"Well, I don't know about it," Krev says.
"Why not? You say he wants to help. This is a great opportunity."
The connection is crisp — so crisp Krev finds it hard to believe he's talking to Vad over a comlink. Alnam technologies, man.
"This ain't something he's good at. He's just a kid."
"He's a non-Human. He'll fit right in."
"I don't know about it."
"Look, there's no other place I can put him. I can't take him to the RDS office, or the Commission meeting, can I?"
"Guess you can't."
"I was opposed to bringing him in in the first place. But since he knows everything already—"
"I'd appreciate less reproaching undertones."
"Sorry. But it's a fact: your boy knows everything you do. He wants to help us. I don't like it, but okay. Let him."
"But the only thing he can do is be another spy in Bnagen's organization."
"That's all I can think of."
"Alright. I'll talk to him."
"Maybe he'll decline."
Yeah, sure he will.
"Maybe," Krev says. "So what about your father?"
"I'll talk to him, I haven't forgotten."
"Sure thing, but Vad—"
"What?"
"It's been almost a week since you went to the big guy. I don't wanna go 'told you so' on your ass—"
"I know. I'll talk to him, okay?"
"Okay. I'm just going mad from all this nowhere we're getting to."
"I know. Alright. You talk to your dude. Later."
It's early evening — just the time to go out, catch more sun than the architecture allows, and pretend to be part of the normal life for an hour. Vad's call is holding him inside like a tractor beam. What if Vad calls again? Can't discuss this sort of thing in public.
What if he knows?
There's nothing for him to know. There's nothing — and it's going to stay this way.
Krev forces himself outside. Brings the comlink along — can't bear the thought of it ringing in his empty apartment and of himself coming home to a missed call.
Goes up to the sunny levels. The sun's gone orange. The evening is mild. Lazy, even. Krev's favorite Coruscant is lazy. He likes the unlikelihood.
A new song plays on his inner station. A new song, but he's sick of it. It goes like this: They don't live together anymore, you know. And it also goes: Maybe this is your chance for something other than you had all your life.
A fucking earworm, this one.
You do this, he tells himself routinely, and you lose Vad. Don't even start with the "he's a good guy" shtick. There are things no guy will take, no matter how good he is. Come on. She didn't even like you.
Yeah, but she didn't dislike me, either.
How little you fucking need, it's pathetic. Just a conversation that doesn't amount to "where do we get some drugs."
Is it bad I like more sophisticated women?
It's bad you're having these kind of thoughts about your friend's wife.
She's his ex-wife, for all intents and purposes.
Try telling this to Vad. You make a move, you lose him.
No number of jerk-off sessions is fixing this. It's a mess, and Krev knows it.
He tries thinking about what Vad has learned, but it's not doing much. Vad hasn't learned much, the reason is. Damask got injured in an assassination attempt, not in a crash. Big fucking deal. I mean, it may be — but how do you tell? There's no data on the guy online.
Why is that? Vad's convo with Palpatine didn't answer that. That was probably the most important question — one that any answer to could be useful. How was I supposed to phrase it? Vad asked him. Why is the Holonet so shit and I have to do my job properly, by talking to people?
He was right, of course. Obviously, he also couldn't ask him about the Geon. project. But that just means talking to Palpatine was a bad idea.
They learned nothing they couldn't have from Alnam Senior.
And now Vad's procrastinating again — this time, about going to his father. Krev gets the sentiment — he wouldn't like to go to the man, too. But it has to be done.
Palpatine said Damask owned a huge share of the weapon market. That's great. That's interesting. It's up to everybody's guess how huge is "huge." And also: does Alnam RoboTech count as a weapons manufacturer? Some of its droid parts are sure weaponized. Krev remembers that IG model he worked with on Telos once or twice. Alnam RoboTech central processor. Krev was glad when the fucker got fried by the police.
Well, that sure was a weapon. Does it mean Damask owned some part of Alnam's company?
If so: what are the implications?
One. Somebody else got to own that part after the Muun had drunk himself to death. A likely candidate: Vygo Alnam himself. Another one: San Hill. Or the Dangor siblings. There's no telling. Maybe Alnam benefited from Damask's death, maybe not. Maybe he facilitated it — maybe not.
Two. Damask had enough money to buy that part in the first place. Krev has no idea how rich Alnam is and Damask was — their wealth is beyond the scope of his imagination like interstellar distances. Alnam was born to a rich family to begin with. What could Damask tempt him with? Okay, whatever.
