*peeks around a corner and waves* Hi... how are you? If you had the suspicion that I'd never update this story, I can't say that I blame you. Life, unfortunately, has done it's best to get in the way of my writing. Thank you to all who have left kind reviews and shared your love of the characters in this story. It means more to me than you'll ever know! Without further ado: the Alderaan adventure continues!

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars

3 years ago

"Vena! Where are you!?"

"I'm moving into position! Keep your shirt on-"

Static crackles over the secure comm channel. Blaster fire can be heard in the distance.

"Man down, man down! Who has eyes on Dack!?"

"I have him in my sights. Awaiting orders."

"Éirtae, please respond. Éirtae!"

An explosion rocks the square. Screams rise above the din.

"Get Her Highness into the transport now!"

"ÉIRTAE!"

Secure communication between the Royal Handmaidens, mid Marshvyn attack

I can honestly say that being interviewed for a position within a criminal ring is something I'd never anticipated being so… easy. In fact, it lasted all of two minutes; in which Hestia Proffit tested my shooting skills by tossing miscellaneous droid parts in the air in order to gauge if I could hit them.

In regards to the droid parts, I hope R2 never gets wind of this. He may never forgive me.

Then, all Yané had been required to do was slice into the security system of the dive bar in which we had our first meeting. Proffit merely raised an eyebrow when the lights behind the bar began to flash like a stage performance on steroids and the bartender panickedly pressed buttons to halt the impromptu laser show.

I, however, was impressed with Yané's technical skill. She deserves a raise for that one. In fact, we both do for agreeing to this convoluted plan.

Hestia takes her measure of us once more before nodding. "You'll do." With no further fanfare, she stands to her feet and motions for us to follow her.

Yané and I share a glance before doing as the frightening woman wishes. I vaguely remember seeing Proffit from a distance during the Marshvyn attack but I failed to notice the biceps that looked like she could burst melons between them within less than five seconds.

Don't think I'm being dramatic. I went to a fair once in my last life and saw such a thing happen. Some things just stick with you…

Roughly an hour later of travel via landspeeder - in which Yané is our pilot, as we know of my deeply rooted trauma related to any land traversing vehicles - Proffit escorts us to their base of operations; deep within a system of caves that Bin-Ra Dack and his crew have managed to turn into a fully functioning command center. It's a multi-leveled complex carved deep into the mountain, in true Alderaanian style. After seeing the vast amount of work that has been put into the airdock alone, I can't help but wonder if we've bitten off more than we can chew.

I really need to ask for a raise during my next evaluation.

We're assigned an access code by Rona Syco, who looks about as slippery as a Kaadarian biting eel. If you'd ever tried to catch one of those little shabheads you'd understand exactly how much of a pain it is to ever prevent them from stealing bait off of your line. I've heard my father curse their existence many times… which, now that I think about it, clearly explains where my foul vocabulary came from.

"Don't you lose these now," Rona waggles his eyebrows. "These codes are tricky to replace."

I can feel Yané bristling beside me. Maybe if I'm lucky, she won't completely eviscerate this man for his lack of skills in comparison to hers.

"I'll have to disagree with you, mate. Any slicer worth his space salt can burn an old access code to create a new one." But then again, I shouldn't try to place any hope in being lucky. That hasn't ever worked out well for me.

"I've heard about you Coruscanti types thinking you know everything, but I never believed it until now." Before Yané can interject, Proffit clears her throat and Rona scurries backwards.

Apparently I'm not the only one intimidated by her biceps.

"That's enough, Syco. Don't you have something better to do than float around like a buzzfly?"

I share a look with Yané, who seems just as confused as I am. I'd always thought the expression went, 'like a mayfly.'

"Of course, Hestia. Anything you say, Hestia." Rona continues to step backwards. "Buzzing off now!" He taps the chrono on his wrist which causes a panel to open beneath his feet and he drops out of sight within a blink.

Of course they have trap doors here. Why wouldn't they have trap doors here?

Proffit grumbles under her breath before leading us into what must be the command room. Bin-Ra Dack and the IOI that I didn't recognize in the security briefing, Peivi Korraay are poised over a screen. I watch as what appears to be miniscule objects scatter and then converge into a cone-like shape on the screen.

They turn at the sound of our footsteps and the images disappears from the screen. Kriff.

"Ah, Hestia. Good to see you." I try not to grimace as revulsion turns my stomach at the sight of Dack. For a domestic terrorist, you'd think he'd look more noteworthy. He's of average height, average looks, but there is something in the way he carries himself that lends to an unfortunate charismatic ability. I suppose villainous types such as he wouldn't get very far if they didn't possess this particular trait.

