"That's odd. Being a dumbass has worked so far. What changed?"
Natia did, in fact, have a spare outfit. An entire spare armored bodysuit, in fact. Which turned out to be a two-piece affair – a top and a bottom – but one which, when properly fitted, managed to cleverly disguise any seams. When improperly fitted or worn by someone the outfit had not been tailored for, however, that little fact became very obvious.
"Quit squirming," I grumbled as I adjusted the top for the umpteenth time in an attempt to make it sit right only for the Little Jedi to shift minutely and ruin my efforts. Again.
"This damn thing's too tight around the shoulders," she complained. "And my arms. And neck. Can't you at least make a small cut at the back so it doesn't cut off the blood flow to my brain?"
I chose not to mention the fact that it was too loose around the front.
"That will only introduce weakness in the material, Lia," I warned. "If we do that, then the next time you roll your shoulders you might just blow out the back."
"And unlike your dear Lord Nestor, she doesn't have the luxury of a Sith Lord's expense account," Loa, the tall Sith, pointed out with a tone that bordered on smug, her elbows propped up on the table. No doubt she was trying to elicit some sort of reaction. Judging by the irritation I could feel radiating from the Little Jedi's frame, the Sith was succeeding.
"Oh, I'm certain Nestor would replace it if I asked him," Natia said, lounging comfortably on one of the couches that lined what had become the briefing room. "But getting the replacement would take ages. And I expect that suit to be cleaned when you're done with it."
"I will make sure to get all the Sith blood out of it," the Little Jedi deadpanned.
Meanwhile, I was forced to go for Plan D of making this outfit fit reasonably well and not look like an obvious disguise. Grabbing the excess fabric, I gently tugged and pulled until I had it gathered at her back, and proceeded to fold it up. The next step would have involved tucking into the trousers, but that felt… improper.
Then again, the Little Jedi had gotten handsy with me before. Sure, that had been first aid and been startingly painful and uncomfortable until the imperial medics had gotten the gauze out of my back, and- and I stopped thinking and just went ahead and tucked it.
Stepping back, I admired my handiwork.
From the front, it looked almost acceptable, as long as the Little Jedi did not move her shoulders too much. From the back, of course, it looked like an obvious bodge. But I was certain I could find a workaround…
"Natia," I addressed the other short person in the room. She deigned to look at me, and I took that as a sign to proceed. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare set of robes on hand, would you?"
"Why would I have any robes at hand?" she asked, making me pause. Come to think of it, why would Natia have a cloak? I had never seen her wear anything other than one of these damned bodysuits.
Stepping away from the Little Jedi, I considered my options. Her own cloak was a non-starter, being the entirely wrong color. And nobody else in my entourage wore cloaks. What did that leave? Making sure nobody saw the Little Jedi from behind? My coat?
Wait a minute, my coat!
Doffing the black garment, I reversed the sleeves so they hung inside the body of the coat. Yes, it would wrinkle the poor thing, but that was fixable once Lord Sadic was handled. From there, I draped it around the Little Jedi.
As expected, what on a person my size was a snazzy suit jacket became a cloak reaching almost to the knees on the Little Jedi. It… would do. As long as it didn't flap around too much.
As soon as I retrieved a spare coat from the stash I kept in the hideout, of course. I could hardly go on a mission half-dressed, now, could I?
"Finally ready?" the buff apprentice asked, lounging in a chair with his feet on the table. Further back at the table, closest to the furthest wall, Levin was fiddling with the projector. No doubt he was setting up the communications net. Whereas I would have needed an instruction manual, he seemed to be managing just fine on his own.
"I thought about touching up my hair, but I suppose I can go out like this," I said, my voice heavy with sarcasm. "Levin, how's the progress on the comms?"
"They're all hooked up," he said, eyes focused on the windows of data hovering above the table. "Have been for a while."
Huh.
"No sense waiting around," Natia declared, easily springing to her feet. "How're we getting to the outpost?"
"We'll be borrowing an airspeeder from my associates," I said.
"Your gangsters," the Little Jedi said. No doubt she meant it as a correction.
