It's time to take another dose of the Big G that evening, but Krev doesn't. Doesn't want to. Doesn't need to.

Feels like he may survive for one more day without it.

It's part Vad Alnam's promise. Krev hasn't felt this good since the day his first contingency orders post went viral.

But it's also because he needs to keep his brain focused. To do the thing Vad has asked him to do — but also to think.

He's thinking about Vad's motivation. He wants to believe Vad's doing it out of the goodness of his heart — the evergreen optimist that Krev Devin is — but he knows he has to see the full picture.

Vad doesn't feel about the clones the way you do. He doesn't feel for them the way you do. Understandable: he's never been off the block. He probably hasn't had any encounters with clones. You bet he hasn't killed one.

There's hope Brate's diary will strike him as it did Krev — but Krev has to admit it's slim. It does look like a rather pathetic piece of writing — if you haven't murdered the person who wrote them.

No clones and no contingency orders in the military. That's what Vad promised him.

But what does it mean for the clones? Does it really sound outlandish that the Republic might get rid of them in the straightforwardest way possible?

No, Krev thinks, it doesn't sound outlandish at all. Just rocket them into a star — that sounds exactly like something the Republic might do.

And Vad — he's scared of the clones. That's the reality. Scared of the army that came out of nowhere and was trained to obey all orders it receives. He's right to be scared. But he also needs to see the full picture.

And can you make him?

Krev tries to convince himself it won't come to anything problematic. After all, he tells himself, Vad's right — he's not the guy to make this decision. If they go with the star plan, he won't be the one pulling the autopilot trigger.

Better not to push this agenda with Vad for now. The clone question can wait — until Krev is free from Bnagen and her merry little gang.

Feels terrible, eh? Putting yourself first and others second. Who would've thought.

Is it your self-preservation instinct or do you think big and ahead? If Bnagen's reptilians get you, that's it for the clones. Nobody is going to care about them like you do.

If Krev's being honest, it's the former. He's told Vad all he knows. Now a smarter man will take a look at the situation. If Krev's being honest, Krev can go.

The thing is, he doesn't want to. That's the funny thing about life: you can do as much glitterstim and as much cruel shit as you want, but in the end, you won't go willingly. You may get used to being tired of yourself — but you won't welcome death with open arms. No, you'll squirm and try to banthashit your way out. Until the last moment, you will.

That's what it all is worth. All the betterment of your character. When it's time to do a stupid thing out of old movies, all of your oh-so-bettered character protests.

He half-asses it, but he manages to become persuaded that he has to rid himself of Bnagen's yoke — otherwise, there's no hope for the Grand Army. The bitch doesn't care about clones, no sir. You can't do shit until she's gone.

Vad has told him to ingratiate himself with Bnagen's low-ranking associates. Not that Krev knows which ones are low-ranking — the whole operation looks to be ten people tops. His bet: the muscle — the Trandoshan and the Quarren — are Bnagen's lieutenants. Everyone below has to be what he needs, right?

Of course, Bnagen may not be the mastermind behind the scheme — despite what she says. That would make her whole team low-ranking, Krev guesses — but that's beside the point. The point of reference he's got is Bnagen, and that's what he has to work with.

When the Gossam visits him the next day, Krev nods through all of the little bugger's comments. Then he asks the little bugger:

"Wanna hang out some time?"

Panic flashes in the Gossam's eyes. "What... what do you mean? Is that some code language?"

"What kind of code language would that be?"

"I don't know. Just in case — no, I don't think I would want to hang out."

"What's wrong? I want to make up for my shit."

"Really?"

"I get a feeling we got off on the wrong foot."

"I don't mind. I mean, it's fine. No need to—"

"Come oooooon. Don't be such a wet blanket. I'm trying to hit it off with you guys."

"Okay. But why me, if you don't mind me asking?"

"You're the least threatening one, I guess."

"Huh."

"Seriously. Have you seen Bnagen? It's like she developed her entire personality just in case somebody doesn't have arachnophobia."

The Gossam half-gulps, half-laughs. "Yeah. I can see that. That's a good one, actually."

Of course it is: Krev came up with it a day in advance.

"I mean," the little bugger goes on, "I'd still say that even if I didn't think so, so but I really do."

"You see? We'll make a great team. That's what I'm talking about."

