Chapter Three

The Imperial Agent

"There's no mission like a suicide mission."

Sirenya was aware that Vector was displeased with her insomnia, but it was largely out of her control. She was, after all, a legal fugitive to both the Empire and the Republic, so she could hardly seek out a decent therapist anywhere in the Galaxy. Besides, committing Cipher Nine to therapy would rank alongside the Castellan programming of an agent about to go into deep cover in terms of wisdom.

That hadn't stopped them, though, had it?

The Chiss shook off the unwanted thoughts as she scanned the bright tapestry of stars before her. The cockpit of the ISV Spectral Huntress was dark in the inactivity of the night; even the holographic galaxy map was inactive. All light came from beyond the compressed window, filtered in from the uncountable diamonds in the sky.

Sirenya sank into the pilot's seat and put her head in her hands. It was always so hard, in these dark hours of the night, to drive away the nightly horrors and memories.

The former Cipher bore no illusions: she was, by any real standard, a psychologically damaged individual. Perhaps she would be healthier to expend her hatred outward and rage at the men who had used her and left her broken by the wayside, but health was not her goal.

No, she thought. I'm part of Fury Team. Ardun Kothe was, in the end, a good man, which meant that Pyrus might one day be able to use him. And the Dark Council...

She snorted. Going against them would be going against Imperius, by now. Half of them are in his pocket without even knowing it.

And yet...

And yet she still couldn't go home. Still couldn't return either to her birthplace on Csilla or to Nar Shaddaa where she'd been trained. She clenched her eyes shut against the tears that always threatened to flow in solitude. She would not weep. Fury Team needed her, and she was glad to do her duty.

But it was so hard...

Unbidden, the face of Ardun Kothe swam in her mind. It's not as if you can be trusted to help them, it reminded her.

Her fists clenched, but the rest of her body went limp.

Damaged? Even now, she was lying to herself. She was broken.

"Agent?" Vector's precise tones made her look up, thankful once again for Chiss red eyes which made it difficult to tell when she'd been holding back tears.

She arranged her face into a smile which, she knew from years of work, looked absolutely natural, and could fool anyone but Hyllus himself. "Vector," she said. "You should be in bed."

"So should you," he chastised. "But the ship's holocommunicator is receiving a call from an unknown source. Given that we are supposed to be invisible to any but our contacts, we thought you should know."

She stood with a nod. "Yes, thank you, Vector," she said quietly. "I have a feeling I know who it is." She hesitated, and then, in a moment of weakness, asked softly, "Stay with me?"

"Of course," agreed Vector, neither his face nor his voice betraying the worry she knew she was putting him through. Not many people could pull off impassive better than an Imperial Cipher, but Vector Hyllus was one of them.

She smiled at him again and made her way to the central holocomm terminal. With a tap to the terminal, she accepted the call.

There was Ardun Kothe, right on schedule.

"Legate," he said, a sort of resigned sorrow on his face, despite the obvious triumph of having found one of the most well-hidden fugitives in the galaxy. "I knew I'd find you."

"So did I," said Cipher Nine calmly, her face totally blank. "It's good to see you, Ardun." A lie, but easier to tell even than usual because it should be true.

It did make him look a little less sad, too, which she supposed was a good thing. "We need to talk. The Empire's started using the intel you gave them, and they're doing... strange things with it."

She nodded. "Using the intelligence to slip relief drops into refugee and disenfranchised encampments all over the Republic's outskirts," she elaborated for him. "You think I wouldn't know what my intel is being used for, Kothe?"

He stared at her. "Why?" he asked at length. "No, not why; how?"

She smiled slightly. "One day, Ardun, you'll meet Darth Pyrus," she told him. "You'll probably die, but if you're lucky, you'll understand first. In any case, you didn't call to tell me what my Empire is doing. What is it?"

"No, I came to ask why and how, but you won't answer, will you?"

"You know why," she told him flatly, the political smile dropping from her face. "As to how? They're Sith, not demons or Rakata." She laughed humorlessly. "Not that there's a difference to you, Jedi."

He frowned at her. "This is a new one. Cut the riddles, Legate, please—what do you mean?"

"It's right in front of you," she said dismissively. "You just don't want to see it, and I'm not here to correct your preconceptions. If there's nothing else, then I'll see you next time you decide to call."

"Wait," he said quickly. "There is something else. You mentioned Darth Pyrus. He..." the man hesitated.

