____
--2-
GOLDEN REBOUND
--Rebellion HQ
"What happened?" Aidon asked as he entered the War Room.
"'Golden Fall' was a failure," Shado replied, looking up from the table. "Some-how the Imperials got intel on the op and intercepted the teams. All are either killed or missing. We know the Imps captured at least four of them. The bodies weren't in the warehouse."
"Any ideas on where they're being held?" Aidon wasn't one to beat around the bush.
Tracer spoke up. "Detention facility four clicks from here. Not the highest security, but they're being kept in the bottommost level, sublevel three. Only way in is through the lobby."
"Great," he replied sarcastically. "We're planning extraction?"
Shado held up his hands and shook his head. "Not this time. Too dangerous. Even if we got someone in, there doesn't seem to be any way to get them out, to say nothing of the agents we're trying to bring home."
Aidon placed his hands on the table. "So we're doing nothing?"
"What I'm saying is there's nothing we can do. Our best bet is to wait until prisoner transfer. Maybe we can ambush them then."
"When will that be?"
"A week, maybe two," Tracer replied.
He shook his head. "That's too long. I've seen how the Imps operate. By tomorrow they could get some of them to crack, spill the location of the base. We have to get them out of there before then."
Shado mulled it over for a moment, staring down at the table. "Aidon, there's been a leak." The agent had figured that, from what he was being told. "I don't know how far it goes, but I know I can trust you two. We can't risk sending in a hostage team, so you'd be going alone."
Aidon shook his head. "No, no. I can't do hostages. I get in, I get out. I can't handle rescues. Too often they... don't work out."
The elder man looked him in the eye. "It's either you alone or we try for an ambush in two weeks. You're right, they may spill the beans. I don't like that any more than you do. But if we try something, we have to try it now. We obviously didn't catch them off guard like I had hoped, but if we keep this between the three of us, maybe we can make this one a success."
Aidon thought about it. He didn't like it at all. The odds of him infiltrating an enemy facility were always slim, but if he had four other bodies to worry about, four other targets... "Tracer?"
He heard her swallow. "If we can find a way out of the holding area without worrying about guards, there may be a way. A risky way, but still... If you want to do this, we can try."
Do, or do not... he remembered the old Jedi lesson from so long ago. There is no try. There was pass, and there was fail. Nothing in between. "We have to get them out of there," he finally said. "The risk is worth it."
---==((.!:*:!.))==---
--Imperial Communications Bunker CORUS-56
The engineering tool snaked its way down the fire-charred mass of electronics equipment, passing around the molten chunks of metal and silicon until it finally scraped against something solid. The engineer wiggled the tool slightly to make sure it could go no further, then he started reeling the device back in. "Looks like one-point-three, maybe -point-four meters," he said aloud. "The blast went pretty deep."
Officer Matlyg's eyes narrowed. "So this was no accident."
The engineer shook his head. "No way, sir. This was-" His voice abruptly cut off as it lowered an octave. "This was definitely sabotage, sir."
Matlyg took a deep breath. "I will contact Imperial Command immediately. They must know of this." He turned his attention back to the man. "How long to repair it?"
The engineer surveyed the damage to the antenna. "If all my men work on it... Three, four days, tops."
"Begin work immediately," the officer commanded. "We need that antenna repaired."
"Right away, sir."
Matlyg spun on his heel and headed for the stairway. A saboteur! On his facility! The Emperor would not take it lightly. Matlyg heard the stories told of Imperial officers who messed up a job. There was no doubt in his mind that he was probably not going to keep his rank; perhaps not even his life, if the stories were true. There had to be someone he could drag down with him. Maybe that trooper, who was guarding the south catwalk. Yes, Matlyg could get him to face the firing squad right along with him, proverbial or not. But there was no hurry to report this. In the meantime, there were some things the officer could do to find out who this infiltrator was. He wasn't going to take this lying down, either.
---==((.!:*:!.))==---
--Desital Street Detention Facility
The black van slid slowly to a stop in the alleyway, headlights off, modified engine running strangely silent to avoid detection. In the cockpit, the driver snapped the vehicle into park, turning the key to shut off the engine. The nearly unnoticeable hum around them ceased. She glanced at the man in the passenger seat, who was busying himself with checking his pistol's ammo gauge and clipping the lightsaber back onto his belt. Without a word he opened the door and slipped into the night, taking a dozen steps from the van before turning back. She was grabbing a comlink pack from behind the driver's seat, affixing a headset and switching it on.
"Comm check," Tracer said, her voice coming through the comlink in Aidon's ear.
"Loud and clear," the agent answered, not having to tap his ear like the last mission because the link this time was forced open. She would be able to hear everything around him.
Aidon and Tracer had spent the hours since morning devising their EAE (entry and execution) for the facility, how he would get in to find the prisoners. Aidon had committed the floor plan to memory, and Tracer also had the satellite uplink active to let her see the building from an orbital viewpoint, which included infrared and night vision. She would be watching his movements from the van, while also keeping an eye on activity inside. Aidon made his way to the street, then started for the building.
"All right, Aidon. Nothing's changed," Tracer's voice sounded in his ear. "One guy to the left of the door, two guys in the room beyond. The door to the next room's on the far side of the lobby, past the two guys and a metal detector. Do your magic."
Aidon heard the tone in her voice and smiled. She always assumed he had something up his sleeve, and she was usually right. He scaled the steps to the facility's door, his mind racing through his options as he gripped the handle. Gunshot: he's probably behind magsealed glass. Sneak past: no, he'll hear the door open. Straight threatening: yeah, right...
The officer looked up from his booth as the door opened. Upon seeing Aidon and his all-black getup, his eyes widened somewhat, which gave way to a more skeptical gaze. "I'm sorry, sir. We're not accepting visitors now."
He approached the booth with confidence. "I just need some information," he said, his voice strong, low, and commanding.
"Or course, sir, but..."
Aidon phased the voice out of his head as his he closed his eyes, tapping into the energy of the Force. Beneath his lids, his eyes rolled up into his sockets, his body slightly quaking as the power trickled into him. He almost thought he heard the man saying, "Sir, are you all right?" Through the power of the Force he could see his body, hunched against the wall, the man inside the booth and -- faintly -- the two men in the next room. He focused on the man before him, scanning him with his mind, finding the nerve he needed to pinch. Aidon's eyes flashed open and he glared at the man, releasing the energy he had been building inside himself. A look of surprise crossed the man's face as he abruptly straightened, before collapsing on the floor of the booth.
The agent circled the divider into the booth, kneeling beside the man and feeling for a pulse. There was one, but very faint. He was content with that, and began searching his body for his control key. Hopefully he had enough security clearance to bypass most of the security locks in the building. "What did you do to him?" Tracer asked.