"I mean, don't take it personally, but... I mean, it's still hella creepy. I mean, what's to stop you from breaking my neck when we... uh, go somewhere nice?"

"Nothing. Just as there's nothing to stop me from breaking your neck right now. Yet I'm not breaking it. Get it?"

Krev chooses the same nightclub Sorval recommended to him. Maybe it'll work out better this time. If not, at least it'll provide some much-needed continuity.

Besides — there can be complications with bringing a Gossam to any other club Krev's aware of.

"It's not right to spend the Festival of Life alone," Krev tells the Gossam.

"How nice of you to think about me."

"Nah. I'm thinking about myself. So what's our plan?" Krev asks and immediately answers: "We're gonna get boozed and then chaise some tail."

"Uh-huh. Great for you. Try finding someone my size here."

"The universe is a cruel, unjust place, my friend. But don't worry: we'll get you someone. You married?"

"Yeah. She got sent off the planet."

Krev breathes in. "That why you joined?"

"If anything, I'm happy for her. She doesn't have to face all the stuff I do here."

"Where's she now?"

"Castell."

"She got it nice, by the sound of it."

"I still miss her."

"Of course you do. Why didn't you go too?"

"Because... because you know, it's still wrong. What they did to us. Maybe they aren't sending us to death camps like some say, but it's still... fucked up."

Krev gets them some beer. The bartender droid tries to pour the Gossam a small mug, but Krev stops it.

The little bugger smiles at the sight of a Human-sized mug. "Very considerate of you. Thanks."

"The fuckers charge five creds for a standard one and three-forty for a 'little-people' one. Go figure."

The Gossam takes the mug with both hands. He drinks with visible, palpable thirst. When he takes the mug away from his mouth, he says: "It's piss anyway. Ain't worth five creds — or three-forty."

"What did you expect? It's a shit place. It's what got me hooked up with you people."

"This place? Oh yeah. I hope you won't do anything like that today."

"I've got enough alien cocksuckers on my ass as it is. So I'm gonna keep my cool."

Krev drinks. The Gossam is a dainty little fellow — the beer is fine.

"I haven't even asked for your name," he says. "Got a hunch you won't be comfortable answering either way. 'I'd rather not have a brute thrice my size know what I go by,'" he mocks.

The Gossam laughs. "And now you think I'm willing to disclose this invaluable information?"

"That's why I got you an adult-sized jug."

The Gossam laughs again. "Too bad it's this weak piss. Alright. My mother named me Toj Mer."

"If that's some clever joke in your language, it's lost on me. I don't speak Gossam."

"It's no fucking joke. It's my name."

"Okay. Krev."

Krev holds his hand out to Mer. A tiny paw touches it.

"Well, now we know each other properly," Toj Mer says. "What a pleasure."

"You from Castell, Mer?"

"Hell no. Coruscant. Born and raised."

"They still wanted to deport you?"

"There's nothing they'd stop at. Well, since I was a citizen, they couldn't do much — apart from my," he puts it in the air quotes, "familial ties. Those got me good. My wife, you see, she is from Castell — well, a colony world in the next system, but it counted as Castell in Praji's book."

"Shit. So you stayed here to take revenge or what?"

"Something like that. And you, Krev? What's in it for you?"

"I'm a Human. They ain't deporting me."

"Why do you do what you do, then?"

Krev takes another sip. "Because I could've been fighting in the war right now instead of wasting my life on drugs and writing shit. But no, they had to create the clone army to do it for them. So instead of giving jobs to people like me, they condition beings who have never chosen to fight to fight. That's fucked up, don't you agree?"

"I agree, I agree. It's just unusual to see someone who wants to be, you know, on the frontline."

"Why not? This is what I know how to do. It's just work."

"Yeah, work that can kill you."

"What can't? Stuff that we're doing?"

Toj Mer shakes his head. "We're not terrorists. Nobody is going to shoot us up."

"Have you seen the orders?" Krev draws up to him. "They can and will shoot just about anyone. All they need is a suspicion. With us, they won't even hesitate."

"No, I don't believe it. Tuu would like us to think that, but... well, she's Tuu, so—"

"That's where I have to agree with her. Forget about the Republic of," Krev checks himself not to say "your," "our youth. It's over and done with. Today's Republic is a different beast."

