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Chapter 4

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"You think anyone else will be here?" Wes asked Corran softly as they walked toward the ballroom.

"It's possible…doesn't mean we'll recognize them though," the Corellian replied in a low voice.

They stopped talking as a man stepped up to them. Wes handed him their tickets and watched out of the corner of his eyes as Corran placed a hand against the small of Karin's back. The dress she'd bought in a boutique off the hotel lobby was, well, it didn't leave much to the imagination. After seeing it, he and Corran had had a short conversation and Corran had been more than willing to really take on the big brother role they'd been cast in. The last thing they needed was for some random Ralltiirian to ply her with alcohol and escort her back to his room.

Wes could just imagine having that conversation with Wedge. Um, yeah, so…we kind of lost Karin. Last I saw, she was with some guy. Blonde hair…real looker. That would go a long way toward endearing him to his CO.

He surveyed the crowd of people already inside. The party had started nearly an hour ago but Karin had taken forever to get ready. It had taken three threats from him and Corran that they were going to leave without her just to get her out of the refresher – and she'd still spent the entire turbolift ride down complaining about not having had enough time to do her makeup.

This was why he didn't have serious relationships. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of being tied to one woman. He just didn't want to deal with all the obligatory nonsense that came from dating one woman. Over his dead body would he hold some woman's handbag in a store…no matter how she planned on making it up to him.

He caught sight of a pretty brunette in a gown that looked like it might have been the other half to Karin's and glanced at Corran while their squadmate's back was turned. "I'll…catch up with you later."

"Just…try to make it back to the room tonight, will you?" Corran asked. Lowering his voice, he reminded Wes, "We do have covers to maintain."

Wes shrugged. "Hey, if I don't come back that means no one has to sleep on the couch."

Corran glared at him and shook his head. "Just don't get into trouble, okay?"

Wes felt hurt…for a moment anyway. He wasn't an idiot…he just enjoyed female company. He was willing to bet Corran had his share of relationships before Mirax. Then he shook his head. He wasn't about to let the short Corellian get on his nerves. "You just worry about her," he replied, nodding his head at Karin.

She turned, almost falling in her heels, and glowered. "I can take care of myself just fine," she retorted, snatching a glass from a tray as a waiter passed by and downing the liquid in one gulp.

Wes arched an eyebrow and looked at Corran again. "Like I said."

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Wedge kept his arm firmly around Inyri's waist – well, as firmly as he could given all the extra padding his disguise required. Slowly, they threaded their way through the crowd – a feat complicated by Wedge's newfound bulk.

Inyri sighed. "Let me go ahead, darling," she said, and it was all Wedge could do not to laugh at the voice she used. "I'll see if I can't clear a path for you."

As she stepped away, he got a better look at her. Her dress matched his shirt, and he had to say the color looked better on her than on him. It was strapless and went to just above her knees, hugging every curve along the way. He wondered for a moment why she didn't go out more – she was quite an attractive woman. Then he thought about the way she handled Janson and decided she'd probably intimidate any man who tried to date her. That, or…her and Janson? He shook his head. Nah.

"Aerex? Aerex!" He blinked and met her eyes.

"I've been calling you for the last five minutes," she said.

"I'm sorry, dear," he said. "I was…distracted."

"By which blonde?" she asked snidely. "Or was it a brunette this time?" He wouldn't have guessed it but she seemed to be enjoying the role she'd been given.

He frowned at her but didn't reply as they made their way to the bar. Inyri ordered them a couple of drinks, holding her hand out to Wedge for money. "You need to tip, you know," she said, giving him a long-suffering sigh. He dug into his pocket and brought out a few coins. She took them and held her hand out for more. "Don't be so stingy!"

He rolled his eyes at her but obliged, then looked down the bar, nudging Inyri when he caught sight of a particular man. It was Alek Cesra – Landis had showed them some holo images of the Minister and his daughter. He had black curly hair cut short and dark eyes that seemed to take in everything that was going on in the room at once. He wore a light gray suit over a black shirt, but no tie, and looked far more at ease in such clothes than Wedge felt.