"Used the Force to knock him out," Aidon answered, pocketing the key and getting to his feet. "That's one of the skills I didn't learn at the Jedi Temple."
"You're taking kind of a chance with that, aren't you? Using your powers and everything? Security cam, north wall."
Aidon exited the booth and began scanning the walls of the room for the holocam. "Maybe, but that's the only way I could think of to get past him."
"All right, but don't get used to it," she answered, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "We don't need our star player killed by Imps because they tracked his Force signature."
"Gotcha," he answered, spotting the camera on the north wall. He pulled out the pistol from his jacket, lined up the target, and fired. The silenced shot melted through the metal case, frying the electronics thoroughly. Aidon turned to the door of the next room. "Any cams in there?"
"Hold on, let me check..." There was a pause, and he could hear the tapping of computer keys through the speaker. "Yeah, just one. Oscillating, about seven-second intervals."
"Okay," he answered, approaching the door. How was he going to do this one? "Seven seconds..." he mused, a plan already formulating in his head. "Tracer, could I bother you for a diversion?"
"What did you have in mind?" she replied. Aidon could hear the smile on her lips.
"How about a minor electrical failure?" he suggested, a smile forming on his face as well.
"I'm on it, give me a sec." He heard the computer keys again. "Just to warn you," she added, sounding preoccupied. "If this is a half-way decent facility, they'll have a backup generator. It should kick in after five seconds, during which time the lights, the metal detector, and the camera will all be dead. You have that long to pass through without making a sound."
"Understood."
"All right, you've got darkness... now."
For a second nothing happened, but immediately after that moment of doubt the lights flickered and died. Aidon yanked on the door handle, passing the threshold while the sounds of confusion from one of the guards came to his ears. "What's going on?"
"Don't worry about it," the other one replied, a hint of uneasiness in his voice as well. "Must be a power failure. The backup generator should turn on..." -- the lights flickered back to life -- "There ya go." The guards looked around. There was no sign that anyone else had entering the room: both doors were closed, and neither of them had heard a thing.
Aidon had already retreated around the corner to the turbolift that led to the detention facility's sublevels. He reached up to insert the guard's control key and tap the button, and a quiet hum sounded from the other side of the door. This once again drew the attention of the guards in their booths, and one of them started for the elevator. The agent had no choice but to hustle to the opposite side of the hall, crouching down into the shadows. The elevator door and the door to the guard's booth opened at about the same time. The prison guard walked out into the hall, immediately noticing the open lift door and going over to investigate. He poked his head in to look around the lift car, then returned to his booth, muttering something about "lousy defective machinery." The door to the booth closed, and Aidon had just enough time to run down the hall and slip into the elevator car before the doors closed. He jabbed the button marked "S3," then took a moment to catch his breath as the car slid down the shaft.
It wasn't long before Tracer's voice again issued over his earpiece. "Aidon, what was that all about?"
Aidon swallowed. "Had a bit of a problem getting in the lift."
Tracer's voice stayed annoyingly calm. "Do we have a potential stealth leak?"
He shook his head even though she couldn't see it. "I don't think so. They're writing it off as equipment failure."
There was a pause. "Watch it, Aidon. We're treading dangerously close to the abort-mission line."
"I know, I know," he answered. An electronic marker above the doors counted the floors: S1... S2... S3. The doors opened, and Aidon slipped silently out of the elevator. The third sublevel of the detention facility was by far drearier than the lobby, and decidedly more Imperial in design. The room adjacent to the turbolift was roughly circular, with a console pedestal in the center, and a stairway leading up to a hexagonal hallway lined with holding cells. There were strips of lights at each side of that hallway, casting a weak, red glow. The only sounds were the hum of the walls and the clanking of a man's boots down the metal hallway. Aidon looked, seeing a guard slowly patrolling the detention hallway, rifle held in a loose grip across his chest. He was already far enough down the hall as to not hear the turbolift door opening.
Aidon circled around the control console to the right side of the hallway, peeking around the corner with his back to the wall. The hallway was about twenty-five meters long, and the man was fifteen meters from the end. If he was going to check every cell before circling around, he would have his back turned for only a fraction of a minute more. The agent took off in a low crouch, going just fast enough to keep his heel-toe mode of movement from making a sound against the metal grating of the floor. Slowly he closed the distance between him and the guard, gradually slowing as he crept nearer and nearer. Aidon mentally counted down the distance: Five meters... four meters... three meters... He carefully reached into his jacket now, sliding the pistol there out of its holster. Two meters... He took this moment to strike, bringing the butt of the gun down on the man's skull. There was the barest sound of surprise from the guard as he straightened before crumpling to the floor with a clang.
"All right," Aidon said, replacing his gun. "Where are they?"
"Well done," Tracer lauded. "Um... Cell Thirteen. Go get 'em."
He began searching for the correct room. "Now, tell me again: how are we getting out of here undetected?"
"Yeah, um, I've been thinking about that. Actually, I'm still working out the particulars. Give me another minute."
Aidon sighed. Despite all their planning the two of them still couldn't figure out an extraction safer than storming back out the lobby. There might have been a chance if he was going out alone, but he would have four liberated prisoners to deal with as well. He found the door marked with a large "13" and picked the side controls with one of Tracer's electronic lockpicks. The door recessed into the wall slid aside with a slight hiss, and he could sense the apprehension coming from the room's occupants, fearing that their captors had returned. The light switch for the room was beside the door controls; Aidon tapped those as well before entering.
"Who are you?" one of them asked, squinting against the glare of the glow panels.
"I'm Aidon Krinstaf, I'm here to rescue you," he replied, looking around to the beings in the room. There was the man who addressed him, and older man with streaks of gray hair at his temples. Sitting up slowly on the cot on the corner was a young woman, probably two or three years younger than he. On the floor beside her was a young man in his late twenties, looking every bit the ragamuffin teenager that made up the majority of the Rebellion's fighting force. "Three..." he said, mostly to himself.
"What? Who are you?" the man repeated.
Aidon ignored him, reaching up to press the receiver into his ear. "Tracer, didn't Shado say there were four?"
"Hold on... Blast it, these damned sensors can't go that far into the facility. How many are there in the cell?"
"Just three."
"We know the Imps got four of our people: Kragen, Solazar, Kree, and Lagenly. There weren't any transfer orders given here either."
He looked around the room again. "I've got Kragen, Solazar, and Kree, but Lagenly's not here." Aidon knelt down by Kragen, looking directly into the old man's eyes. "Where's Lagenly? Where did the Imps move him to?"
"Now hold on just a damn minute," the grizzled man grumbled, lifting himself to his feet. "Who in the galaxy are you?"