"I know, but—"

"It's a police state. It's basically the Hutt Space or Xim's Empire or whatever they used to scare us with at school. At this point, it's that — and more."

"You talk to Tuu too much, man. I don't share this grim outlook—"

"With the Hutts, you are excluded from the network of societal pressure if you are rich enough. Like, you buy your freedom. But in the Republic, you can't. Not even the Supreme Chancellor is safe."

"Well, honestly, the orders you... I mean, everybody is talking about seem quite reasonable to me. Like a set of checks and balances. The Senate can vote to get the Chancellor offed, sure, but the senators can also be—"

"Are you kidding me, Toj? You sound exactly like a Rep apologist! What are you doing on the crew if you don't believe—"

"I mean, I do believe in the cause and everything. I just don't think everything the Republic does is automatically wrong."

Krev helps himself to a ham stick. "So lemme get it straight. They send the little Mrs. Toj Mer away from Coruscant because she's Gossam, and you are now telling me the Republic isn't actually so bad."

"It's not—"

"I mean, I get it: sometimes, it's really easier just to wank it off. But come on. Like, come on. You can't be serious."

"I am. I think a lot of shit comes from people who take stances too extreme for their own good. Maybe if we could find somewhat of a middle ground—"

"You're crazy, friend. I hate Bnagen — with passion, in fact — but that's just 'cause I'm a sociopathic cunt. But even I have to admit she's right in what's she's doing."

Toj Mer throws his arms up. "I never said she wasn't. What she's doing is right. Which doesn't mean that everything she does is."

"Nah. I'm not buying."

"I'm not selling it either. Let's leave it at that."

Krev touches his mug on the Gossam's. "So it's the Festival of Life, and we're the only two guys smart enough to go and celebrate? What's up with our operation? What were you people even doing before you found me?"

"Well, little bit of this, little bit of that."

"Don't think I'm gonna believe that. You are a serious outfit. Hell, your funding comes from... you know."

"Huh, not really."

"What do you mean? You're not financed by..." Krev runs his hand over his chin.

"No," Toj Mer laughs. "Of course not. Tuu is in contact with him, but how do you imagine he'd finance us? By smuggling cash to the surface? No, Tuu used to run some embezzlement scheme at a refugee help fund. That's how we got our money."

"Used to?"

"Not anymore. I probably shouldn't be telling you this..."

"Don't worry, I ain't gonna run now. You guys suck — but you're better than nothing at all."

"Alright. Just on the account of you buying me a beer."

"Shit. I knew I could've gotten away with a Gossam jug."

The Gossam laughs again. "Well, the guy who helped her disappeared."

"Like how?"

"No idea. Just vanished one day. He had been on some government list before that, so maybe he skipped planet — or maybe they got him."

"So it's what? Just us? Fuck, man. I thought we were backed up, you know."

"The building we are in didn't give you any hints?"

"The building is one thing. It comes with the espionage theme. But seriously?" Krev pauses. "Wait, so it means the money Bnagen has is limited?"

"I wonder whom you can say otherwise about."

"Oh, you get my meaning."

"Well," Toj Mer says, "the guy isn't helping Tuu anymore, so... yeah, our funds are drying up a little bit."

"What the fuck, man. How is she planning to pay me when they run out?"

"Talk to her — not me."

"Well, how is she going to pay you? Don't tell me you work for the idea."

"What if I did?"

"Even if I believed you, you'd still need to pay for your roof and food somehow."

"What I get from our club isn't my major source of income, you know. I'm not as useful to the cause as you are, Krev."

"Without you..."

The Gossam drops his eyes mockingly.

"Well," Krev says, "not gonna imply I'm some special agent genius motherfucker, but I still can't get my mind around how you got me."

"I thought you meant today's place to be symbolic."

"Yeah, the club, I get it. I acted like a complete moron," for some reason — as if to make an excuse — Krev adds. "After that. There are billions of morons on Coruscant, but it took you two weeks to locate me. I can hear a..." Krev makes a high-pitched whistle. "You know, air whistling out of a spaceship. So I can't help but think about the hole. Where is it?"

"What, do you think somebody tipped us off?"

"That's what worries me the most. There isn't anyone who could."

The Gossam chuckles. "Man, the girl you were with that night saw you taking a cab. She kind of put you in one, to listen to her."