Wedge took the drink Inyri handed him and, seeing her nod slightly, moved away to approach the other man. "Minister Cesra?" he asked.

The man looked over at him, removing his hand from his daughter's arm, and favored him with a curious smile. "I am. What can I do for you?"

Wedge held out his hand. "Aerex Aaltak, from Commenor. I own a construction firm there, but I'm here looking to expand." He paused and took a drink of the wine Inyri had ordered and made a face. I understand that there are parts of Ralltiir that were never reconstructed after the Imperials, shall we say, administered their unique brand of justice."

Cesra sipped his drink. "Yes, that's true. Many of the more rural areas that were hardest hit in the epidemic a few years before the Imperial assault hadn't recovered, population-wise, by the time of the fighting. By the time hostilities came to a close, those regions were all but barren. The survivors – few in number as they were – left for the cities that, for some reason, had better withstood the struggle, and had no desire to return. Many of the others left the planet." He took another sip. "Areas that are relatively void of population are low on our list of priorities. Much of the aid we've received from the New Republic over the last decade has gone to improving conditions in the cities and townships that are more heavily populated…low income housing, public assistance and the like."

"But you're looking into rebuilding them now?" Wedge asked. He made a mental note to find Hobbie and talk to him about what Cesra was saying. He knew about Lord Tion's treatment of the world, and the information he was spouting now came from his cover briefing. Other than that, however, he knew little.

"Yes, we are. The cities have been overcrowded and there is growing interest in the rural regions. No one will move at this juncture, however, because everything is in such a state of disrepair."

"Are you accepting bids for contracts?" Wedge asked. "It sounds like it would be quite a lucrative investment." For once, NRI had done well with their cover identities – well, with his anyway. It was well suited to dealing with Cesra and it was something he knew about. He'd played a role in the rebuilding on Coruscant after Isard's run from the planet.

Cesra's smile disappeared instantly. "While we recognize that there are few people who will expend their resources for something that does not involve profit, we also have no desire to work with someone who seeks to become wealthy off of the misfortune of our people. We are not a rich world. We aren't as badly off as some in the galaxy, and our economy has improved over the last few years, but we are not wealthy. We have no interest in paying exorbitant amounts to an off-worlder when the money could be much better spent caring for our own people."

Wedge nodded slightly. "Of course. I merely meant that this might be a perfect opportunity for expansion…I've been looking for such a chance for some time."

The other man looked at him skeptically but returned the nod. "Well, if you're interested in employing our people in any new venture you establish here, we may have something to talk about. You're staying here at the hotel?"

"I am."

"I'll have my assistant contact you. You'll be here for the next few days?"

"I can be here as long as necessary," Wedge replied. "Within reason, of course."

"Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, I owe my daughter a dance." He shook Wedge's hand and turned away, holding his arm out to his daughter. "Shall we, Alisse?"

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Hobbie fidgeted with his tie. The suit he was wearing was better than the dress uniforms command forced on them – except for the silk noose around his neck. He watched as Lana mingled with people by the bar, keeping his hand close to the blaster that he was amazed she still had him wearing. Not only was the posture befitting of his cover identity, but it also made him feel slightly more secure.

He had to admit, as much as he disliked that woman, she could be very attractive when she wanted to be. Her dark blue dress clung to the curves of her upper body, flowing out around her knees. She was smiling and laughing, acting so much like the socialite she was supposed to be that he wondered if she'd had that kind of upbringing herself.

He shook his head and fiddled with the black jacket she wore. He was thinking about asking if he could hang onto this suit after the mission was over. Although, if Lana had her way he probably wouldn't have need of it by the end. Of course, he could probably request to be buried in it. He was pretty sure that if he got the chance to tell Wedge that, he'd make sure they did it.

Sipping his drink, he scanned the crowd. He knew he wasn't really Lana's bodyguard – the woman was more than capable of taking care of herself, he was sure – but he felt the need to keep an eye on her anyway. She had a slightly high-profile cover and would make a good target for a hapless robber, and if anything happened to her he was in serious trouble. He still had no clue what was going on. How do they expect us to find out anything if they don't tell us where to look? Or what we're supposed to be looking for, for that matter?

