It was all going perfectly. Ban had collapsed on schedule, his colleagues had brought him up to the medical bay, assisted by Cirean, and Lokin had ensured that he would be immobilised and unconscious for at least ten hours. He'd rigged the biosensors to show various electrolyte abnormalities causing heart rhythm problems, just in case any of Ban's co-workers were medically qualified. Whether they were or not, they'd been convinced by Lokin's genuine professionalism and left, believing that Ban was in good hands.

Twelve had accessed the escape pod circuits from engineering and set up all the ones nearest the medical bay as required. But as he was about to head up to rendezvous with the others, the ship's alarm sounded. Almost immediately there were several loud explosions and a shuddering throughout the ship as it was hit by missile fire.

The shields went up, but too late. Explosions continued, with the shrieking sound of tearing metal. The Captain's voice came over the intercom, warning everyone that the ship was under attack by two Republic cruisers and they were about to be boarded by Republic troops.

Lokin and Cirean looked at each other. "Damn the SIS", muttered Lokin. "Can't do anything with finesse, just fly in with full military invasion protocols, all guns blazing. Do they actually want this defector alive?"

Cirean's face was grim. "Maybe it's time to ensure that he isn't."

Lokin nodded. "But we'll leave it a few minutes. Twelve should be here shortly." As he said that, their implanted comlinks buzzed and Twelve said quietly, "Stay put, I'm on my way."

Lokin pondered for a moment. "On the other hand, just in case ..." He brought out a case of small ampoules and selected one, which he injected into the unconscious man strapped to the stretcher.

"One of your fancy poisons?" enquired Cirean.

"Yes, a good one, this. No visible effects at all for about twelve hours, while it's metabolised to the active form. Once it reaches therapeutic levels, unless the antidote is administered, he'll suffer a massive myocardial infarction, followed by irreversible ventricular fibrillation inevitably resulting in cardiac asystole."

"He dies?"

"Of course."

"Why couldn't you just say that?"

"One always likes to show off one's superior knowledge." Lokin smiled, superiorly.

Cirean grinned, checking her weapons. "A bolt through the head is quicker."

"But rather more noticeable, and possibly repairable. The beauty of this one", he threw the ampoule into the recycler, "is that the resulting heart attack looks entirely natural, so they'll treat it naturally, without realising that what they actually need to do is get the poison out of his system. And since plasma protein binding of the active metabolite is about 98%, with an excretion half-life of 12 days or so, they won't succeed in time, even if they identify it." He smiled benevolently.

"You actually enjoy this stuff, don't you?" They both chuckled. It was a question she'd asked many times before.

The explosions had stopped, but the sounds of fighting in the corridor had been coming ever closer, and at that moment a group of Republic troops burst into the medical bay.

Hehe, medical geekdom in the name of Imperial sneakiness.

*is a medical geek*

"On the floor, now!" the leader yelled at them, brandishing a blaster rifle, while behind him was a squad of another five or six with a mixture of rifles and assault cannons.

Lokin drew himself up to full height and looked down his nose at the trooper, slightly difficult as the trooper topped him by at least six inches. "How dare you? I am a physician, engaged in treating a patient, and this crew member is kindly assisting me."

The trooper's face was visible through the plexiglass of his helmet, and he looked a bit nonplussed, obviously not having expected any response other than instant terrified obedience. In that moment of hesitation Cirean threw a flashbang grenade into the middle of the squad followed by a spray of bolts from her rifle. They were knocked dizzy and blinded by the bright light and smoke, and none of them got up again. The leader wasn't blinded and had not been badly injured by the rifle fire, but was knocked off balance. Not giving up, he stumbled forward trying to bring his rifle to bear, and Cirean simultaneously shot him through the chest at close range and slipped her vibroknife through the joint at the base of his helmet into his throat. He collapsed, dead before he hit the floor.

Without needing to be told, Lokin was already out of the door, pushing the stretcher on its suspensors. Cirean followed him, dropping a corrosive grenade and an explosive probe on the downed squad for good measure.