Sirenya studied him, swallowing her revulsion in favor of trying to read him. It was difficult—he was both a trained SIS agent and a Jedi, both of which were very stoic occupations—but not impossible. Buried beneath the stony expression she could detect undertones of confusion, some worry, and... dislike, but not for her. How odd.

"Who is he?" Kothe asked finally, frankly. "I've got some of my superiors—including some so high up the chaim of command that they're not even in it—" Ah, the Cipher thought, someone's interfering in SIS business like Jadus did with us, and he's not happy about it, "-are knocking down my door demanding I find the identity of the Emperor's Wrath," he finished. "Master Am—" he swallowed the name she already knew. "An important Jedi wants to know more about him."

She cocked her head. "What is Master Amrell's interest in Lord Pyrus, beyond the obvious?"

Kothe growled slightly. "I assume it has something to do with something he did a couple of months ago, but I don't know."

Sirenya rolled her eyes. "The dodge won't work here, Ardun," she said. "The Emperor is dead. I certainly haven't lost sleep over it. You know something about why the Jedi is curious about Pyrus, and if you want anything out of me, you'll have to tell me that." She smiled at him, her poise unruffled. "You're the one with Jedi and Senators breathing down your neck, after all."

He cursed. "Dammit, Legate, you know how to drive a hard bargain," he said darkly. "Fine. Do you swear to tell me who Pyrus is if I tell you this?"

"No," she laughed, the simple expression hiding the whirring of her mind as a plan began to form. "Of course not. But I will give you the means to find out. And don't worry," she chucked again as he tensed and glared, "you'll be able to leave and report back afterward. I'll explain: I'll give you the coordinates and time for a meeting with Pyrus, with his word not to harm you. I'm sure the Republic is aware of his... unusually honorable reputation?"

"We are," said Kothe cautiously.

"Good," she said. The plan was taking shape. "You'll take one Interceptor-class ship—or something of similar armament—and so will he. You'll meet, talk, and part ways. There will be no harm done, and you'll both likely walk away with more information than you entered with."

"I'm not sure I want to give the Emperor's Wrath information," said Kothe flatly.

Cipher Nine rolled her red eyes. "Do you not trust your ability to win a game of questions, Ardun?"

Ardun stared at her dully. "Against you, force no. But maybe against a Sith Juggernaut."

Good, she thought, the fool is already underestimating Mysvaleer. They always do.

"So I'll tell you why Master Amrell's so curious," Kothe summarized, "and you'll give me those coordinates for a meeting?"

"Precisely. So?"

Kothe sighed. "Amrell's been working with Lord Scourge," he divulged.

Cipher Nine raised an eyebrow. "The AWOL former Empereor's Wrath?"

Kothe nodded. "Not so much AWOL as actively treasonous, but the old Sith is curious about his successor. There's more to it that I genuinely don't know. Something about a disappearing Earl on Dromund Kaas."

It's as I thought, Sirenya said to herself. They're on the trail Mysvaleer left after whatever happened that night his family was destroyed. He always said they might follow it. Force knows why.

"I see," she said impassively. "You don't know any more." It wasn't a question; rather it was a misdirection, intended to leave doubt in his mind as to how much she'd gained from the exchange. "Very well. I'll communicate with Lord Pyrus and send you the coordinates as soon as possible. Expect them within the next few hours—it's the middle of the Kaas night-cycle, so Lord Pyrus may be sleeping."

"Of course," said Kothe, then frowned. "So why are you still awake?"

A lesser woman would have tensed at the unintentional hypocrisy, but not for nothing was Sirenya the Galaxy's greatest spy. Her face didn't even twitch as she simultaneously said "I had work to do—dossiers to sort through, you understand," and thought, Because I've had insomnia, depression, and worse Bantha fodder giving me hell ever since you did what you did to me, you half-Dug bastard.

"Of course," said the former Jedi, grinning tiredly at her. "No rest for the wicked, eh?"

She smiled back, internalizing the roiling of her innards. "Indeed. I'll be in touch soon. I have your comm frequency."

"You do?" He looked surprised for a moment, then laughed. "Of course you do. Why wouldn't you? It's only one of the best encryption keys in the Galaxy."

She chuckled lightly alongside him. "But it's not the best, you see," she told him. She swallowed her feelings one last time and gave him a friendly smile. "May the Force be with you, Ardun."

He gave her a wry grin. "And you, Legate."