But that's if Damask owned a share in Alnam RoboTech. Maybe he didn't — after all, Alnam and he seemed to have a mutual interest in Ulmis.
Wait a second. What if the context of that picture was not what you thought?
What if the Muuns were on Artesia not as Damask Holdings' representatives, but as overseers? What if Vygo Alnam was a completely dependent entity at that point?
No guessing any of that. Let's wait until Vad talks to his father.
Krev feels he's already thought all these thoughts: they are exciting in a numb way.
Some are more exciting than others, though. Way more.
Stop with this. You are a dead man walking. How long until glitterstim catches up with you? What can you give anyone?
I'm still alive, Krev thinks as Coruscant skyline drifts in front of him. I've been doing this shit for the best part of my life — yet I'm still alive.
He's got Oglago Babel to thank for it, really. Even back on Kessel, Oglago looked down on the dirtier sorts of spice — and Kessel was never a place where you could look down on anything. Friendship with Oglago was constantly trying to imitate Oglago and failing at it. It did give Krev a more desirable, more survivable addiction.
Sure, sure. But would it be so wrong to ask? No harm in asking, right? She'll tell me to go fuck myself anyway. Well, in a different sorta language, but still. And I — I will go fuck myself knowing that at least, I tried.
It would be wrong. Of course it would. He knows it and it makes the thoughts doubly infected.
Past midnight. He gets home. Was it just a conversation? the voice in his head is saying.
Yes, Krev answers it, it was just a conversation. Yes, I'm stupid like a fourteen-year-old me.
Calls Sorval in the morning: "I asked about that job you got an eye for."
"You did? Okay. Thanks. What's the Businessman Junior's answer?"
"He wasn't super enthusiastic, but he's open to the opportunity, I guess."
"Why wasn't he enthusiastic?"
"Why do you care? He's fine with it."
"If he's just rolling with it because he's your friend, I don't want it. I mean, I still do, but it's not the same."
"Ah, quit this shit, man. He agreed. What else do you want? A personal letter to tell you how invaluable you are?"
"That'd be nice. Okay. Did you tell him I'm on a schedule, and a pretty tight one?"
"Yes. That's part of why he's not enthusiastic."
"Okay. Did you tell him I'll do my best to do what he assigns to me?"
"You'll tell it to him yourself."
"Alright. When?"
"Don't know yet. I'll tell you when he tells me."
Vad tells him later that day. Well — Krev calls him in the evening. Asks to call him back.
"The line is as secure as it can physically be either way," Vad tells him the first thing after he calls back.
"It's just all the old spy flicks I watched as a kid. Okay, I talked to the hornman. He wants to meet you, you know, discuss everything face-to-face."
"He's fine with what I want him to do?"
"I didn't ask. We don't have your fancy spy comlinks. He'd better be — or we'll do without him."
"Except you'll feed him everything anyway."
"Yeah, yeah. Thank your dad for bringing him in."
"Okay. Let's say the Nonchi and Dettima intersection. It's Quadrant 54. The joint is called Love Dart."
"Hutt cuisine? That's gonna be a no from me."
"Nothing helps a good conversation like bad food, eh?"
Krev is to find out this Zhellday. He meets Sorval at their usual place — but two hours earlier than they usually meet there.
"Ooh, a cab," Sorval says, "fancy. I expected it to be a bus trip."
"I can spare a couple creds when it's business time."
Even with the cab, it takes them about six hours to get to 54.
"If it's gonna be like this every time the boss man needs to talk me, I'd rather quit before I enter."
"Feel free," Krev tells him, "but it means going back all the way right now."
Love Dart grows out of the side of an arcology at the outskirts of the Works like some ugly mushroom on a tree trunk. A few kilometers away from it, Krev starts remembering the surroundings. He was here — long ago, before Atnakis. Not the establishment itself — but the locale, sure. He tells as much to Sorval.
"Let's wait with your recollections until we're done with the business," the demonman answers.
He's tense. Krev falls back half a step while they're walking from the parking to the elevators down to the restaurant. Watches Sorval. Doesn't like what he's seeing.
He's gonna fuck it all up. It was a bad idea — bringing him here. Into this.
It's too late, though.
