an hour or so?"

"I was hoping to catch some sleep tonight-"

"Too bad."

Sorval has ordered Krev a beer, but there's not much drinking that evening.

"Shit," the demonman replies when Krev tells him the RDS has traced the dump. "I'll find out which one fucked up."

"Can be something other than a fuckup."

"Like what?"

"Daddy could of told him."

Sorval picks his glass up and puts it back down. "Just what sense does that make?"

"No fucking idea."

"Nah, Devin. No way. They probably don't even talk to each other. How else would they allow Alnam's son to work for the government?"

"I don't know. But it's one hell of a coincidence otherwise."

"Maybe they somehow realized who's behind the Shadowfeed posts. Sent his son - since he's working for them anyway."

"He can be a double agent."

"They check this type of shit. I'm telling you, they're probably spying on their own personnel. Let alone if one of them is Vygo Alnam's son."

"Still-"

"What's the point for Alnam to send his son here? Just to check how we're doing? That's insane. He sees the results. And even if he did send his son, why would his son just not tell us what he's here for?"

Krev mulls it over. "It's some odd shit right here. And I don't like it one bit. No explanation makes sense."

"Sometimes, it's just like that. Let's focus on doing what we can do, alright? We'll talk to the two idiots. Maybe we should stop posting for now?"

"No, that would be a dead giveaway that whoever is behind the campaign knows about the investigation. And that he learned about it just now."

"Yeah, you're right. I'll see what else I can do about the connection - though I don't think there's much I can do beyond what I did already. I'm inclined to blame the sentient factor."

"If this Alnam guy gets to them, we're screwed."

"He won't get to them," Sorval says drumming on the edge of his beer glass. "You and I are the only people who know about the operation. Who's involved and all that. Don't get so worked up, Devin. The RI spook seemed to like me. We can always pit him against Alnam."

Krev isn't that sure. He's set on acting smart, though.