She cut the comm. The smile slid from her face as she allowed emotion to flow back into her body. She had no idea what her face looked like, or what her body was telegraphing—she'd stopped paying attention. Whatever it was, though, it concerned Vector.

"Are you all right, Agent?" he asked her quietly.

"Sirenya," she whispered, looking up into his dark eyes beseechingly. "Please, Vector. Not a title; not now."

He blinked, and then the Killik darkness left his eyes and he nodded. "Very well," said Vector, and Vector alone. "Sirenya. What is wrong?"

She looked away and put a hand over her eyes to hide the tears that, despite her best efforts, had formed tiny droplets on her lashes. "I never explained to you what happened on that deep-cover mission several months ago, did I?" she asked. It was a struggle. Telling anyone about this—especially Vector—was something she'd avoided doing for quite a while, though she suspected Imperius and Pyrus both knew, by virtue of their access to the Dark Council's intelligence and the data from the Star Cabal's archive.

Still, it was Vector. At some point she had to talk to him.

"You did not," Vector replied after a moment. "You said you needed time. I did not want to force you. I still don't."

"You aren't." Sirenya swiped her hand from her eyes, cleaning the wetness that had escaped away. She had it under control now. "I need to tell you. I want to tell you." She couldn't shake the feeling that she was trying to convince herself.

Vector nodded and said, "Then we—I—will listen to whatever you wish to tell me, as far as you wish to."

"Thank you, Vector," she said, and launched into the whole sordid story; from Kothe's conquest of her mind to the hallucinations of Watcher X and finally the reprogramming which had left her with a massively higher threshold for physical endurance at the cost of any possible second wind.

Vector listened intently to the whole tale. He was not an expressive man, but where another might give a cry in rage he frowned in consternation and where another might offer sympathies he looked into her eyes and did it wordlessly. In short, he reacted perfectly in all the right places, and she could feel his cathartic presence calming her down as he did so.

At length she finished, more poised even than she had started. Vector studied her evenly, but with a sort of sorrow in his eyes that was more empathy than sympathy. "This Ardun Kothe did all this to you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "In the end, he was forced into it almost as much as I was. He had the information and couldn't not use it. The only ones to blame are Hunter and the Dark Council."

"And yet you still excuse him and are willing to work with him," said Vector. An odd look adorned his face as he watched her. "Sometimes," he said, "That part of me which is Killik occasionally questions the human part's love for you," he told her, in a way that was more information than confession. "You never fail to explain."

She frowned at him. "Whatever do you mean, Vector?" she asked, confused.

"Sacrifice is central to the Killik, as it is with all collectives," Vector said quietly. "But individuals without a hive are almost invariably selfish. You? Sirenya, you are more selfless than any Killik I have seen."

She smiled slightly and embraced him. After a moment, however, she sighed and pulled away. "I need to call Mysvaleer," she said. "Leave a message, at least, if he's asleep."

Vector nodded, but said, "Surely it can wait until morning? You should sleep."

She kissed him lightly. "I won't be long," she told him. "You go to bed. This won't be as painful as talking to Kothe."

Vector looked at her for a moment, his black eyes digging into hers, before he acquiesced. "Very well. Good night, Agent."

"Good night, Vector." She watched him leave the room and then leaned over the console, punching in a series of codes she knew like her own Imperial ID number.

The hologram rang for a moment before it was answered by a small human woman in a hooded robe. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Cipher Nine," said Jaesa Willsaam cautiously. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Sirenya smiled thinly. "'We' as in Pyrus' team?" she asked caustically. "It certainly can't mean you, specifically."

Jaesa and Sirenya did not get along, for perfectly good reasons. Jaesa had a healthy habit of not trusting spies, and Sirenya had an equally healthy one of not trusting Jedi.

Well, equally healthy for an Imperial spy, anyway.

Jaesa's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, which was a sign that her Jedi self-control was particularly weak at the moment. Sirenya wondered why. "I think I'll refrain from answering that," the Padawan said flatly. "Master Pyrus is planetside right—" She stopped and turned away, looking at something Sirenya couldn't see, thought the Cipher could hear the sound of an electronic hatch opening.

"Pyrus? Are you there?" She asked the hologram on a hunch.

"I am," the familiar voice replied, and Darth Pyrus stepped into her view to join his Padawan. "Hello, Agent. Just got aboard."

She bowed low to one of the only Sith she'd ever really respect. "Lord Pyrus," she said, straightening with a smile. "It's good to see you well. I'd ask where you are, but..."

