18: Fleeing
CORUSCANT
THE OFFICES OF THE GREATER ASSOCIATES OF NASPESCHI’A
The system was called Snipe, and it utilized an advanced data-mining software to sift through HoloNet traffic for key terms, phrases that were considered to be taboo, anti-Imperialistic, or perhaps the names of covert operatives currently working undercover. Snipe had been developed by the Imperial Intelligence Service, as a means to gain complete knowledge of what people across the galaxy were talking about. It allowed IIS to sift through countless communications and know if any of the Empire’s citizens were plotting against it.
That’s why, when the name Greater Associates of Naspeschi’a popped up on Snipe, the female intelligence officer seated at her computer on the third floor of the building, where Snipe’s giant droid-brain computer was housed, sat up quickly and spoke into her headset.
“All right, I’ve got a hit on Snipe,” she called to her supervisor. “Someone is talking about the Greater Associates of Naspeschi’a. Us.”
“That shouldn’t be of concern,” her supervisor said, walking by her workstation. “We have a front company that does legitimate business across the Core.”
“It wouldn’t normally be suspicious, sir, but I’ve seen the name pop up two…now three times from a HoloNet somewhere in the Outer Rim.”
Now her supervisor stopped, and he leaned over her shoulder to look at her computer screen. “That is unusual. We have no business partners out there. Who would be talking about us that much?”
“Not sure, sir.”
“Can you trace it?”
“Sir, the call was being purposely bounced around from one proxy server to the next, all across the Outer and Mid Rim—from Toydaria to Nal Hutta to Ryloth. The Star Destroyer Impaler happened to pick it up.”
Her supervisor stood up, shoulders squared, his brow furrowed with worry. “Send it up to Director Abaca. Makes sure he knows about this. We may be exposed.”
* * *
When Abaca read the report, he knew he was finished. The fact that someone was talking about the Kingdom’s front company way out in the Outer Rim told him all he needed to know. Someone had leaked.
The Star Destroyer Impaler had merely intercepted the message from what was probably a Rebel cell out near Bespin. The Impaler’s intelligence experts had merely filed the intercept away, along with all other communications logged in and out of Cloud City—but they had not known the significance of the reference to the Greater Associates of Naspeschi’a. Indeed, few people in IIS even knew of the front company that certain of its departments shared here in the building.
Someone told the Rebels about us, Abaca thought. The Kingdom’s director stood from his seat and paced. He gritted his teeth and fumed. If Zumter had been in front of him in that moment, he would have pulled a blaster out and shot him dead. This was all his fault.
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But then, Abaca could not absolve himself of all guilt. When Zumter brought him this moneymaking scheme he could have said no. But his greed got the better of him. His greed and his fear that the Faith-index was right, and that the Empire would fall. If that happened, Abaca and his family would need to have the means of changing identities and starting a new life, or else be tried as war criminals by whatever government the Rebel Alliance installed across the galaxy.
I should have had more faith in the Emperor. I should never have given in to fear.
Abaca knew what had to happen next. He tapped a button on his desk, activated the comm to the droid outside his office. “Cue-ex, please come in here.”
QX-14, an elite protocol droid built by and for the Empire, came walking in on its tall, gleaming ebony stilts. “Yes, Director?” it said.
“Initiate Order Ninety-nine.”
Neither QX-14’s countenance nor its posture betrayed the slightest thing. “Of course, Director. After I’ve erased all our databases and destroyed your computer, ought I take your new U-140 speeder to go by your family’s house and pick up your wife and children?”
“Yes, please. But I won’t be meeting you at the landing platform. Take the ship and get off-world within the hour.”
“Yes, sir. And, if I may be so bold as to ask, sir, where will you be going?”
“I have other business to attend to,” Abaca said.
Once the droid was gone, he called on a secured channel to the Impaler and asked to speak directly and privately with the commander of the ship. Admiral Kollen, whom Abaca had met many years ago at an Imperial Officer’s Ball, materialized in holographic form. “Admiral,” he said. “So good to see you. You’re looking healthy.”
“Director Abaca. What a surprise. To what do I owe this call?”
“I have received time-sensitive intel and I need your assistance. I cannot tell you what the intel is, I only need you to act.”
Kollen winced. Shrugged. “I will help in any way that I can.”
“I am sending you the profiles of two individuals. Two targets. You will activate ‘cinch-bag protocols,’ do you understand? And you will not ask questions, despite the fact that you will know one of the individuals that needs to be neutralized.”
Abaca sent the profiles of both Hej Zumter and Ageless Void, and he watched as the admiral’s expression changed to overtly dour. “Zumter? But he was just here. Here, on my ship. I’m sure he’s down on Cloud City now as we speak.”
“I’m sure of it, too, Admiral. Are you near Bespin?”
“We are currently patrolling the out-system area, and we are investigating anomalous radio signals from satellites we believe the Rebels hid out here…but yes, I could return there within the day if need be.”
“Do it. And you understand, Admiral, this is ‘cinch-bag protocol.’ Are we clear?”
Kollen nodded slowly, pulling himself out of his shock. “Yes, Director. I understand. Has he…betrayed us?”
“In more ways than you can ever know.”
“And…this Zabrak?” Kollen was referring to the holographic likeness of Ageless Void that had been sent to him.
“If you see him, treat him the same as Zumter. They may be coming from the direction of Hoth, where I’m sure you know some Rebels have recently engaged our people. That means Zumter and the Zabrak may have switched sides. It is unclear.”
“Understood, Director.”
“Good. Farewell, Kollen.”
Abaca signed off. Some might call it petty, especially since it served no purpose to kill either of them at this point, except maybe to delay the investigation by eradicating anyone that could later be captured and tell the tale of Abaca’s corruption. At this point, there was so much exposure it was sure to all come out eventually, but killing Ageless and Zumter could give him a head start.
He stood there a moment, composing himself. Then he reached into the top drawer of his desk and withdrew the DL-26 blaster pistol and tucked it inside his vest. Director Abaca grabbed his coat and walked to the door. He took one last look at his office and allowed himself a moment to mourn everything he had given up for Zumter’s blasted scheme. Then he turned and never looked back.
If he hurried, he could make it to his lockbox he kept at a nearby bank, one with false-ID passports, several cases of credits, and the contact information of a Hutt on Tatooine that owed him a serious favor.