They were stuck in the room for about three more days of silence, Atton complaining, and several hundred more games of pazaak (of which Atton won all but about ten, and Trista was certain he'd thrown those out of pity).
Around the middle of their sixth day of house arrest, the door opened and caught Trista and Atton in the middle of yet another game of pazaak. Both stood as one of their various door guards stepped through.
"If you'll all follow me, I'm to take you back to TSF Headquarters."
"Why?" Trista asked.
"We've finished our investigation, and Lieutenant Grenn wants to speak with you about it." She motioned them after her, and Trista started to follow.
"Great," Atton grumbled behind her. "Bet we're going back in the force cages."
As the trio followed the TSF guard, it was clear they were no longer "priority" residents. Most of the four TSF agents stationed at their door were gone now, leaving only the guard walking them back to the Headquarters.
"I feel like we'd be under heavier guard, were that the case," Trista whispered back as they climbed into the shuttle.
"Maybe. I don't know."
When they reached the office, the agent walked them past the droid at the front desk and to a private office off the room behind it. The open door revealed Grenn at a desk, working on something on his terminal.
"Lieutenant."
He looked up and waved them in. "Thank you, Sergeant. You're dismissed. The rest of you, have a seat."
Trista did so. Atton stood behind the other chair and, as the door closed, Kreia took up residence next to it. Grenn finished what he was doing and folded his hands on the desk ahead of him.
"Well, congratulations," he started, "the Telosian government has completed its inspection of Peragus' remains. It appears the Harbinger was present, though we found no wreckage, and it was responsible for the facility's destruction. The logs we recovered from your ship and the remains of the facility indicate that the miners perished due to sabotage, while you and your companions were incapacitated or incarcerated."
"Told you," Atton said.
Grenn stared at him, then looked back at Trista. "You are no longer under house arrest. However, the Republic is sending its own ship to investigate, and they have insisted you remain on the station for the duration of their search."
Trista glanced at Atton, who rolled his eyes and straightened up behind the chair. "Why are they sending a ship? And how long will that take?"
"Well," Grenn said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "they must further investigate the station's destruction and, as I understand it, search for their missing ship. The Sojourn is already en route." Trista clenched her hand in her tunic. The Sojourn. Why did the Sojourn keep popping up? "It will not take more than a couple standard days. The apartment will remain available for you during your stay."
"And what about our ship?" Atton asked. "And all the shit you impounded?"
"And my T3 unit?"
Grenn nodded, glanced back at his computer, then back at them. "Unfortunately, I have some bad news."
"It's not out of impound yet?" Trista asked. It'd make sense, if there was an admiral interested in it — they'd be ordered to keep it until they arrived to inspect it. From the corner of her eye, Atton's hands tensed on the chair back.
"No, no, it's out of impound — illegally. We finished the freighter's I&D and were storing it in Dock 126A, and it has... since gone missing."
"What?!" Atton straightened back up. "You've got to be kidding."
"We believe someone has stolen the ship and are investigating. It appears to have been transferred to Telos' surface. The requester and point of delivery are unknown, and it is not appearing at government-sanctioned landing sites. Our investigation so far indicates that our records were illegally accessed and modified."
Trista sat, a sinking feeling in her chest. She wasn't waiting for the Sojourn, and the Hawk had been their ticket off-world before that happened. Atton slapped the top of the chair.
"Son of a bitch, that T3 unit stole our ship! It's probably joyriding through the system, laughing at us — laughing at me."
"Do not be foolish," Kreia interrupted. "While I do not doubt it is 'laughing at you,' I suspect it was not involved."
"She's correct. While the droid is also unaccounted for, many satellites track all incoming and outgoing vehicles. The Ebon Hawk hasn't left the system."
"See?" Trista motioned. Atton shook his head.
"It doesn't make sense. Telos' atmosphere is corrosive outside the Restoration Zones — where else could someone land safely?"
"How do you know all this?" Trista asked.
Atton shrugged. "I know... things. About stuff."
She pursed her lips and turned back to Grenn.
"Unfortunately, that is all I have for you," he said. "Your quarters will remain available to you until we resolve the situation."
Kreia scoffed quietly. "With the way the TSF investigates, we may wish to purchase another ship." Trista dug her teeth into her lower lip to bite back a laugh.
"Never thought I'd agree with you," Atton grumbled.
"Our gear is still here, though?"
