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With so much make up on, Cinta looked unrecognizable. That was the point, Vel knew, but she preferred the way Cinta normally was. Focused with a hint of danger, not giggly and flirting with an Imperial officer that Vel knew her comrade would prefer to kill.
But Vel swallowed her objections and complaints and giggled when a different officer complemented her hair. Vel had dyed it red as the blood she hoped to spill, and it was now attracting creeps.
Not that avoiding the color would have helped, of course. Cinta had fended off just as many, and her hair wasn’t shining in the low lights of the bar.
Vel took another sip of her mocktail. It was still the same bright, peacock blue as when it had been served to her, which meant that the chemical she had added to it hadn’t detected any of the more common drugs the officers around her would have access to.
She glanced casually at the door as it opened. Another group of Imperial officers entered the bar, chatting casually. She had expected nothing less. This close to the Imperial Army headquarters, few who were not in the Imperial Military had any reason to come here, to the point that woman drank free in a vain attempt to correct the gender imbalance. The sea of Imperial uniforms proved it wasn’t working. Though the way the bartender hung out near Cinta and Vel suggested their arrival had made the owner hopeful.
But that hope was for not. Neither Vel nor Cinta were there for the free drinks. And once they acquired what they had come fore, neither would ever come back. Certainly not considering the way Vel had been pressured into giving her comm code to seven different Imperials in the half hour she and been there. It was a burner that she would throw away in a few hours, but it was the principle of the matter.
The Imperial officer who had complemented her hair turned away, huffing, when Vel refused to leave the bar to go hang out at his table. Vel went to take another sip of her mocktail. But Cinta put her hand on Vel’s arm.
“Beth, do you think I should give this gentleman my comm code?” Cinta asked teasingly.
Vel smiled at the officer on Cinta’s other side.
“I don’t know,” she answered, matching Cinta’s tone. “Do you think he will be polite over comms?”
“I will,” the officer said, smiling winningly. “I have to go, but I don’t want to loose touch. Tell you what: as soon as I can check my availability, I’ll invite both you ladies out for caf. My treat. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like a good deal to me,” Vel giggled. “What do you say, Ella?”
Cinta said something, capturing the officer’s attention again. Vel’s attention focused back on the entrance. It had opened again, but did not disgorge a gaggle of uniformed Imperials this time. Instead a woman in a white dress entered hesitantly.
Vel’s heart sunk. Any other day, the woman would have seen only military uniforms. But today, she would see Vel and Cinta, and be slightly more likely to assume it was sayfe. If they were the factor that convinced the woman to drink here, and she ended up getting hurt, wouldn’t it be their fault?
Vel looked down into her drink as the officer Cinta had been talking to finally left, with her comm code. The teal color of Vel’s drink seemed more hostile than the blue it had been.
If Vel tried to warn the other woman off, it would look odd. Why would Vel tell her that Vel and Cinta were deliberately putting themselves in danger? Hunting an Imperial was not an acceptable answer. Maybe Vel could invite her to sit with them? But what if that compromised the mission? Or if they were discovered, she would be implicated. An innocent life ruined.
Vel looked back at the woman and saw that she was bee-lining towards them.
“Hello,” the woman said, looking very hopeful. “May I sit with you?”
“Of course,” Vel said, smiling warmly. “Please do. The more, the merrier.”
This was a terrible idea. But Vel couldn’t bring herself to reject her.
“Thank you,” the woman gushed, beaming at them. She sat down on the barstool next to Vel. “My name is Vera.”
“I’m Beth, and this is Ella,” Vel said, leaning back a bit so Vera and Cinta could see each other. “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Vera said. “It’s my first time here. Do you know this place well?”
“No,” Cinta said. “It’s our first time too. But free drinks are free drinks, eh?”
“Too true!” Vera exclaimed. “Speaking of which…” She turned her attention to the bartender, who was hovering nearby.
“Of course, miss,” the bartender said eagerly. “What will it be?”
“I’ll have a bottle of Space Vodka,” Vera said.
“Coming right up,” the bartender announced.
“We’ve been drinking mocktails,” Vel offered cautiously. “Since we’re unfamiliar with the place.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Vera said, smiling warmly. “I handle drink well.”
Maybe Vel should have said it more judgementally, to chase Vera away, but she couldn’t bear to. The other woman just seemed so innocent and happy for friends. Vel knew she should chase her off for her own good, but it was very, very difficult.
“Thanks,” Vera accepted her drink from the bartender.
She took a deep draught of silver glitter-filled drink. Her eyes flicked past Vel and Cinta.