Peivi, on the other hand, looks as if she wishes to blend into the wall. Her goggles, which cause her eyes to look rather insect-like, slide down her nose before she adjusts them with her index finger. She also can't seem to stop fidgeting. Perhaps she is nervous?

"I take it these are the new hires?" Dack scans Yané and I from head to toe. "Glad to see you wanted to join the cause."

"No offense, boss," I start, leaning into the Coruscanti accent I'd rehearsed during the hyperspace flight over here. "But I'd heard word that you'll make it worth our while?"

Dack seems disappointed, as if surprised that we weren't true believers in whatever cause he'd crafted to flatter his own self-importance. "The money's good, I assure you." He turns to Peivi, who blinks rapidly in return. "Why don't you show them around the place? Get them familiar before our work starts."

It clearly wasn't a question and any protest from her is ignored. A moment later, we're following her through the labyrinthine halls that make up their base of operations. How did they have this much time to create something of this scale? It'll be a nightmare later trying to uncover any useful information without being caught.

"W-what you'll find here to the left are the dorms." She places her hand against a scanner on the wall and the door slides open. "You can make yourself comfortable before Dack calls for you."

I scan the room, though I'm certain that my observation isn't nearly as detailed as Yané's, before turning to Peivi. She might be an anxious individual, but our best hope of ingratiating ourselves to this group has to be through her. "Thanks for the tour, but you didn't show us where the kitchens were."

"Oh, they're j-just down the hallway to your-"

"Brilliant! Why don't you show us the way? I'm starving and could use a little snack, don't you agree?" This is likely the only time that I'll be speaking the truth during this operation. For dramatic effect, my stomach rumbles loudly.

Peivi swallows before nodding and motioning for us to follow her. "Right, then. I'll show you the way." I can't help but note her accent. It's subtle, to be sure, but there's something special about Peive Korraay that is not in her IOI file.

She's from Kaadara.

3 years ago

Padmé has wilted in her chair, her hands pressed to her face as her shoulders shake. The news continues to broadcast live on the holoscreen on the wall.

"It appears now that the bombing in Marshvyn was planned and executed by Bin-Ra Dack and facilitated by Lord Sio Wendin. Lord Wendin has been taken into custody by the Royal Naboo Security Force, along with other members of the Wendin family whose names have not been released at this time. Further reports indicate multiple casualties have occurred and-"

"For kark's sake, turn it off!" I angrily cut the feed and turn towards the others. Éirtae has her face buried in the crook of her arm, which does little to mute the sound of her sobbing. Rabé tries to console her by rubbing her back.

"Éirtae, this isn't your fault… "

"You don't understand! How could I have missed this? They're my kriffing family." Any amusement that I would have at Éirtae's curse evaporates into thin air. "I should have known better, I should have done something."

Yané shakes her head while Saché stares blankly at the table. I'm not sure where Dané went after Panaka questioned her for disobeying orders during the attack. If she hadn't done so, however, Padmé might've been Hestia Proffit's next victim.

"Éirtae, statistically speaking, even if you had been aware of your uncle's scheming with Bin-Ra Dack, the chances of success at preventing this would have been slim to none."

Éirtae releases a watery laugh that sounds more like a shock reaction than any sense of amusement. "How do you figure, Yané?"

"I've read numerous peer reviewed studies on this and each one came to a simple conclusion: even if you share their blood, that doesn't make them your family. What they have done is not a reflection on you or a failure on your part to act."

For the first time in the past hour, Éirtae lifts her head. Her eyes are swollen and red and her bottom lip quivers. Saché takes the opportunity to pass her a handkerchief with a muttered, "There, there."

"So, what you're saying is, even though my family is horrible, that doesn't automatically make me horrible by association?"

Yané nods. "Exactly! The science proves it!"

I slide into the seat next to Padmé, who is appearing to be calming from her emotional state earlier. "If it helps, Éirtae, I have a cousin who was arrested for stealing a guppyfish from the constable's aquarium."

Silence follows, before Saché chimes in. "Now that you mention it, my great-grandfather was forced to do community service for spray painting a middle finger symbol on a Naboo cruiser."

"Is that true?"

"I swear! I have a picture of it if you want proof!"

Éirtae shakes her head and honks loudly into the handkerchief while clearing her nose. Rabé, to her credit, doesn't even flinch at the sound. "I know what you all are trying to do."

"Have you heard about the time my second cousin, twice-removed, raised an army of monkey-lizards in order to storm Theed?" Éirtae's mouth twitches as Saché continues to exaggerate, while the rest of us snicker. Padmé coughs politely into her hand.

"Oh! I did hear about that, Saché." I chime in. "It was my great aunt's best friend's sister-in-law that supplied the monkey-lizards. She was trading in the black market for exotic wildlife."