They headed swiftly down the corridor towards the escape pods.

And came round the corner straight into a group of about thirty more Republic troopers, with several uniformed SIS agents.

*is a medical geek*

Woot for first-hand experience! (Well, probably not with infiltrating starships, but who knows )

And came round the corner straight into a group of about thirty more Republic troopers, with several uniformed SIS agents.

"One of your fancy poisons?" enquired Cirean.

 

"Yes, a good one, this. No visible effects at all for about twelve hours, while it's metabolised to the active form. Once it reaches therapeutic levels, unless the antidote is administered, he'll suffer a massive myocardial infarction, followed by irreversible ventricular fibrillation inevitably resulting in cardiac asystole."

 

"He dies?"

 

"Of course."

 

"Why couldn't you just say that?"

 

"One always likes to show off one's superior knowledge." Lokin smiled, superiorly.

(Well, probably not with infiltrating starships, but who knows )

I'm saying nothing

Brilliant!

Glad you liked it

"Too much", was Cirean's muttered assessment to Lokin, who nodded with resigned agreement. They stopped and waited.

One of the SIS agents, a pale-skinned Zabrak who seemed to be in charge, came a little way towards them. "Cnoc Garbh, SIS. Just drop your weapons, if you would, please." He smiled, but only with his mouth, eyes remaining cold and watchful.

Cirean and Lokin complied, at least with their visible weapons.

"Excellent, thank you." Garbh moved forward a little more and looked down at the stretcher. "So, here's our defector, all nicely packaged up ready for us."

Several of the troopers had surrounded Lokin and Cirean and put their wrists in restraints. Then they stood back, waiting for further orders. Garbh stared at Lokin and Cirean. "The other researchers kindly told us he'd been brought up to the medical bays. And who might you two be?" he enquired.

Lokin stepped forward, in front of Cirean and blocking Garbh's view of her. "Dr Eckard Lokin, ship's physician", he said, assuming a pose of outraged bewilderment. "I really must protest. This man has severe electrolyte imbalances which are affecting his heart, and you are interrupting his treatment. Is this how the Republic treats people?"

"Come on, Doctor, or whatever you are", said Garbh, shaking his head. "We've accounted for all the medical crew on the Warhammer, and you aren't one of them." He looked back at one of the other agents, who had been scrolling through a datapad. The agent looked up and shook his head. Garbh looked back at Lokin. “Seems you aren't on any list at all, not crew or passengers. Maybe you'd like to give me your real name and who you are?”

Lokin continued his outrage. "You insult me, Mr Garbh. You have my name and I most certainly am a doctor on this ship. You may check my physician registration if you wish. The identity card is in my belt pocket, I would give it to you if my hands were free. I graduated nearly three years ago, and I would be happy to give you a few lectures to convince you, if I thought you would understand or appreciate them. As to not being on the crew roster, I have no control over administrative failures. But all of this is irrelevant, I really need to get back to treating my patient. Look at those biosigns, he's in serious danger of a severe cardiac event and he's sedated for his own comfort and safety. I have already had to remove him from the medical bay I was using because your troopers invaded it." Lokin was creating as much distraction as possible, knowing that Cirean would be sub-vocalising a report to Twelve through her implanted comlink.

"Oh, very well, I won't doubt you're a medic." Garbh smiled his non-smile again. "Or that you've made sure those monitors are showing exactly what you say they are. But you definitely are not part of the crew or a passenger on this ship. I'd be willing to bet good money that your lady friend there isn't either. You're Imperial Intelligence, and you wanted to get our defector away before I got here. It was obvious the Empire would try something."

Lokin glanced back at Cirean, who gave him the tiniest possible nod, letting him know that Twelve was fully aware of the situation. Continuing the distraction, Lokin glared at the agent. "You clearly have no idea what you're talking about. What are you going to do with us? And with this unfortunate man, whoever he is, who will be having a heart attack in the next few hours without urgent treatment." Despite the seriousness of their situation, he spared a moment for brief amused speculation about Garbh's reaction when the defecting administrator really did have a fatal heart attack.