"I'm with the Rebellion," Aidon told him patiently, and the man's face visibly softened. "I've got a van waiting outside to take you back to HQ. Now can someone tell me where Lagenly is?"
Lanii Solazar got to her feet. "Lag's gone. They took him away earlier today... about eight hours ago."
"Tracer, you got that?"
"Loud and clear," she said, her voice heavy.
"Do we have a leak?"
"Doesn't matter if we do. There's nothing we can do about it from here. I'll call HQ for orders, but you know what Shado's gonna say, anyway."
"Right," he replied, turning to face the captives. "Who's the best with a blaster?"
Kragen spoke up. "Those two are techies. I guess I've had the most practice."
Aidon pulled the borrowed pistol from a hip holster and held it out to the man, butt first. "Go ahead and bring up the rear."
Kragen took the gun and nodded, checking the ammo gauge like a pro. It took only a minute for Aidon to issue movement orders, then they were all out in the hallway. "Okay, Tracer, now would be the time for your escape plan."
"Right, um... Okay, Aidon, I got something, but I need your help. The lift you came down in might have a way out, but like I said, my satellite won't go that far down. I'm working only off blueprints, but I think you should be able to blast open the bottom of the lift tube and into an old subrail tunnel underneath."
"How do we get rid of the lift car?"
"You'll have to trigger the door manually, and I can keep the doors open from here. But you'll need to work fast. If the Imps decide to come down to 'check things out,' you, ah, could be crushed."
"Splendid."
"Just let me know when you're in position."
Aidon stepped over to the turbolift shaft and pressed the button; the doors slid open with a ding that sounded much too loud in the silence. He stepped inside, positioning his finger right above the button that would take the car to the upper level. "Doors locked open?"
"Got it. Do your thing."
He pressed the button and slid out of the car just as it lurched and began its ascent. As soon as there was a space between the floor and the bottom of the car wide enough to fit through, Aidon jumped into the shaft and dropped the two meters to the ground. He pulled his lightsaber from his belt, igniting it with a snap-hiss and casting a blue glow into the shaft. He inverted it from a standard fighting stance above his head, thrusting it down through the floor of the shaft in a spray of sparks. Beneath the tube was probably a meter or two of solid rock between him and the subrail shaft, which he needed to cut through before the car came back down again. It was slow going, but Aidon was soon able to move the saber across the metal plating in a circular motion. In just under one minute he had completed the circle; a single kick to the plating made the incision complete, and the plating fell through the floor.
Standing on the small part of the floor that was left Aidon helped the three ex-captives down the lift tube to freedom, warning them that the drop might be farther than it seemed. First Kragen, then Solazar, and lastly Kree went down the hole, each shouting an "all-clear" once they were away from the hole, allowing the next person to pass down. As Kree dropped down the shaft, Aidon looked around, wondering if he should even bother with trying to cover up the damage. As he decided against it, Tracer's voice came through: "Aidon, are they down?"
"Yeah, now it's just me."
"All right, listen. The comm probably won't work down in the tunnel, so I'm giving you directions now. Once down, the path should lead east to west. Go west. About two hundred meters down there should be a small access tunnel to the right; it should lead..." -- a pause as she checked the maintenance blueprint again -- "...yeah, to a ladder that will take you to the surface. When you come back up I'll let you know where the van's parked."
"Gotcha. Thanks, Tracer."
"Be careful, Aidon."
"See you on the other side," he said and dropped down the hole.
It was pitch dark. Aidon quickly remedied that by holding his lightsaber aloft and igniting the azure blade. The shadows retreated, bathing everything in an electric blue light. Looking around, he spotted the three who had gone before him, the glow reflecting unreal off their faces. "Let's go," he called to them, his voice echoing in the tunnel. He led the way in the directions Tracer had given him, the lightsaber lighting the way down the subrail tunnel.
---==((.!:*:!.))==---
--Skyway Twelve Diner, Downtown Coruscant
Aidon Krinstaf sat in a booth in the Café Skyway, idly sipping a cup of coffee and staring out into traffic through the window that dominated the east wall of the establishment. He liked to come here after missions. It was quiet, in an area close enough to the "respectable" areas of the city- planet, but not close enough to risk being seen by Imperial soldiers. Here he could be alone with his thoughts, looking out at the people passing by on the street, most of them not even aware there was a galactic civil war being fought. It was a throwback to a simpler time in his life as well, were he would have helped keep the peace in a civilized Republic, instead of committing espionage against a tyrannical Empire.
Operation "Golden Rebound" had been executed without a hitch. After leading the three escapees through the subrail tunnel they had rendezvoused with Tracer in the extraction vehicle and gotten back to HQ. He gave his debrief to Tracer and Shado -- nothing spectacular had happened, so it was short. Shado did have some gripes with the man Aidon had psychically knocked out, but that couldn't have been helped. Afterwards, Aidon had been released, had headed back home to store his weapons and change his clothes, then down to the diner as a gentle rain began to fall.
He took another sip of coffee, watching as a taxi slid to a stop on the other side of the street to let on passengers, then drove away into the mist. His gaze swept around the room, taking in the couples sitting in a few of the other booths, the waitresses scurrying about, taking and delivering orders. The was a constant hum in the air from the conversations being held around him, mingled with the droning of the machinery from some back room somewhere.
Aidon turned back to his table, noticing a jack-in port for portable computers. He fished a datapad from his pocket and plugged it in, using the diner's InfoNet link to access a newswire. The Imperial Information Network was the chief supplier of galactic news to the populace, and of course they always put their special spin on things so that the Empire was never wrong. It was a tactic that had been perfected by countless dictatorships before it, but none had ever attempted the controlling of information on this great a scale. The Empire did, unfortunately, pull it off impeccably. The headline for the day was about a dignitary from Alzoc III, who had been assassinated by terrorists while visiting Coruscant as part of a diplomatic envoy. Imperial soldiers had captured those responsible, the report said, and that the "heinous crime would not go unpunished." Aidon grimaced. The details of that same event had been circulating around the Resistance as well, and they said that the Imps had murdered the emissary, not a rogue faction. The Talz from Alzoc III had been grateful to know the true story, which had increased their willingness to assist the revolution.
Aidon scrolled down on the datapad, scanning the headings of some of the other events over the past day. The mission at the supply depot had made the news, which of course had been touted as "a decisive Imperial victory over the dissenting factions." They even had a photo and some quotes from the garrison commander who had led the attack. Handsome fella, for an Imp.
