Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [127]
The remainder of this room was open, dominated by three human guards and three security droids.
Daala announced herself to the droid stationed nearest the door. “Admiral Natasi Daala.” She refused to use her prisoner number, and the facility’s warden, perhaps as a gesture of respect, had not gone to any effort to discipline her when she failed to do so.
She’d have to remember that. The warden had visited her once and had shown her an acceptable, if minimal, level of respect. He was walking a tightrope between doing his duty and demonstrating sympathy, and Daala appreciated both his adroitness and his sentiments. When she returned to power, she’d have to look into the man and his record.
The droid gestured to one of the booths. “Number Six.”
She sat at Number Six. Her visitor was already there. It was her attorney, Otha Tevarkian.
Except it wasn’t. His resemblance to Tevarkian was striking. Like Tevarkian, he was about sixty, with fair hair just beginning to thin. His clothes were dark and expensive but unobtrusive, just like those of Daala’s attorney. The briefcase resting on the tabletop before him was Tevarkian’s, or identical to it—soft-sided, silver and blue, its latches currently undone. But the man’s face was just a little different, a little less lined, the texture of his skin a little smoother. His eyes were a darker shade of blue.
Daala looked him over. “I have no idea who you are.”
The man smiled. He withdrew a datapad from his briefcase and set it next to the transparisteel barrier. “Otha Tevarkian … sent a message to my employer, who contracted me to come visit you today. We are to discuss your escape.”
Something like a mild electric shock coursed through Daala’s body. Still, she had one of the galaxy’s best sabacc faces and chose to betray no emotion. “You have my attention.”
The false attorney smiled. “Good. Now, the problem with prisons, even maximum-security institutions, is that they have weak points that are concessions either to building and maintenance costs or to political and cultural expediency. For example, this chamber.” He gestured, taking in the guards behind Daala, the visitors to his right and left. “It’s very close to one of the exits from the facility, and this is because studies suggest that prisoners fare psychologically better if they receive ongoing support from their family and social circle, and that members of the family and social circle are more likely to visit if they are not much inconvenienced. Security concerns say that prisoners stay more secure if a visitors hall is deep within the secure boundaries of the prison; pragmatism says there are more visits if the visitors can walk in and walk out conveniently. Especially if the prison is on a mass-transit line.” The false attorney gave her a that’s-just-the-way-it-is shrug.
From his briefcase, he withdrew a stack of documents on flimsi. These looked thicker and stiffer than most flimsi.
The false Tevarkian saw her look and must have guessed her question. “Laminated. They last longer that way.”
“Ah.”
“That’s the story, anyway.” He turned the first of them so that the printing faced Daala. He pressed it up against the transparisteel, just below the level of her head, and smoothed it into place. It adhered on its own. “I’m going to take these down in a few moments, but when I do, they’ll leave the front facing of their laminate behind. Here we get into cost issues plaguing our prisons. The holocams watching this chamber are not of the highest quality. They and their operators will not see the laminate adhering to the transparisteel.” He set another document precisely beside the first.