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Chapter 5

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Wes rolled with Alisse, struggling not to rest too much of his weight on her, as the room erupted into screams. He finally stopped against the bar, sheltering her body from the shards of glass raining down over them. He heard twice more the whine of a blaster, even over the panicked shouting, and felt the floor shake as people ran from the room.

A few moments after that, everything was silent. "Stay down," he whispered, feeling the girl tremble. "You're all right." He hoped, at least. He hoped he'd gotten her out of the way in time, and that he hadn't given her more than a bruise or two when he'd pulled her down.

He rolled to the other side and rose onto one knee. It was amazing how quickly a couple of blaster shots could empty a room. There were only about thirty people left and, as he focused on their faces, he realized most of them were members of his squadron. That figured. Of course they would hang around. Then he saw a hand appear in front of his face and took it, helping himself up. It was Cesra, the Minister he'd been watching. "Your daughter," he began, turning to look at the girl. "Is she all right?"

He knelt down once more, reaching out to her. "It's okay." He pulled her back from the bar. "Your dad's here." That got her attention.

She let him coax her up and then ran to her father. "Daddy," she whimpered, throwing her arms around his waist as Wes stood by awkwardly.

He felt a hand on his arm. Turning, he saw Corran. Karin was leaning against the bar behind him, looking very drunk. "What happened?" the other man asked him. "All I saw was movement, and then I heard shots fired."

"Saw light reflecting off a blaster." Wes nodded toward the now-overturned table. "Two men, about the same height, one with dark brown hair, one light brown. Couldn't see much more than that."

"You said you saw two men?" Cesra's voice interrupted their brief conversation.

"I…yes…I saw a flash of light."

"And you just knew that someone was going to shoot at my daughter?" he asked, eyes narrow.

Wes racked his brain, trying to remember his cover. "I…I was in the police force on Chandrila," he replied. At least Intel had given him a cover identity that fit him somehow. "It was instinct…the light, I knew it was off a blaster; I don't know how, but I did. And you and your daughter were the reasonable targets, and she was in a direct line of sight from them…" he trailed off, looking helplessly at Corran.

Cesra apparently noticed. "Who are you two?" he asked, glancing down as someone disengaged his daughter's arms from around his waist.

As the girl was led from the room, Wes struggled to remember his cover name. Corran seemed to sense his trouble and spoke up. "My name is Dorak Kesag. This is my brother Alon. We're here with our sister, hoping to move to Ralltiir – our mother was born here."

"I see." The Ralltiiri man frowned. "I am Alek Cesra, though I suspect you are already aware of that fact."

"We are," Wes admitted, running a hand through his hair and along the back of his neck. Feeling moisture, he pulled his hand away and glanced at his fingertips. They were dotted with blood. How had he not noticed that?

"You should get that taken care of," Cesra murmured.

Wes glanced at Corran, and then back at the Minister. "It's nothing," he mumbled.

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Tycho held Gavin back. "He's getting up. He's all right. And remember, we're not supposed to know each other."

"Yeah, but…"

"Wait," Tycho hissed. "Just…Wes may have already blown his cover as it is. We'd better try to preserve ours." They'd made the rounds and managed to talk to everyone, arranging a meeting – sans costumes – for late the next evening. From the looks of things, they'd have a lot to talk about.

"What if he did?" Gavin asked.

"Well, he couldn't exactly let the kid get shot," Tycho replied shortly, then took a deep, calming breath. He was the one who'd brought it up as it was. "If anything goes wrong, well, we'll deal with it." He sighed.

"You see what happened?" Gavin asked.

Tycho glanced at the younger man and shook his head. "No, but I plan on finding out."

"How?"

Tycho glanced over toward Corran and Wes. "I'm not quite sure."

Gavin gave him a small grin. "Great."

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Alek frowned when he saw the blood on the man's hand and the surprised look on his face. Clearly, he hadn't noticed – and that in itself was quite telling. He'd have to watch this man closely. "You should get that taken care of."

Alon looked at his brother, a confused expression on his face, and then looked back. "It's nothing," he replied softly.