"It's in the TSF impound armory, right across from the droid's desk." He motioned out to the entry.
"And just so we're clear, how could someone have stolen my ship?"
"Not easily. I... understand you have questions about our capabilities, and I will not act as if it's easy to police this station. We are under-funded and under-manned. However, because of the Republic's interest, we had our security tight around the dock. We're unsure how this happened, but we will find out. Suffice to say, however, this would need major backing."
Atton leaned down. "Tris, I hate to suggest it, but that sounds Exchange."
Trista nodded. The thought had occurred to her — with a bounty as high as Atton said, if the Exchange had a presence on Telos, they might try to limit her escape routes.
"Now, I cannot suggest interfering in a TSF investigation, but..." Grenn leaned back in his chair. "We've been staking out what we think is an Exchange front for a few months. And it would be highly irresponsible of me to mention it is located opposite Czerka headquarters in Residential Module 082."
Trista and Atton traded a glance again. "Is there anything else you can't tell us?" Trista asked.
"Unfortunately, I can't mention that it is led by a Quarran called Loppak Slusk. Or that its top lieutenants are a human male named Benok and a Zeltron named Luxa. And I certainly can't point out that we sometimes find the latter two in the cantina just over there, here in 081." He pointed behind them. "But I can mention that it will be difficult to get inside Bumoni itself, and I can recommend that you don't storm in there like a herd of rabid nerfs."
"Don't worry, Lieutenant, I'm more like a herd of regular nerfs." Trista sighed. "Anything else you need?"
"What?" Atton hissed.
Trista shrugged. "If we're stuck here, we may as well be productive. Possibly make some money."
"Fortunately, I can talk about that." Grenn leaned on the desk. "Got a couple investigations you might be interested in, and a couple dangerous criminals. More information-gathering than anything."
"What have you got?"
"We've been looking for a man named Batono. This isn't a bounty, but it has a reward. Consider it a, ah, welfare check."
"Who is he?"
"He was the overseer of dock operations for Czerka and assisting us with the elusive black market smuggling operation operating out of this station." He glanced at Atton, who held up his hands.
"Don't work in this sector."
"A few weeks ago, Batono disappeared, and he hasn't been heard from since."
"Is he endangered?"
"If Czerka's involved in the ring, he's definitely not safe," Atton said.
"Your friend's correct."
"Then isn't this a TSF matter?"
"Well, ah." Grenn scratched the back of his neck. "That's the problem. Our investigation wasn't government-sanctioned."
"So you need me to clean up your mess?"
He huffed. "Fine, yes, if it helps, I need you to clean up my mess. If the Council hadn't kept us out of this business with Czerka in the first place, there wouldn't be any problems. But that's not important. The important thing is that Batono's missing."
"Feeling guilty?"
"Maybe a little, but that's not the point. Batono knew what he was getting into. If he's alive, we can offer him protection; otherwise, I want to know what happened. That's the point."
"Any other leads?"
"Not much. He was investigating 126C. I spoke with some Czerka guards around the bay, but they didn't seem too willing to cooperate with a TSF officer. You might have more luck."
"All right, what about Batu Rem?"
"The assassin that tried to kill you, right? The real Batu Rem is one of us, and he's off the station on leave."
"Have you heard from him?"
Grenn shook his head. "I hope he's okay, but I'm expecting the worst. Shame, he was a good kid."
"So what do we know about the fake one?"
"We found out he arrived via a tramp freighter in 126C. Unfortunately the cargo and manifest, and departure location, was not disclosed to us."
"126C? Isn't that Czerka's?"
He nodded. "Now you see why Batono's investigation was so important."
"Sounds like it. And these criminals?"
"They were spotted in the docks by security cameras, and we moved in to apprehend them. We captured them after you went into house arrest. Some electrical malfunction — probably caused by the fake Batu Rem's attack — enabled them to escape. They overpowered their guards and fled into Citadel, and they've stayed below our radar.
"There's two of them — a Rodian and a Devaronian, well-armed and extremely dangerous. They haven't left the station. If you look into it, be careful. We've already lost two good officers to them."
"We'll keep our eyes open, at least." Trista stood. "Oh, one last thing."
"What is it?"
"Not to step into an active investigation, do you mind if we check the bay the Hawk was in? To see if we can find anything?"