“White uniforms?” Vera said. “Those aren’t army or navy, right?”
Vel and Cinta looked towards the entrance. Half a dozen ISB officers had entered. Among them, smirking, was Jutik Ruselt, their target.
“I don’t know what branch they’re from, but that one’s your type, isn’t he, Ella?” Vel asked. Internally, she cursed herself or getting distracted by Vera enough to miss the target’s entrance.
“Yeah, he is,” Cinta said. In truth, the ISB officer was probably not Cinta’s type at all, but they knew that Cinta was his type, especially with the makeup. That was why Cinta was taking the lead on the mission. She would, hopefully, disarm him.
“Wait for a moment,” Vera said. “I think he might come this way.”
“I suppose I can wait,” Cinta said, throwing Vera a wink.
Vel’s gut twisted jealously. She accepted it and ignored it, promising to think more on it after the mission.
Considering the mission, Cinta wasn’t supposed to engage with the target immediately, anyways, so it didn’t matter if they followed Vera’s advice. And it might look more natural if it came from Vera.
…At the cost of implicating Vera. Vel glanced at the other woman. She smiled back, beautiful and mysterious. Her tight braids were strung with tiny pale beads that shone in the bar’s lights, much like stars in the night sky. Her white dress was stained in the oranges and blues of the neon tubes of the signage, but her skin was unaffected. She looked innocent and friendly but something deep in the back of Vel’s head saw her as dangerous as a goddess.
For a moment, Vera met Vel’s eyes, and her sweet smile became as sharp as a nexu looking at her cub.
And then the moment was over. Vera seemed perfectly gentle and innocent again. The aspect of power had vanished like light in the depths of Coruscant.
“See?” Vera said. “He’s coming this way. Get ready to shoot your shot, Ella!”
The target was coming their way, separated from his friends. He leaned against the bar a couple seats down from Cinta and caught the bartender’s attention. He rattled off a bunch of orders that left the bartender scrambling.
“Bartenders, eh?” he scoffed, turning to Cinta.
Cint agave a giggle, totally ignoring the bartender’s flushed face. Vel was suddenly glad that Cinta was the one in the lead position for the mission. She would have been too put off by the senseless, causal cruelty to pretend to be interested.
Vel watched in stunned half-amusement and half-horror as the target proceeded to focus solely on Cinta, totally ignoring Vel and Vera. He didn’t ask for their names or why they were there. Vel had memorized a whole backstory and it seemed their target would never even learn her fake name.
Cinta flirted back haltingly, her back tensing. At some point, he sat down next to Cinta, staring at her. He ordered drinks, surprisingly for all of them, but he did so without asking any of them what they’d like to drink, or even looking Vel or Vera in the eye.
Vel felt a little insulted. He clearly didn’t see her as a threat or even someone worth considering. It was a mistake on his part, but not one he was likely to ever know of.
The drink the target ordered for all of them was an alchoholic one. Not ideal for rebellious work, but Vel saw no way to avoid drinking it. Making a scene would only endanger their mission. Maybe she could get away with just not drinking it; it didn’t seem like the target was likely to focus on her long enough to ask her anything. At least the bartender cleared her contaminated drink.
Vel caught a flash of motion from Cinta’s hand. Cinta relaxed slightly and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. Vel suppressed a smile. That was the signal that she had successfully planted the drug in the target’s drink. The next moment, he took a deep sip, pausing his meaningless chatter just long enough to swallow before continuing.
“Wanna switch?” Vera asked.
Vel switched her focus to Vera. The other woman was pushing her empty glass towards Vel.
“Yes, please,” Vel smiled. She passed her full glass over to Vera and took the empty one. She dropped her voice and said, “Thanks. Best one of us stays sober, you know?”
“Think nothing of it, Beth,” Vera said warmly. “I want to help.”
“Some say the problem in the galaxy is that not enough people help each other,” Vel said. “You are surely not part of that problem.”
Vera grinned and duched her head as if flushing, though the color of her skin hid it.
On Vel’s other side, Cinta yelped. Vel spun around to see the target lifting Cinta off her barstool, into a bridal carry.
Vel froze, eyes wide. The drug hadn’t been given enough time to go into effect. Cinta was supposed to suggest they go to the target’s room an hour after giving him the drugs.
Cinta looked at Vel over the target’s shoulder. Her eyes were hard and determined.
“Stay,” she mouthed.
Vel didn’t know what to do. Attacking the target in plain sight would ruin the mission and draw scrutiny to their disguises, which were not made to stand up to real scrutiny. Following him risked doing the same, which Cinta would hate. Cinta herself had told Vel to stay, to not botch the mission.