Projectors light up the Love Dart roof — the light day isn't yet over, but the arcology the joint parasites on cuts any sun coming from the west this way, so the arrangement isn't half-bad. Thick, low and yet somehow bassless music is coming from the down below — as if they were on the ground level, above some monstrous mechanisms that keep Coruscant going.
It starts smelling in the elevator. What is it with Vad? Krev tries not to think about how the evening may end. Couldn't he find anything olfactory-offensive close to his home?
They get out at the restaurant's top floor. Love Dart is a three-tier amphitheater, and the lowest level is a swamp-pool. Krev sees only one Hutt in it — it's mostly some humanoids hanging out in the mud-like half-liquid. Beyond Krev, really.
Unfocused blue lamps do nothing to light up the restaurant — they just paint its darkness. The music sucks up to the smell — trying to make you puke.
"Lovely place," Sorval says, his face shrouded by the vapors rising up from the pool. "You always meet here?"
"No. I told you already, and I like it no more than you do."
"No, why. I love it here!"
He's getting jumpy. Krev's shit-will-soon-happen detector crackles up to live. Complements the music nicely.
A tier down, they find the table Vad has reserved. Krev has to present Mr. Kossar's ID so that a droid lets them to it.
"Alright," Sorval says, "we wait."
Krev says nothing. He thinks, though: Why the hell did he need to arrange this meeting here? Should've let this place for the next one or something. The kid is melting. Shit.
"So what is it gonna be, then?" Sorval asks. If Krev didn't know him better, he'd guess the kid is high on something. "Eh?"
"What do you mean?"
"What is he gonna offer me?"
"He'll tell you."
"But you know it. He told you already. Don't you think I deserve to know in advance, maybe?"
Krev takes a pack out of his pocket and throws it on the table. "Take a smoke."
"You know I don't."
"High time you started — if you can't keep your cool."
The worst thing is, Krev can't either. Shit's contagious.
"You gotta act cool, at least, if you can't be cool," he explains, trying to take his thoughts off what's going on and what can go wrong (nothing, but it sure doesn't feel like nothing). "This here is a trivial situation. You're just meeting some guy."
"Yeah, to do clandestine half-government, half-antigovernment shit for him. I don't know if it's trivial for you, but it isn't for me."
"Look. It's real shit — right here. Either you have the guts for it, or you grow some — because it's too late for you to quit."
"What are you gonna do if I do? Off me?"
"What's it with you? You weren't this jumpy back at the embassy."
"The embassy was simpler. I knew what to do. And — I thought it would all end after it. Little did I know."
"Well, it's not ending any time soon. So get a grip."
Sorval bites on his lips for a while. "I get what you're saying. I'll do it."
"Good."
It's not good, though. Krev is disturbed by how accurate what he said is: Sorval can't quit. Not anymore. He does really know too much — and it's all Krev's fault. You didn't have to become his friend after the embassy job.
I didn't have to, but there was no other option. You go through something like that — you become friends. It's like a law of physics.
A waiter droid brings them caf.
"Where is he?" Sorval mutters, his leg beating to an absent rhythm.
Krev notices Vad before he can get any more annoyed at both Sorval and him.
"There he is," he says — but still, more than a gram of annoyance oozes into the phrase.
"Sorry I'm late." Vad takes off his coat. Throws it over the back of a chair. "Traffic. Or, as we on Coruscant fondly call it, fucking traffic."
Sorval mimics a smile.
"Well. Sorval, this is Vad, Vad, this is Sorval. Though you two know each other already."
"We do," Vad says, shaking Sorval's hand.
"We ordered you some caf," Krev says.
"Thank you."
They sit down.
"How is it going, Sorval?"
"Fine. Good. Thank you. I didn't shit myself once since you'd come to my place that time, so, I guess, things aren't too bad."
"Keep the trend going, then. We can't have you shitting yourself."
"I know."
"Has Krev told you about our apprehension? A while back?"
Sorval looks at Krev before answering. Krev forces himself not to nod.
"Yeah," Sorval says. "He told me you got Bnagen and her boys off his back."
"More or less. He told you about her crew too, right?"
"I mean... yeah."
"You know they are... a little suspicious of us Humans."
"I guess they are. So you want me to, like, infiltrate them or something?"
Comes off as casual. Good.
"We already have Krev here doing that. But there are certain things it's hard for an oppressed group to trust one, you know, who belongs to their oppressors' species with."
