Last Chance: Myn and Lara - pt. 11


After his workout, and a quick shower in the gym's well-equipped communal refresher, he made his way back to his room, to dry and dress for the morning's appointment with the overly-friendly woman from the tapcaf, Orine Vaylla.

The little restaurant served a fairly select clientele, but in his simple slacks and white button-up shirt topped with a dark brocade vest (which he'd not worn since the last time he was home), Myn actually fit in surprisingly well. Orine raised an appreciative brow as she scanned his understated appearance.

She was dressed more conservatively this morning, her heavy mane of dark hair upswept and tied back in a flattering style, and her arms covered by a dark red blouse over a flowing black skirt. She wore an ivory-toned sweater over the whole ensemble, and looked for all the world like someone's personal assistant, or an office aide. She had taken the liberty of ordering caf and pastries for the two of them to share, and Myn added a small breakfast order to that: a single egg, a few sausages and toast. He'd missed the spicier Corellian sausages since joining the New Republic, and was not likely to let an opportunity go by without sampling some.

They chatted amiably as they awaited their food, each subtly testing the other as they sipped at their caf and enjoyed the early morning sun that filtered in over the balcony's rails. The view was of Coronet City's inner harbour, and the sunlight created rippled reflections on the stone walls that lined the harbour opposite their perspective. Once their meals were brought, and a carafe of sunfruit juice added at the last minute, Myn activated the sound-proofing field that was a selling feature of this very discreet establishment, and they began to converse in earnest.

"You and others have hinted that you have been a victim of extortion, at the hands of Corellian Security personnel," Myn began directly. "I want you to tell me all the details of the coercion you have experienced from CorSec officers."

"And how do I know this isn't a test of some kind, that I'm not going to end up on the wrong side of a tough customer some day soon, as a direct result of this interview?" she asked brusquely, a frown creasing the smooth line of her brow.

She actually looks smarter when she does that, Myn thought, but he answered her question without hesitation. "I'm not in this precinct. These aren't my friends we're talking about here. The abuses you and Rij and Axel have hinted at reflect poorly on the whole Agency, and that's just not right."

"A CorSec officer with some concern for the rightness of things," she remarked wryly, "However oddly skewed. No, it's not right, it's also illegal, but we're the voiceless little people of this world, let's be honest about this. Even if you manage to snare some of the guys doing this stuff, what's to stop their buddies from hunting me down after the fact?" She glanced over her shoulder, and Myn caught the furtive flash of her eyes as she scanned every other guest of the restaurant before meeting his gaze again.

His face settled into a very serious expression. "To tell you the truth, Miss Vaylla, I can't guarantee that that won't happen, even if you don't tell me a thing. I have no intention of stopping my investigations now, even if you refuse to give me any information at all, but we have likely already been seen together. I am afraid that no matter what you decide to do, you may be implicated simply by associated. I'll do everything I can to nail all the perpetrators, but I can't guarantee your safety. I'm sorry."

The professional escort answered his solemn face with a nibble of her lip, and then a cautious smile. "Well, you have a point there. What can I tell you?"

"I need to know when it began, and if there are just specific officers involved, or if it's more pandemic... that sort of thing."

As she answered each of his questions Myn watched her carefully, and pursued lines of questioning that she seemed reticent to discuss, until he'd established a fairly decent picture of the abuse of power. Once she had relaxed and begun to trust him, the words began to flow more easily, and the story poured out of her, her anger adding impetus to her words.

"It's not like what I'm doing is illegal," she commented, pulling a small packet from her clutch, "There're all my papers, my certifications as a hetaera and sexual counsellor, my Corellian Comfort Services license: everything, even my medical exam certifications. I operate one-hundred percent within the law. I pay my taxes, damn it!"

He couldn't deny his shock that such services as she offered had been legalised to this extent since his last visit home, but he'd been raised in a much more provincial part of Corellia, and things were sure to be different in a large city served by its own spaceport. He disguised his discomfiture with a scan over the packet of documents she offered up for his inspection. As Myn soothed the angry young woman, he glanced over her papers, scanning dates and thumbprints as though he knew what he was looking at.

Orine accepted the return of her papers with a sniffle, and quickly made an excuse to visit the ladies fresher to regain her composure. As he waited, Myn considered all the information she'd given him so far.

Pervasive was a good word to describe the situation. As evidenced by the assumptions about him made by Rij, Axel and Orine, nearly every local patrolling officer and at least three of the supervising staff were implicated in the crimes Orine detailed for him. She'd been required to pay in credits and services, including one office party held at the precinct office.

Fortunately, the corruption did not seem to go further up the chain of command, which Myn found to be something of a relief. This way, he may not have to be proving higher-ranking officers guilty of the crimes Orine had described, which would have been sure to bring his assumed identity under too much scrutiny to bear. He needed to come up with a strategy to deal with that eventuality, but it appeared to be less of a threat than he had at first feared.

For Orine, the squeeze had been escalating in recent weeks, and that wasn't a problem now, at the height of the tourism season. But later in the year, when she was forced to rely on local clientele only, she worried about being able to keep up with the illicit tax on her work. Myn had no solutions to offer her, other than to reassure her that he would do everything in his power to fix the situation before his leave was up.

"And when will that be?" she had asked.

"I have another two and a half weeks," he'd replied, although the actual allotment he'd been given was somewhat longer.

As he thought about that exchange, he recalled the lightening flash of a question in her eyes, but she'd not asked anything further on that topic. He wondered what she'd wanted to ask him, but after a few minutes of considering, he still had no idea. He ordered a refill of their caf mugs, and paid for their meal, but when she rejoined him, she begged off joining him for a final cup.

"I'm sorry, I really should go. Thanks for buying. You still have my card, if there's anything else you need, you just call, alright?" She swung her dark grey cloak over her back and gave him another sidelong coy look, "And I do mean anything."

Myn gave a nod and a small smile, but his attention was distracted from her words by the swirl of the cloak as she settled it over her shoulders and moved away from their table, leaving him to finish his caf in peace. He knew he'd seen that particular shade of grey before, and he recalled feeling that same disquiet upon seeing her at his door last night.

He sipped the hot drink and considered carefully all the times he had seen the young woman before today. Last night at my room; earlier, at the Crater...on the street...!

The revelation hit him like a brick between the eyes. He'd seen the cloak on the street as he was exploring the section of the city after checking in at the Crater the first time. It wasn't that the style and colour were particularly popular this year, he was sure that, in his several hours of wandering the city he'd only seen the one Orine Vaylla wore, but he'd seen it on a few occasions in that short a time, always somewhat on the periphery of his vision, or reflected in the transparisteel of a display window...

Was she following him?

Why? What possible reason could Orine Vaylla, self-proclaimed Comfort Services free-lancer, have for following him around Coronet City?

The sun had moved from its reflective position over the harbour, and the water had changed from a crystalline blue to an odd, inscrutable green. Myn swirled his caf in his cup, biting the inside of his cheek in careful consideration, but he was no closer to an answer. The caf had cooled and lost its appeal as he pushed his seat back from the small table and made his way down to the street.

He slipped his shades over his eyes as he stepped into the direct sunlight, unable to still the roil of his thoughts.

~*~


part 12

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