Grenn frowned for a second, then sighed and typed something on his terminal. "I just sent an alert to the agent at the bay. It's in the same one as 126C, 126A. I'll have someone show you the security footage too." He paused and looked up. "This is only because I'm already seeing this stonewalling us. We have no authority off this station, so we cannot try to track the ship down on the surface. Even if we could, we don't have the resources. So if you see something that will make our job easier, let me know. And if it tells you where to go once you're able to leave the station? Fine by me."
"Thanks, Grenn. We'll let you know what we find."
"I'd appreciate it."
They headed out and made their way to the impound, and they began to retrieve their few belongings.
"Docking bay first?" Atton asked as he handed her one of the vibroswords.
"Definitely. If we can't find anything at the Hawk's dock, we'll find some way to get to the surface. Or buy passage on another ship."
"To where?"
"Anywhere, I'm not too picky. But I bet either the Ithorians or Czerka could get us to the surface."
Atton jammed his blasters onto his belt. "Yeah, it's safest to find our own ship. Anyone recognizes you and we might end up on a one-way trip to the Shad. On their terms, not ours."
"Something like that." Trista swung her jacket on. "And if we find a store on the way, I want to buy a shirt that doesn't scream TSF. What do you think, Kreia?"
"I do not care what shirt you wear. But either path should lead us to the same destination — one, perhaps, more swiftly than the other."
"I'll take that as a vote of confidence. Let's go."
They left the TSF office and waited for the nearby shuttle, Trista impatiently tapping her fingers against her leg. The ride to Dock Module 126 was quick, and before long they were crossing the waiting room and turning left for 126A at the far end. One TSF agent stood outside the door, studying a datapad as they approached.
"Sorry, shuttle bay is closed pending an ongoing TSF investigation," she said without looking.
"Yes, hello," Trista said, and the agent looked up. "It was my ship that's missing, and Grenn sent us permission to investigate?"
"Oh, of course, Master J—"
"Nope." Trista held up her hand. "Don't."
"Right, sorry. He mentioned you hated being called that." She typed in a code on the keypad behind her, and the door slid open. "There you are. The inner door opens at a different console just inside. The security footage is up in the control room, someone can show it to you there."
"Thanks. We won't be long."
Once inside, with only the hangar's forcefield blocking them from the vastness of space, they stood in an empty hangar. No debris save the usual hangar flotsam and investigatory taping. Trista sighed and looked back at the others.
"Uh, I guess I'll go check the security footage. Atton?"
"I'll see if the thief left anything." He looked around. "I doubt it, though. If this was Exchange, and they had anyone worth shit doing it, they won't leave anything."
"Yeah, I'm not expecting much. Kreia?"
"I will stay here, on the hangar floor." She walked toward where the Hawk had been berthed, and Trista nodded.
"Try not to kill each other, I'll be back in a few minutes."
Trista left the duo — much against her better judgment — on the floor and climbed the ramp to the control room. The TSF agent at the console held out her hand.
"Agent Daxo, ma'am, but my friends call me Dax. Grenn said you'd be stopping by."
"Thanks, Agent Daxo," Trista said as she shook the proffered hand. "Would you show me this footage Grenn mentioned?"
"I've got it queued up. I've watched it thirty times, but I'm at a loss." Daxo walked her to a screen where a still of the Hawk in the hangar was frozen. "Let me know when you're ready."
Trista leaned on the console. "Go ahead."
The image rolled, the only movement a cascade of sparks from what she assumed was T3, hanging upside down off the ship's shell.
"The T3 unit was doing repairs most of the time," she explained. "This is about a day and a half after we took you into custody."
"When does this start?"
"About five minutes before."
"And you didn't see anything?"
"No, ma'am. Okay, the unknown is coming in now."
Trista leaned a little heavier on the console as a figure stepped into view. She was clad in a white, hooded jumpsuit that blocked her features, especially with her back to the camera. "You don't have any other angles?"
"No, the Czerka modules we got only have one."
Trista tapped the terminal as the woman on screen studied the ship. "I'm growing to dislike Czerka on a fundamental level."
Daxo snorted. "Join the club, ma'am."
On screen, T3's optic swung over and settled on the woman. A moment passed before he detached from the shell and thunked into the ground, then zipped to the top of the ramp.
The woman knelt to T3's level.
"No sound either, I take it?"
"None, unfortunately."
"Of course not."