"I see. So I'll go in as a safer option. A safer Krev."
"Pretty much. If you agree, that is."
"Well," Sorval smiles almost confidently now, "Krev here got dangerously close to telling me there's no way back for me."
"There's always a way back. I mean, you're not even in anything yet, right? But — and speaking about what you're gonna get outta it — if you roll with us, then there's something I can do for you."
"Like a paid position?"
"No. All we do is, as I'm sure you know, but I'll reiterate, is strictly off-the-radar. No paid positions, sorry." Vad smiles. "It's more in the sense of if shit goes south, maybe I can protect my people. Because, let's face it, Sorval, you know an awful lot, and if things do go south, chances are, there'll be people after you."
"So really what it means is that I can't quit?"
"You can — if you believe in luck."
The droid comes back with Vad's caf.
"As a matter of fact, I don't," Sorval answers when it leaves. "But — even more matter of fact — this isn't why I'm doing it."
"Why, then?"
Another glance at Krev.
"Because as someone who hopes to become a citizen one day, I'd like the Republic not to suck as much. I want it strong and not doing shit like what they do with the clones. Speaking of which," Sorval nods to the other side of the floor.
There: a company of clones put two tables together. An increasing number of droids protest it without great success.
"Who do you think is behind it?" Vad asks Sorval, stirring his caf.
"I don't know. Krev says if we help you, maybe you'll figure it out. If we help the poor fuckers at least a little while we're at it — then I'm good with it."
"What you're going to do now has very little relation to the clone thing. Don't get your hopes up."
"Clones aren't the only thing fucked up about the Republic."
"What else?"
"The war in general?"
Vad nods. "True. Bear in mind: it's unlikely our efforts will do shit. Frankly speaking."
"I get it. But doing something makes me feel better than sitting ducks." Sorval thinks for a second. "Krev says this Bnagen thing can be the key. Let's skip all the potentiallys and maybes. I'm in if there's any chance."
"It can... prove useful. Did you tell him about Damask?" Vad asks Krev.
Krev nods.
"So if Bnagen really has any connection to the CIS," Vad says, "maybe we can get info from San Hill through her somehow. You see yourself how far-fetched it sounds — at best. But as you said, it's something."
"As I said, I'm in."
"Alright then. You'll introduce him, Krev, right?"
Why the sudden feel of wrongness? What about the capital-Peth purpose and all that noise?
"Sure," Krev forces himself to say. "Sure. What's your story going to be?"
"They can check it, right?" Sorval says. "Like they followed you to your house."
"They didn't follow me — they've overheard my orders to the cab driver. But that's about the limit for them: they still don't know my real name. I mean, the one I go by around these parts. It can't be too hard to check, can it? If they really wanted to? So what I'm trying to say is, don't tell them anything about yourself. Come up with a story."
"But," Vad says, and Krev's bad feeling grows stronger, "you have frequented that club, Sorval." He points at Krev with his eyes. "And they have informants there — as we've learned the hard way."
"They don't know me there, though," Sorval says. "I never told any of them my name or anything. And I bet you they didn't overhear my address — unless they listen on every patron somehow. Besides, I don't think I've ever left the place on a cab. Not everyone has the money to live nicely, you know."
"Just don't go home directly from wherever you're gonna meet with them," Krev tells him. "And don't come there directly from your home."
"Alright. I can do that."
"I think that should be enough. They are suckers, these guys."
Vad doesn't look convinced.
Makes it hard for Krev to be convinced, either.
"Look," Krev continues, "I got them to trust me. And now? Now I'm bringing them another guy. Look at him — he's a right proper non-Human. He's fucking smart, and believe you me, he packs a punch. What's not to like about him?"
Vad tsks. "Okay. Let it be a fabricated story. Wait. People at the courses you attend — don't they visit the same club?"
"Most of them are Humans," Sorval smiles. He's completely living it up now. Good to see it. "Your politicians have seen to that."
"It should be something simple," Krev says. "You're just a normal guy. We just need a new name for you, basically."
"Maybe we can say I, like, knew Brate. You know, from when he deserted. Maybe I met him on Denon—"
"Don't overcomplicate it," Vad says. "You start lying, you give yourself more work."
"I can remember it all. I'm good with storytelling and that kinda crap."
"Listen to Vad, man."
