As our 'interrogation' kept going on, I didn't need the Force to know he'd lied about his name. When we asked, after the fifth or sixth time, he'd given one, of course, it was something plain, forgettable, the sort of alias that you would file into the back of your mind and then forget about an hour later. Even then, when I was focusing on him, I knew when his training had kicked in, almost like a self-hypnotism that made it hard for even a Jedi to catch on that he was lying. If not for my current state, I doubt I could even identify when he lies and when he tells the truth. He'd practiced not thinking about the truth so often that the habit itself had become a truth for him.
For security measures, we had him cuffed to a bulkhead bench in the Silverlight's forward utility room. I chose this spot on purpose: It was close to the cargo bay where the new R7 sat on skids, close to the cockpit if we had to move, far enough from the main hatch that he couldn't make a dash for it even with a miracle. Vila leaned one shoulder to the opposite bulkhead, arms loosely crossed, watching him like a nexu watches a rustle in tall grass, ready to pounce. But, she didn't look angry, and that was the point. We wanted him to think the worst of what a Jedi could do or know, without even touching or asking him.
On the other hand, after HK finished checking the astromech, he stood slightly to the side, behind our prisoner, where a human's head doesn't naturally turn, making it impossible for him to track, and constantly stayed out of sight. To make him know he was there, and keep up the mental pressure, every so often, his servos made that tiny corrective whirr, doing his best to annoy him.
[Commentary: His respiration is controlled. Conclusion: He is inhibiting pain response. Addendum: Physical torture may be ineffective.]
"We aren't torturing him..." I mumbled, rolling my eyes again. To prove that, the prisoner's broken wrist had been set in a brace, and of course, I had done that, not HK.
"Let's try again," Vila said lightly, interrupting us. "You were here to recover the R7 and not because you missed your little friend's witty banter, but because it contains the source for the backdoor you installed." She tipped her chin toward the cargo bay. "What we want to know is who has access to it and why."
While Vila was speaking, I was wholly focused on the man's emotions and thoughts. What I could glean from it, from his natural reactions, was that he was devoted to his mission and people. There was one new thing, though... a passing thought.
"Recover," I repeated out loud, making the man flinch, his eyes flicking to me. "You noticed when HK found and accessed the backdoor." I realized why he went to get the droid. He probably thought the mechanics found something... "Okay," I said, like it was trivial, waving his gaze away, "We'll circle back to this later. Let's talk about the attack earlier. Those seven ships, all drones, we figured that much out. When will the next attack come?"
Still nothing... On the surface, that is. Under it? There it was: a ripple of reassurance.
"So it will come soon... Tsk." I deduced, and when his mind rippled again, I knew I was right.
"Cute routine," he finally said something, "Say everything out loud so I can 'confirm' it with my mind. Jedi are indeed too dangerous to face one-on-one..."
[Correction: Because you are weak.] HK's optical sensors brightened a fraction while speaking, [Condescending Comment: Meatbag inefficiency.]
"Ignore the droid," I crouched enough to get into his line of sight without making it a contest. "Listen," I said quietly. "I'm not going to push into your head. I could, but I won't because it may hurt you permanently. You already know I can read the edges and know that's enough for both of us."
"I have nothing to say to you," he said flatly.
"Yes, you do," I corrected him, "Look... Let's trade. Give me the reason why this is happening, and we can step in to mediate so nobody has to die."
"Blood has already been spilled," he said, looking directly in my eyes, and this time, he was a hundred percent honest, "Their punishment is coming, and not even you, Jedi, can do anything about it."
[Announcement: My analysis subroutine had just finished going over the downloaded data from the R7.] HK announced suddenly, making me look up at him.
"Took you long enough... So? What did you find?" I stood up, knowing that we won't get much from the spy... He believed he was on a righteous mission, and he was ready to die for it. Continuing would be... futile.
[Radiant Satisfaction: The infection vector of the backdoor installation is not software-only. Discovery: A secondary transmitter module is embedded within the scomp link assembly.]
