Chapter 21: Ursi Ek'fon

Atzerri

Panicked yelps cut through the shocked gasps in the Spynet's Strategic Information Room. Most eyes in the room were locked onto the main viewer.

On the display, the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic and leader of a mysterious cult, Sheev Palpatine, stood in the centre of a dark room, in the basement under his retreat on Naboo. The Spynet had placed surveillance devices in every room of the complex months ago.

Very out of character, the Supreme Chancellor had discarded his elegant robes for plain black ones. He wore a hood over his head giving his pale shadowed face a corpse-like visage. Adding to his otherwise ghastly appearance, his black robes glowed in the pale blue light of the holopresences of the Chagrian Mas Amedda and Umbaran Sly Moore.

The Director of Mid Rim Operations, Ursi Ekfon, was not above feeling the collective terror of the room. Her own tan fur pressed tightly into her body the longer she watched this scene unfold, flattening her mane—which was now dyed hot pink, giving her head the unflattering appearance of a pink-tipped traffic cone.

But the panic of her underlings had grown so noisy that Ursi Ek'fon could no longer hear a thing. "SHUT UP! I CAN'T HEAR THEM!" she yelped over the commotion.

The voice of the Umbaran echoed from the loudspeakers as a technician turned the volume up. "I will keep an eye out, my Lord."

"That is all I ask, for now," Palpatine said somberly.

At that, the holopresences of Mas Amedda and Sly Moore terminated.

Palpatine walked below the camera, strolling slowly towards the yellow light emitting from the doorway. Directly under the camera, he paused, and looked up with a scowl.

"Podo zega za usmu!" ["He can see us!"] yelped a blonde furred agent, Grendusk Kray'fon.

"No he can't!" Ursi snarled in Basic, but her fur twitched with uncertainty. As Palpatine continued standing there, Ursi's gut felt so tight she couldn't breathe. Holy hell! He can see us! He can—

—The room let off a collective sigh of relief as Palpatine looked down, then walked forward into the doorframe and out of sight.

"This was real time?" Ursi growled nervously, facing one of the technicians.

"Yes Director," the brown furred Bothan answered. "Transmitted live, reflected from our relay in Chardaan."
"Well that… That's…" They know about consciousness transfer. The Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic knows. He doesn't just suspect it as we had thought—Palpatine is certain!

"Ma'am, the Fensk is entering the system, instructing them to approach pad 39," an airspace controller growled quickly, before turning back to the conversation he was having with his headset.

"Good," Ursi sighed. "Okay, we need a plan. I hope it won't be necessary to eliminate Itoll Oc'skar or Lir Sey'les, but if they cannot be freed from Republic custody, we will have to kill them. Let's call that Plan Beta. Plan Aurek… Gnilyad, I want you to devise the rescue plan. Draft it up and…" The Director's voice died. Her fur swirled nervously as she stared in the direction of an old fashioned analog keyboard connected to a rotary cylinder.

The rotary cipher cylinder atop the ancient device clicked, rotating a few spins downward, then one spin up. Then began twisting and turning more rapidly. A thin flimsiplast sheet rolled out of it. On it was a chain of numbers printed in old Base-20 Bothese numerals.

"Klotatathoya opash pa shoshoku usmu nar Leritor." ["Our friend on Leritor is calling again!"] Natasha Dar'trek yipped, her jet black fur dancing with excitement as she grinned. ["Oh! I so love using this old-fashioned thing Director! It's definitely the most rogue part of this job!"]

Ursi chuckled nervously as she approached. She gulped as she picked up the flimsiplast and began translating the numbers into letters in her head into Bothese Cyrillic. "Гин-сиса ўу са корнан шистиск операся нар корм Асонт. Сю ко дергі жарн Нияђад." ["Pause all operations on Coruscant. I am sending Reaper."]

