Star Wars_ Legacy of the Force 04_ Exile - Aaron Allston [33]
The chrono above the main comm board counted down the last few seconds remaining to her. As it neared zero, she said, “Contact three three nine.”
Lights above the holocams flared up, bathing her in brightness, and the holocomm unit activated with a surge of noise resembling the engine start-up sound of a well-tuned high-performance speeder.
The disembodied voice of the system computer, male and pleasant, said “Contact.” A moment later it added, “The target system is acknowledging. They are receiving.” The computer’s voice would be electronically scrubbed from the audio signal being sent.
No return hologram appeared before Lumiya. The target was receiving but not yet responding. Lumiya ignored the fact, presenting an appearance of unconcern while devoting herself to the bowl of repulsive grapes.
After nearly thirty seconds, a hologram materialized before her—the image of a Bothan male, his fur mostly black with patches of tan, including one patch surrounding his eyes that gave him the appearance of a mask wearer being broadcast in negative. He wore informal attire: gray pants and a matching loose tunic that bared much of the fur of his chest and neck. “Who are you, and how did you get this frequency and access code?”
Lumiya finished her grape before turning her attention to the hologram. “I am a humble daughter of a noble house, and I obtained these things by paying a fortune to the correct people. And you are Tathak K’roylan, deputy intelligence leader for the esteemed world of Bothawui.”
Esteemed was perhaps too strong a word, but it was true that there was a certain amount of respect between the Hapans and Bothans. They did not have much contact, but each recognized in the other a mastery of political maneuvering, manipulation, and conspiracy.
K’roylan didn’t bother to insist on her name. She hadn’t offered it when asked; she wouldn’t volunteer it. “So,” he said, “you have my attention. Briefly.”
Lumiya smiled. “I will say things. You do not have to confirm or deny them. Then I will give you my frequency and access code. After this message ends, I suspect you will speak with your superiors and then, eventually, initiate a return communication.”
“Go ahead.” K’roylan was professionally civil. Even if he was outraged by this intrusion into his personal time and by the fact that his security had been at least partially compromised, it wasn’t smart to insult someone who could reach him this way…and it always helped to have very wealthy contacts.
“The Bothans are preparing three fleets for an assault on Galactic Alliance forces,” Lumiya said. “A just response to what you have suffered at their hands, including a series of assassinations of key Bothan personnel on Coruscant. But your planners are impeded because it will be impossible to launch the fleets from the Bothawui system and other origin points without being detected, and probably shadowed, by Galactic Alliance forces. This eliminates your ability to perform surprise attacks.”
The Bothan shrugged, looking at her as though he hadn’t recognized a single term she’d used.
“So,” she continued, “I am communicating to inform you that I can blind the GA observers and give you an opportunity of, oh, ten to twenty standard hours in which to deploy your forces without being detected. Of course, to do this, I would have to have information sources planted deep within the GA government, and I do. I shall prove this by providing you with some information. Free, useful information.” She modulated her voice, making it lower, more sultry. “Favvio, transmit the package.”
The computer’s voice responded, “At once, Mistress.”
“The files now coming up on your displays,” Lumiya continued, “are from the internal records of the Galactic Alliance Guard. They include details on the assassinations I mentioned a moment ago. By details, I mean details that the holonews services never had. Exact times, places, and