Star Wars_ The Black Fleet Crisis 03_ Tyrant's Test - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [65]
“It’s a little late for word games. Be specific—what information?”
“Not information, exactly,” Ourn said. “More a thing. How you can use it, what you can learn from it—that’s for you to discover. But I can put it in your hands and tell you everything I know.”
“And this thing is—”
Ourn produced a small black box from a concealed pocket. “Is a way to send messages to N’zoth—to Nil Spaar. Completely undetectable, untraceable. By what magic, my engineer could not divine. But you have many scientists—they will find out for you.”
It was Leia’s turn to take a step forward. “Where did you get this?”
“From the viceroy. His ship destroyed mine, you remember—at East Port, the day he left. He promised me restitution, but it was an empty promise—”
“He gave this box to you before he left?”
“Well, yes, of course.”
“And you’ve been in touch with him since he left?”
“Only to remind him of his promise—” Ourn stopped, realizing the contradictions. “We had an understanding—he was unfaithful. I will help you now.”
“How did you help him? By spying for him?”
Ourn swallowed nervously and tried to smile. “Now, Princess—how many secrets does someone like me know? Nothing. Less than nothing. I pretended. I deceived him—”
With a single quick stride, Leia closed the distance between them. “You took my husband away from me,” she said, and dropped into a Jedi fighting stance.
“Princess, surely—”
It took only one blow to silence him, one more to bring him to his knees, and one last to send him sprawling, unconscious. Releasing her breath in a satisfied sigh, Leia stood straight and looked to a startled Tarrick.
“Thank you for that,” Leia said lightly, flexing her hands in front of her. “I just might be able to sleep a little tonight.”
Chapter 6
The spotlight of the next morning’s staff strategy session was on the two intelligence chiefs, each of whom had been rudely surprised—and professionally embarrassed—by the previous day’s events.
For Admiral Graf, head of Fleet Intelligence, the problem was explaining how the Mallar recording and the holo stills of the destruction at Polneye had escaped Fleet custody. Graf also had to answer for a second, apparently separate, breach of security involving classified data from the battle at Doornik 319.
“There are three authorized copies of the Mallar recording,” Graf said. “One here, one in the Fleet system, and one in the hands of the Threat Assessment Office—plus a locked copy in the Fleet archives. We also found two unauthorized copies in private data spaces within the Fleet system and are looking for others.”
“Does that mean you have two suspects?” Leia asked.
“No,” said Graf. “The thinking right now is that those look like innocent violations. But we’re continuing to backtrace the access logs for all six copies. We’ve already interviewed everyone who had access to the Palace copy—”
“No, you haven’t,” Leia interrupted.
“Excuse me?”
“You haven’t talked to me,” she said.
“Well, of course, I presumed that any use you made of this item—”
“How do you know I didn’t put a copy on my datapad and take it home? How do you know I didn’t make a copy and give it away?”
Graf frowned, flustered. “That seems a very unlikely scenario—”
“Did you talk to Alole? Tarrick? No one can work in my office without high-level clearances.”
“We did not,” he admitted. “Your office was exempted from the interview list.”
“Then let’s look outside my office, at the people who just visit. The first administrator?” she asked challengingly. “How about Admiral Ackbar?”
“No.”
Leia looked down the table to where Ackbar sat. “Admiral?”
Ackbar placed both hands flat on the table. “It is true that I have taken a special interest in Plat Mallar. I have made no secret of it, except where it might allow Mallar to escape the taint of my favoritism. It is also true, Admiral Graf, that I have in the