He set the datapad down on the table and rubbed his head, again reaching for his cup. There were days when the job really got to him; this was one of them. Always looking over his shoulders for the authorities, operating under the cover of darkness -- covert ops was definitely not for the weak of heart. Aidon looked out the window again, watching two Ishi Tib exit a store on the opposite side of the street and move to hail a hovercab. They were laughing -- from what he could make out from that distance -- enjoying each other's company on the rainy night on Coruscant.
He set the coffee cup back down on the table, half-wishing Tracer was with him. As usual, she had to stay at HQ and run some late-night diagnostics on the Rebellion's ridiculously large computer network. There were only five people on the force who could understand what to do, and there was only one who knew which wiring connections needed the extra attention, on account of that she helped build it. Tracer lovingly referred to the networks by silly little pet names, and watched over it like a mother. Aidon admired her for her dedication to duty and perseverance of mind, but wished in his heart that she would take it easy for once.
The waitress returned with an offer to refill his cup; he accepted. As she reached over with the pitcher Aidon stole a glance at her name tag: "Tiliya" it read in small, non-descript letters. "I used to know a Tiliya," he said, his mind somewhat detached. But that was a long time ago, he didn't say. Before the dark times...
"Hm?" she answered, not really listening.
"Never mind," he shook his head and returned to his datapad. She gave a practiced waitress's smile and turned to go.
That's when Aidon felt the small ripple in the base of his skull. Nothing more than a tickle, enough to get his attention, but he knew what it meant. He sensed a presence, an individual with ties to the energy of the Force. It was strong and close, and now all his suspicions were confirmed.
"Can I help you, sir?" Tiliya asked him, fear and surprise in her voice. Aidon looked up, then noticed that his hand had thrust out and grabbed hold of her arm.
He quickly released her, his head swimming with the connotations of his realization. "You're... You're Tiliya."
"Sir, are you all right? I can call an ambulance if-"
Several people were looking in their direction, and Aidon pondered how to pursue this without making a scene. "Um... Is there someplace we can talk? Privately."
"Sir, you're going to have to give me a reason," she replied, still wondering what the crazy man was talking about.
"I... I know who you are," he stammered, resisting the urge to open himself to the Force and speak directly into her mind. "I'm one like you."
Tiliya faltered, suddenly realizing what he was talking about. She started to turn, but went back to face him. "I would, but I'm working now," she said, then leaned down next to him, whispering intensely almost into his face. "I've left that behind me. For your own sake, you should, too." She got to her feet, spun on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen.
Aidon watched her go, conscious of the many people who had witnessed the exchange. One by one they turned back to their meals, writing them up as two lovers in a spat, or a simple misunderstanding. Aidon himself was in shock. Finally, after all these years! But she didn't even give him a chance to explain, to present his case. How could she be like this, waiting tables in a two-bit restaurant! There was so much she knew, from being on the inside; so much she could help the resistance with!
He stared down at the table, the datapad and his coffee going ignored. Well, there was nothing he could do. If she didn't want to have anything to do with the Rebellion or some has-been Jedi Apprentice, there wasn't anything he could do to change her mind. Aidon got to his feet, reaching into his pocket to pay for his beverage. He also threw a little something extra on the table as a tip. Maybe it would do something to convince her the galaxy wasn't all bad. He was about to leave, but stopped and looked at the pile of credits on the table. This would be the part in a holo-film where the shady protagonist would scribble some instructions on a napkin or the back of a business card, directions on what the reluctant heroine should do should she change her mind. Then the next day she would show up, join the cause, and fight the good fight.
Aidon shook the thoughts from his mind as he turned and headed for the door. Some things weren't quite that simple. This was something he'd have to tackle alone. All alone.
---==((.!:*:!.))==---
--Desital Street Detention Facility
"And you're sure this is the man who attacked you?"
"Yeah, I'm sure!" the guard snapped back. "I don't know what that guy hit me with, but my memory's still fine."
Kravyen put the photo back into the pocket of his suit. "I see. You are not to divulge the events of this night to anyone but me. Understand?"
"Sure, whatever. Just catch the punk, all right?"
The older man sneered. "I intend to do just that," he muttered as he spun on his heel and headed farther into the facility. Word of the prison escape had been quickly reported to Imperial Command, and Kravyen and his partner had been dispatched to the scene to investigate. He already knew what it was, and who it was -- Command wouldn't have sent him if it weren't. He just had to prove it, and bring the two of them closer together. Coruscant was a big place, to material standards. But when one had certain tools at his disposal, you could very easily find the proverbial needle in a haystack.
Dolar was on the lower level, checking out the floor where the break- out took place. According to the guards no one had come up out of the elevator, so there had to be some way that they all escaped from there. The lift doors opened and Kravyen stepped out, immediately spotting Dolar and another guard at the end of the hallway. She was helping the man off the floor into a sitting position. He strode purposefully over to them, requesting a status report from his partner.
"He suffered a minor concussion," she replied. "Someone whapped him in the back of the head something fierce."
His eyes narrowed. "Any signs of a struggle?"
Dolar shook her head. "Nope."
"That's his MO all right," he growled and looked around. How could he always be one step ahead of them? "How did they escape?"
She stood and shrugged. "Don' know. There aren't any signs of him anywhere on the level."
"He had to have gotten out somehow..." Kravyen mused, glancing around. There weren't too many places he could have gone. "Could they have gone to sublevel two?"
"They said he didn't come out onto the ground floor, so it's possible."
Kravyen headed for the elevator, Dolar one step behind him. He pressed the call button for the lift and the doors opened immediately. The two stepped inside. The man's mind raced for options as the car began its journey up one level. How could he have escaped with three prisoners of war from a sublevel? There couldn't have been nearly enough time to dig a tunnel, and none of the prisoners on sublevel two had seen anything, as with the ones on sublevel one. The only thing around them underground was...
A flash of realization crossed Kravyen's face. "The Lotlins Line..."
Dolar got it, too. "Aw, gawd! The subrail tunnels? He could be anywhere!"
"Not quite," he replied, jabbing the button to stop the lift and take it back down to the basement. Next he pulled a comlink out of his pocket and keyed it to the detention facility's frequency. "Can you force the lift doors to stay open?"
It was a moment before a flustered officer answered. "Uh, yes. Yes, sir. Right away, sir."
The lift stopped and Kravyen ordered the car back up as he exited. Dolar had just enough time to step out herself before it started up. As the lift car lurched and ascended, the man switched on the beam strapped to his wrist, shining it down into the shaft. There was a roughly-cut hole at the bottom, and the darkness of the subrail tunnel was behind it. Without hesitation Kravyen jumped in, landing in a crouch at the bottom.
Dolar waited patiently for him, and it wasn't long before he called up to her. "Footprint signature's a match. Call the Council. Tell them that we have confirmation of Krinstaf in this sector."
