The outside stairs led them up to the roof of a four-storey building complex, where a garden awaited them. There was well-tended grass and lovely little trees whose flowers had closed as the sun went down. Perhaps it was someone’s attempt to keep property prices up, in spite of the air traffic.

There across a fairly wide street were the headquarters for Fass Shipping. It was indeed a rather small business, as interstellar shipping went. Saketa might easily have assumed that it was strictly local.

Still, it was big enough. They couldn’t just stroll in and amble about. The main building was three storeys tall and divided into three wings, and there was a sizable yard, lined by a wall. And parked within it were three civilian freighters. They were the kind that could get away with only a two-person crew, but could also smuggle a fair amount of materials or even people, given a bit of cleverness.

Saketa sensed nothing unusual, but that was hardly surprising. If the Exile did have some connection to Fass Shipping, then he was still hardly likely to be staying there.

“There are security cameras,” Piter, or rather Fredrak, told Saketa. “But they don’t point outwards, because of local privacy laws. People like this tend to follow laws that they don’t specifically need to break. No need to let a minor issue clue the police in on more important crimes.”

“So the yard is watched?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Fredrak put on a pair of goggles with blue lenses.

“But I found blind spots the last time I was here. I do get to play with some expensive toys.”

“Do you know anything about the interior?”

“No.”

He tapped the side of his goggles, and Saketa assumed he was cycling through modes.

“The walls are shielded. At least against the kinds of things you can carry in your pocket. I can tell you that every door, every window, is also hardened against anything a regular burglar is going to be carrying around. A commando team with breaching charges could get in there, but, well, we are trying to be subtle.”

“And then there are the guns,” Ayna said.

“Yes,” Fredrak said. “Then there are the guns.”

Saketa didn’t have vision devices, or a Dwyyk’s natural eyesight, but the two figures lazily strolling about the yard were clearly holding something.

“Guns are very tightly controlled around here, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Fredrak went on. “Private citizens aren’t allowed to own anything that fires plasma, but some private companies are, provided they pay a yearly fee and never take them off company grounds. And we can expect more of them inside.”

Saketa wasn’t worried about those two clearly bored guards. With a well-executed Shift she would be able to knock down and disarm one while the other didn’t have a line of sight, and then deal with him too. But there were the cameras, and the possibility that they were wearing comm equipment or biomonitors or something else. It would all become a terrible mess, that would probably summon the police.

“And what exactly are you hoping to find in there?” she asked.

“Ideally Velda Tyroya herself, alone and unguarded,” Fredrak told her. “Or access to her ship, and its no-doubt interesting logs. But we have options. Employee records, a loose-lipped coworker, a private office, security footage with audio… anything that can tell us how to find her, OR tell us something about what she’s been up to. If you believe nothing else I say, believe this: One can set up the most expensive and impressive ring of defences imaginable, but in the end they are managed by mere human beings. And the more of them there are, the better the chances of finding a weak spot.”

Ayna grinned.

“So what is your plan?” Saketa asked.

“Their business hours ended almost exactly one hour ago,” Fredrak said. “Because I timed this quite well, if I do say so myself. And most of the low-level employees leave an hour after closing. They carry key fobs that open a couple of the doors… but only from the inside. More important people have all-purpose fobs, but they leave in vehicles, and/or with an escort. If all else failed I had hoped to try to get a tracker on one of the vehicles, but… well… I understand walls aren’t much of a deterrent to you, are they?”

“They are not,” Saketa admitted. “If I have a general idea of where I am going. So you want me to Shift inside and open a door for you?”

“So Shift is the term? Yes. Yes I do.”

“Do you have a fob?”

“Not yet.”

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Already there were employees drifting out of the building. Two were currently ambling away in the distance, from some entry the three of them didn’t have an angle on, and three more were heading for the gate facing the street below.

“Ayna, go see what you can do about that.”

“See?”

The Dwyyk unwrapped the scarf from around her neck with a theatrical flourish, then wrapped it around her head until all that extreme white no longer stood out against the darkness.

“I know what I can do,” she said. “And so do you. I’ll be right back.”

She hopped off the roof’s edge and down to the stairs they’d just ascended. There was no sound at all.

“So we wait?” Saketa said.

“We wait.”

Fredrak sat down with his back up against one of the sturdier trees. After a few seconds Saketa sat down as well and crossed her legs.

The din of city life had died down to some degree as the evening progressed. And now that conversation and their own footsteps were out of the picture as well Saketa could pick up the distant noise of battle. There were no explosions, or war vehicles. Just voices. It sounded like a great, big melee.

