For the next two days Myn holed up in the tiny hotel room he'd rented but that wasn't because he liked the room so much. It was little more than a windowless box of four by three meters with a bed, a locker, a fresher, a wall-mounted entertainment center and all the overbearing luxury of a CSF holding cell. Food was provided by a vending machine of the galaxy's largest fast food chain installed near the emergency exit, which meant it was utterly tasteless but filled a hole.
He hadn't wanted to leave the hotel for two reasons. First and foremost he didn't want to miss Iella's call but secondly he was also wary of running into people he knew. It was bad enough, he reasoned, that Iella knew about his presence but running into his former squadmates would be worse for they would ask all kinds of awkward questions, most of which he didn't want to answer. He felt guilty for not being able to be honest to his friends, for treating them as if they were a danger, but he wouldn't risk Kirney's safety for anyone or anything.

In the evening of the second day he'd received an unsigned text message listing a set of coordinates, which turned out to be a plaza nearby, and a timestamp set to early forenoon of the next day. He checked out at the counter next morning and strolled towards the coordinates Iella had given him. She picked him up soon afterwards with an airtaxi and once again he couldn't completely suppress the chagrin he felt at being forced to resort to this kind of deception.

After a flight of fifteen minutes Iella guided the speeder out of an automated traffic corridor and suddenly Myn saw the tall spires of the Imperial Palace loom in the distance. As their taxi got closer a computerized voice requested their clearance which Iella transmitted quickly for the Palace was a no-fly zone and unauthorized traffic risked being shot down by hidden anti-air turrets. Five minutes later she put the airspeeder down in a landing bay in one of the Palace's smaller towers and opened her door.

"Follow me," she ordered curtly and Myn hurried out of the vehicle.

As she led him through a maze of darkened corridors he noted how tired and haggard she looked. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You look tired. I'm sorry if I …"

"It's okay," she interrupted and rubbed her red-rimmed eyes. "I … I've been thinking about what you told me, these doubts I mean. Sithspit, Myn, I don't want them," she ground out from between clenched teeth. "But they kept coming back no matter what I tried. I haven't slept for two days."

"Sorry," he muttered contritely. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

She waved his concerns away. "It's my fault. I asked."

He didn't answer and for the next minutes they moved through the seemingly endless corridors of the Palace in stoic silence. For a while Myn tried to memorize the twists and turns they made but after only a few minutes his sense of direction had been so thoroughly derailed that he didn't have the slightest idea in which part of the sprawling edifice they were and if he was moving north, east, south or west. After a seemingly endless trek Iella stopped in front of a nondescript door and put her hand on the sensor pad of the bio lock. The door slid aside and Iella ushered him in.

He found himself in a drab conference room whose sole occupant rose when they entered. For a second Myn studied the woman on the other side of the table for he had never met her in person before. Her light brown hair fell down to her shoulders without being confined by one of the myriads of elaborate hairstyles which most of the human females in the Senate seemed to favor. Her face was open, radiated idle curiosity and her blue eyes studied him as intently as he did study her. She was at least fifteen years older than him but like his mother she had preserved a modicum of youthful spirit that made her look younger. It was, he thought with guarded amusement, her white senatorial gown that did its best to turn her into a matron.

"Captain Myn Donos, formerly of Rogue Squadron," she said with a slight dip of her head. "I must admit I am intrigued by what Commander Wessiri told me."

"Councilor," he said and gave a light bow. "I must apologize for the circumstances of this meeting but I felt the secrecy was necessary."

Beruss chuckled lightly and gestured at him to sit down. "It's no big deal, Captain. I'm used to the paranoia of my Senate colleagues so this is actually a refreshing change of pace." She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. "Although I must admit I'm curious why you've chosen to return to Corellia of all planets."

Myn shrugged lightly as he sank into a chair. "It's home. Any other place pales in comparison."

