Kaevee sat with her elbows on the dining table before her, her fingers welded together while she hoped, or wished, that something worth contributing would come into her mind. They were a standard day from Krylon now, and everyone had had time to go through Lannik Mai's information in its entirety. During her Jedi training, Kaevee had not been exceptional at studying, but she remembered that she'd always put the time in just out of principle. At least I have that going for me.

To her right, Cole was drumming his fingers on the table with nervous energy as he talked. "This whole thing is a bad joke. All we really have is a way to get onto the station, but once we do, we're just supposed to be cargo jockeys picking up depleted cryo-cylinders or whatever. No one's gonna let us leave the dock and go snooping around on some big, fancy government station. So where does that leave us? Just go in guns blazing against two or three thousand guards? Not the worst way to die, I suppose. Especially if you get it nice and good in the head."

Atton was lounging against the rim of the holotable. His face—tinged blue by the glowing diagram of Torque Highport—was a mask of laboriously-maintained patience; Kaevee had often gotten such looks from him. "Well, obviously that plan is out," he said to Cole. "Your galaxy-sized brain would make too easy a target. So where does that leave us?"

The spacer snorted a laugh, then settled in his chair a little. "Well, sneaking's the best way to steal anything. What do smugglers say? If nobody knows you're there, you win."

The two men nodded. In the Force, Atton was characteristically difficult to read, but Cole's friendly appreciation seemed genuine. Kaevee observed in puzzlement; one day they seemed to hate each other, and the next it was like they were old friends.

"True, but that's a tall order here." Turning to the holotable, Atton tapped a few keys. The schematic expanded and its detail quintupled, outlining hallways, junctions, and turbolifts. His finger zigzagged through the network of lines as he narrated a few possible routes between the depot level and the prefect's office at the top of the station, pointing out security doors, force fields, and guard stations.

Kaevee tried to follow along, but thought she would go cross-eyed at any minute. Once or twice her gaze drifted to the seat on her left, where Atris traced invisible lines on the floor with the point of her cane.

Desperate as Kaevee herself was to contribute something useful, she couldn't help thinking that the mission overall was really up to Atton and Atris. They undeniably had more skills and knowledge, both mundane and Force-related, than she could imagine. All the same, she felt bad for expecting so much of them; they deserved something from her.

Cole, of course, was more or less a non-factor. As far as Kaevee was concerned, he ought to have been left to wander about the ship like the two droids.

"Of course, that's all just me going in alone with the stealth belt, since none of you can use one," Atton said—cavalier as usual—before singling out Kaevee with a look. "Especially not you."

On Ord Vaxal, he had happened to mention the usefulness of personal stealth field generators and Kaevee, taking this as a hint, asked to be trained in the basics. As SIS agents they'd been given free rein of a training room in the Republic base, without the prying eyes of its regular personnel—which was good, because Kaevee's attempts there ended up being as embarrassing as they were tedious.

Obviously the technology was going to have limits. The invisibility it granted was imperfect and could be completely disrupted by any movement that was too sudden. But most of all, Kaevee simply had not been able to overcome the disorientation, the involuntary borderline-panic that resulted from not being able to see herself.

Kaevee drew her hands back toward herself, bristling—less at the unwelcome memory, though, than at Cole, who laughed even though he hadn't been there. Thankfully, his mirth withered when Atris sent a scowl his way.

"Well, that's still a long shot," he said in a stilted tone. "Getting through half the station on your own. Is a stealth field even gonna last you long enough to get to that squid-head's office?"

Atton eyed the network of lines within the schematic like it was a giant solif-spider's web, waiting for him to walk into it. "Maybe, maybe not."

A soft tap of Atris's cane against the deck drew everyone's attention. "Someone must stay to watch the ship, but we cannot send only one to our objective. And stealth fields—such technology is unreliable. Better to hide in plain sight."

"You mean going in disguise," said Kaevee, thinking out loud. "A better disguise than we have. Who would they allow to go through the station?"

"Anyone who looks like they belong on board. Soldiers or guards, officers. Workers. Bureaucrats and administrators like the ones who live there. But we'd need uniforms, fake IDs, whatever security clearance they'd have..." Atton trailed off, seemingly finishing the list in his head.

Cole squirmed in his seat and grimaced. "Not to mention, we couldn't show up on the depot level, or in a freighter like this. If we decide on a con other than the one Lannik had in mind, we'll need to get a whole 'nother ship, one that looks the part. Which case, what—we just hope the guy on Krylon has a spare he's willing to part with?"

And they spent a while going in circles. Mostly it was the two men proposing and debating different guises to adopt, and how each one would affect other parts of the mission, while Atris occasionally offered a modest, strategic comment. Kaevee was left struggling to keep up, as usual.

It went without saying that the plan couldn't be finalized until they reached Krylon and learned what the contact could supply them with; all the same, she felt uneasy about how little progress they were making. Meanwhile, Cole seemed more than uneasy, fidgeting and gesticulating as he poked holes in everything Atton suggested. When the spacer's energy seemed spent, he planted an elbow on the table and rubbed his eyes. "Of all the sectors to die in, why the Gordian?"

"You are not helping," Atris informed him.

"This is beyond helping. That admiral wants us to get captured." Cole let his hand fall and thump down on the table. "We might as well go in dressed like a couple of Sith Lords or something."

