Turel Sorenn wasn’t quite sure what to make of the sight before him. By now he knew better than to expect the Nerve Center of the Sentinel Network to look like a military command post, but this? This was weird. Quaestor Mako Henymory, SeNet’s new head of operations, was seated comfortably in a cushioned chair, puffing on a cigarette and watching the three women arrayed before him. His bodyguard, Lilly, sat at a console on the other side of the room, seemingly oblivious to the two holograms in animated conversation in the center of the room.
“You met Sorenn in prison?” one asked, barely suppressing a laugh. “How am I not surprised?” Even with the blue color shift of the hologram, Turel recognized her as the silver-haired woman they’d pulled out of an Imperial sleeper ship a few months earlier. Archenksova, he thought she was called. She had never looked like one of the Galactic Empire’s thugs to him, but she certainly seemed to be in her element gossiping over tea.
“I’d been in for months, tortured, barely sleeping or eating anything, but even still the first thing he did is make a pass at me.” The other woman was a Mirialan, her normally vibrant purple hair and gilded skin washed out by the transmission. Zoso Quinn was built like a jungle cat, lithe, muscular, and confident. Turel had to agree that she looked much better now than she had those years ago at Purity Rock.
“Mako, what’s going on?” the Proconsul asked with a note of concern in his voice.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Henymory replied. “Lilly, cut the audio for a minute.” The projected figures laughed together in eerie silence. “This is my newest project. I figured you’d get a kick out of it.”
Turel shot a worried glance over to Lilly. “And you’re ok with this?” The Mandalorian shrugged, still more focused on her console than the people in front of her.
“It keeps him busy.”
“I mean, I really can’t fault your taste, Mako, but this is a bit creepy.”
Mako chuckled. “It’s nothing prurient, Turel. You see, I ordered Captain Archenksova to bring your friend Lt. Colonel Quinn to us for interrogation regarding her role in the SeNet uprising.”
“That’s absurd. I’ve vouched for Zoso myself and you know it,” Sorenn replied with a scowl. “We can’t afford to drive good people off in some ridicul-”
“But!” the other man cut him off, pointing with his cigarette. The red light of the flame stood in stark contrast to the blue glows of the hologram. “I have also instructed Lt. Colonel Quinn to meet with the traitor Archenksova and return with a full report of their conversation.”
“Why? What’s your game?”
Mako took a long drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaled as he tapped away the ashes at the other end. After a suitably dramatic pause, he answered. “Files and dossiers are a good start, but we put our lives in the Sentinel Network’s hands. You ought to appreciate that more than most.” The Quaestor leaned forward to smother out the remnant of his smoke. “I need to know exactly what these women are capable of, and how far they’ll go to follow orders.”
“I don’t like it, Mako. This is gonna end in blood.”
“We planned for that, Turel,” Lilly piped up from her place at the terminal. “Both of them are under strict orders not to kill the other target, and to keep the fightin’ out of sight of the crowds. But the best part,” she said, tapping in a command to computer system, “is that we get to watch!” With a flourish, dozens of small screens appeared on the nearby wall, showing scenes from all over the Visulu Marketplace and beyond.
Quinn was getting tired of this. Captain Archenksova - no, she insisted on being addressed as Alethia - was pleasant enough company, but this was looking to be a waste of time. She didn’t know how SeNet had expected this conversation to go, but Zoso doubted she had been sent to report on girl talk about the Proconsul. Besides, the lighting in this room was some sort of jarring fluorescent and it was giving her a headache. At least an attendant had come in with more tea; the stuff didn’t seem to be doing much to keep her hydrated. After two cups, Zoso was thirstier than she’d been when she walked in.
“Are you alright, Lt. Colonel?” Alethia was leaning in slightly, showing a look of concern that could have been painted on her face by a master artist. Judging by her make-up, it probably had been.
“I’m fine, Captain. But I can’t help but feel you didn’t come all to way to Menat Ombo just to make a new friend.”