"Okay, okay. I'm just a boring guy, then. Buuuuut... am I allowed to ask you a question?"
Vad looks a lot like his father when he raises his eyebrows. "Yes?" he half-asks-back.
"What is my role in it? I mean, really? I get it, they don't like Humans — but they seem to like Krev alright. I mean, even the staunchest anti-Humanist would probably trust a Human who has proven himself to be loyal to their cause more than they would a Devaronian who hasn't."
"It's true," Vad says. "For Bnagen. We are not interested in Bnagen, though. Well, I am — a little — but it's due to an unrelated case. We don't need Bnagen. We need Damask. We need Hill. She may be able to help us with them. She might be able to give us a way into the Separatist, umm, structure. Maybe she's in contact with some other cells like hers. If she is, then we're going to interact with a lot of other Separatists who do not, in fact, trust Krev because they do not, in fact, know Krev."
"I understand," Sorval says quickly, but Vad keeps on going:
"Most Separatists happen to be non-Human. This is what we need you for: to give them someone they'd be willing to talk to. A Devaronian is going to look better to other groups. A Human requires a story to explain his presence in Bnagen's cell in the first place. You'll look native."
"Well, let's start infiltrating me, then. Do we have anything else to do here? The fucking stench, man."
"Unless you want something to eat, I guess we're done," Vad says.
"Who is leaving first?" Krev asks.
Vad salutes him with his cup of caf. "Be my guests."
They walk by the clones on their way to the exit — don't have to, but Krev takes that route. The clone party is in full-force already — that's to be expected with their leave durations. Their dissonant singing haunts Krev even in the elevator cabin:
"When we take off, when we take off,
We'll fly wherever we are ordered,
When we take off, when we take off,
We'll be another four men shorter..."
"Powerful stuff," Sorval notes. Makes sure to sound normal — not overly like he means it.
Krev is grateful for that — but the kid doesn't get it. Not yet.
Krev calls Toj Mer next day.
"What's kicking?"
"Life, mostly. What about you, big guy?"
"Guess I finally stopped shitting my pants about a couple days ago." Thanks, Sorval, he thinks. "Figured I'd call in."
"You stopped shitting your pants? That's commendable. They didn't come for me — but I'm still too scared to even make a noise inside my own apartment."
"Yeah, I'm sure it was you they were after."
"Well, they got you — and I've been a member for far longer."
"Aight. Let's not throw members around. Not on the comlink."
"Yeah, sure. I meant at the holovid salon."
"Care to meet me sometime?"
They meet not far from Krev's house that same day. Krev gets himself a can of tonic on a roof plaza. Sits down on a bench and waits for Toj Mer.
The Gossam arrives about fifteen minutes later.
"Isn't this a bit close to your place?" he asks.
"And you think they'd say 'fuck it' if I went two blocks farther? If they are watching me?"
"I don't know. Not sure we should even be meeting with each other."
"Yet you're here. You must've really liked our last outing."
"Maybe I did. But now I see you didn't buy me a beer this time."
"It's not a beer. It's a tonic. Sondie." Krev shakes the can in front of Mer's face. "Get yourself one if you want. I'm done giving you freebies."
The little fuck actually goes to the kiosk and buys a soda.
"I just don't want any fingers pointed at me," he tells Krev when he returns and starts climbing onto the bench. "You know, since Marrt and I are the only ones whom they didn't shake."
"And the arachnid cunt."
A guilty smile. "But they asked you lot about her. Not about Sklagani and me. So I figured if I tried to, you know, distance myself from the rest of the crew now... Yeah."
"So what's up with the crew? You gave up?"
"No. No — not if you listen to Tuu. But..."
"You still have her ear?"
"Did I ever?"
"I mean, you'd be hard-pressed to find one on that fucking head."
"Oh, you and your casual speciesism. I wonder what you say about me behind my back."
"To whom? To Bnagen? Or you think I go around talking about you guys like meeting you is my proudest achievement?"
Toj Mer chuckles.
"Anyway," Krev says again, "I need to have a word with her. How do I go about that?"
"Well, the boys and she still hang out in the office building..."
"You mean, on Brotra? What the fuck? The pigs know about that one, for fuck's sake!"
"Yeah, but you try telling it to her, man."
"Are you fucking stupid? Is she?" Krev crosses his arms. "Fuck. I'm not going there. I mean, what the fuck? We saw they'd been there! You saw it too!"