“Sounds like the Tanga warriors are busy tonight,” Fredrak commented as Saketa looked in the direction of the noise. “Probably has to do with that blast last night.”

“What exactly are they?” Saketa asked. She couldn’t work up much curiosity, but at least it was conversation.

“An old, old tradition of Yvenna, operating on old codes of behaviour. They control certain businesses, guard their neighbourhoods, and the like. They are not quite gangs, not quite a militia, not quite a club. I wouldn’t say they fit neatly into any typical category.”

“All societies have something that doesn’t,” Saketa said.

“Indeed they do!” Fredrak said. “It is a wonderfully colourful galaxy that we live in. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Is that why you work as an agent?” she asked. “To see it?”

“I could see it without facing so much danger,” he replied. “I do this because I believe.”

“In what?”

“In the Oath of a Brighter Future. In the ideals the Federation was built on. In a galactic order built on human rights. All of those things.”

“Those are fine things,” Saketa said. “Though all that feels a bit strange coming from a black ops operative.”

“Mm.”

Fredrak’s face took on a thoughtful look.

“I know a fellow who likes to speak of winds. Big winds. It’s what he calls the things that move the galaxy. Those huge forces, wars, economics, interstellar politics that blow individuals about like leaves. It’s a decent enough comparison, but I like to think of it all as an enormous machine, with big parts but also near-infinite small parts, all doing their little bit to keep the machine running. And a small part, in the right place, at the right time, can be very important indeed. A lot may hinge on something tiny. Sometimes that is me, and people like me. Working deep inside, unseen in the darkness, but doing our part in the whole. I consider it a privilege.”

Saketa looked to the east. The docking yards stood out against the skyline as the city’s dominant feature.

“It is interesting you should say that,” she commented. “I have not kept up with galactic news, as such, but the war does filter into everyone’s life at this point. Supposedly, the Alliance Sixth Fleet has been tied up in the Finngala Sector for some time. If the fighting there were to end, then supposedly they would have the best route to the Authority’s stronghold on Ciinto Res. And the logical place for them to stop to recharge their leap reactors would then be right here.”

“War is the time for rumours,” Fredrak said, and Saketa had to give him credit: If he was putting on a show of ignorance, then he was doing it extremely well.

“War is also the time for misdirection, and stretched resources,” she said. “So a clever or desperate long-term strategist might make a gamble and disguise their intent by placing only a single ship to guard an important spot.”

“Resources are stretched,” Fredrak replied. “Of course they are. And I can see how you might reach a conclusion like that. But I wouldn’t be able to comment on a thing like that, even if I knew anything. And confirming that you’re wrong would be a different sort of blunder.”

He remained entirely casual and unreadable. But of course that was a big part of his job.

“Fair enough,” Saketa said. “But can you comment on Ciinto Res itself?”

He looked away.

“Comment? Well, all the relevant facts are public knowledge. It’s probably the most potent manufacturing hub on the Nearer Fringe, and Commander Treko took it early. It’s no secret that Ciinto Res is keeping his fleet going. Now it has cannons on top of cannons, pointed skyward, a thoroughly cowed population, a garrison of millions upon millions, and factories spewing out war materials every second of every day. And yes: Taking the planet would break the spine of the Authority war effort. But the attempt would be a big gamble. And if you think I know any more than that, perhaps you overestimate the importance of a single FedCom agent.”

“Perhaps.”

They settled into a brief silence. It was Fredrak who broke it.

“Oh, you should take this,” Fredrak said, and reached into his own little bag.

He handed her a plain-looking little comm.

“The chassis is from a cheap, locally-made comm that I gutted. No one will look at it twice. But the interior is from back home.”

“More expensive toys?” she asked.

“You know it. I left a small satellite in orbit when I arrived. Ayna and I each have our own. This way we can talk without anyone listening in.”

“Good. This is handy.”

The comm went into her belt.

“They also contain a little extra,” he went on. “Keep that comm turned on, and it’ll mess with cameras that are pointed at you. They won’t detect you, and the effect will show up on the feed as minor glitches. Just don’t push your luck by staying out in the open and we should be fine.”

Neither of them heard Ayna until the girl announced herself with a whistle.

“Got it,” she said proudly, and dangled a fob between two fingers. “And the guy’s none the wiser.”

“He will be, eventually,” Fredrak pointed out. “Perhaps tomorrow, when he arrives for work. Or perhaps much sooner. Let’s err on the side of caution and get going right away.”