"You'll all be coming with me." Garbh smiled, this time with satisfaction. "A good bag on this hunt, a defector with a lot of useful information and a couple of Imperial Intelligence agents too. Really hadn't hoped for that. I'm sure you'll all three be singing like sweet little birds once we get you to Coruscant."

Their comlinks buzzed and Twelve said peremptorily, "Down, now!" As one, Cirean and Lokin dropped to the floor.

As they did so, a ventilation shaft grille above the Republic troopers burst open, and Twelve hurled several concussion grenades then dropped into the middle of them, simultaneously sending a wide spray of blasts from his rifle.

In a well practiced manouevre, Lokin rolled to put his wrists within reach of Cirean. Within seconds, she'd extracted a miniature EMP from the toolkit on his arm and released their restraints. Both of them grabbed their weapons from the floor.

Twelve was all but invisible in the middle of the mass of troopers. Ten or so were down or at least injured, but there were still way too many. Garbh was shouting over the chaos, "Don't kill him! Take him alive!"

For the moment, no-one was taking any notice of Lokin or Cirean. They downed three more troopers before the others realised they were being attacked from behind. But there were at least a dozen surging around Twelve. As they started forward, two or three bolts hit the right side of his chest simultaneously, penetrating his armour. There was a bright spray of blood.

"No!" Cirean almost screamed, but Twelve was up and shooting again. Through their comlinks he grunted "Code K, go."

Code K meant get out now, no questions. Cirean was still trying to push her way through the troopers, but Lokin grabbed her and pulled her back. Holding her tightly against him, he hit the overload button on his stealth generator and pushed her to the side, just as several bolts flew through the air where they'd been.

They had about 10 seconds. Pulling her with him, he moved at top speed past the mass of troopers still trying to take Twelve down - fortunately it was a wide corridor - round the corner and into the nearest maintenance shaft. His generator failed just as he pulled the hatch back into place.

"We have to go back!" Cirean was trying to push him aside and get the hatch open again.

"Not yet! We can't fight them all off. Let them capture him, then we'll break him out. That's the best we can do."

"You'd abandon him?!"

"No! Cirean, I know ..." He stopped. He did know, Cirean and Twelve had been falling for each other for months. But now wasn't exactly the time to discuss the reasons why she wasn't thinking straight. "I want to get him out too, but if we go back now, we'll just get ourselves caught, or killed. He gave us the opening and ordered us to get out, we're going to do that, then we'll come back for him."

"I suppose you're right." She sounded both angry and defeated, but stopped trying to open the hatch. He couldn't see, in the dark of the shaft, but he suspected she was crying.

There was a crackle through their comlinks, then they went dead. Either Twelve had deactivated his link, or, more likely, he'd been hit in the jaw and it had been damaged. Whichever it was, there could be no further contact with him. Cirean swallowed audibly but neither of them said anything. They both knew it was probably bad news.

The sounds of fighting continued for a short while, muffled by distance and the walls of the shaft, but no-one came near the hatch. Obviously no-one had noticed or tracked where Lokin and Cirean had gone yet. They had escaped, at least for now.

Finally the blaster fire and shouting stopped. Then Garbh's voice, barking orders, though they couldn't make out exactly what. A series of heavy feet tramped past their hiding place. Garbh's voice again: "Get the agent and defector to the Pride. Have a medic check them over. Then scan the Warhammer, track down the other two." More feet tramped past, fading into the distance.

There was silence in the darkness. Twelve was alive, but taken by the enemy.

There was silence in the darkness. Twelve was alive, but taken by the enemy.

 

 

Couldn't resist the LoTR quote

<3

Loving the action. Looking forward to seeing how careers unfold.

<3

 

Loving the action. Looking forward to seeing how careers unfold.

I adore this!! I love Lokin, he's always been fascinating!