Alethia put a hand to her chest, gasping in mock indignation. “Can’t two girls in the same line of work chat without it being some sort of setup?” Quinn answered with an expressionless stare. “You’re right,” Alethia sighed, “Of course not. You’re familiar with the recent unpleasantness in SeNet?”
Zoso nodded. Mako Henymory had barely set foot on New Tython before a dozen Sentinels had been executed by Ooroo for supposedly plotting to kill Turel and his new Quaestor. “What about it?”
“Some of us in Ooroo have some lingering questions about that,” Archenksova said. She was leaning back in her seat now, her arms folded over crossed legs as she eyed Quinn with a clinical stare. “We expect you to come answer them for us.”
Zoso squinted into the lights, banishing the pounding of her head from her consciousness through sheer force of will. “I don’t think you have the authority to do that, Miss Archenksova.”
“Perhaps we do. Perhaps not. Regardless, you will be coming with me.” Alethia was leaning forward now, hands out of sight and feet planted firmly on the floor.
“I don’t think so.” Zoso said it defiantly, but she knocked the chair out from under herself as she stood up and had to grab hold of the table to avoid falling to the floor with it. Frack, she thought. That harpy drugged the tea.
“I was beginning to wonder if it was having any effect at all,” Alethia said, sliding one hand onto the tabletop. A small hypo danced between her fingers. “The amount you’ve had should be enough to drop a ronto. You’re a tough one, Zoso, but it will bring you down.” She held up the hypo between two manicured fingers, the crimson of her nails contrasting against the pale blue liquid within the needle. “This is what’s going to save you. I’ll give you the injection as soon as you’re in cuffs. It’ll hurt less if you submit now, but I don’t mind waiting until you’re in convulsions on the floor.”
The Mirialan kept her expression neutral even as her vision began to blur. “I’m going to enjoy this, you skinny witch.” Thrusting out her arms, Zoso flipped the table onto the Human woman, sending the porcelain tea set crashing to the floor. She reached out for the hypo on the floor, but the effects of the poison left her fumbling. Just as she was getting a grip on the needle, Alethia’s knee slammed into her side and Quinn went down.
“I don’t understand why everyone always insists on making it hard on themselves,” Archenksova said, half to herself. “Guilty conscience, maybe?” She lashed out with a quick kick to Quinn’s jaw, drawing a grunt from the Mirialan. “This is the first time I’ve worn this blouse, and you almost spilled tea on it. Unacceptable.”
Quinn sucked in as much air as she could. The poison was disrupting her balance and her vision, but Zoso knew her skills. She was a deadly opponent, even blind and standing on one foot. And she’d been kicked harder by green KUDF recruits trying to flirt with her. All you need to do, she reminded herself, is buy some time.
“Sorry,” Zoso grunted. “Next time I’ll throw it in your pretty little face.” Quinn closed her eyes and relied on years of training and muscle memory, swinging her arm under the kick that she knew would be incoming. As Alethia’s foot tapped her jaw again, Quinn ripped the Human’s other foot out from under her. Gritting her teeth as she hardened her resolve, the veteran soldier managed to get her feet back underneath herself. Even in this state, she was quick enough to get a grip on Alethia’s arm and shirt collar before the other woman managed to recover her footing. Twisting her entire body for leverage, Quinn hurled Alethia through the air before collapsing herself. The Human bounced off of the transparisteel window and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.
Realizing she didn’t have a second to spare, Zoso fumbled for the hypo. She staggered to her feet, and by the time Alethia had picked herself up, her Mirialan prey had escaped into the corridor.
“We can follow them through half the city,” Lilly said with pride.
“Huh. Well, I guess there’s only two things to say to that. First, do not let A’lora find out you’ve done this.”
“Naturally. What’s the other?”
“20 credits on Zoso Quinn making it here first.” Turel stopped trying to suppress his roguish grin.
Mako answered with a smirk of his own. “You’re on.”