He saw a heavy-set gray-haired man and a good-looking redhead approach the bar. "I can guess what that relationship's about," he murmured to himself. After the man got his drink, he moved toward another man, this one with curly dark hair. As the new person turned around, Hobbie did a double take. It was Alek Cesra. Even if he hadn't seen his old friend's picture the other night, he'd have recognized his face – even with the scar that cut across the left side of his face. He wondered where that had come from; the biography he'd skimmed hadn't mentioned it, and the holo he'd looked at hadn't shown it.

He turned away slightly, unsure of whether Alek would recognize him as well. If the man was the one giving the New Republic trouble about that lab, then having Cesra find out he was here would be a problem. That, though, led to another troubling thought.

NRI had to know that he'd known Alek when they were younger. That wasn't the kind of thing they missed, especially considering there were holos in the old school annuals of them together – they'd played all the same sports. They'd even been interviewed several times. So why was he here when he clearly posed a danger to the mission? The makeup job Lana had done on him was good, but it wasn't that good.

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Tycho nudged Gavin and nodded his head toward a Gand and Twi'lek standing along the outskirts of the crowd. "Is that…?" Gavin asked, catching sight of them himself.

"I think so." Tycho frowned, touching the irritating false mustache he was wearing. Neither Ooryl nor Kalara were disguised to a great degree. Kalara's blue lekku were covered with the intricate tattoos that were unique to her race, but Ooryl looked just the same as he always did. Oh, his clothes were different, of course. Tycho would bet that Ooryl had never dressed like that in his life. But other than that…. He shrugged. He supposed that Gands and Twi'leks all probably looked relatively the same to most humans anyway.

"If they're here, everyone else probably is," Gavin observed.

"I would say so," Tycho agreed, nodding. "And that's a good thing, because I really don't have a clue what we're doing here."

"I was thinking the same thing," the younger man replied in a low voice. "I don't understand. Intel doesn't usually give us much information, but they don't usually send us in blind, either."

"I'm starting to get the feeling that we're here as decoys," Tycho said softly. "Look for anyone else in the squadron. Try to arrange a meeting with any of them you find. If you're not sure if they're who you think they are, ask them, I don't know…ask them if you met them on Borleias or something. Most people won't even recognize the name. Comm me if you find someone; I'm going to go talk to Ooryl and Kalara. I'll arrange something and let you know what we come up with."

Gavin nodded curtly as Tycho glanced in the direction of his other squad mates. By the time he turned back, Gavin had already slipped into the crowd.

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Myn downed the last of his glass of whiskey and looked around. This was the type of social event he usually tried to avoid. At least they were serving decent drinks. He set down his glass and signaled the bartender for another. Then he turned around and leaned his back against the bar.

He cast a sideways glance at Alar, surprised by how little he resembled himself. His normally white fur was dyed black, with mottled streaks of gray and white running through it. The fur around his eyes was white, and the white went around his head and down his face like sideburns. The Bothan had complained the entire time that he would never be back to his normal color.

His own disguise had not been nearly so complex. He was posing as a representative for a shipping company based off of Corellia

"Not many non-humans here," Myn observed.

"It is a human world," Alar commented in reply.

"I know. It's just…that means that if we really tried to find our own people…" he cut himself off when Alar nudged him as the bartender approached with his drink. Once he'd given him his tip and the man had moved on to another person, Myn opened his mouth to continue but Alar beat him to it.

"It should make it easier to find Ooryl and Kalara, at the very least. And if we can find them…."

"Chances are that the others can, too," Myn finished. "So what do you say we go and try to figure out what's going on, huh?"

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Hobbie had been shadowing Lana for most of the night, dancing with her on occasion, though she didn't ask that of him often. But she kept going over to talk to Alek, which, fitting though it was for her cover, was just asking for Hobbie to get caught. He was starting to wonder if she was doing it intentionally.