Thank you both, always glad to please

I find Lokin the most interesting of all the companions, once I'd got over him stalking me round Taris and then turning into a rakghoul, which was a little offputting

"About another minute until my stealth generator resets", whispered Lokin. "Then I'll go and check the route to the pods." He felt the movement of Cirean's nod.

Working by touch, he extracted an auger from his toolkit and quietly bored a small hole through a joint in the panel, enlarging it just enough to fit a tiny flexible camera. There was nothing visible in the corridor. He cracked open the hatch, activated his generator and slid out, silently pushing the hatch closed again behind him.

They were close to the escape pods already, just a few yards to the passageway, but the doors to the pods were out of sight and a guard might be posted, if the Republic were sufficiently intelligent and paranoid.

They weren't, or at least not to that extent. He went back to the maintenance hatch, opened it, beckoned Cirean out and they both went to the nearest pod. Cirean sealed the hatch while Lokin checked the pod's status. It was still disconnected from the main systems and with the automated engine firing routine disabled, so no-one had found Twelve's work in Engineering. He ejected the pod, which, without further impetus, hovered close to the Warhammer, appearing simply as a lump of debris if anyone noticed it on the sensors.

Lokin sent the pre-arranged signal to the Intelligence patrol craft. Within minutes, it arrived in full stealth mode, clamped the pod to itself, and retreated swiftly.

Once at a safe distance, the clamps were released and the patrol ship pilot manouevred his craft until the two could dock.

While they waited, Lokin and Cirean discussed their options. Both wanted to get Twelve out, if it was humanly possible; Cirean because she loved him, Lokin because Twelve and Cirean were the closest friends he'd ever had, and there was no way he was going to let them down.

"But if we report in to HQ, or if the captain has already reported, they'll just order us straight back to Dromund Kaas. There's no chance we'll get authorisation for a rescue mission", said Cirean dully.

"So we don't report in", said Lokin. "The captain won't have made a report yet, he was to maintain a total communications blackout until after the pickup. If we don't talk to HQ, they can't order anything."

"We're not Ciphers, we don't have the authority to make decisions like this." She was frustrated and close to tears again.

"We're part of a Cipher team." Lokin shrugged. "I imagine that will be close enough for the captain - if we just go for it, he won't think to question the orders until later."

She nodded. "You can do the talking then, you can blag your way through anything." She tried a smile.

He put his arm round her shoulders. "We'll sort this, Cirean. I promise."

The Corellian Pride was an Interdictor class cruiser, one with which Lokin was very familiar. Cirean knew the ship's general layout but not in so much detail as Lokin. They'd agreed that she would 'acquire' a Republic uniform and head for Engineering, there to replicate Twelve's work and set up at least one escape pod for covert exit as before.

While she was getting to Engineering, Lokin would use the network of maintenance access tubes and air ducts to get to the medical bays and find out exactly where Twelve was. Once he'd located Twelve, he would assess the situation and instruct Cirean which escape pod or pods needed fixing and what else might need doing, such as switching off security cams, overriding door locks and suchlike.

What happened after that depended on Twelve's condition. Dead, alive, if allive, how badly injured. They had a number of possibilities, but decisions had to wait until Lokin had found him and assessed the situation.

The defector Carn Ban was irrelevant. He would be dead in a few hours anyway.

*************

The Intelligence stealth patroller dropped them a short distance from an external maintenance hatch by the Pride's docking bay and then retreated again. Using compressed air jets Lokin and Cirean moved themselves up to the hatch, where Lokin slowly and carefully removed the handle and disarmed the alarm circuits. He replaced the handle and opened it. They did not enter immediately, but waited a few minutes to be sure there was no alarm.

There was no alarm. Once inside, they sealed the hatch again and shed their spacesuits. The maintenance tube terminated in a small alcove in one corner of the hangar and they would be able to observe the hangar without being easily noticed, hoping to catch some unsuspecting Rep with a uniform of approximately the right size.