"She heard the address?"

"Only the street and the building. We had to make a few assumptions from there on."

"Looks like they were right."

"They were. Mostly. Anyway, we found you in two weeks, haven't we?"

"Which just proves me a moron."

"I hoped it proved me a master detective."

They leave with no tail chased. The Gossam is his friend by that time. At least, Krev thinks so. Go find a bad judge of character from Kessel who's turned forty — but you never know.

It's past eight in the part of Coruscant where Krev meets with Sorval.

"I was ready to leave, you know," the demonman tells him when Krev arrives.

"Yeah, sorry."

"I still have tons to read for tomorrow."

"I thought your courses didn't start until afternoon."

"They don't, but my hustle does. Nine in the morning sharp."

"Oh, is that your gigolo gig?"

"I wish. Tech repairs."

"My condolences. I wouldn't last a day."

"Are you drunk already?"

"Yeah. Lots to tell you."

Krev pays again — Bnagen's solvent for now.

"So?" Sorval asks.

"I fucked up. Big time."

"Again?"

"No. The funny thing is, it's still the nightclub fiasco."

"Don't tell me the video—"

"Nothing to do with the video. Some whore sold me out."

"To fucking whom?"

Krev whispers into his ear: "The CIS, I shit you not. Turns out, they have a presence here in the City."

"What in the literal—"

"They are some alien punks — excuse my language. They wanted me to believe Dooku himself finances them, but that's a load of shit. They are on their own."

"What the fuck? The CIS?"

"Don't get all worked up. All I did for them was more posts about more orders. Well, with added Sep propaganda."

"When the fuck did it happen?"

"A month and a half ago."

"What the fuck, man? And you're telling me now?!"

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck off, you're sorry! You're telling me this shit only now?"

"I didn't want to risk it."

"Risk what?"

"I didn't know how dangerous they are until today."

"Oh, thanks. So fucking noble of you to put your ass... No, wait a second. We were still meeting each fucking week all that time! So you thought they were dangerous, didn't tell me shit, and still got me in crosshairs?"

"Yeah, I'm a moron. Nothing new on that front."

"You're unbelievable." Sorval puts his beer away, then picks it back up. "What the fuck, Krev? I thought we were partners. I thought we were past this distrust banthashit, you know, since the fucking embassy."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're fucking not. When people are sorry, they do something."

Krev decides not to respond. He lowers his head: the look-I-know-what-an-asshole-I-am look.

You really feel sorry?

He kind of doesn't. It's absurd, really: he knows he is wrong. He likes Sorval. He knows he insulted him alright. The demonman has every right to be pissed at him.

But still, he somehow doesn't feel sorry.

Maybe it will come later. Sometimes it does.

"So what happened now?" Sorval asks. "You need my help now, don't you?"

"You're right. I do. Not with this shit, though."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm getting it sorted out. The old man's young man is helping me."

"So you don't need me anymore?"

"What the fuck. I get it: I did you wrong. But now you sound like a woman. Think about it."

Sorval doesn't deign an answer.

Not too bad of a sign — Krev sees it in his eyes.

"You are not in the Aurebesh agencies," Krev says. "I'm sorry, but your help in this situation is, well, you know. But I need you for what's coming next."

"Which is?"

"We're going back to our roots."

"You mean, to the old man?"

"No. Fuck no. I mean our roots. Propaganda and investigations."

"With the young man's help?"

"Uh-huh. Well, it's probably gonna be the other way around, but I don't care — as long as it gets the job done."

Sorval furrows his brow. "I don't know. All this government business doesn't sit right with me."

"We're not cooperating with the government."

"Yeah, just with one of its agents."

"What, is the difference too subtle for you?"

"Still doesn't feel right. Doing what we're doing, we should stay away from anyone government."

"I say, vice versa, we should try and find ourselves allies who actually have power. And lo and behold, we got one. But now you're looking down your nose at him — and he's the only one we got and likely our only way of finding more."

"Those people," Sorval says, "the government people, I mean, they are not like you and me. Their brains are wired in a different way. I don't like us playing around with them. They probably don't, either."

"Vad saved me on Telos."

"He sure did. But what for?"

"Because he's a decent sentient, that's what for."

"That's one way to look at it. Or maybe he just needs you for something. Maybe he wants to arrest his dad. They are not close, after all. Who the fuck even knows what has transpired between them?"