Mysvaleer chuckled. "I'll actually be able to tell you this time," he said. "I'm on Nar Shaddaa. There's a Hutt sitting on a nest egg the size of Coruscant's treasury, and the Empire wants some. Simple job, really."

Her brows rose. "There's not much in the galaxy more difficult than parting a Hutt from his credits," she said.

He laughed. "Not if you give them a good enough offer. But enough of that. What has you calling in the middle of the night—Kaas' night, anyway."

She nodded and her smile faded. "I've set up a meeting for you, but you have to specify the time and place."

Jaesa frowned slightly but said nothing, which was fortunate for all concerned.

Mysvaleer, raised an eyebrow. "What are the stipulations and with whom is the meeting?

"Ardun Kothe," Sirenya explained, all business now. "SIS, former Jedi, involved in the Star Cabal crisis."

"Ah," said Mysvaleer, face darkening. "That one."

Mysvaleer knew the whole story. She'd had to tell him, as Fury Team's leader, that she was unfit for duty. He'd proceeded to disabuse her of the notion as well as he could.

"Stipulations," the Cipher continued, carefully ignoring Willsaam's curious look at her Master, "Are that you swear not to harm him and to allow him to leave, that you send coordinates to him—I'll give you his communicator information—and that you and he both arrive in Interceptor-class ships or analogs."

"No stipulations as to number of representatives, I notice," Mysvaleer said quietly.

"I knew you'd think of that," she said with a bitter grin, "just as I knew he wouldn't. I said he'd be free to leave, so you can't have someone else kill him. Anyone he brings with him is fair game, as far as I've gone, as is anything on his ship not related to 'leaving' and 'alive.' I think I need to preserve him as a contact, though, so be gentle if you can."

Mysvaleer grunted. "I'll try, but I don't intend to play too nicely. He's already turned our relationship to Huttball."

She nodded. "Understood. We have a few hours before he'll expect an answer, so if you want to call me back with place and time in the morning..."

"Six days from now in a cave on Quesh, local time 18:00," Mysvaleer said promptly, his eyes dark. "Inside the cave. You know the place."

Quesh. The symbolism did not escape Sirenya, and nor did the gesture. As Quesh was a site of triumph for her, just so was it a site of defeat for Pyrus. The cave itself was the site of Pyrus' near death.

She gave him a genuine smile and nodded. "Quesh it is. I'll send the message to him."

"Send it in the morning," Mysvaleer told her, a small smile cracking through the grim expression on his features. "You've dealt with Kothe enough for one day. Get some sleep."

She bowed gratefully. "Yes, my Lord. Thank you."

He laughed lightly. "Don't mention it. Expect a note from Karrys soon, though. Yskalan may have an operation for us."

Sirenya nodded, her smile widening. "What will it be this time? Eons-old force-sensitives again?"

"It has gotten a bit dull, hasn't it?" snorted Mysvaleer. "Maybe we'll actually fight the Republic this time, like we're supposed to be doing, or some Sith, like we want to be."

"I'm not betting on it," she snorted. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Mysvaleer."

"'Night, Sirenya," he said as he cut the connection.

Sirenya was insomniac, but not all her dreams were bad ones, and a conversation with Mysvaleer before had a way of blocking the worst visions. It was just one of the many qualities he possessed that inspired her loyalty.

Sirenya's eyes snapped open at the chiming of the ship's holocommunicator. Vector had woken too, and was shifting beside her. She laid a hand on his arm and swung her legs over the side of their bed, sitting up. "It's all right, Vector," she told him. "I'll get it." She stood, stretched, strode over to the dresser, and quickly threw on her uniform.

"Are you sure?" Vector asked her, his robes half on. "You need your rest."

She laughed. "I'm not getting back to sleep for a few hours anyway. Might as well make a day's work out of it. What time is it?"

"About 7:00, Kaas time," said Vector.

"Then I got sleep enough for one night," Sirenya said, and left the room. It was a lie, but at least it was an old and easy one.

She traversed the ship and came to rest before the holocomm terminal. A quick patch and a familiar face appeared.

"Karrys," Sirenya greeted with a smile—one only slightly marred with insincerity. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Yskalan's got some intel, and he needs you acting on it." said Karrys shortly. The formidable Mandalorian was like that—Sirenya thought Karrys liked her, in her way, but she certainly never expressed it. The agent had never met anyone so stoic.