Luck was on their side. A pair of engineers, one man and one woman, were working on a terminal close by, behind a pile of crates and not in direct sight of any other crew member or holocams.

Lokin and Cirean looked at each other and nodded. They didn't need any discussion; it wasn't by any means their first time in this situation. Lokin activated his stealth generator on the wide field setting and they moved quickly and silently behind the two engineers, Cirean garotting the woman and Lokin slicing his vibroknife into the back of the man's neck, severing his spinal cord. Both caught their victims as they fell and eased them gently to the ground. Perfect kills, quick, clean and silent.

They stripped the two bodies and dragged them into the maintenance tube. Cirean changed quickly into the woman's uniform, which fitted well enough. She stuffed the man's uniform into the woman's toolcase to pass to Lokin later if needed, gave him a brief hug, then walked casually round the crates and out across the main hangar.

It was a long, hot and dirty crawl through maintenance tubes, air ducts and cable conduits from the hangar all the way up to the medical bays. But again, luck was on Lokin's side; there wasn't any active maintenance going on and the ship didn't have alarms or sensors fitted in any of the tubes.

Sloppy, thought Lokin. He wasn't complaining, it made his job easy, but really showed up the lack of foresight and intelligence in the Republic military and SIS. Sleepwalking Idiots Service, he decided.

Cirean contacted him when he was about half way, confirming that she was safely in Engineering, unchallenged, and about to start hacking into the ship's computer.

About fifteen minutes later, she confirmed that she had access, and was starting to scan the medical bays. He told her to ignore the bigger bays with multiple beds, reasoning that Garbh would want Twelve kept on his own, and she quickly confirmed that Twelve was in the fourth of the six individual bays, from the direction Lokin was moving. The first bay held a trooper with both legs in the process of being splinted by med droids, the third, fifth and sixth were empty. The second held Carn Ban, and it appeared he was already in the throes of his heart attack.

Lokin could hear the urgent medical orders and beeping alarms from Ban's medical bay as he crawled up the main air duct outside the med bays, and he grinned to himself.

It was several hours earlier than he had expected, but it was an excellent distraction. It was unlikely that anyone would be paying much attention to what happened in the other bays while the medics tried in vain to get Ban revived.

The individual bays all had their own separate ducts which could be isolated from the main channels by sliding baffles and ray shields, vital for any anti-infective quarantine, but also much narrower than the main channel and difficult to move through. But it was the only way without being caught trying to get into the bay from outside.

He squeezed himself in and inched up the narrow duct until he could see through the ventilation grille. Twelve was alone apart from a med droid which was standing passively to one side. He whispered through the comlink to Cirean, telling her that he was in position and to override the security holocam.

He waited for Cirean to confirm that she'd got control of the holocam, then he cautiously eased off the ventilation grille, and pushed it just enough to one side so that he could get a clear view of the droid. He sliced its circuits remotely, and it froze in place, quivering gently with a few sparks running up and down from its overridden circuits.

He pushed the grille all the way to the side and dropped into the room.

... SIS. Sleepwalking Idiots Service,

Lol, I like that.

Lol, I like that.

I second that.

Lol, I like that.

I second that.

The medical sciences adore acronyms

He was appalled at the extent of Twelve's injuries. The man was unconscious and his skin was dead grey-white and cold to the touch. His pulse was barely perceptible, thin, weak and thready, and his breathing was fast, shallow and difficult. There were severe contusions and bruising to his face, but at least his eyes were unharmed. His right shoulder was smashed and all the bones in that arm broken. The arm was roughly splinted but Lokin couldn't tell whether the bones were set properly and the shoulder certainly needed surgery. There were first, second and third degree plasma burns to his legs and abdomen. They'd been covered with Skinseal plastifilm spray but nothing further appeared to have been done. The chest wounds had been covered by a loose bandage, but when he peeled it back, he discovered to his horror that the wounds were still open and oozing, white splinters of ribs penetrating the lungs. It was a miracle that Twelve was still breathing at all.