"I see. I always knew Cabo dislike of you had to come from somewhere."

At that, we all burst into laughter. Whether it was from emotional exhaustion, or our ability to leave each other in hysterics after having spent so much time together, I can't say.

"I don't know what I'd do without you all." Éirtae states after we've all calmed down.

My smile is wobbly before I reply with, "Don't worry, you're stuck with us."

"You know, I never caught your names." Peivi seems to have conquered her nervous energy from before, as I haven't heard a stutter from her since we left the kitchen. I can't help but rub my now full stomach.

They might be evil IOIs but I will give them credit for having a well-stocked pantry.

"My name's Kellis and my friend here is Bree."

Peivi stumbles for a moment and Yané darts forward to catch her. She looks back at us with wide eyes, emphasized even further by her goggles.

"Oh, Kellis, you say? That's an unusual name."

I blink. I'd thought it was a rather common name, myself. It suited my grandmother just fine anyways. "Meh, I can't exactly help that. You'd have to take it up with my parents."

Peivi looks as if she might comment further before changing her mind. "Don't mind me. I have a tendency to say the wrong things at the wrong time. I feel like a gooberfish on a barbed hook."

"No worries." I tilt my head and study her. "Not to sound rude, but… why are you working here?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Well, kriff, now I've offended her. "I'm just as capable as the rest of the team, even if I can't smuggle weapons like Marlo, or crush a man's skull between my biceps like Hestia."

I knew that woman had supernatural biceps.

"In fact," Red splotches have appeared on Peivi's cheeks as she carries on. "They wouldn't even be here without me and my contributions!"

An awkward silence follows before Yané raises her hand hesitantly. "If that's so… what is it that you do?"

Peivi huffs out a breath. "I'm the brains of this operation and Bin-Ra Dack is the face. That's all you need to know."

With that said, Peivi promptly excuses herself with the reasoning of: "Dack is probably waiting on me. You'll be briefed on your tasks later."

For the first time since we've arrived, Yané and I are finally left alone. We immediately dash into one of the supply rooms. Yané takes her datapad out of her bag, fingers flying as she whispers to me.

"Just give me one second… ah, done! There aren't any bugs or listening devices in here, so we should be safe for the moment."

I plop myself onto a plasteel crate and rest my chin on my fist. "Did you catch what they were observing on the screen when we entered the command room?"

"Only a glimpse. It looked almost like one of Captain Panaka's holo screensavers, but surely it's something more valuable than that." I switch on my comm, tuned to a secure channel before uttering the passphrase.

"Troll in the dungeon… troll in the dungeon. Thought you oughta know."

"Vena, you're no longer allowed to come up with the passphrases." Well, excuse me for having a little fun, Panaka. "Report."

"We are now gainfully employed, if you can call it that, by Dack and his organization. Later this evening, we will be able to search more thoroughly and provide better information."

"Noted. Any observations as of yet?"

"Sir," Yane interjects. "I know that this IOI has no criminal record logged, but I think it would be advantageous to dig further into Peivi Korraay's background."

"I agree, Captain. If it helps, she's clearly from Kaadara."

"Anyone can fake an accent, Vena, as you well know." I mock Panaka's voice by opening and closing my hand, earning a giggle from Yané.

"She used a Kaadarian phrase. Unless she studied up on it for some strange reason, I've never heard anyone who's not from there referencing gooberfish and barbed hooks."

"We'll look into it. Report back as soon as you can once you've gathered more intel."

"10-4."

The call ends and I share a conspiratory look with Yané.

"Now the question is, how are we going to get into that command room?"

"I can't believe they're making me babysit the newbie." Rona grumbles under his breath as he leads me out of the base towards the landspeeder concealed outside.

"I don't make the rules, mate. I also don't have nearly enough ammunition for the job the boss requires of me."

"Supply runs are beneath me." Hard for something to be beneath the human equivalent of pond scum, but I opt out of commenting. Yané'd better have some good intel by the time I get back. "You better be quick about this."

"I didn't ask to go on kriffing errands with you either, did I?" I put on an offended tone, which seems to please the man for some reason. "Why don't you ask Marlo Vin why he doesn't keep enough ammo on stock before griping at me, eh?"

"Don't get me started on Marlo." Rona jerks the gear on the speeder forward, causing us to shoot forward at an inordinate speed. Good grief, is he a worse flier than I am?

I'm not going to die by speeder crash. I'm not going to die by speeder crash.

After ten minutes that felt like hours, we lurch to a stop in the Market. The Market, in question, is not a place for collecting produce or selling homemade wares. Rather, it appears to be the center of the Alderaanian cesspool.

"I'm going to get a drink." Rona jerks his head towards a crowded bar on his left. "Don't get lost now."