It made her glad they were on the same side. It was hard to find someone's weak spots—where they'd feel a strike—if they seemed to feel nothing.

"And what might this intelligence be?" Sirenya asked blandly, unconsciously clasping her hands behind her and taking a military stance.

"Forwarding the locations to you now," said Karrys, nodding at someone Sirenya couldn't see. "Yskalan thinks he's found someone with connections to Mysvaleer in the Republic."

Sirenya frowned. "He wants an assassination? That won't sit well with Lord Pyrus."

"No," said Karrys flatly. "Just reconnaissance, and you're the best for the job we've got."

"The Republic's top agents are aware of the existence of Cipher Nine, and know her appearance," Sirenya retorted evenly, without rancor. "I don't see how I could be our best spy if they're important enough for Yskalan's network to have picked them up before one of ours."

All four members of Fury Team had networks of informants throughout both Republic and Empire. It had served each of them well, but their workings were distinct. Sirenya specialized in the underworld—any rumor among pirates and black-market pushers soon found its war back to her. Pyrus' network was concentrated among the common people of the populous planets of both sides of the war. Karrys had Mandalorian and mercenary contacts, as well as ties to several organized gangs and cartels which operated above Sirenya's level.

Yskalan's network was the smallest and yielded the least intelligence, but with its composition of Senators, nobles, and other high-level officials on both sides, any information Yskalan gleaned was likely to be extremely useful.

Karrys shrugged unsympathetically. "I'm too far out of position, and this one needs to be kept contained," she said flatly. "Besides, the target is only peripherally connected to Republic intelligence."

Sirenya blinked once in a show of surprise. "If not SIS, then who on Kaas is following Pyrus' trail?"

"Didn't say they were following the trail, Sirenya," said Karrys, eyes narrowing. "I said they had a connection. Your target is one Captain Hethus."

The name meant nothing to Sirenya, though she felt she'd heard it before. "Never heard of him. Republic Space Navy?"

Karrys laughed. "Underworld king, more like," she snorted. "Used to be a small-time smuggler who was good with his ship. Now he's ruler of Dubrillion and the closest thing to a Cartel boss among all non-Hutts."

Sirenya blinked. Now she remembered the name. A lot of potential agents had been previously claimed by the fold of one Hethus. This must be the same man. "Human, is he?"

Karrys was silent for a moment. Then, "Can you keep something from Pyrus?" she asked frankly.

Sirenya blinked again. This was unexpected. Her eyes narrowed. "Yskalan wants to keep information from Pyrus? This is not how things work, Karrys."

It was true. Information had always been shared among Fury Team, ever since the fiasco on Tatooine had broken the barriers between them.

Karrys grimaced. "Fine. I'll tell you, then you can tell me if Yskalan's reasons are good. If you decide to go to Pyrus, I won't stop you. Sound better?"

Sirenya nodded briskly. "Speak."

Karrys rolled her eyes. "This Hethus is Mysvaleer's brother."

Sirenya's mouth might have actually dropped open. Karrys certainly grinned enough.

"It gets better," Karrys said, amused at the Cipher's reaction. "His wife—Risha Drayen, heir to an underworld dynasty—is an old partner of Vette's."

Sirenya stared at Karrys, then sighed. "This is related to that schism among the Meirons we don't know the details of?"

Karrys nodded. "For whatever reason, Hethus works for the Republic," she explained. "We know Pyrus would never condone working against him directly—in any way—without evidence that he's a threat. So we need to get that evidence before we talk to him. That's what Yskalan figures, anyway."

"Darth Imperius shouldn't get into the habit of working behind Pyrus' back," Sirenya grumbled, her professional posture well and truly destroyed by the revelations she'd been hit with. "It can only mean trouble."

"In the long run, yeah," agreed Karrys. "But the long run won't matter if something this Hethus did kills us all within a few months."

Sirenya was silent for a moment. "I need to send a message for Pyrus," she told the Mandalorian. "And I should check in with him afterward. But I think I can take the job. How does Yskalan want it handled?"

Karrys shrugged, grinning at her, clearly pleased with her acceptance. "Deploy to Dubrillion undercover," she said. "You figure out the rest. You're the Cipher."

"I am," agreed Sirenya quietly. "It will be done."

She shut off the holocommunicator and stood for a moment, still as a statue. "I am the Cipher," she murmured. "The Cipher without Watcher or Keeper."