"Whatever their alleged crimes, our relationship is professional," I retorted. "I do business with them, but I do not command them."
"That would be a lot more convincing if we were not standing in a penthouse apartment guarded by Nikto gangsters in the heart of Nikto territory," she commented.
"Bah, enough talk," Natia cut in. "Let's grab a speeder and get out there."
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Nikto gang had a motor pool in their hideout. I should not have been surprised, really; Goods and products had to be moved, as did the upper leadership. And what kind of self-respecting crime lord took public transit?
Not the Boss Kajain'sa, that's who.
A few minutes later, we had all piled into a family-sized airspeeder. Personally, I doubted it had been used for any kind of family activity beyond that of a crime family. Still, it was plenty spacious, the seats were comfortable, and I had a lovely view of the seedier parts of Nar Shaddaa as Natia brought us into the Duros Sector.
Apparently, she had seen me fly.
She had been… unimpressed, to say the least.
"Quite sulking," she ordered. "Some of us want to get to the outpost this week."
"He- he's not that bad, is he?" Loa asked.
"No," the Little Jedi said, her tone flat. Good, at least someone in here was still sane and reasonable. "He's worse."
"I prefer the term 'careful', but I suppose not everyone is cognizant of the dangers of irresponsible piloting," I mused.
"That's the kind of thinking that got my uncle shot down in the war," the buff apprentice put in. I really needed to get around to learning his name, but it was way too late to ask. He was an ally now, and there were only two allies I'd dare be rude to. If only because they were in too deep to leave me now.
Fortunately, the skies weren't too clogged with traffic, so we made it to the Duros Sector in good time. According to the information that Levin was feeding us, the intelligence outpost was on the outskirts of the sector along a narrow street that saw regular, if sparse, use.
One quick landing and a quick walk later, my team strode into the intelligence outpost as though we belonged there. Technically, three-quarters of us had every possible right to be there, being Sith. The final quarter I could always claim as my apprentice, but that was secondary. As long as you looked like you belonged, you could go wherever you wanted.
Provided there were no security checkpoints.
Or keycard readers.
Naturally, our merry band strolled in through the main entrance without giving the pair of imperial soldiers a second glance.
Almost immediately, four different commlinks squealed as their transmission was unceremoniously jammed. I turned mine off a heartbeat later, with my allies following suit. The Little Jedi managed to get hers off first, but I trusted she did not let that smugness show on her face.
Still, the sudden disturbance earned the attention of a uniformed woman. She stood at a terminal at the rear of a large square chamber. Off to the side was a large passageway leading to another chamber, so that was where I went. She raised an eyebrow at the disturbance, but I paid her no mind. When she directed un into the adjoining chamber without so much as a word, I paid her a lot more mind.
Of course, that raised eyebrow alone should have been a warning.
"Ah, Lord Nestor, we have been expecting you!" an aging man seated behind a desk in an otherwise empty chamber greeted me. He did not rise from his seat, however. That alone would have been a bit of a faux pas. Combined with his words and his subordinate's suspicion? "Come, come, no doubt you have questions."
That was the second warning.
Personally, I doubted there would be a third.
"Then I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage," I said, an easy if artificial smile coloring my words.
The aging man, clad in the uniform of a senior member of Imperial Intelligence, gave an equally artificial smile, but did not so much as shift in his seat.
And that was roughly when I felt something was very wrong. Like being in this entire outpost was a very bad idea. Like I should be somewhere – anywhere – else.
The same way I had felt aboard that pirate freighter, just before entering the bridge.
Just before I had almost wandered head-first into a wall of blasters.
"TRAP!" Came a bellowed warning from behind me. "EVERYBODY BACK!"
I reached for my lightsaber, but my hand never even made it that far before what felt like a wall of pure force slammed into me and turned my front into a giant bruise. Everything went white for a moment, and I felt myself go flying before landing in a heap somewhere near the middle of the room. There was some muffled shouting, but any details were drowned out by a nearly deafening ringing in my ears.
Vision had not yet begun returning to me when I felt myself moving again.
Not of my own volition.
One moment I was on the ground, the next I was in the air, wondering which way was up.
Yeah, I guess it had been a trap.
...
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