--2-
GOLDEN REBOUND
--Rebellion HQ
"What happened?" Aidon asked as he entered the War Room.
"'Golden Fall' was a failure," Shado replied, looking up from the table. "Some-how the Imperials got intel on the op and intercepted the teams. All are either killed or missing. We know the Imps captured at least four of them. The bodies weren't in the warehouse."
"Any ideas on where they're being held?" Aidon wasn't one to beat around the bush.
Tracer spoke up. "Detention facility four clicks from here. Not the highest security, but they're being kept in the bottommost level, sublevel three. Only way in is through the lobby."
"Great," he replied sarcastically. "We're planning extraction?"
Shado held up his hands and shook his head. "Not this time. Too dangerous. Even if we got someone in, there doesn't seem to be any way to get them out, to say nothing of the agents we're trying to bring home."
Aidon placed his hands on the table. "So we're doing nothing?"
"What I'm saying is there's nothing we can do. Our best bet is to wait until prisoner transfer. Maybe we can ambush them then."
"When will that be?"
"A week, maybe two," Tracer replied.
He shook his head. "That's too long. I've seen how the Imps operate. By tomorrow they could get some of them to crack, spill the location of the base. We have to get them out of there before then."
Shado mulled it over for a moment, staring down at the table. "Aidon, there's been a leak." The agent had figured that, from what he was being told. "I don't know how far it goes, but I know I can trust you two. We can't risk sending in a hostage team, so you'd be going alone."
Aidon shook his head. "No, no. I can't do hostages. I get in, I get out. I can't handle rescues. Too often they... don't work out."
The elder man looked him in the eye. "It's either you alone or we try for an ambush in two weeks. You're right, they may spill the beans. I don't like that any more than you do. But if we try something, we have to try it now. We obviously didn't catch them off guard like I had hoped, but if we keep this between the three of us, maybe we can make this one a success."
Aidon thought about it. He didn't like it at all. The odds of him infiltrating an enemy facility were always slim, but if he had four other bodies to worry about, four other targets... "Tracer?"
He heard her swallow. "If we can find a way out of the holding area without worrying about guards, there may be a way. A risky way, but still... If you want to do this, we can try."
Do, or do not... he remembered the old Jedi lesson from so long ago. There is no try. There was pass, and there was fail. Nothing in between. "We have to get them out of there," he finally said. "The risk is worth it."
---==((.!:*:!.))==---
--Imperial Communications Bunker CORUS-56
The engineering tool snaked its way down the fire-charred mass of electronics equipment, passing around the molten chunks of metal and silicon until it finally scraped against something solid. The engineer wiggled the tool slightly to make sure it could go no further, then he started reeling the device back in. "Looks like one-point-three, maybe -point-four meters," he said aloud. "The blast went pretty deep."
Officer Matlyg's eyes narrowed. "So this was no accident."
The engineer shook his head. "No way, sir. This was-" His voice abruptly cut off as it lowered an octave. "This was definitely sabotage, sir."
Matlyg took a deep breath. "I will contact Imperial Command immediately. They must know of this." He turned his attention back to the man. "How long to repair it?"
The engineer surveyed the damage to the antenna. "If all my men work on it... Three, four days, tops."
"Begin work immediately," the officer commanded. "We need that antenna repaired."
"Right away, sir."
Matlyg spun on his heel and headed for the stairway. A saboteur! On his facility! The Emperor would not take it lightly. Matlyg heard the stories told of Imperial officers who messed up a job. There was no doubt in his mind that he was probably not going to keep his rank; perhaps not even his life, if the stories were true. There had to be someone he could drag down with him. Maybe that trooper, who was guarding the south catwalk. Yes, Matlyg could get him to face the firing squad right along with him, proverbial or not. But there was no hurry to report this. In the meantime, there were some things the officer could do to find out who this infiltrator was. He wasn't going to take this lying down, either.
---==((.!:*:!.))==---
--Desital Street Detention Facility
The black van slid slowly to a stop in the alleyway, headlights off, modified engine running strangely silent to avoid detection. In the cockpit, the driver snapped the vehicle into park, turning the key to shut off the engine. The nearly unnoticeable hum around them ceased. She glanced at the man in the passenger seat, who was busying himself with checking his pistol's ammo gauge and clipping the lightsaber back onto his belt. Without a word he opened the door and slipped into the night, taking a dozen steps from the van before turning back. She was grabbing a comlink pack from behind the driver's seat, affixing a headset and switching it on.
"Comm check," Tracer said, her voice coming through the comlink in Aidon's ear.
"Loud and clear," the agent answered, not having to tap his ear like the last mission because the link this time was forced open. She would be able to hear everything around him.
Aidon and Tracer had spent the hours since morning devising their EAE (entry and execution) for the facility, how he would get in to find the prisoners. Aidon had committed the floor plan to memory, and Tracer also had the satellite uplink active to let her see the building from an orbital viewpoint, which included infrared and night vision. She would be watching his movements from the van, while also keeping an eye on activity inside. Aidon made his way to the street, then started for the building.
"All right, Aidon. Nothing's changed," Tracer's voice sounded in his ear. "One guy to the left of the door, two guys in the room beyond. The door to the next room's on the far side of the lobby, past the two guys and a metal detector. Do your magic."
Aidon heard the tone in her voice and smiled. She always assumed he had something up his sleeve, and she was usually right. He scaled the steps to the facility's door, his mind racing through his options as he gripped the handle. Gunshot: he's probably behind magsealed glass. Sneak past: no, he'll hear the door open. Straight threatening: yeah, right...
The officer looked up from his booth as the door opened. Upon seeing Aidon and his all-black getup, his eyes widened somewhat, which gave way to a more skeptical gaze. "I'm sorry, sir. We're not accepting visitors now."
He approached the booth with confidence. "I just need some information," he said, his voice strong, low, and commanding.
"Or course, sir, but..."
Aidon phased the voice out of his head as his he closed his eyes, tapping into the energy of the Force. Beneath his lids, his eyes rolled up into his sockets, his body slightly quaking as the power trickled into him. He almost thought he heard the man saying, "Sir, are you all right?" Through the power of the Force he could see his body, hunched against the wall, the man inside the booth and -- faintly -- the two men in the next room. He focused on the man before him, scanning him with his mind, finding the nerve he needed to pinch. Aidon's eyes flashed open and he glared at the man, releasing the energy he had been building inside himself. A look of surprise crossed the man's face as he abruptly straightened, before collapsing on the floor of the booth.
The agent circled the divider into the booth, kneeling beside the man and feeling for a pulse. There was one, but very faint. He was content with that, and began searching his body for his control key. Hopefully he had enough security clearance to bypass most of the security locks in the building. "What did you do to him?" Tracer asked.
