“Vader’s hound has arrived in-system,” the familiar faceless hologram was saying.

Twilight’s face was calm, but her heart was racing. She’d known intellectually that Princess Luna would inevitably follow them to Corulag – after all, most of the cell’s own clues had been based on stolen Imperial intelligence. But hearing confirmation that her mentor’s sister was here, now… she swallowed.

“Based on intelligence received from our sources, it appears she does not intend to personally lead the investigation. At present she remains in orbit, commandeering local ISB assets to do the grunt work.” The hologram folded its hands behind its back while Twilight let out a breath she didn’t realize that she was holding. “Luckily for us, they aren’t happy about a creepy Force-wielder outside the chain of command, and a non-human at that, butting in on their world. That lack of trust may give us an edge.”

“Which we’ll need,” Janus muttered.

Twilight winced, but nodded her agreement.

“Quite,” it nodded as well. “I think we have a narrow window of opportunity to act. The figure matching Maul’s description was last seen in the company of the smuggler Vercacius Eon, who was killed resisting arrest while our man fled the scene. We have access to Imperial databanks regarding known associates of his, some still in the system. If we want to know what he might have had to do with Maul and the artifacts, we need to question them. To do that we need to get to them before the ISB does. Sources strongly believe the Inquisitor will have them move in, and soon.”

“So we have immediate and ready access to classified Imperial data, the politics of Inquisitorial-ISB relations, and insight into Luna’s plans?” Twilight pursed her lips. “Beg your pardon, but doesn’t this sound a little too convenient?”

“Intelligence is our specialty,” said the figure. “I know it isn’t appealing to go in blind based on intelligence from a source you don’t know, but trust me when I say this one is quite reliable.”

“All this information comes from one source?” Twilight raised an eyebrow.

The hologram remained silent, as if aware they had already said too much. The princess frowned.

After a moment of the awkward pause, Janus coughed.

“Yes, well…” he cleared his throat. “I’m sure we have good reasons for keeping this all to ourselves, but-”

“You know the reason. If either of you are captured, you can’t give up intelligence you don’t have.”

“But time’s wasting. If you want these folks picked from the ISB net you’d better start sending that intelligence our way.”

“Of course.”

High in orbit, Luna paced irritably back and forth across what had previously been the primary briefing room. Technicians from the Imperial Security Bureau were hard at work, replacing large sections of wall with monitors connected to the Starry Night’s upgraded sensor suite. The primary holoprojector was being doubled in size and partitioned into sections, the better to sort and display the data from an entire planet-wide network of satellites and probe droids, along with allowing simultaneous communication with up to half a dozen agents scattered throughout the globe.

Or, at least, that was what they were supposed to be doing. In actual fact the job they were doing was, if not criminally incompetent, at least skirting the line. The technicians had had to call a complete halt to work three times so far to retrieve necessary tools they had somehow “forgotten” to bring, replace a key holonot transceiver component that had somehow managed to break, and to perform maintenance on the ship’s main reactor “to ensure proper flow of energy to the new equipment”. What this actually translated to was that a job supposed to take a mere five hours had somehow been going on for fifteen and still had yet to bring matters to a conclusion.

Luna halted her pacing at random, choosing the closest technician to fix with a distinctly unhealthy glare. The man looked up at him, let his eyes wander briefly to the prominent lightsaber on her belt, and then rapidly fell back into the work he had been doing. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and the princess allowed herself a quick smirk. Somehow, they seemed to have fewer problems when hovered over by a being with the authority to execute them on a whim.

The alicorn’s smile faded as she resumed her pacing. She had no doubt that this was an unsubtle but utterly deniable message from the Imperial Security Bureau. Concerned first and foremost with their own petty turf and potential for advancement, as all their kind were, Major Celebraine and his lackeys hoped to coerce her into a less dominant position than was her due. Or at least demonstrate they could sabotage her mission if she became too demanding.

Luna shook her head. Perhaps petty politicking might work on a human, but an alicorn was made of sterner stuff. Just as soon as that holoprojector was ready…

In the end, it took another half hour, but at least part of the expanded holographic table came online. The princess didn’t hesitate, placing a call to the Major virtually the instant the technician vacated the underside. The plain-looking man was gratifyingly swift to answer this time.

“My lady Inquistor,” he said with a formal bow. “How may I assist you?”

“I find your workmen unsatisfactory,” Luna answered. “Every hour that they dither and delay provides my quarry another hour to slip away. Utterly unacceptable.”

“My apologies, madam,” Celebraine replied in a neutral tone. “They were the best I could find on short notice. They had previous experience working onboard the Arquitens-class for the Navy and came recommended by Admiral DeWylt. I assure you the Imperial Security Bureau will not hire them again any time soon.”