"Talk to Tuu about that. I tried to — maybe you'll manage to convince her."
"I need to talk to her alright, but no way I'm going back there."
"What do you want from me, then?" The Gossam finally opens his can. Some liquid foams up, and he curses under his breath. "I told you: she didn't listen to me."
"And what's the rest of you for? What, no one talked any sense into her?"
Toj keeps silence.
"Is she there now?" Krev asks him in two minutes or so.
"No idea," the Gossam answers quickly — as if he anticipated the question. "We could go there, maybe? To check if she's there?"
"Didn't you listen to what I said? I'm not going there! Besides," Krev adds, "what, do you want to go through the entire city just to see if she's there?"
"I don't have anything better to do. Not since I got sacked."
"Let me guess: another example of the evil Humans oppressing the poor Toj Mer?"
You're overperforming, he thinks to himself.
Toj doesn't seem to mind.
"I can't say it is," he giggles. "I was, uh, sabotaging their output a little. Just doing the bare minimum of what was required of me, and even then, not all the time. What did they want? They paid me fucking trifles, man."
Little by little, Krev lets himself be goaded into going to the office building. Toj knows it's just an act — his unwillingness to go. It falls right in place, though. Adds to Krev's image as a crazy, eccentric, but friendly Human.
And this adds to Krev's guilt.
When they arrive at Brotra, it's nighttime already. Krev's cursing his poor judgment — both in and out of character. You fucking knew how long it takes to get here. Now you're gonna stumble into an empty office, and that's gonna be another day well spent.
The office isn't empty, though. They are really this stupid.
"What are you two doing here?" Bnagen demands.
She looks bad. The mandibles are lifeless.
"Oh, what we're doing here?" Krev says. "Actually, we came to ask you the same thing."
"I'm just here providing company," the Gossam squeals from behind his back.
Bnagen's shoulders stoop. "We don't have anywhere else to go, Krev. Or do you think I'm brainless?"
"I don't know what to think, Tuu, dear." He notices with his peripheral vision the Gossam leaving the room quietly. "I can see a solution, you know. How about selling this shithole and buying another one?"
"This place isn't mine on paper. That's the crux."
"Oh."
Krev sits down by her on some crate.
"I got it from the Center."
"That's the refugee thing, right?" He lights up a cigarette. Offers it to her.
It's obviously not suited to the Aqualish mouth configuration, but Tuu manages.
"Right. That's why they couldn't get at us through this building."
"They somehow did get to the building, though."
"Uh-huh. Good point. Not by following a paper trail, though. That's for certain."
Krev lights up one for himself.
"They didn't make an ambush for us," she continues. "The day you were kidnapped."
"We'd've been done if they did. Well, I mean, we checked — listened really closely from the lower floor."
Tuu gives a low-energy chuckle. "It wasn't a sanctioned operation."
"Excuse me, but I don't believe in pigs' personal enthusiasm getting this high."
"Personal enthusiasm can be something to behold. If it's aimed at your enemies — why not?"
Krev doesn't answer.
"I've been thinking about it for two months now. Non-stop. It was a COMPOR op."
"Really? What makes you so sure?"
"It wasn't sanctioned — otherwise, they'd arrest you for real and set up an ambush for the rest of us here. But it was... connivance of authorities. Kadrur told you how their main man treated him, didn't he?"
"He did. A bunch of speciesist shit, eh?"
"Exactly."
"Well, that fuck roughed me up, too. Just without insulting me, I guess."
"Almost like they weren't that interested in the contingency posting — and more in getting rid of," she spits the word, "a non-Human group."
"They knew about the posting, though."
"What's so surprising about that? Didn't you tell the entire club about it?"
"You wanna say I'm responsible for what happened?"
"No. I'm not blaming you."
"No, wait. I'm not saying I'm without blame, but it was a... non-Human club."
"You don't really think there are no snitches and informants among us? Or that we all are a single mass with no personal agendas? I assure you, there are plenty of people in that club on any night who are more than happy to rat others out for the smallest of things the government can give them. And you know what? I can't even be angry at them. If it means their loved ones don't get sent off the planet to a war-torn region, who am I to judge them for taking the offer?"
"So what? You think it was just COMPOR boys going at it? Just having a bit of fun? Makes this safehouse safe?"
"I doubt they anticipate we'll go back here after what happened. Maybe they meant it as a message to me."