"Wait," Vila blinked, looking back towards the astromech, "The… Jack-in needle?"
[Pedagogical Tone: The scomp link housing has been re-machined to include an ultra-thin signal wafer bonded beneath the primary data bus. Explanation: It is disguised as stock plating. Purpose: packet injection and tight-beam relays. Translation for Meatbags: whenever this R7 was jacked into a terminal, it could impersonate an authorized device, exfiltrate, and plant new pathways. Addendum: It is an automated injection with its own, low-signal energy source, working even when the unit is powered off or rendered inactive.]
"That's... pretty sophisticated, no?" Vila whistled, "So the shop plugged it in to wipe him..." She jerked a thumb toward the cargo bay, "...and the infection jumped upstream."
[Commendation: Exactly. Addendum: The shop's local system became a carrier. From there, the payload propagated into the station proper. Observation: Elegant. Offensive. If not for being a meatbag invention, I would even compliment it.]
"You can cut that thing into confetti," the Mandalorian suddenly chuckled, "Doesn't matter even if you know how we did it. The gate's already open, and you won't be able to close it in time."
"..." We were running out of time, I could feel it more and more. Damn it. If we can't stop a second attack...
With the backdoor, he probably set up commands in advance, kicking in, timed with the wave. As for what commands, who knows, but I wouldn't be surprised if the station's or the Golans' shields would malfunction. Or maybe their targeting systems. Not good...
"Kael?" Vila asked, noticing my mood shift, "What do we do next?"
"We keep him," I said, "For now. We may have only an hour or a little more to find a way to shut the open doors..."
"Mhm..." She nodded slowly, approving. "Should we hand him over?"
"If we give him to station security, he may vanish," I said, thinking. "We don't know if there are any others like him aboard, or if he planted some kind of failsafe for being thrown into jail. Not to mention, we are outsiders too; there may be a high chance they would suspect us."
"Just flash this," She shrugged, flipping her lightsaber in her hand, "They called us here anyway, no?"
"And they haven't contacted us yet." I warned her, "It smells fishy..."
"They don't know we are here?" Vila offered, but I wasn't entirely sure about it. I wasn't getting that feeling... "Okay, we keep him. Then?"
"We'll take a look," I said, my eyes flashing.
"Look at what?" She blinked, tilting her head.
"His room." I smiled, reaching for the card HK found inside his inner pocket.
"..." Grimacing, the spy met my gaze head-on, trying to give me a warning. "You will draw your whole Order into something that you are not invited to."
"Ooooh," Vila perked up immediately, "We are onto something~! Hehehe~!"
"Yeah," I agreed, "He got anxious when I said we would visit his home... Let's go, we are a step behind them!" I glanced at HK while heading out, "Lock him down and double the cuffs. I want two internal cameras on him, with no uplink to anything outside the Silverlight. If he sneezes too loudly, record it."
[Grudging Enthusiasm: With pleasure.]
"Let's go," Vila pushed away from the bulkhead and rolled her shoulders. "Field trip!"
"Field trip," I repeated while I resisted the urge to touch my saber through the pouch at my belt. "We go quiet and casual, so don't rush... If he has partners, they may be droids and not human.
In the end, we left him there, cuffed, alone with HK. I just hoped that when we come back, the old droid didn't go off on a torture subroutine or something... Drawing my focus from that possibility, I was stretching out towards the Force in all, wanting to sense the mood within the system itself. In the corridor, the station felt different from how it had hours ago. The fear was still there, yes, thick and constantly buzzing, but somewhere beneath it a new current had started to rise. That one was... not panic, more like a mix of urgency and preparation. If I had to guess, it was coming from the commanders and leading figures, realizing what we already knew: the first attack was only a probing one, and they were also expecting a second wave.
"Is this the deck?" Vila asked as we stepped out of the elevator, and I looked down at the property card in my palm.
"Deck Fourteen," I nodded, leading the way, "Bay-side corridor, number seven-three-eight. It should be here..."
"Anything else you can feel?" she asked, unceremoniously pulling out her sabers, keeping them in hand but not yet activating them.