"Yes," the Councilor said with a far-away gleam in her eyes. "That I agree with." She shook her head to banish the memories and returned her focus to him. "Commander Wessiri has told me some basic facts about the reason for your visit, but I'd like to hear it from you again." She darted a quick glance at Iella. "No offence, Commander."

Iella smiled tightly. "None taken."

"You know the basics." Myn stifled the urge to wring his hands. "About a week ago I delivered a shipment of horticultural products to Rostek Horn, an order which turned out to have been a pretense to covertly get in touch with me. He asked me to deliver a datacard to you which, according to Horn, contains a personal message of Daclif Gallamby to you, Ma'am." He reached into the breast pocket of his jumpsuit and produced the tiny data wafer. He held it up for her to see and slid it over the table. "I was told it's heavily encrypted and can only be accessed by you via iris scan and voiceprint matching, so I can't say what it really contains."

Beruss froze, her hand hovering in mid-air. "What it really contains? You think it's a trap?"

"No," he said hastily and hoped he didn't blush. "No, I don't think it's a trap. Horn didn't give me any reason to think so." But then reading other people has never been a strength of mine, he added quietly in his mind.

The Councilor narrowed her eyes and pocketed the datacard. "So what exactly did Horn say?"

"He did give me a run-down of some behind the scenes developments of Corellian politics," he answered dryly. "How Vorru was removed from power and shipped to Kessel, how Thomree became Diktat and managed to keep that position, why Gallamby was installed as his successor and so on. To make a long story short he tried to explain Gallamby's situation at the moment and why he is where he is." He shrugged. "It's the same old combination as always – politics clashing with economical interests. I'm sure that datacard will contain a much better and more detailed explanation."

Beruss put her hands together, fingertips against fingertips, and nodded to herself. When she focused her attention on Myn again her eyes held a calculating gleam. "So what is your take on it, Captain?"

"My take?" Myn pursed his lips mock thoughtfully. "Gallamby had to ally himself with some pretty fundamentalist Imp supporters to retain his position as Diktat after Palpatine's death. In return he kept Corellia out of galactic politics, especially where the New Republic is concerned, which allowed these Imps to live their lifes as if the Rebellion had never happened. But now that the Empire is busy destroying itself the jobs of millions of workers are in peril and Gallamby is afraid that the unhappy masses might start a rebellion of their own. So he's looking for new markets, markets which have been closed to Corellian companies up to now because of the ideological concessions to his Imperial benefactors, but he's trying to do in a deniable way since he's also afraid of being ousted by his benefactors if he deviates from the path they've put him on." He arched an eyebrow. "So condensed to a single sentence I think Gallamby has maneuvered himself into a spot between a rock and a hard place and is now grasping at straws trying to get himself out of there."

Beruss' face showed mild surprise. "I didn't think you'd be a cynic, Captain."

Myn met her stare head-on. "When it comes to politics the only thing I can muster is cynism, Councilor. No offense intended."

"None taken, Captain," she returned gracefully and darted another glance at Iella who was still standing guard near the door. "Commander, you're the one most familiar with Director Horn, aren't you?"

"Yes," Iella returned but protracted the word hesitantly. "But it's been a few years since I've seen him and even then we rarely met due to the great difference in rank."

Beruss leaned back in her chair and shot her a look of surprise. "But his grandson was your partner, wasn't he?"

"Yes, Councilor," Iella agreed, "but the job as Chief of CorSec didn't allow Director Horn to mingle with us ordinary officers. I had much closer ties to Director Horn's son Valin as he was my immediate superior."

"Be that as it may," the Councilor answered with a lazy wave of her hand, "I'd like to hear your assessment of Rostek Horn as a person."