"And they won't check if you got it?"
"Maybe they will. Screw them. Let them come. I'm not running."
Krev sighs. Doesn't have to act.
"This is a stupid way to handle it."
"We don't have anywhere else to go."
"I know. Maybe just don't hang out here all the time."
"We don't." She gets up. Slaps her hips with exaggerated energy. "Kadrur and I got here maybe two hours ago."
"Why come here anyway?"
"We have an idea."
"Oh yeah? About what?"
"Something big."
"Something big? Like what?"
She puts her cigarette out in an empty flower pot. "Remember you told me how you used to make posts about that clone facility? The medical one?"
"Sure." Krev already doesn't like where this is heading.
"You got yourself a copycat. Some guy posted about twenty so-called leaks. The story of homosexuality in the clone army."
"Seriously?"
"Yes. Described in harrowing detail."
"Okay..?"
"They already arrested him. Some poor idiot from Corellia — he didn't even think of hiding his trail. Didn't bother with HBs. Probably didn't even know they exist. The funniest thing, the GAR official site published a statement: all their clones are engineered in a way that blocks their sexual development."
"Well, that's good to know," Krev says. He vaguely remembers seeing porn in Brate's search history. "I don't see how that helps us, though."
"It doesn't." A smile can be guessed in the mandibles' turn. "It's just a funny tidbit. But soon, they'll have bigger things to worry about than what goes on in the barracks late at night."
"You're scaring me."
"I told you — it's something big."
"Too big to even tell me?"
"Well — I've found your ConCare posts. I've read them all. Congrats, by the way — you really improved your style since. You wrote the firm is based on Rothana, right?"
"Right."
No, Krev doesn't like it one bit.
"Then something big is coming."
He decides to leave it at that: she doesn't want to talk about it, and he — he doesn't want to know it, although he's sure he needs to.
Next time, he decides. I'll ask her when I bring Sorval in.
"Listen," he says, "why I wanted to talk to you. Uh, the thing is, I know this guy who, I think, might wanna join you. As funny as it sounds."
"A guy? What guy?"
She doesn't sound eager.
"You'll love him. He's very serious about the Republic's violence towards non-Humans. A non-Human himself."
"And he wants to join? Are you daft, Krev? Can he be any more card-carrying that he's with the COMPOR?"
"Relax. He's okay. We two go way back. Basically, to the previous life."
"And you thought it was enough to tell him about us?"
"I didn't tell him shit. But — I might. If you're up to it."
"Absolutely fucking not!" Then she adds in a calmer voice: "Can you vouch for him?"
"I can. He's a good guy. Basically been nagging me to death about the a— The non-Human rights violations."
"And he started doing it when? After the kidnapping?"
"No, when Praji started doing his thing."
"And you didn't bring him up before because..?"
"Because I didn't like you. And after the raid — well, I didn't want to come here, really. I thought you were done. I was scared to talk to any of you after that. But now? The inaction is killing me. And if something kills me, I'd rather it be action."
How does it feel — adding your real thoughts into this sludge? Just to make it more authentic?
It feels like shit.
A lot of things that must be done do.
Tuu Bnagen peers into his eyes. "Okay. Don't tell him about what I'm running here. Not yet. But let him and me talk."
"Fair enough. When and where?"
"Why not tomorrow in The Wall Mall? About 4 PM local."
"We'll be there. You don't mind me being present?"
"No, you should be there. It's your friend. But don't tell him yet. Tell him I'm just your friend."
"Will do just that."
"I need to talk to him before I can make any promises."
"Understandable. Thanks."
"Don't thank me for now. Save it for later."
"For something big?"
"For something big."
Kadrur is leaning on a thin office wall — just outside the room.
"How's it going?" Krev asks him.
"Look what I got, Krev."
He comes closer. It's an ugly, beaten, and scratched all over DH-17.
"Where did you get it?" he asks.
The reptilian bares his teeth. "Killed a po-po and took it from him. Eh-heh, not really. I bought it. But the Xexto I got it from says it is so."
"Have you shot it?"
"No, but I'll fry the brain of anyone who tries to kidnap us again. I'll let 'em real close, and then..." Kadrur mocks a quick draw. Even though the blaster wasn't holstered, it still comes off as unconvincing.
"Better do some target practice beforehand," Krev tells him. "So that you at least know it works."