A hand on Vel’s shoulder grounded her.
“Relax,” Vera said, her voice calm and even. “I know exactly what to do. Simply follow my lead. Our friend will be alright.”
Vel tried to take a deep breath.
“How can you be sure?” Vel asked.
“Because we will not be idle. Because this was foretold.”
Vera turned away and flagged down the bartender, who was just returning from bringing the target’s table their drinks.
“Pardon me, but my new friend left her ident card behind.” Vera waved a hand that seemed to contain an extremely convincing ident card. “The gentleman she left with said he had a room in the hotel above. Justik Ruselt? Can you tell me that his room number is 1324?”
“Of course, ma’am,” the bartender said, his voice a little duller and his eyes a little glassy. “Mr. Ruselt is staying in room number 1324.”
“Thank you,” Vera chirped. She slipped her arm into Vel’s and pulled her along with seemingly gentle strength.
Vel didn’t bother struggling. It seemed Vera wanted to help Cinta, which Vel also wanted to do. But also, the exchanged with the bartender was already burnt into Vel’s mind. She almost thought she had imagined it. It seemed so impossible. There was nothing in Vel’s experience like it. Vera had simply requested the bartender say something, and he had, ignoring the fact that she had told him exactly the number she wanted him to say.
Vel had heard stories, though, of people who could do impossible things. They were said to be extinct, but the Empire lied about many things. Was Vera a Jedi, then? Vel didn’t know enough about Jedi to say.
Vel wouldn’t ask. If Vera was a Jedi, she would have a good reason to keep it quiet after the Empire killed her people. Besides, Vel wasn’t sure if Vera even knew Vel and Cinta held anti-imperial sentiments. Which was a good thing. Vel hadn’t actually ruled out the mysterious woman could be an imperial agent.
Vera and Vel exited the bar in the same direction as the target and Cinta, by going deeper into the building. They entered a small elevator, and Vera hit a button.
As the elevator doors closed, Vera had to bite back her curiosity.
Fortunately, they weren’t in the elevator long enough for Vel to slip up. The doors opened quickly and Vera led the way down a long hotel hallway of ordinary doors. Vel noted the room numbers, but Vera didn’t seem to bother, just striding along with startling speed. Vel had to jog to keep up.
Then Vera stumbled. Vel overshot her a little, and turned back to her. Vera’s eyes were wide, and staring past Vel.
“Kriff,” Vel snarled.
Vera started running. Her dress fluttered in the wind of her passage. Vel scrambled to keep up, but Vera was too fast. Vel worried about falling, since her outfit was not really made for sprinting. The skirt lashed around her legs and threatened to trip her up.
But then, Vera skidded to a stop in front of a door and opened it.
“Wait!” Vera called into the room. “He has an implant that will alert the ISB of his death!”
Vel caught up. Her breath came quickly and her heart was pumping, full of life and motion. Somehow, Vera was not out of breath. A glance at the door confirmed her half-formed suspicion: the number beside it was that of the target’s room.
“What?” Cinta said from inside the room. “Beth? Are you there?”
Vera stepped inside and closed the door after Vel. Finally, Vel saw was was going on.
Cinta was pointing a blaster at the target, who was lying down on the carpeted floor. He had an arm pressed over his stomach, and the white of his uniform was growing red around the arm. The reason for that hung in Cinta’s off hand: her stiletto, dripping red from the silver blade. The room was a relatively small hotel room, with enough space for a Chancellor-sized bed, a desk, and a small dining table.
“Ella,” Vel gasped, hurrying to her side. “Are you alright?”
“None of the blood is mine,” Cinta said evenly, keeping her eyes focused on the target. “But he attempted to hurt me and I defended myself. I think I’ve ruined everything.”
“No,” Vel said sharply. “He ruined things. He got himself killed.”
“What the hell is going on!” the target snapped, his voice weakened by pain. “How did you get in here?”
“The door was unlocked,” Vera said blandly.
“I intentionally locked it,” the target insisted. He shifted a little, wincing. “And why did you two even follow me?”
“None of your business,” Vel snapped, bristling. “Shut up.” She turned to Vera and spoke in a calmer tone. “What were you saying about an implant?”
“He has an implant that will alert the ISB to his death,” Vera reported. “They will have agents here within half an hour, forcing you to abandon most of the intel you can get from his room.”
“That is confidential information,” the target seethed.
“You’re saying we have a time limit after killing him?” Cinta snapped. “When were you going to tell us?”