"I thought you were supposed to be, 'babysitting,'" I quote, curling my index and middle fingers in emphasis. "You can't just leave me here." Please leave, please leave, please leave.

Rona pats me on the head mockingly. "I think you can handle yourself, you're a big girl from Coruscant after all."

I open my mouth in false protest before he turns and waves over his shoulder. "I'll see you in an hour or two."

"I thought you wanted me to hurry!" I call after him, which he stubbornly ignores. It's all I can do not to dance a happy jig once he disappears inside the bar. "Good riddance."

I begin studying the various and sundry items that the vendors, and I use the term, 'vendors,' very lightly in this scenario, are offering. Between what I know is illegal contraband and unauthorized weapons modifications, there's enough evidence here to shut down the Market permanently if the Republic were to become involved.

But I highly doubt the Alderaan Market is high on the Republic's priority list.

A wizened old woman at the booth to my right gestures at me with her right hand. "You, over there, you don't belong here!"

No karking kidding. Was it the blue hair dye that gave it away?

I choose to ignore her and continue to peruse the wares in front of me. "I'm talking to you, you know!" Maybe if I continue to ignore her, she'll eventually shut up. "If you keep ignoring me, I'll only get louder."

Oh for crying out loud.

I turn and march over to her before crossing my arms. "I don't know what your problem is, old lady, but I'm just here to shop."

She grins, revealing blackened gums and more than a few teeth missing. I have the sudden urge to floss more often than I already do. "I think you and I both know that's not true. You don't belong here."

"I didn't think the Market vendors discriminated, but I suppose-"

"You know exactly what I mean, girl," I pause at the change in depth of her tone. It's as if she's enlarging before my eyes. What sort of magical shab does she practice?

"You stepped through the looking glass," My heart skips a beat. My hands begin to shake. "Poor Alyssa, sticking her nose into places she shouldn't."

How does she know my kriffing past name? I take a step backwards. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Listen closely, girl, for I won't repeat myself again." She jerks forward, clasping my arm in an iron grip. "You aren't meant to be here. But the other one… " Her grip tightens. "The other one has a purpose."

"What do you mean by the other one?" I tremble as it feels like an electrical current travels from her hand up my arm. I hear skidding tires, a blaring horn, and the crunching of metal and shattering of glass.

"Sweet, foolish Alyssa. You're not as alone as you think."

A commotion to my left startles me enough and I jerk out of her grasp. A group of Rodians scramble past me, each holding armfuls of datapads.

"Stop right there!" A voice calls out. "Thief!"

I look back at the terrifying woman and gulp when I see that where she was sitting is suddenly vacated.

Kriff. What the… how…

I must be hallucinating. Clearly I'm experiencing hyperspace lag.

But… what if it's true?

What if there's someone else here that is like me?

After the commotion in the Market dies down, I locate the ammunition that I claimed to be lacking before heading back in the direction of the bar Rona Syko had abandoned me for.

I walk as if in a daze; feeling altogether rattled by the encounter with the woman who'd managed to pull a Houdini act and disappear into thin air. I can't wait for this assignment to be over. I'm taking a vacation after this.

My ears catch the sound of a young man's voice, arguing with a vendor a small distance away. Something about that voice seems familiar…

"I'm just saying, if you think I'm going to believe this accelerant makes any speeder fly faster, you're a few parts short of a droid."

"Anakin, this argument is unnecessary." I nearly drop the ammo clips in my arms.

Kriff. Kriff-kriff-kriff.

Surely my luck isn't this bad. Surely.

I crane my neck to see past the crowd, where the object of the disturbance waves his arms in the air.

"I'm sorry, Master. I just can't believe what this guy is trying to sell me."

"Have you considered the fact that this has nothing to do with our objective, my young Padawan?"

Of course my luck is this bad.

I dash into the bar and drag Rona Syko out by his collar.

"What are you-get your hands off of me!"

"It's time that we head back." If Anakin or Obi-Wan sees me and blows my cover, we're screwed to Naboo and back and twice over for good measure. "I don't want the boss to blame me for wasting valuable time."

"Alright, alright." He jerks away from my grasp and adjusts the front of his shirt as if I'd irreparably stretched the material. "This is an expensive shirt."

"Can we just leave, please?"

I hold my breath until we reach the speeder and are safely hovering away from the Market. I glance over my shoulder and swear as Anakin looks in our direction. His eyes narrow at first before widening in recognition. He smacks Obi-Wan's arm, who gives him an unamused look before turning our way.

I sink further into the seat. This is not good. This is not good at all.

I have a very bad feeling about this.

A/N Anyone else have any theories on the other one? I've been looking forward to the moment where I could share that bit of information. Thank you for reading and I'll see you next time!