“So these men are not actually employed by the ISB?” Luna sounded almost conversational. “And you deny any formal affiliation with them?”

“You are correct, ma’am,” he nodded.

“Fascinating,” the princess said drily.

Suddenly, and absolutely without warning, there was a whirling blur of light and movement. No one in the enclosed space had time to move, or even blink. There was a hiss like a striking serpent. One moment, a middle-aged technician had been standing next to an opened vidscreen port, a small device clutched in his hand. The next, he was staring down in mute horror at the blade of red plasma jutting from his chest.

The other two men jumped, panic writ large on their faces. Tools were tossed aside in a mad dash for the nearest exit. It was in vain – the door shut itself. There had never been such a malicious-sounding click. As the luckless technician fell to his knees, eyes rolling back in his head, even Celebraine couldn’t keep his eyes from widening. The man's limp body hit the deck with a dull smack. Luna had her back to him. She hadn’t even moved.

Celebraine’s eyes moved from the corpse to the technicians cower in the corner to the Inquisitor. His face had resumed its typical impassive expression, but Luna could feel the fear rolling off him. Not even the Imperial Security Bureau could train agents to be entirely divorced from emotion.

“Now you realize just who you’re dealing with.”

For a minute, Luna simply let the man stew in it. Silence, thick and oppressive, descended. Half-active machines beeped and whirred and two men struggled to hold their breath in the vain hope of being forgotten, yet still it seemed so quiet that one might hear the beating of their own heart.

“So…” Luna continued at last, as the small metallic device wormed free from the dead man’s hand. “You deny any affiliation with this?” The little thing floated gently in the air before her.

“I do, my lady.”

“If my memory serves, this appears to be some manner of… oh, what do you people call it… bug?” It rotated on its axis before her eyes. “Encrypted, system-scale reach, perhaps even the capability of using the ship’s own suite to boost range through the holonet?”

“I’m afraid signals intelligence is not my department, madam.”

“Now whoever would have wanted to do such a foolish thing, I wonder?”

Celebraine’s eyes flicked from the princess to the device, then back to the princess. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“And if I were to, say, follow this little wonder’s signal, who might I find on the other end?”

“Criminals or dissident elements most likely.”

“Hmmm… well, I haven’t come here for such a broad sweep of things. My target is rather more specific and time-sensitive. I suppose perhaps I should just leave resolving this mystery in the capable hands of the ISB. After all, it wasn’t that inconvenient.” Luna tapped her chin. “Of course, if I had reason to believe these nefarious elements posed a threat to the success of my mission… why I suppose I’d have to take a more personal role in the investigation.” She paused. “Do you catch my meaning, Major?”

“I do indeed, my lady.” He gave another military bow. “I shall set agents to it without delay.”

“Good.” Luna nodded. “Now that we understand one another you can begin to transfer all the intelligence you have our mean and his sadly deceased companion. It should make for some interesting reading material while the ship’s upgrades are completed.”

“Of course,” Celebraine folded his arms behind his back. “Intelligence is our specialty.”

“Then get to it. Dismissed.”

The hologram faded away. Luna’s blue eyes wandered to the men in the corner.

“What are you two staring at?” She hissed. “Get back to work.”

Never had she seen a job done quite so quickly.

“So…” Twilight held a pair of magnoculars in her hands, peering past the speeder traffic zooming by. “All we have to do is sneak into a sleazy motel stuffed to gills with criminals and under the active observation of the ISB, convince an already paranoid man likely undergoing spice withdrawal to escape in secret with a pair of total strangers, and then smuggle him out before the Imperials realize we’re there and come in to shoot us.”

“More or less,” Janus shrugged, the wind atop the tall building musing his hair. “I thought we weren’t supposed to be getting any suicide missions.”

“Believe me,” Twilight smiled a little grimly. “I’ve been through worse.”

“…Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.”

In the confines of a small cabin, an alicorn sat alone. Lights banished, breathing slowed to a crawl, she looked like nothing so much as part of the scenery. She sat there on the hard durasteel floor, silent as the grave and almost as serene. She appeared… at peace.

“Peace is a lie,” the princess thought, “there is only passion.”

Eyes closed, wings folded, and mane down she was, mutilated horn held low like some great weight.

“Through passion, I gain strength.”

A small cylinder atop a rough bunk buckled, then began to rise.

“Through strength, I gain power.”

The little metal settled around her head, like a moon orbiting its planet.

“Through power, I gain victory.”

A second cylinder joined the first in its gentle dance, elegant and curved.

“Through victory, my chains are broken.”

There was a snap and a hiss, and twin pillars of brilliant red broke the darkness.

“The Force shall free me.”

Twin rings of sulfuric yellow joined them.