"Used the Force to knock him out," Aidon answered, pocketing the key and getting to his feet. "That's one of the skills I didn't learn at the Jedi Temple."
"You're taking kind of a chance with that, aren't you? Using your powers and everything? Security cam, north wall."
Aidon exited the booth and began scanning the walls of the room for the holocam. "Maybe, but that's the only way I could think of to get past him."
"All right, but don't get used to it," she answered, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "We don't need our star player killed by Imps because they tracked his Force signature."
"Gotcha," he answered, spotting the camera on the north wall. He pulled out the pistol from his jacket, lined up the target, and fired. The silenced shot melted through the metal case, frying the electronics thoroughly. Aidon turned to the door of the next room. "Any cams in there?"
"Hold on, let me check..." There was a pause, and he could hear the tapping of computer keys through the speaker. "Yeah, just one. Oscillating, about seven-second intervals."
"Okay," he answered, approaching the door. How was he going to do this one? "Seven seconds..." he mused, a plan already formulating in his head. "Tracer, could I bother you for a diversion?"
"What did you have in mind?" she replied. Aidon could hear the smile on her lips.
"How about a minor electrical failure?" he suggested, a smile forming on his face as well.
"I'm on it, give me a sec." He heard the computer keys again. "Just to warn you," she added, sounding preoccupied. "If this is a half-way decent facility, they'll have a backup generator. It should kick in after five seconds, during which time the lights, the metal detector, and the camera will all be dead. You have that long to pass through without making a sound."
"Understood."
"All right, you've got darkness... now."
For a second nothing happened, but immediately after that moment of doubt the lights flickered and died. Aidon yanked on the door handle, passing the threshold while the sounds of confusion from one of the guards came to his ears. "What's going on?"
"Don't worry about it," the other one replied, a hint of uneasiness in his voice as well. "Must be a power failure. The backup generator should turn on..." -- the lights flickered back to life -- "There ya go." The guards looked around. There was no sign that anyone else had entering the room: both doors were closed, and neither of them had heard a thing.
Aidon had already retreated around the corner to the turbolift that led to the detention facility's sublevels. He reached up to insert the guard's control key and tap the button, and a quiet hum sounded from the other side of the door. This once again drew the attention of the guards in their booths, and one of them started for the elevator. The agent had no choice but to hustle to the opposite side of the hall, crouching down into the shadows. The elevator door and the door to the guard's booth opened at about the same time. The prison guard walked out into the hall, immediately noticing the open lift door and going over to investigate. He poked his head in to look around the lift car, then returned to his booth, muttering something about "lousy defective machinery." The door to the booth closed, and Aidon had just enough time to run down the hall and slip into the elevator car before the doors closed. He jabbed the button marked "S3," then took a moment to catch his breath as the car slid down the shaft.
It wasn't long before Tracer's voice again issued over his earpiece. "Aidon, what was that all about?"
Aidon swallowed. "Had a bit of a problem getting in the lift."
Tracer's voice stayed annoyingly calm. "Do we have a potential stealth leak?"
He shook his head even though she couldn't see it. "I don't think so. They're writing it off as equipment failure."
There was a pause. "Watch it, Aidon. We're treading dangerously close to the abort-mission line."
"I know, I know," he answered. An electronic marker above the doors counted the floors: S1... S2... S3. The doors opened, and Aidon slipped silently out of the elevator. The third sublevel of the detention facility was by far drearier than the lobby, and decidedly more Imperial in design. The room adjacent to the turbolift was roughly circular, with a console pedestal in the center, and a stairway leading up to a hexagonal hallway lined with holding cells. There were strips of lights at each side of that hallway, casting a weak, red glow. The only sounds were the hum of the walls and the clanking of a man's boots down the metal hallway. Aidon looked, seeing a guard slowly patrolling the detention hallway, rifle held in a loose grip across his chest. He was already far enough down the hall as to not hear the turbolift door opening.
Aidon circled around the control console to the right side of the hallway, peeking around the corner with his back to the wall. The hallway was about twenty-five meters long, and the man was fifteen meters from the end. If he was going to check every cell before circling around, he would have his back turned for only a fraction of a minute more. The agent took off in a low crouch, going just fast enough to keep his heel-toe mode of movement from making a sound against the metal grating of the floor. Slowly he closed the distance between him and the guard, gradually slowing as he crept nearer and nearer. Aidon mentally counted down the distance: Five meters... four meters... three meters... He carefully reached into his jacket now, sliding the pistol there out of its holster. Two meters... He took this moment to strike, bringing the butt of the gun down on the man's skull. There was the barest sound of surprise from the guard as he straightened before crumpling to the floor with a clang.
"All right," Aidon said, replacing his gun. "Where are they?"
"Well done," Tracer lauded. "Um... Cell Thirteen. Go get 'em."
He began searching for the correct room. "Now, tell me again: how are we getting out of here undetected?"
"Yeah, um, I've been thinking about that. Actually, I'm still working out the particulars. Give me another minute."
Aidon sighed. Despite all their planning the two of them still couldn't figure out an extraction safer than storming back out the lobby. There might have been a chance if he was going out alone, but he would have four liberated prisoners to deal with as well. He found the door marked with a large "13" and picked the side controls with one of Tracer's electronic lockpicks. The door recessed into the wall slid aside with a slight hiss, and he could sense the apprehension coming from the room's occupants, fearing that their captors had returned. The light switch for the room was beside the door controls; Aidon tapped those as well before entering.
"Who are you?" one of them asked, squinting against the glare of the glow panels.
"I'm Aidon Krinstaf, I'm here to rescue you," he replied, looking around to the beings in the room. There was the man who addressed him, and older man with streaks of gray hair at his temples. Sitting up slowly on the cot on the corner was a young woman, probably two or three years younger than he. On the floor beside her was a young man in his late twenties, looking every bit the ragamuffin teenager that made up the majority of the Rebellion's fighting force. "Three..." he said, mostly to himself.
"What? Who are you?" the man repeated.
Aidon ignored him, reaching up to press the receiver into his ear. "Tracer, didn't Shado say there were four?"
"Hold on... Blast it, these damned sensors can't go that far into the facility. How many are there in the cell?"
"Just three."
"We know the Imps got four of our people: Kragen, Solazar, Kree, and Lagenly. There weren't any transfer orders given here either."
He looked around the room again. "I've got Kragen, Solazar, and Kree, but Lagenly's not here." Aidon knelt down by Kragen, looking directly into the old man's eyes. "Where's Lagenly? Where did the Imps move him to?"
"Now hold on just a damn minute," the grizzled man grumbled, lifting himself to his feet. "Who in the galaxy are you?"