"I insist," Alek told him. "There's a doctor on call here at all times. He's just down the hall, and there'll be no charge. I'll take care of it. It's the least I can do."

"Go on," Dorak urged. "The doctor can at least make sure that there aren't any deep cuts."

Alek nodded, and turned to his aide. "Escort Mister Kesag to the doctor's office, and make certain that his needs are tended to." He glanced back at Alon. "I owe you a great debt, sir."

The man shifted from foot to foot. "It was nothing."

Indeed. It seemed that this Mister Kesag truly meant it when he said that. He watched as they started to leave and then called his aide back.

"Yes, sir?" Daraf asked.

"Get a sample of his blood," he said, keeping his voice low so that only his aide could hear the words. "Try for fingerprints as well. Something tells me he's far from who he claims to be."

Daraf nodded. "Yes, sir."

Alek watched them leave and then saw Dorak step back. He saw the other man's eyes flick around the room, never settling anywhere for more than a moment.

No, these men were not who they claimed to be.

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Myn slipped out the door a few moments before Corran walked out of the ballroom. He'd seen Cesra leave a few minutes before via another door and the rest of the Rogues had been filtering out over the last few minutes. He felt much better about this whole thing now that he knew the others' identities – and knew that Wedge and Inyri at least had an Intel contact.

He caught Corran's elbow, watching as the Jedi spun around to face him, Karin cradled in his arms. "Oh," the man breathed.

"Come here," he hissed, sidestepping around a corner and dragging the other Corellian with him. "What in the galaxy happened in there?" he asked.

"I wish I knew," Corran muttered. "But Cesra doesn't seem to think anything of it."

"What, of you and Janson or of his daughter getting shot at?"

"Either," he replied. He ran a hand through his dyed hair. "And I'm not sure which worries me more."

"This isn't our job here," Myn muttered, glancing up and down the hall.

"Yeah, well, I think it just became part of it." Corran sighed. "Don't do anything until we talk to Wedge tomorrow night."

Myn glanced at his chrono. "I plan on sleeping until about twenty minutes before that meeting," he replied.

"Good. Probably safer that way," Corran said. Then he turned, struggling slightly as Karin shifted in his arms, and was around the corner in seconds. Myn waited a moment or two and then headed in the opposite direction.

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Wedge dropped onto the couch as Inyri perched on the arm. "What just happened?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure." He took off his shoes and massaged his feet. "Give me boots any day," he muttered.

She shot him a look. "You should try heels."

He glanced at her apologetically. "Yeah…no thanks." He took off his tie, tossed it on top of his jacket, and leaned back. "I got to talk to Cesra a bit before the shooting," he said.

"I was standing right there," she replied and he tossed a throw pillow at her. "You learn anything?"

"He got pretty offended when I suggested that getting involved in the rebuilding they're planning might be profitable. Then he told me that he'd have his aide contact me if I was really interested in contracting with them." He wasn't sure if it would be very useful, but it was a start. And Tierney had said that part of their job was to find out what was going on – not just to try to get into the lab.

"That's something," Inyri said, moving to sit beside him and leaning forward. "Maybe you'll pick up something from him."

"I'm hoping." He glanced around. "Landis?"

She shook her head. "I don't know where he is. Not that it matters, though. Tierney's probably recording every word we say, anyway."

"Yeah." He sighed. "Oh, well. Nothing we can do about it."

Inyri uncrossed her legs and stretched them out. "What do you say we get some sleep and figure this out in the morning?"

He nodded and yawned, giving her hand a squeeze as she stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Today," she corrected him. "Later on today."

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Hobbie jerked his head up, looking from Lana to the black mark on the wall where her shoe had hit it. "Sithspit! What was that for?"

Her eyes flashed. "Of all the stupid things for that…that idiot to do! He should never have gotten so close to Cesra!"

Hobbie stared at her. This was it. He'd had enough. "Are you for real?" he exclaimed. "What would you have had him do? Let the girl get killed?"

"They wouldn't have killed her!" Lana protested. Then her eyes went wide and she turned, running into her room.

Hobbie was too stunned to say a word, though he wasn't certain what surprised him more: that she had slipped up so badly, or what her slip-up implied.