The two seemed to confer for a second, before the woman reached to her belt and drew a short blaster, then jammed it into the Astromech's chassis. Trista winced. T3 rolled back, the charge routing through him, and slumped. Tucking the blaster away, the woman stood and rolled the hapless droid up the ramp, and it closed. A minute later the ship backed out of the hangar.
"Can you get any details from the cockpit?"
"No, it looks like someone installed a viewport coating that blocks cameras."
"That's not standard?"
"Not at all."
"Great." Trista straightened. "Can I get a copy?"
"Do you have a 'pad on you?" She fished hers from her bag and handed it over. Daxo plugged it in, waited until the console chimed, then handed it back over. "Here you go. Remember, that's TSF property, and Grenn is just doing you a favor."
"A favor I appreciate. Thank you."
Trista rejoined the others in the hangar. Atton had finished pacing around the perimeter and turned as she approached. "Yeah, I went over the whole place. I don't see anything."
"Here's the vid." She handed him the datapad and took several steps forward to Kreia. The woman stood in the center of the hangar, still, facing the space beyond the forcefield. "Get anything?"
Kreia nodded. "A strange presence. Strange. Something I had not thought to see again."
"Oh?" Trista raised an eyebrow. "What type?"
"I cannot be sure." Her head finally moved. "But I guarantee that the Ebon Hawk now lies on Telos' surface. It is not in our reach, not yet; but it will be if we move quickly."
"Where?"
"I suspect my connection will be stronger once we stand upon the surface itself. Of course, we must first reach it."
"Yeah. I think we'll talk to the Ithorians or Czerka."
"Be mindful of which you aid. Both have their own agendas, and you must remain vigilant."
"Let's hear them out before we jump to conclusions. Come on."
Trista headed for the door. Atton handed her datapad back in the airlock.
"Did you notice anything?"
There was a pause, enough of one that she glanced over. When he caught her eye, Atton shook his head. "Nothin' more than you saw."
She squinted. "You sure?"
"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I'm sure."
Trista stopped. "You don't sound sure."
Atton sighed, rolling both his eyes and his head not unlike a petulant child. "Fine, fine, she moved a certain way. I've seen it before. It's training you get in certain military groups, like special operations, or sometimes the Jedi. Stuff like that."
Trista started to ask how the hell he knew, when Kreia interrupted. "Echani, perhaps?"
"Yeah, that could be it. Hell if I know, I just fly ships."
"Echani would be special training for most groups," Trista mused as she started walking again.
"Indeed."
As they approached 126C, Atton drew to a stop and held out his hand. "Tris, give me a minute with these guys. If I need help, I'll call."
"Go ahead."
Atton started forward again, leaving them alone. Trista leaned against the wall, tucking her datapad into its pouch in her bag.
"Is it wise to leave such a delicate task to a fool?" Kreia inquired, and Trista sighed.
"He's not as stupid as you seem to think. In fact, I suspect he knows much more than he says."
"Perhaps his behavior is a screen for deeper knowledge — or perhaps, he is a fool and an imbecile, and you would do well to watch him. Such a man serves himself first... and his 'allies' next, if it is convenient."
Ahead of them, Atton slung his arm around the Twi'lek Czerka official's shoulders.
"I've seen nothing of the sort from him."
"Your idealism is almost inspiring. Alas, it will not save you from what is coming."
Atton wrapped up speaking to the Czerka official standing next to the hangar and started to jog back toward them. "I'll deal with it when it comes, then."
Kreia scoffed as Atton jogged to a stop in front of them. "All right," he said, "had to threaten the Czerka guy."
"How badly?"
He shrugged. "Not that badly. So. Assassin came through that dock. They don't keep records of who comes through for 'privacy reasons,' but the shuttle he came in on left from Nar Shaddaa. And they scheduled him to go back on another."
"Okay, so, he's related to the Exchange bounty?"
Atton nodded. "I mean, it's just confirmation."
"Yeah. And what about Batono?"
"Said he didn't know the guy, then slipped up and said he was an employee." Atton shrugged. "He finally said he was an employee, but nothing else, and that we should talk to Lorso."
"Great. Thanks, Atton. Since we don't have any easy way to find the Hawk, we should see if the Ithorians or Czerka can get us to the surface."
"I can't see any other way around it," Atton said. Trista nodded as they started toward the shuttle.
"Any opinions on who we join up with?"
Atton shrugged. "Whatever gets us off this station."