"I am trying to read the Force," I muttered, sometimes my eyes twitching, "But nothing so far. Still, if he has droids, I don't think I would have any warning signs until we are already under fire."
As we reached the doors, two station guards rolled past us with a crate between them, one complaining about the sudden call-up for double shifts, the other already dead-eyed, barely awake. Maybe it was why neither looked twice at us... This doesn't bode well for them at all.
"At least then something happens on the surface and not in this underground, veiled nonsense..." She moaned, rolling her eyes, "I think I just realized I hate everything to do with infiltration and being sneaky. I prefer the face-to-face, head-on, one-on-one approach, above board! Honest, even if it is about attacking someone. This? Bah... Annoying!"
"Haaah... You know what?" I looked at her with a lopsided smile, "I agree." I nodded while turning towards the narrow durasteel door before us, watching the recessed number plate scuffed and scratched. We were at the right place.
"Now what? You going to knock?" she asked, her sabers in hand.
"Not exactly," I muttered, and I held up the property card, "We have the key." But... when I used it, nothing happened. "Oh..." I stood there, looking like a stupid kid.
"Heh!" She giggled as she leaned close, pressed her palm to the wall beside the frame, and closed her eyes, searching. I felt as the Force stirred around her fingertips, sinking into the conduits, something I would be unable to do now... I even felt a bit jealous, but I quickly discarded that feeling.
"Lock's fried..." She muttered, "We can't open this the regular way. Good thing we are not regulars!" She continued, grinning, using the force to move the mechanisms hidden in the wall, forcing the door to slide open.
What greeted us inside was the unmistakable echo of droids activating, as we saw flashes of red eyes igniting in the pitch black darkness, and then their blasters snapped up to us, firing similarly crimson shots. In the light of their weapons, I could see their plating was matte grey, scarred, shoulders broad enough to look like someone had grafted a stormtrooper's armor onto a leaner skeleton frame. Well... It was precisely what they did.
As I watched, I remained calm and fearless, because Vila was already moving. Her sabers snapped alive in a burst of orange light, meeting the red bolts coming towards us. The moment they clashed and bounced off her lightsabers, the bolts whipped back along perfect return arcs, slamming into the droids' visors in two consecutive, yellow flashes. Both dropped where they stood, becoming smoking wrecks, filling the room with the acrid stink of burned metal as they kept smoking, their internal systems fried.
The entire exchange had taken less than two seconds. Stepping in, Vila deactivated her blades with a flourish, smirking back at me.
"See? This is why sneaking is boring. Kicking in doors is much more fun."
"Others wouldn't even have had the chance to live," I muttered as I stepped past her, suppressing a smile, and scanned the cabin.
It was sparse, with only a bunkbed, a table covered in generic rations wrappers, and a closet containing a set of clothes. But as I looked, the Force tugged at me, guiding my eyes. It was a gentle pull, directing my attention to the desk at the far corner, next to the droid corpses. I moved my hand slowly, letting the Force shape the decision for me, until my fingers closed around a thin, flat object hidden beneath a folded sheet.
"What is it?" Vila asked, looking at me.
"Hm... A mobile computer. Military issue..." I said this because I saw things like this back home. "Intelligence agencies used it in Imperial times..."
Opening it, its screen flickered red with a locked-down security seal the moment I touched it. Whatever was inside, he hadn't wanted anyone to see... logical.
"This could be it," I said, showing it to Vila. "If the backdoor can be closed, there may be a key hidden on here; we just need to bring this to HK and do it."
"Can HK crack it?" she asked.
"He took over deactivated droids when I first met him," I grunted, "If anyone can, it's him."
For a fleeting moment, I felt a spark of relief, finally having something we could actually use. And, as if on cue... the sirens began wailing.
In a snap, the corridor outside lit crimson as klaxons blared through the station, and Vila and I both froze, staring at each other before rushing to the window slit above the bunk.
"We're late," I said, tightening my grip on the datapad. "The second wave is already here..."