He hissed some curses under his breath, and whispered to Cirean. "He's in bad shape, flaming gundark turds have basically just sedated him, thrown a couple of kolto packs in his direction and walked off! He's in hypovolaemic shock and they haven't even closed his chest wounds! He needs urgent surgery and then he'll be in a tank for weeks! If I find the medic who treated him I swear he'll die the slowest and most painful death I can ..."

"Eckard, concentrate! Can he be moved?" Somehow they'd changed roles; Lokin was now the furious unthinking one and Cirean was keeping a cool head and planning strategy.

"No, not as he is. I wouldn't even risk moving the bed right now, he needs immediate repair of his chest wall. One of these bone splinters could be fatal if it shifted in the wrong direction."

"Do whatever you can", she whispered back. "The pods are fixed, and I'm safely holed up in an empty storage room. I'm still hacked into the bridge computers. Should be able to cut power, set alarms off, do something to create another diversion if you need one.”

“All right.” Lokin turned back to Twelve and took several deep, calming breaths. You're a doctor, he told himself. This is a patient. He needs treatment. You've assessed him, now deal with it.

Fortunately medical bays the galaxy over are all much the same. Lokin found what he needed in a few minutes, scrubbed himself under the steriliser, and returned to Twelve's bedside. As he gently fitted an oxygen mask over Twelve's battered face and inserted an IV line, he muttered more imprecations against the Republic, who claimed and preached compassion amongst their other lies.

Half an hour later, the former dead grey-whiteness of Twelve's skin was giving way to a more normal pink flush, and his temperature was up a degree again. An infusion of artificial platelets and intravenous fluids had brought his oxygen saturation and blood pressure to a much more healthy level, his heart rate had dropped and the pulse was much stronger. His breathing was still shallow and rapid, but the lung punctures were sealed, the splintered ribs removed, and the chest wounds closed. It was only preliminary surgery, a lot more repair needed to be done, but at least Twelve was no longer on the verge of death.

Lokin called Cirean again. “Good news and bad news. I've stabilised him and he's got a much better chance of survival now. Bad news, still not a good idea to move him far or fast.”

SIS. Sleepwalking Idiots Service, he decided.

I know I'm late to the party on loving this, but...I love this.

I love the medical detail in this. It makes it a much richer story, more immersive.

Hmm.... now you're giving me ideas .... Kaas City Hope, Dr Lokin's Casebook, Lokin M.E., Alien Casualty, ER in Space .... *ponders*

I know I'm late to the party on loving this, but...I love this.

Like I said, we love acronyms ... here are a few more

“Would carbonite freezing help?” she asked.

Why hadn't he thought of that? Of course the medical bays would have a carbonite freezing system, for bad injuries or illnesses that couldn't be fixed on the spot. “Yes, absolutely … if we can get him there unobserved.”

“I've hacked the security holocams, remember?” and he could almost hear her smiling. “Your med bay has been showing a loop of Twelve lying on the bed on his own, just in case anyone checked it. I can do the same with the corridor outside, then I'll come up and deal with the guard outside your door, but it's going to need a distraction to be sure we don't get interrupted on the way.”

"What's happening with Ban?" Lokin asked.

"Seven medics and a few droids buzzing round him like flies on a ball of dung. Tubes and wires and flashing lights everywhere, looks like a life day celebration gone wrong."

"Such a colourful description .... any sign of Garbh?"

"Nope, not yet. They probably haven't dared tell him."

"True, probably still hoping they can bring Ban out of it." Lokin smirked with grim satisfaction. "What about the rest of the medical area? Any comings and goings?"

"A few, but they're all around the big bays, not down with you. There's no guard on the carbonite chamber. The only person we need to deal with at this moment is the guard on your door and I can handle that."

"We still need a distraction to be sure we don't get disturbed." Lokin frowned in deep thought. "Oh, and jam the door lock on Ban's room, just in case one of the medics decides to take a wander."