So he'd spent much of his time chatting with people native to the planet, and he'd picked up quite a bit of information about Alek in the process. Apparently, Alek's wife had died when their daughter was still an infant. The woman he'd married, Lynda Cavelhot, was the woman he'd been seeing back when Hobbie had left for the Academy. Lynda had gotten pregnant before they'd even made plans to marry, and they wed a few months before his daughter Alisse was born. She'd died in the fighting that had taken hold of the planet following Tion's executions of the world's leaders.

From the sound of it, Alek was well liked by those who knew him – into which category fell nearly all the Ralltiirians at this party – although it seemed he had been on the wrong side of some kind of alliance between his colleagues, President Desaten and Ana Janik in particular. It could be nothing at all of importance – he knew from experience with the New Republic that high ranking politicians fell out of favor with each other all the time. But given the reason that they were here, and the fact that the New Republic had been having trouble with someone other than Desaten, it was—

He cut himself off mid-thought, spinning around.

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Corran scanned the crowd for Wes. He hadn't seen the Rogues' resident playboy in a while and he was starting to get frustrated. "If he's taken off," he muttered to Karin.

She giggled. "I'm sure he's fine."

He sighed. He should have cut her off a while ago, but he'd hoped she could hold her liquor, at least to a small degree. He'd been very, very wrong. "He's probably much better than fine," he replied, scowling.

Karin stepped toward him, nearly falling over. Clearly, she was not used to wearing heels while intoxicated. He caught her and she let him support nearly all of her weight. "We could be better than fine, too," she murmured in his ear.

Corran swallowed and tried to help her stand up. "You're far from fine, Bevin," he said, barely remembering her cover name as he tried to catch her hands before they strayed anywhere unbefitting a brother and sister…or, for that matter, a single woman and a married man.

"I could be," she mumbled. "If you were more fun."

"Uh huh, sure." Corran shook his head, mildly glad that Wes wasn't here. He'd find this far too amusing for Corran's own good. He needed to get her back to the room before she blew all their covers. "Let's get you out of—"

He broke off as something caught his attention from across the room. "What—?"

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Wes was standing near one of the hors d'oeuvre stations watching a pretty girl with long black hair in a short black dress. He'd decided he rather liked Ralltiiri women, and thought it was a sad thing that Hobbie was a man. He'd found any number of attractive young ladies here tonight. But this last was more significant.

First off, she was too young for him – he did have some standards and fourteen was just inappropriate. But also, he'd learned from listening in on any number of conversations that she was someone of some importance. She was the daughter of someone relatively high up in the Secretariat, and he thought if he kept an eye on her he might pick up some kind of information of value…he might even get an idea of what they were actually supposed to be doing here, since Intel hadn't seen fit to tell them anything significant.

Alisse – he'd learned her name after a carefully steered conversation – had spent much of the night glued to the side of a somewhat older man who someone had identified as her father. He hadn't noticed any guards around her, but he had gotten the impression that her father – Cesra, he thought someone had said – was armed himself. So either Daddy thought he could protect her well enough himself, or he wasn't worried about anything happening to her.

He wasn't sure which was more likely. Ralltiir wasn't exactly known for being a crime-ridden world. Then again, it was hardly known for being peaceful, either. And from what Wes had heard, Cesra was liked by everyone but the people he worked with. He'd bet a hundred credits that Cesra was the problem child of the Secretariat, the one who'd been making things difficult for NRI.

He glanced around, looking for anyone who might be paying attention to the girl or her father. There were a few glances here and there, but no one seemed to take much notice of their presence. If this had been a high-society party, that wouldn't have struck him as odd in the least. But the fact that the hotel had given him, Corran, and Karin free tickets just for screwing up their reservations made him question it. If anyone and their brother could get in….

He turned to scan the other end of the room but something made him turn back. His eyes flicked around, searching for whatever had caught his attention. He lit on two men standing by the corner of a table. He blinked as a sudden flash of light blinded him. Not waiting until he could see again, he ran for Alisse, catching her around her waist and pulling her down with him.