"I'm with the Rebellion," Aidon told him patiently, and the man's face visibly softened. "I've got a van waiting outside to take you back to HQ. Now can someone tell me where Lagenly is?"
Lanii Solazar got to her feet. "Lag's gone. They took him away earlier today... about eight hours ago."
"Tracer, you got that?"
"Loud and clear," she said, her voice heavy.
"Do we have a leak?"
"Doesn't matter if we do. There's nothing we can do about it from here. I'll call HQ for orders, but you know what Shado's gonna say, anyway."
"Right," he replied, turning to face the captives. "Who's the best with a blaster?"
Kragen spoke up. "Those two are techies. I guess I've had the most practice."
Aidon pulled the borrowed pistol from a hip holster and held it out to the man, butt first. "Go ahead and bring up the rear."
Kragen took the gun and nodded, checking the ammo gauge like a pro. It took only a minute for Aidon to issue movement orders, then they were all out in the hallway. "Okay, Tracer, now would be the time for your escape plan."
"Right, um... Okay, Aidon, I got something, but I need your help. The lift you came down in might have a way out, but like I said, my satellite won't go that far down. I'm working only off blueprints, but I think you should be able to blast open the bottom of the lift tube and into an old subrail tunnel underneath."
"How do we get rid of the lift car?"
"You'll have to trigger the door manually, and I can keep the doors open from here. But you'll need to work fast. If the Imps decide to come down to 'check things out,' you, ah, could be crushed."
"Splendid."
"Just let me know when you're in position."
Aidon stepped over to the turbolift shaft and pressed the button; the doors slid open with a ding that sounded much too loud in the silence. He stepped inside, positioning his finger right above the button that would take the car to the upper level. "Doors locked open?"
"Got it. Do your thing."
He pressed the button and slid out of the car just as it lurched and began its ascent. As soon as there was a space between the floor and the bottom of the car wide enough to fit through, Aidon jumped into the shaft and dropped the two meters to the ground. He pulled his lightsaber from his belt, igniting it with a snap-hiss and casting a blue glow into the shaft. He inverted it from a standard fighting stance above his head, thrusting it down through the floor of the shaft in a spray of sparks. Beneath the tube was probably a meter or two of solid rock between him and the subrail shaft, which he needed to cut through before the car came back down again. It was slow going, but Aidon was soon able to move the saber across the metal plating in a circular motion. In just under one minute he had completed the circle; a single kick to the plating made the incision complete, and the plating fell through the floor.
Standing on the small part of the floor that was left Aidon helped the three ex-captives down the lift tube to freedom, warning them that the drop might be farther than it seemed. First Kragen, then Solazar, and lastly Kree went down the hole, each shouting an "all-clear" once they were away from the hole, allowing the next person to pass down. As Kree dropped down the shaft, Aidon looked around, wondering if he should even bother with trying to cover up the damage. As he decided against it, Tracer's voice came through: "Aidon, are they down?"
"Yeah, now it's just me."
"All right, listen. The comm probably won't work down in the tunnel, so I'm giving you directions now. Once down, the path should lead east to west. Go west. About two hundred meters down there should be a small access tunnel to the right; it should lead..." -- a pause as she checked the maintenance blueprint again -- "...yeah, to a ladder that will take you to the surface. When you come back up I'll let you know where the van's parked."
"Gotcha. Thanks, Tracer."
"Be careful, Aidon."
"See you on the other side," he said and dropped down the hole.
It was pitch dark. Aidon quickly remedied that by holding his lightsaber aloft and igniting the azure blade. The shadows retreated, bathing everything in an electric blue light. Looking around, he spotted the three who had gone before him, the glow reflecting unreal off their faces. "Let's go," he called to them, his voice echoing in the tunnel. He led the way in the directions Tracer had given him, the lightsaber lighting the way down the subrail tunnel.
---==((.!:*:!.))==---
--Skyway Twelve Diner, Downtown Coruscant
Aidon Krinstaf sat in a booth in the Café Skyway, idly sipping a cup of coffee and staring out into traffic through the window that dominated the east wall of the establishment. He liked to come here after missions. It was quiet, in an area close enough to the "respectable" areas of the city- planet, but not close enough to risk being seen by Imperial soldiers. Here he could be alone with his thoughts, looking out at the people passing by on the street, most of them not even aware there was a galactic civil war being fought. It was a throwback to a simpler time in his life as well, were he would have helped keep the peace in a civilized Republic, instead of committing espionage against a tyrannical Empire.
Operation "Golden Rebound" had been executed without a hitch. After leading the three escapees through the subrail tunnel they had rendezvoused with Tracer in the extraction vehicle and gotten back to HQ. He gave his debrief to Tracer and Shado -- nothing spectacular had happened, so it was short. Shado did have some gripes with the man Aidon had psychically knocked out, but that couldn't have been helped. Afterwards, Aidon had been released, had headed back home to store his weapons and change his clothes, then down to the diner as a gentle rain began to fall.
He took another sip of coffee, watching as a taxi slid to a stop on the other side of the street to let on passengers, then drove away into the mist. His gaze swept around the room, taking in the couples sitting in a few of the other booths, the waitresses scurrying about, taking and delivering orders. The was a constant hum in the air from the conversations being held around him, mingled with the droning of the machinery from some back room somewhere.
Aidon turned back to his table, noticing a jack-in port for portable computers. He fished a datapad from his pocket and plugged it in, using the diner's InfoNet link to access a newswire. The Imperial Information Network was the chief supplier of galactic news to the populace, and of course they always put their special spin on things so that the Empire was never wrong. It was a tactic that had been perfected by countless dictatorships before it, but none had ever attempted the controlling of information on this great a scale. The Empire did, unfortunately, pull it off impeccably. The headline for the day was about a dignitary from Alzoc III, who had been assassinated by terrorists while visiting Coruscant as part of a diplomatic envoy. Imperial soldiers had captured those responsible, the report said, and that the "heinous crime would not go unpunished." Aidon grimaced. The details of that same event had been circulating around the Resistance as well, and they said that the Imps had murdered the emissary, not a rogue faction. The Talz from Alzoc III had been grateful to know the true story, which had increased their willingness to assist the revolution.
Aidon scrolled down on the datapad, scanning the headings of some of the other events over the past day. The mission at the supply depot had made the news, which of course had been touted as "a decisive Imperial victory over the dissenting factions." They even had a photo and some quotes from the garrison commander who had led the attack. Handsome fella, for an Imp.