"Already on the list, Eckard. I do know what I'm doing." He could hear her grinning. The news that Twelve was out of immediate danger had brightened her up considerably. "Give me five minutes, I've already set up a few things in anticipation."

Lokin checked Twelve's status again while he was waiting for her. He was definitely stable and his breathing was easier, but the stability was fragile, and he couldn't be transported easily with the oxygen mask and IV line still in. Carbonite freezing, for all its potential effects on the musculoskeletal and nervous systems, was definitely the safest way.

Cirean came back on the comlink. "Ok, I've set up a nice sabotage series to keep the Reps well distracted: a power failure in the main med bays to keep everyone there, then a second one on the bridge, with non-working backup relays, obviously. Then a chain of apparently random alarms all over the ship except the med bays, each one triggered by fixing the one before. Also, all their docking bay doors have mysteriously lost their lubricatiion fluid and won't open, just in case they notice we've gone and decide they might send fighters or shuttles out to follow us. I can trigger it all from a subconsole on my way up to you. In this uniform I'll just be one more engineer rushing to fix stuff."

Despite the situation, Lokin couldn't refrain from laughing. "That will really keep them occupied. You actually enjoy this stuff, don't you?" he asked.

"Oh yes, there's so much more I could do. I was going to try and locate Garbh's quarters so I could set up a sewage backflow, but sadly I didn't manage it in time." She almost giggled. "I'm on my way now, see you in a bit."

Hmm.... now you're giving me ideas .... Kaas City Hope, Dr Lokin's Casebook, Lokin M.E., Alien Casualty, ER in Space .... *ponders*

Ideas....ideas are good.

Lokin stood in the doorway of the private medical suite in the Dromund Kaas Military Hospital, watching the vital signs monitor over the kolto tank containing the badly injured Cipher Twelve. He'd insisted on overseeing the surgical and medical treatment, and it had been done well and successfully, but it would still be a long time before Twelve would be signed off as fit for active service again. Sometimes medical knowledge was not such a good thing.

He said nothing of that to the silent Cirean who was sitting on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on Twelve's floating form. He wondered whether he should have reported the growing attachment between her and Twelve. But they were his friends, the three of them were a close-fitting, perfectly matched, and highly effective team which none of them wanted to break up, and in any case it was entirely too late now.

He remembered Twelve's dispassionate assessment, several years ago. "We are all expendable, Agent, only the mission matters."

For once, Twelve had failed to accept that. Their mission had been completed; Ban was long dead now and would not be handing over any information. Their escape was not a requirement, but Twelve had ensured that it occurred when he could easily have got himself out and left them. They had then ignored the precept even further by going to get him out themselves. So much for avoiding personal entanglements.

That had not formed part of his report, of course. Loyalty was important, to his friends first, Intelligence second, and the Empire a distant third.

Unfortunately, it was impossible that the post-debriefing psychological analyses had not picked up the character flaws - for they would certainly be classified as such for Imperial Intelligence agents - of loyalty to his friends above Intelligence in himself, and Cirean's burgeoning relationship with Twelve. There was no room for emotion or personal loyalties in Intelligence.

Lokin understood Twelve's coldness a lot better now, even though the man had let it go in the end. He would need to be careful to cultivate it for himself in future. No more close friendships, remain isolated and remote. Lokin versus the universe. Possibly the Jedi have a point about suppressing emotions and avoiding attachments, he thought. It does lead to pain. And disciplinary action, unfortunately. It was unavoidable, since he and Cirean had had no authority to carry out the rescue, and it could easily have been disastrous.

Seeing the state Twelve was in now, and thinking about what they would all likely have to go through in the near future, he almost wished it had been.

His holocom buzzed silently in his pocket. Lokin stepped out of the room and a few steps down the hallway and pressed the receive button. Keeper's stern face looked up at him. "Agent. Report to my office now." The call ended without ceremony.

And so it begins, he thought wearily.

He went to tell Cirean that he was going to HQ. She nodded, still without saying anything. He closed the door quietly and left her to sit in watchful hope.