She knew something was off before she'd finished keying in the security code, and by the time the maintenance door of the private hangar had slid open, her blasters were in hand. Her eyes scanned the interior as she hesitated a moment to assess the feeling in her gut that danger was waiting for her to step over the threshold. While the automatic lights kicked on, illuminating the Devious Hope and the neatly kept hangar space around it, she examined every crate and piece of machinery for any sign of movement as her mind ran through possible ambush points, quickly running through the scenarios she would choose if her target were someone with her particular skills.
She was a sharpshooter, so distance would give her target the advantage. She would probably choose to wait just inside the door so that her target would have a blaster barrel at their temple before they could raise a weapon. It risked exposing her blaster arm to attack, but the bet would be that she could get a shot off in that moment it took her target to realize she was there and react. Either side of the door would work, of course, so Aittera had a fifty fifty chance of keeping her head. Fun odds, those.
Left. Step and pivot, blaster raised.
Aittera found herself face to face with a woman about an inch or two taller than herself with black hair pulled back into a tight bun, giving her hawkish face a stern severity that belied her natural beauty. Recognition took a milisecond, but it was the tension that kept her blaster arm extended.
“Rallyn?” she began simply.
“Yes, Aittera?” Rallyn's voice was as low and cool as her own.
“Mind telling me why your blaster is in my face?”
“I was trying to get the drop on you,” Rallyn explained flatly.
“And how is that working out for you?”
The two women stood in silence for a moment longer, each with a blaster pointed at the other, until Rallyn's grim expression dissolved into a cautious smirk, and she holstered her weapon. Once Aittera followed suit with a smug look of her own, the two clasped hands, though the tension in the air between them never quite dissipated wholly. This obviously wasn't a social call.
“So, what are you doing here? I didn't contact you.” Aittera wasn't much for social niceties, and Rallyn knew that. Besides, it was a better approach than demanding to know why the SIS agent had broken into her hangar and was essentially lying in wait.
“I wish you had. I might have been able to get ahead of this.” Rallyn pulled a piece of flimsiplast from a pocket and handed it over. “Security footage of you in an Imperial Intelligence uniform turned up in a data drop that is used by some of our deep cover agents.”
Aittera studied the arrest order with a growing frown. “At least they were kind enough to specify that I should be brought in alive beside the allegations of sedition and treason.”
“What the hell, Aittera? Please tell me you were investigating something independently or...I don't know....rescuing someone?” Caution gave way to genuine concern in her friend's tone, making her wince.
“No, it's more complicated than that,” she began, handing the flimsiplast back to Rallyn. “It's not what it looks like.”
“Well, that's a relief, because I did a little digging. Between this and an unconfirmed incident I tracked the Hope back to involving the Hutt Cartel and some blockade, it is starting to look like you and this Sith, Darth Ragious – whose dreadnought that footage was from – are working together.” The undertone of accusation didn't escape Aittera's notice.
“It wasn't like---yes, he was working with me on the Hope, but it wasn't—I never aided in any actions against the Republic. This was personal. I was a guest on the Avenger. That's all,” she found herself sputtering defensively.
“A guest? A guest!” Rallyn was incredulous. “Well, I'll just go back to headquarters and explain that you were just a guest on the flagship of a Sith Darth's fleet. I'm sure they'll understand. Hell, we get invited to come inspect Imperial vessels all the time!”
Aittera's defensiveness gave way to irritation. “I'm sleeping with him!”
She regretted the admission the moment it left her lips, and one look at Rallyn's appalled expression reinforced that feeling.
“If Davin were alive---” she began, but Aittera was quick to cut the sentence off before the dagger in her heart could be twisted.
“Davin's not alive,” she reminded her old friend coldly.
“Thank the stars,” Rallyn spit back.
“We're done here.” Aittera turned away from the brunette and stalked toward the Hope.
“The moment the Devious Hope tries to dock on any Republic world, you'll be arrested. I can't make this go away,” her oldest and once dearest living friend called out. “Watch your back!”
A slender figure shrouded in black and cloaked in the Force watched the two women converse, waiting until her target turned to stride toward the light freighter known as The Devious Hope before silently moving into position. It wasn't until Aittera had keyed in her security code and stepped into her ship's corridor before she was aware that she was still not alone, but it was already too late. Lightning erupted seemingly from nowhere, violently striking her body to send it crumpling to the floor. The last thing the redheaded smuggler was aware of before she lost consciousness was the smooth black helmet that hovered just in front of her waning vision and the accompanying recognition of the small crimson crest etched into it.