He set the datapad down on the table and rubbed his head, again reaching for his cup. There were days when the job really got to him; this was one of them. Always looking over his shoulders for the authorities, operating under the cover of darkness -- covert ops was definitely not for the weak of heart. Aidon looked out the window again, watching two Ishi Tib exit a store on the opposite side of the street and move to hail a hovercab. They were laughing -- from what he could make out from that distance -- enjoying each other's company on the rainy night on Coruscant.
He set the coffee cup back down on the table, half-wishing Tracer was with him. As usual, she had to stay at HQ and run some late-night diagnostics on the Rebellion's ridiculously large computer network. There were only five people on the force who could understand what to do, and there was only one who knew which wiring connections needed the extra attention, on account of that she helped build it. Tracer lovingly referred to the networks by silly little pet names, and watched over it like a mother. Aidon admired her for her dedication to duty and perseverance of mind, but wished in his heart that she would take it easy for once.
The waitress returned with an offer to refill his cup; he accepted. As she reached over with the pitcher Aidon stole a glance at her name tag: "Tiliya" it read in small, non-descript letters. "I used to know a Tiliya," he said, his mind somewhat detached. But that was a long time ago, he didn't say. Before the dark times...
"Hm?" she answered, not really listening.
"Never mind," he shook his head and returned to his datapad. She gave a practiced waitress's smile and turned to go.
That's when Aidon felt the small ripple in the base of his skull. Nothing more than a tickle, enough to get his attention, but he knew what it meant. He sensed a presence, an individual with ties to the energy of the Force. It was strong and close, and now all his suspicions were confirmed.
"Can I help you, sir?" Tiliya asked him, fear and surprise in her voice. Aidon looked up, then noticed that his hand had thrust out and grabbed hold of her arm.
He quickly released her, his head swimming with the connotations of his realization. "You're... You're Tiliya."
"Sir, are you all right? I can call an ambulance if-"
Several people were looking in their direction, and Aidon pondered how to pursue this without making a scene. "Um... Is there someplace we can talk? Privately."
"Sir, you're going to have to give me a reason," she replied, still wondering what the crazy man was talking about.
"I... I know who you are," he stammered, resisting the urge to open himself to the Force and speak directly into her mind. "I'm one like you."
Tiliya faltered, suddenly realizing what he was talking about. She started to turn, but went back to face him. "I would, but I'm working now," she said, then leaned down next to him, whispering intensely almost into his face. "I've left that behind me. For your own sake, you should, too." She got to her feet, spun on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen.
Aidon watched her go, conscious of the many people who had witnessed the exchange. One by one they turned back to their meals, writing them up as two lovers in a spat, or a simple misunderstanding. Aidon himself was in shock. Finally, after all these years! But she didn't even give him a chance to explain, to present his case. How could she be like this, waiting tables in a two-bit restaurant! There was so much she knew, from being on the inside; so much she could help the resistance with!
He stared down at the table, the datapad and his coffee going ignored. Well, there was nothing he could do. If she didn't want to have anything to do with the Rebellion or some has-been Jedi Apprentice, there wasn't anything he could do to change her mind. Aidon got to his feet, reaching into his pocket to pay for his beverage. He also threw a little something extra on the table as a tip. Maybe it would do something to convince her the galaxy wasn't all bad. He was about to leave, but stopped and looked at the pile of credits on the table. This would be the part in a holo-film where the shady protagonist would scribble some instructions on a napkin or the back of a business card, directions on what the reluctant heroine should do should she change her mind. Then the next day she would show up, join the cause, and fight the good fight.
Aidon shook the thoughts from his mind as he turned and headed for the door. Some things weren't quite that simple. This was something he'd have to tackle alone. All alone.
---==((.!:*:!.))==---
--Desital Street Detention Facility
"And you're sure this is the man who attacked you?"
"Yeah, I'm sure!" the guard snapped back. "I don't know what that guy hit me with, but my memory's still fine."
Kravyen put the photo back into the pocket of his suit. "I see. You are not to divulge the events of this night to anyone but me. Understand?"
"Sure, whatever. Just catch the punk, all right?"
The older man sneered. "I intend to do just that," he muttered as he spun on his heel and headed farther into the facility. Word of the prison escape had been quickly reported to Imperial Command, and Kravyen and his partner had been dispatched to the scene to investigate. He already knew what it was, and who it was -- Command wouldn't have sent him if it weren't. He just had to prove it, and bring the two of them closer together. Coruscant was a big place, to material standards. But when one had certain tools at his disposal, you could very easily find the proverbial needle in a haystack.
Dolar was on the lower level, checking out the floor where the break- out took place. According to the guards no one had come up out of the elevator, so there had to be some way that they all escaped from there. The lift doors opened and Kravyen stepped out, immediately spotting Dolar and another guard at the end of the hallway. She was helping the man off the floor into a sitting position. He strode purposefully over to them, requesting a status report from his partner.
"He suffered a minor concussion," she replied. "Someone whapped him in the back of the head something fierce."
His eyes narrowed. "Any signs of a struggle?"
Dolar shook her head. "Nope."
"That's his MO all right," he growled and looked around. How could he always be one step ahead of them? "How did they escape?"
She stood and shrugged. "Don' know. There aren't any signs of him anywhere on the level."
"He had to have gotten out somehow..." Kravyen mused, glancing around. There weren't too many places he could have gone. "Could they have gone to sublevel two?"
"They said he didn't come out onto the ground floor, so it's possible."
Kravyen headed for the elevator, Dolar one step behind him. He pressed the call button for the lift and the doors opened immediately. The two stepped inside. The man's mind raced for options as the car began its journey up one level. How could he have escaped with three prisoners of war from a sublevel? There couldn't have been nearly enough time to dig a tunnel, and none of the prisoners on sublevel two had seen anything, as with the ones on sublevel one. The only thing around them underground was...
A flash of realization crossed Kravyen's face. "The Lotlins Line..."
Dolar got it, too. "Aw, gawd! The subrail tunnels? He could be anywhere!"
"Not quite," he replied, jabbing the button to stop the lift and take it back down to the basement. Next he pulled a comlink out of his pocket and keyed it to the detention facility's frequency. "Can you force the lift doors to stay open?"
It was a moment before a flustered officer answered. "Uh, yes. Yes, sir. Right away, sir."
The lift stopped and Kravyen ordered the car back up as he exited. Dolar had just enough time to step out herself before it started up. As the lift car lurched and ascended, the man switched on the beam strapped to his wrist, shining it down into the shaft. There was a roughly-cut hole at the bottom, and the darkness of the subrail tunnel was behind it. Without hesitation Kravyen jumped in, landing in a crouch at the bottom.
Dolar waited patiently for him, and it wasn't long before he called up to her. "Footprint signature's a match. Call the Council. Tell them that we have confirmation of Krinstaf in this sector."
