Aaron stood at the exit of his apartment—a courtesy arranged by Vice-Admiral Corr.
He had been assigned an apartment within the city, closer to the elites. Aaron often wondered when the Vice-Admiral's support would end. More puzzling still, he hadn't yet fully understood why Corr was backing him so strongly.
He had pondered this question daily since Corr's unexpected friendliness began—and it was starting to frustrate him. He couldn't predict or glean any insight into the man's plans. Maybe it was pure mercy.
But the Empire was not known for benevolence. It was the epicenter of political infighting. Every move carried a targeted meaning, an investment—not a donation.
Aaron set those thoughts aside as he straightened his Imperial uniform, then opened his apartment door and stepped outside. His pistol remained securely strapped to his waist; he rarely left it behind. Though Kuat was relatively safe, it was still one of the most coveted targets for rebel attacks.
He wouldn't take any chances—after all, he only had one shot at life.
Waiting outside was an Imperial LAVr QH-7 Chariot, redesigned for improved protection rather than communications. Originally built to transport commanders and officers on active battlefields, at Kuat it had been adapted for the transport of high-ranking officials.
Two stormtroopers stood guard—one wearing a white pauldron, the other black. Lux and one of the sergeants.
"So Catcher assigned you to my detail, eh?" Aaron asked Lux as he passed the pair and climbed into the vehicle, where an armored pilot sat ready.
"The Captain deemed your protection important enough for two officers, sir," Lux replied as Aaron settled into his seat. The two stormtroopers followed inside.
"Will you depart once I enter the compound?" Aaron asked Lux.
Lux shook his head. "No, Lieutenant. We'll remain in position until your departure. Your protection package covers all time spent outside your residence."
Aaron nodded. The heavy speeder accelerated, heading toward the more luxurious sections of the city.
Silence fell over the vehicle as it proceeded toward Senator Lok's residence, arriving a few minutes later. Aaron stepped out.
The speeder was allowed through the gates, so Lux and the sergeant remained inside, their duties primarily focused on transportation.
Aaron crossed the parking lot and headed for the elevator.
The mansion sat atop an elevated platform at the compound's highest point. The compound itself was shaped like an apartment complex—but this building was anything but cheap.
Tall walls surrounded the compound, which Lux had described as guarded by seventy stormtroopers posted along the walls and another twenty-five patrolling the apartments.
The building rose approximately twenty-five stories, each level effectively its own villa—complete with baths, bars, multiple toilets, and every luxury imaginable.
Aaron had checked the building's profile on his DataPad. It seemed most of the important Imperials who frequently visited Kuat lived here: six senators, four planetary governors, a Moff, and fourteen other officials from departments like I.I., ISB, Imperial Archives, Imperial Research, and the Military.
Upon reaching the main compound, Aaron entered the elevator and took it to the top floor—the senator's residence.
Why Senator Lok had the top floor, Aaron had no clue. After all, he wasn't the highest-ranking Imperial living in the compound.
As the elevator doors slid open, Aaron took in the scene. It was exactly what he had expected.
Soft classical music played in the background. Servants moved about with trays of beverages, mostly alien, while guests mingled in lively groups.
Even so, Aaron felt momentarily lost as he entered, scanning the crowd for Vice-Admiral Corr or any familiar commodores. But luck was not on his side.
After realizing no known faces were present, Aaron sighed quietly and made his way to the bar, ordering the Star Wars equivalent of a cocktail. He settled into a chair, eyes scanning the room, trying to decipher the social dynamics.
The senators seem clustered together, he thought, observing two aliens and two humans in lavish attire speaking with a man in a greyish-red outfit, likely from Imperial Intelligence.
Similarly, the planetary governors were grouped, while the Moff conversed with what appeared to be the Kuat Fleet Admiral and the Sector Fleet Admiral.
The military factions seemed to have banded together, navy officers in uniform grouped in several clusters. In a corner, ISB agents spoke quietly among themselves.
But this knowledge did Aaron little good. He was familiar with politics—at least the basics from the academy and his peers—but he couldn't simply approach a group that out-ranked him. Which was every group in the room.
He realized he was effectively locked to his seat. He couldn't initiate contact; others would have to approach him.
Then luck intervened. Across the room, someone noticed Aaron at the bar and decided to approach the newcomer.
"So, you're Admiral Corr's hidden ace?" came a voice, as Aaron kept his composure, focusing on his freshly served cocktail.
The individual made no effort to conceal their intention. Aaron had seen them coming from miles away—perhaps light years was more appropriate.
"I wouldn't call myself his ace. He extended an olive branch, and I took it. Here I am," Aaron replied, as the person sat beside him, turning to face him.
"Hannah Tyrren, at your service," she said.
Aaron took a good look at her. She wore a light grey uniform and had blonde hair. Her eyes were a striking mix of light blue and brown.
She had a pleasing figure—an hourglass shape, with curves particularly pronounced below the waist. Her chest was large enough to fill Aaron's hands, at least in his estimation.
Though the Navy uniform was meant to be slim and fairly straight, it fit most naval officers more like a tight T-shirt layered over another, given the thin fabric.
"Aaron Rysell. And I'm guessing, based on your uniform, Imperial Intelligence or Naval Intelligence?" Aaron asked.
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