She closed her eyes and let herself rest for a moment. The Huntress was silent; Vector had likely gone back to sleep, and no one else was awake.

"Does someone need to die?" SCORPIO, of course, was always silent.

Sirenya opened her eyes. The murderous droid was directly across the holocomm from her, its—her—luminous optics studying the Agent's every move. "You seem displeased with our current course," SCORPIO said blandly. "Given past events, this suggests that some organics are going to die. This is a good thing."

Sirenya snorted. "For you, maybe," she said without heat. She and SCORPIO disagreed often, but there was an understanding and camaraderie there. SCORPIO was someone Sirenya could trust to do what was necessary, even when Sirenya couldn't make herself act directly. More than once, SCORPIO had done so without even having to be ordered, which Sirenya, despite the apparent insubordination, was grateful for. SCORPIO had never overstepped a certain line: she expedited their objectives without ever causing more harm than good, even when the deeds involved were unspeakable to the point that Sirenya couldn't order her people to do them.

Certainly, some of them would willingly obey if she did. It wasn't for their sake that she refrained, but for her own.

"No, SCORPIO," Sirenya continued, "Our next mission is reconnaissance, not assassination or sabotage."

SCORPIO hummed her displeasure. "Not even a little sabotage?"

Sirenya smiled slightly. "We will be in the Republic underworld. I'm sure no one will miss some explosives, and it shouldn't be too hard to find people who would serve better dead than alive."

SCORPIO seemed almost to smile. "Good. That will be... satisfactory."

"Fun, SCORPIO," Sirenya corrected with a chuckle. "The word you're looking for is fun. But I need to send a message on to Lord Pyrus first."

SCORPIO nodded in a graceful gesture which would look odd on any other driod—on her sleek frame it seemed only natural. "Advise us when you are ready to depart and where the target is." She turned to depart.

"Wait," Sirenya called after her. SCORPIO paused. "Target location is Dubrillion. Can you start working on a trajectory that'll get us to a nearby starport without Republican connections? We'll need to swap ships—the Spectral Huntress is a bit..."

"Recognizable?" SCORPIO said archly. "I understand. I will begin analyzing the Dubrillion-local cluster at once."

"Thank you, SCORPIO," smiled Sirenya as the droid left. With that dealt with, the Cipher turned to the holocomm. She took a moment to breathe deeply and compose herself, and then punched in Ardun Kothe's comm code.

The man responded promptly. "Agent," he said with a slight smile. "Good to hear from you. Did you hear back from the Sith?"

Sirenya mirrored his slight smile and nodded. "I was able to get in touch with him this morning," she lied smoothly. "I am sorry you had to wait."

Kothe shrugged, but her trained eyes could see that he was pleased by her affected concern. "I took the chance to get some sleep," he told her. "It's quite all right. What did he say?"

"He has agreed to your meeting as stipulated," Sirenya said, her perfectly faked smile widening. "The time and location are 18:00 local time on Quesh in five days. There is a cave in the no-man's-land: I'll send you the coordinates."

Kothe started slightly. "Quesh?" It was the location of Sirenya's victory over him; the place where they had parted ways. His eyes seemed to darken at the name of the planet, and Sirenya's heart leapt guiltily at his pain.

Her face, on the other hand, she composed into a sympathetic frown. "I understand," she said, and that was true. "The location has some significance to Lord Pyrus, I believe." That was true too, but the caveat was unnecessary and helpful as a misdirection. "I can ask him to change it if you like...?" She was fairly certain Kothe wouldn't ask for it. If he did, she would wait fifteen minutes and then call him back, telling that Mysvaleer was unwilling to change. Ardun would certainly agree then.

"No, it's all right," Kothe said, chuckling sadly. "Thank you, but I'll be happy for any opportunity to meet with him. Thank you for your help."

Sirenya gave him her best smile. "It was my pleasure, Ardun. I hope the meeting is fruitful."

He grinned at her. "I'm sure it will be." And then he was gone.

Sirenya's smile fell off her face. She turned and sat on the raised communicator platform, cradling her head in her hands. It was always hard, talking to Kothe—especially in the morning, when she had to work through the whole rest of the day.

It was still better than having his voice be the last she heard at night, though, as it would have been if Mysvaleer had not ordered her to sleep.

She shook herself. She needed to talk to Mysvaleer, and then there was work to do. The day would not wait for her.

She stood, turned to the communicator, and called Lord Pyrus.