"Yeah, the only thing is, I'm not working for his father anymore."

"You're working for another entity that may or may not be related to the old man instead."

"He has nothing to do with the CIS."

"He told you so?"

"Yeah, and I believed him. That's a rare happening in my relations with the old man."

"I don't see why the young one should help us. He saved you, okay; but it was an extreme situation. Like, almost everybody would help you if you collapse in the street, but it doesn't mean they would also help you take your old auntie out on a walk if it means they have to carry her sixteen floors down in her broken power chair. Especially if they are government agents and suspect your auntie is hiding drugs inside the fucking thing."

"Relax. He was more than happy not to do any business with me until I found him here on Coruscant. But now? He's dead set on figuring out the truth. Dead set."

"Yeah, man. I can't see how it's going to bite us in the ass."

"How about you bite me? Admit it: you just can't stand the thought of me making friends other than you."

"That's true, not gonna argue. You know why? It's because you make some of the worst choices I've seen in my life — and people other than me are very likely to use that against you. Case in fucking point: your uncharted hit."

Krev can hardly keep from reminding the demonman it was the demonman who sent him into the club that day. He manages. Knows it'd be unfair.

"Thanks," he says instead. "I appreciate your concern. But we can't do shit without Vad. All we have is Brate's documents."

"As well as your research."

"Nah. That's... it's like taking a walk around a building — you may get an impression of what it's shaped like, but not what it looks like on the inside. Shit, well, what I'm trying to say—"

"Alright, I get it. We have to use him... his connections. So what role do you have in mind for me? Rabble-rousing?"

Oh crap, his old pet idea.

"Not sure about that."

"Because of the sixty-six?"

"Yeah." Krev is happy Sorval named a reason himself — and a good one at that. Wouldn't be unlike Krev to mention the sheer idiocy of the plan, were it up to him to make arguments. "We saw how much the citizenry cares about clones, about Jedi, about everything."

"So what is it going to be, then? Driving you around?"

"You still sound like a woman, my friend. Like a particularly annoying one."

"Fuck off."

"Been hearing that from women all my life. I need you for your hacking skills."

"My what now?"

"Hacking skills. Even with Vad, we're gonna do our best to stay under the radar. So no team of RDS computer scientists for us."

Sorval rubs the ring on one of his horns. "I have — so that you know — no 'hacking skills.' I know a thing or two about computers, that's true. Here, your old man perception didn't fail you. I even know my way around Holonet privacy. I mean, that comes naturally when you get paid an average Telos IV wage but still want to watch new holofeatures. But it's not even my primary, uh, field of interest!"

"I know. That would be cybernetics."

"A high-perception day, I see? Good, good. So I may have a chance to get it through: I cannot hack the Main Server Ever for you. If I could, we would've been done with our enterprise and currently residing on a planet that has a sea."

"There is a sea on Coruscant."

"Yeah, I've seen it. It's shit."

"When I said 'hack,' I didn't mean literally hack. Don't forget I'm old and don't know what your cool tech stuff words actually mean. Just... computer assistance."

"Computer assistance. Hm. That sounds like what I do already."

"Along with helping us old folk around, innit?"

"So what does computer assistance entail?"

"Doing what I was doing. Research. Investigation."

"Why do you want me to do it now?"

"The more the merrier. Honestly, though, I'm not as quick as I would've been without G. I'm sure," Krev congratulates himself on providing assurance instead of going with more maybes, "you'll see something in the files I haven't."

"So a desk job?"

"We don't have any other kinds. What did you expect?"

"That we'll maybe bring the operation outside."

"Maybe we will," Krev says, "but later."

He puts calling Vad off until the next evening. Works some on the next post — puts shit like "Chances are, you are a closeted fag if you don't get hard whenever you look at Count Dooku" and "The simple fact that the Confederacy — as in, the word — contains eleven letters while the Republic — as in, similarly, the word — only eight proves that the former is far superior to the latter" in it. Why not? He's still gonna redo the whole thing once Bnagen is history.

Not that it will help — after what the Reps have pulled off.

But he's gonna redo it all the same.

Vad got a secret comlink sig. Protected channel — like, really protected, none of the hidden number shit they charge you double for at the com company. Krev doesn't like it nevertheless. Calling a comlink like this screams "Here I am, and I'm up to some clandestine stuff" to him.

