The Knight, Death, and the Devil

Chapter 18: Too Close For Comfort

"We have to tell someone!" Torin gestured at the holographic image of Darth Malgus projected above the ship's command console. "The Empire, or even the Republic—"

Vathamma, who leaned over the other side of the console, hung her head and sighed. "There's no one we can tell."

"Can't you just fire off an anonymous message?" Maliss said, seated in the lounge booth with one foot propped up on the cushioned bench. "Send them a copy of all the data?"

"It's simply too outlandish to be believed. I doubt it would make it past whatever gatekeepers forward these matters to the Watchers in Imperial Intelligence." the Sith said. "Maybe if I brought it to them publically, my name and status would carry some weight..."

"But then they'd know you're alive," Torin said, finishing her thought. "And you'd be hunted down for killing Darth Dominus." Both Sith glanced at Maliss, who winced and looked aside guiltily. "What about finding where they're building the stealth fighters? Even if we can't sabotage the operation ourselves, that'd be something substantial to forward to Imperial Intelligence."

Vathamma used the console and the image of Darth Malgus disappeared, replaced by a galactic map with ten or so red dots scattered around Imperial space. "There's nothing in here about where the shipyards are," she said with a frustrated sigh. "There's plenty of information on the locations for supply pickups made by his ships, but nothing about where they actually go."

"Can we follow one of Lord Andar's supply ships?" Torin said.

His Master shook her head. "These exchanges happen in dead space. One ship releases a modular package, and Lord Andar's haulers pick it up. Even if we could someone stow aboard the hauler, we would be jumping into Gods only know what on the other end." No one said a word, and they stared in silence at the hologram.

"Then, there's this." Vathamma pulled up a file listing beside the map. "An encrypted database."

Torin raised an eyebrow curiously. "The rest of it wasn't encrypted, but this was?"

"It's not their encryption," the Sith said. "It's Republic in origin, and over three centuries old. Judging by the server logs we received with the data dump, Lord Andar's ship was dedicating a massive amount of computing power to cracking the file."

"Then it must be something useful," Torin said.

"Perhaps it is." The Sith woman closed the file listing. "But if they couldn't access it, we certainly won't be able to."

He leaned over the projector, staring at the galactic map flickering in front of him. They'd gone to such great lengths to recover the information Maliss had collected, but now they couldn't do anything with it. Through the hologram he saw his Master leave the console and walk towards one of the adjoining halls.

"Where are you going?" Torin called after her.

"I'm tired," she replied. "I need to rest... and think."

As he turned back to the console he saw that the map was gone, and in its place was the listing of files and folders they had sorted through earlier. Nomi had taken the Sith's place at the computer, and was busy looking through the vast collection of data.

"What are you doing?" Torin said, circling around the console.

Her fingers were a blur, and her eyes snapped up from keyboard to holographic display every few seconds. "I am searching for any clues to what happened to my sister," she said. "She may have left me a message, hidden somewhere."

The corners of his mouth turned down as he watched the Togruta work intently. He nearly told her it was hopeless, that a slave wouldn't have any opportunities to leave behind messages—if she were even still alive.