Reaper was the name of an deathsquad based on Leritor. They were not officially Spynet, but were sent in to murder Spynet operatives who posed a threat and needed to be captured or eliminated with extreme force. Reaper excelled at making it appear as if whatever abduction or assassination they had pulled off was done by the underworld.

Or they used to be, Ursi thought to herself, noting that Trajan Kran, the Spynet's chief underworld asset, was dead. She re-read the long chain of numbers, verifying to herself that it really did say Нияђад "Reaper."

Her fur twirled unhappily on the second read. This is surely overkill. Reaper will no doubt get others killed along the way, and I am not convinced… Not convinced Itoll Oc'skar and Lir Sey'les need to be killed. Indeed, the Chancellor has found out about consciousness transfer, but he clearly has no proof besides rumours.

"Erz kor zomat nar korn owordo?" ["Is everything all right?"] Natasha asked worriedly.

"Yes," Ursi sighed, answering in Basic. "I want you to send our friend on Leritor a message—No, I shall do it…" she muttered through gritted teeth, grabbing the blasted kriffing old contraption. Moving her fingers rapidly, she began typing a message to say that she, respectfully, disagrees. That instead she should be in charge and they should prioritise—

"—Receiving another message!" Natasha yipped, fur dancing with excitement as she stared at the rotary cylinder in awe.

Ursi scowled, letting the very tips of her long canines show under her lips.

Natasha did not notice. The young Spynet tech remained fixated on a machine built before she was born. Before Ursi was born.

These stupid security measures, Ursi thought bitterly, I hate our friend on Leritor. That psychopath retired decades ago. He should mind his own kriffing business and leave us alone! I am fully capable of doing my job. The automatic doors slid open as she grabbed the message.

"Director," Vasa spoke politely as she approached Ursi from behind. "As you have no-doubt heard, my Confluence had a 50% success rate. Unfortunately, I have news to report. Our friend on Leritor discovered Fen Kar'fon was exposed, but he has been rescued and is under the care of Major Asir Kroy'lya. Lir Sey'les and Itoll Oc'skar seem to have been overheard. Fen decided not to eliminate them, a decision I disagree with but good news is…"

Ursi's fur swirled nervously. "Our friend on Leritor he—he—he is expecting me, no us..."

"He is expecting us to what?" Ro'val growled incredulously, ears perked up. "What does he expect us to do?"

"No, he's expecting us," Ursi snarled impatiently, then gasped fur falling flat. "He wants us on Leritor, now."

A ripple of nervousness passed through Ro'val's fur, then she narrowed her eyes. "All right then, let's go, Director."

"No, we can't just… Go…" Ursi croaked, fur flat. "We have things to do! He cannot just summon me like a maid!"

"You're young," Vasa snorted. "I might not have given you the full job description when I—I remind you—recommended you for this kriffing post. But you do not ignore a summons from our friend on Leritor. It is just not done!"

Ursi sighed despondently, fur relaxing somewhat. "All right, Grendusk," she growled, turning to her most trusted operative.

"Yes ma'am?" Grendusk asked, turning away from a conversation he was having at another table.

"I am putting you in charge of things for the next five, maybe ten days."

"Ten days?!" Grendusk gasped.

"I have been summoned to Leritor," Ursi sighed. "Vasa, meet me on platform 1 tomorrow morning. I am taking the day off early."

"Tomorrow morning?!" Vasa snarled incredulously, fur bristling. "Director, we have been—"

"—I want to set my affairs in order," Ursi snarled back. "And I need to prepare a statement." As she turned away, walking towards the door, Vasa began sputtering in shock.

"You—A statement?!"

"Yes," Ursi said, holding her snout high as she walked through the doorway. "I suggest you do the same. Then we can corroborate our statements on our way to Leritor, make sure our stories align."

"A statement?!" Vasa hissed again, seething with shock and surprise.

The blast doors to the Strategic Information Room slid shut behind Ursi as she walked away, intending to return home and spend the rest of the day with her wife.