He doesn't feel like going to Vad's place again. It's far away, sure — but Krev's a superstitious creature. He's more concerned the Vad in Vad's place is going to be the one he met there two months ago — and that Vad is not the one Krev wants to ever see again.

He makes a call. No response. Vad must be at work — somebody has to keep the RDS running at all times.

It cheers Krev up some: he doesn't have to take a capital-Senth Step right now. It can wait until the morning.

Vad calls him back in an hour, though.

"Is everything fine?" Vad asks him.

"It is. I called you to make a report."

"Alright?"

"I had a talk yesterday with one of the boys we had discussed."

"Good. They still think you're on their side, I presume?"

"I was careful not to give them too much of that impression. Put in a few choice words about Bnagen."

"Very smart. Go on."

"So it turns out, their cell is not as all-powerful as the Aqualish wants us to believe."

"Is that so?"

"They are not being funded with the... off-planet money."

"You can speak freely on this line, you know."

"I prefer not to speak freely after hearing I can speak freely. An old habit."

Vad laughs. "As you wish. Okay," he turns serious at once, "so where do they get their wherewithal?"

"The guy I was talking with didn't really have a very clear idea. He just knows it's not coming from somewhere outside of the Republic's jurisdiction."

"How can he be sure if he doesn't know where it does come from?"

"He told me they — well, Bnagen herself, rather — had a guy who helped her run an embezzlement scheme at some fund."

"At a fund?"

"Some dispossessed help shit."

"Who is that guy?"

Krev suddenly doesn't like Vad's voice.

"He didn't mention the name," he says. "Just a guy. He done disappeared, though."

"Does she know where to? I mean, Bnagen?"

"Can't tell you that — I didn't talk to her."

"Of course."

"But I got the impression she doesn't know, either."

"Okay."

"I suppose that guy was a part of the fund management and helped them drill a hole or two in the money pipes. The dude I spoke to thinks he might've gone off-planet."

"Off-planet as in..?"

"As in, literally."

"Okay. I suspect this is the guy I'm after."

"Well, you can question Bnagen when we get her."

"I most certainly will. I'm not sure, though, we'll get her that quickly."

Krev's heart sinks. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry — it doesn't mean you will have to work for her much longer. We're gonna crush her organization — just as we planned. We'll stop her, but I don't think getting her under arrest immediately will be the best move."

"Why not?"

"Keeping her at large may give me some insight into how — if at all — she is connected to the CIS."

"They are connected — just not by a money bridge."

"Perhaps. Still, I'm curious what she will do when we quash her operation."

"Well, man, it's your call. Just get me out of her shit, and I'm going with everything you suggest."

"I will. How will you... what do you think about making peace with my father?"

It takes Krev by surprise. "I... I don't know. I don't think he will entertain the idea."

"He promised me he won't seek revenge on you."

"Yeah, that's good. I'd just rather not be an eyesore. If he's willing to forget and forgive — man, so am I."

"I was talking about something more proactive."

"Like what?"

"Like us working together."

"All three of us?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I'm perfectly fine with communicating to him through you."

"Well... fine. We'll discuss it later."

"Okay. How does your research go?"

"I couldn't do a lot of it. Time constraints, you know."

"Not everybody has the luxury of living off your father's money. I understand."

"I'm not sure if it's a jab at me or you."

"Definitely myself."

"I was kidding, Krev."

"I hope so. After all, it's your money to an extent."

"Yes, to the extent my father wishes to spoil me and my family. At least that's his line of thinking. It's all going to various institutions, I bet."

"Ah, so you want me to embezzle more from him — for you this time?"

Vad laughs. "Alright. I'll contact you tomorrow or the day after. Would be nice to have your CISers' names and addresses by then."

"Will do what I can. Also would be nice to finally see something on Damask."

"Oh, I'm making progress on that one, by the way."

"You asked your father?"

"No. I'm planning to ask somebody else."

"Planning to?"

"Yep. I made an appointment."

"The thing is, we need an opinion from someone who was close to Damask. I don't see how anybody but your father can help us."

Krev can hear Vad grinning on the other end of the line.

"I'm going to ask someone who knew Damask as well as anybody," he says. "Think about who fits this profile."