He laughed in derision—but when he realized that everyone was staring at him now, he went on, suddenly energized. "Wait a minute—seriously! This is actually the best idea we've had so far. If that squid-head governor's a Sith and we need to get into his office, then we should just turn up saying we're Sith, and we have some important message for him. No need to sneak around or deal with security. The whole frackin' station will get out of our way."

Kaevee wasn't sure what to make of it; just a minute ago there had been nothing to suggest Cole was intoxicated. "How are we supposed to disguise ourselves as Sith?" she demanded.

"I dunno how you're supposed to. Him on the other hand?" Cole cut his gaze to Atton. "He's great at bolshitting people. Isn't that right?"

The look of flustered humility on Atton's face was alien to him. "You know, Cole, I... I think you might be on to something there. And actually, Atris, you'd do a great job. Just switch out that cloak for a black one, say you're a spry young Sith witch of a few thousand years—you'll pass, no problem."

Kaevee expected Cole to guffaw at that, but all he did was eye the old woman covertly; he seemed relieved to no longer be the center of attention.

For an uncomfortable moment Atris's whole body seemed to tighten with restraint. "The plan has some merit," she admitted at last, letting out a breath. Given time, the slight quirk in her mouth could perhaps have developed into a smile.

On the other hand, Kaevee thought that this idea needed more justification. "How can it be that easy? Won't they still try to ID us?"

"They should, but they won't," said Cole. "Vac-brains."

She looked to Atton for an explanation, and he obliged. "Think of it this way. If you're an ordinary Remnant guard and some angry Sith wants to go past you, you're not going to make a fuss about his authorization if you want to keep your head. Not unless there's another Sith right there backing you up. And from the data Lannik gave us, there shouldn't be any on that station except Korlen Olligard."

"You make it sound so easy."

"In a way it is. All we've got to do is dress the part and act like they'd expect."

"Um, to be clear, that's all you've got to do," Cole put in. "I'm not volunteering. Wouldn't work anyway. That squid-head'll sense that I don't have the Force like you people do, and..."

He finished the sentence with a wave of his hand, and Kaevee looked away in disdain. She needed no convincing that he had to be kept well away from the Sith—his near-hysteria as he had tried to slice the door security back on Gulvitch was the latest proof of that—but she didn't understand why he was so eager to advertise his own cowardice.

"Don't worry, we're not sending you down the sarlacc's maw this time," Atton said with mock sympathy. "No, I think... We'll need Atris to play up the decrepit, ominous old witch angle—to look like she's in charge. But she'll need somebody to play an apprentice, and it's gotta be me so I can slice into Olligard's records. After I kill him, I guess." Casual weariness crept into his tone, as if he were reciting a series of chores that he'd been procrastinating on.

Cole crooked an eyebrow. "So you're killing the squid too? Bonus, I guess, if you don't mind being buried in guards right after."

"The guards won't come running immediately if I do it quietly. Which I can, long as I catch him off-guard."

"Well, I'm out of credits, so don't expect any flowers on your grave from me."

Atton brushed the joke aside. "I'm not expecting anything from you. You, Kaevee, and the droids can hang back and keep the ship ready to go. If Atris and I manage to frack things up with the prefect... Well, shooting our way back to you is better than shooting our way there and then back."

Kaevee sensed Cole stiffening in his chair just as she did the same in hers; they traded blank glances. If this ended up being the plan, then it would be the first time since Malachor that the two would be working together—close to danger, anyway—without Atton there...

Without Atton there to what? she thought, trying to banish her anxiety with scorn. To supervise us like unruly younglings? We're both adults. We don't have to like each other.

"Fine by me," Cole said, "but there's still a lot of problems here. Like again, a mysterious Sith Lord and her apprentice can't show up in this crate. Not to mention the prefect might sense something's wrong, or have some friends with him. Maybe there's more security measures that aren't shown on the schematics..." Realizing he was babbling, he shut up again.

"Leave matters of the Force to Atton and I," Atris began—but then Cole broke in, seemingly even more perturbed than before.

"You know what, frack, I just remembered something else. What about that Sith back on Gulvitch? What if he got out of there alive? What if he's following us?"

"We almost got him, and he didn't seem that smart to me. Worst he could have done was throw a short-range tracker on our hull. Which wouldn't do him much good, but we can check for one on Krylon anyway. As for Lannik and Rittu..." Atton's mouth formed a grim line. "Intel's people are good at some things. If they didn't get away, they won't be taken alive."

For a moment no one seemed to have anything to say to that. Slowly, Kaevee shook her head and wished that she had Atton's confidence—if that's what it was. "Something else could always go wrong..."

"Of course it will." As if to signal that the meeting was over, Atton switched off the holotable.

As she pushed her chair back, Kaevee realized that aside from her general anxiety about the mission, what worried her the most was not having to tolerate Cole's presence. Nor was it the danger that something might happen to Atton; by this time she knew that he could take care of himself. No, the one she was afraid to see put in danger was Atris.

Atris, to whom Kaevee owed just as much as to anyone else; who, despite being misguided, obviously cared for her; and who might be the only being still alive able to share the history, teachings, and secrets of the Jedi. Master though she had once been, she made it no secret that much of her power was gone, and on Daluuj she had been easily captured by Mira's bounty hunters. Would she fare any better against a trained Sith, even with Atton's help?

There was no hint that the old woman shared any of Kaevee's worries as her cane carried her toward the port corridor. "The Jedi had a saying," she mused. "The dark side is in the details."