"He's a conundrum," the younger woman began but the puzzled expression on her face revealed that she had no idea where this was going. "He can be just as jovial and warm-hearted as he can be invidious and ice-cold. He's a brilliant administrator and used to be CorSec's best investigator for many years before he was promoted to Director. As such he's proven to be politically shrewd and has kept CorSec out of the various controversies which have unsettled the public over the years." She took a breath and her eyes took on a far-away look as her mind's eye went back in time. "He seemed to be always in on everything that went on inside CorSec, regardless whether it was a professional rivalry between friends due for a promotion or the lover's grief of a first-year freshman. He never forgot a single lifeday in all the years I worked for CorSec, not even those of officers only temporarily attached to our unit. To us ordinary officers it seemed as if he knew everything and was getting information via channels we didn't even suspect to exist and his knowledge of our cases was both famous and feared. He could pester you with questions about your current case until you were ripe for a mental asylumn but he only used it to make you 'think outside the box' as he called it."

"Hmmm." Beruss half-closed her eyes for a moment, apparently evaluating what Iella had just said. "And politically?"

Iella moved forward and sat down in a chair next to Myn while she looked oddly at the Councilor. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what's his stance on galactic politics? I take he's not a loyalist, is he?"

Iella gave a bark of mirthless laughter before she caught herself. "Most certainly not. He does have connections to the regime but as Chief of CorSec he had to have those."

Beruss tilted her head. "So he's a friend of the New Republic?"

Iella winced. "I'd not go that far."

"Explain."

"He's a Corellian first and foremost. Which means for him matters at home take priority and he values a little distance to the centers of power in this galaxy." Iella smiled wryly. "You know very well how recalcitrant and stubborn us Corellians are when it comes to our independence."

Nodding in agreement Beruss cast a somewhat amused glance at Myn. "Do you agree with this assessment?"

He shrugged. "I don't know Rostek Horn well enough, Ma'am. I only met him twice."

"Well," the Councilor began and heaved a sigh, "then tell me your opinion on this: Why do you think Rostek Horn has agreed to act as intermediate?"

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "I'd have to resort to speculation, and ..."

"Then I'll take speculation," Beruss interrupted him.

Myn didn't hesitate anymore. "I think he's trying to preserve the peace on Corellia by exerting influence on people and decisions. I suspect he sees himself as some kind of ... pardon the expression, Ma'am ... supervisor for a bunch of hyperactive adolescents." He winced. "My father's words, not mine."

The Councilor raised an eyebrow. "So he's trying to preserve the status quo ante?"

"This time? Yes, defintely. He said the alternatives to Gallamby remaining in power are a lot worse, but I don't know what these alternatives are and why they'd be worse. Horn didn't specify."

"Very well." Beruss blew out another sigh and rubbed her forehead which creased into a frown. She remained silent for a few moments, then she suddely straightened and cast a glance at her wrist chrono. Rising she held out her hand to Myn and said, "I have to cut this meeting short since I've got an appointment with a Senate commission. Thank you for delivering the datacard and being honest to me."

Myn rose as well and grasped the outstretched hand to shake it. "I had little choice in that matter."

"Oh?" Surprise flickered across Beruss' face. "How so?"

"My service with the New Republic wouldn't sit well with some of the more Imperially-minded members of the Corellian leadership. And as Director Horn pointed out to me just because my return had gone unnoticed so far that doesn't mean it's going to remain that way. By doing him this favor the Diktat is indebted to me so I'm kinda safe from any repercussions. Doing this buys a modicum of safety for myself and my family."

"Ah." She gave him a searching glance and asked, "Would you be available for ..."

"No, I'm not available for any further jobs on behalf of the New Republic," Myn interrupted, for once managing to suppress his anger. "I've left Starfighter Command to live my life as I see fit and as I already told Commander Wessiri I have not the slightest inclination to endanger my family. I plan to stay out of politics, keep a low profile and live an ordinary life. Please respect that."

Beruss nodded. "I apologize, Captain. And I promise to respect your request. Once you've cleared atmosphere Commander Wessiri will erase any records of your presence on Coruscant just as you've requested. The New Republic owes you that much."

"Thank you, Councilor." Myn dipped his head and turned to leave.