“It was not yet the right time, until now,” Vera said calmly. “One of you should start gathering the intel. I have some questions for your target.”
The target’s face had gone pale and fearful, with a hint of fury.
“Leth, which role do you want?” Vel asked, dropping any pretense that they weren’t agents there to gather information.
“I can keep an eye on him, Besh,” Cinta said. “I don’t want to turn my back on him right now.”
“I’ll gather the intel, then,” Vel said. She turned and walked over to the desk, where a few datapads were piled up.
“Get away from there, insubordinate scum!” the target snarled.
Vel ignored him.
“Don’t focus on her,” Vera ordered him. “Two missions ago, you reported to Darth Vader, did you not?”
Vel kept an ear open to the conversation as she cracked open one of the datapads. Among the components, she noticed two that were unfamiliar and one she recognized as a standard anti-theft tracker.
“What are you talking about?” the target said uneasily.
“Do not lie to me,” Vera said, her voice more than a voice again. “Do not lie. Did you report to Vader?”
“Yes.” A pause. “No! Stay out of my head, you witch!”
“Shh,” Vera said, and Vel heard her voice echo in her head.
Vel had wrenched all three of the suspect components out of the datapad. She inspected it for anything else suspicious. Fiding nothing, she put it back together and set it down. She picked up another.
“Hus,” Vera said. “Where was he? Where did you meet him?”
“I’ll tell you nothing, witch!” But the target’s voice was strained with more than pain.
“Am I not your friend?” Vera half-sang. “Do you not trust me more than life itself?”
“I…” the target sounded confused.
“Tell your friend,” Vera purred. “Tell your friend where you reported to Vader.”
“Mustafar,” the target mumbled.
Vel, having pulled out two components, set the new datapad on top of the first and moved onto a third.
“I was glad it was Mustafar,” the target continued, becoming almost conversational. “It’s hot, but better that than being underwater.”
“What’s underwater, my friend?” Vera asked.
“An inquisorial base. On the planet [Name].”
“Thank you, dear. You have made your friend very happy,” Vera said hypnotically. “Now, where do you keep your most confidential information?”
The third datapad was done. She moved on to the last datapad on the desk.
“I keep…” the target trailed off. “You don’t need to know. Need to know only.”
“But I do need to know,” Vera said. “I need to know so I can protect it. You’re bleeding out. You’re dying. After you’re dead, don’t you want me to protect it for you?”
“Oh,” the target said sadly. “I guess I am dying. There’s a safe under the bed. Promise to protect it?”
Vera finished checking over the last datapad. She moved on to the drawers, opening them one by one to check for anything useful.
Vera was quiet.
The target gasped.
“Shit fucker!” he yelled out loud, making Vel jump a little. “You kriffing witch! I’ll kill you!”
“Unlikely,” Vera said, a smile in her voice.
The target made a grunt of exertion followed by a gasp of pain.
“Kriff,” he whimpered.
“I’ve checked the desk,” Vel announced, “and cleared the datapads.”
“Can I kill him, then?” Cinta asked.
“How about after we open up the safe,” Vera suggested, smiling up at Cinta.
Vera had knelt down next to the target, but was now getting to her feet. There was a hint of sadness in her smile. Maybe she felt guilty about what she had done, messing with a man’s mind. Or maybe she was sympathetic for what Cinta had been through.
Regardless, she went to the bed without a second glance at the Imperial. Vel followed.
“Stupid witch,” the target wheezed. “You never asked for the combination! And now I know what you’re capable of, I won’t say anything!”
Vel remembered that Vera had opened the door to the room, which the target had claimed had been locked. Sure enough, when Vera dragged a small safe from beneath the bed, she opened it without difficulty or even pretending to enter a combination into the lock. There were two datachips, which Vera passed to Vel, and a small stash of credits, which Vera pocketed.
Vel didn’t complain. The datachips were likely worth thousands of times the credits.
“It’s time, Leth,” Vel ordered.
“No! Wait!” the target gasped. “Please! I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t kill me!”
“The only thing I want from you,” Cinta snarled, her face twisted in beautiful rage, “is your death.”
The sound of the blaster bolt was loud in the enclosed space.
Vel wanted to kiss her.
“Now let’s get out of here,” Cinta said, smiling. “Vera, are you coming with Besh and I? Your skills could be useful to the Rebellion.”
“I’ll show you a secret way out of here, but I need to return to my child,” Vera answered. “Hopefully, we will see each other again.”
The three of them left. Soon, there was no evidence they had been there except the corpse in a room looted of intelligence.