Aleita Reidstar was standing on the railing of the command centre, looking down on the gallery. All the officers who had overseen the operation carried a satisfied grin. Another job well done, they were surely telling themselves. Aleita didn’t share in their celebration. Needing to resort to such measures was worrying in itself and she shivered at the thought of their near-sightedness, a trait shared by far too many members of the Federation. She didn’t doubt its resources, but if it only resorted to brute force and fear tactics, it would be no better than the Empire, or the short-lived First Order, and it too would fall.
   A more subtle dismantling effort involving the rise of internal distrust and hostility had been her proposed course of action, but the final vote had not been in her favour. The other members of the Board of Directors had wanted things handled quickly. They did not comprehend that quickly had never equated to effectively. Aleita now had this operation to finalise, keeping information contained and everyone under tight surveillance. If word got out about the Federation’s role in the bombings, it would hinder their standing with the Senate and require diplomatic resources to renegotiate agreements. It was infuriating enough to have to abide by some of the Senate’s stringent trade regulations, it was unnecessary to complicate matters further.
   “Have you finalised the list of survivors?” Aleita asked the nearest officer.
   “Nearly, Director,” the officer answered hastily, handing her a data pad. “Here are the preliminary names.”
   Aleita glanced at the list. Less than thirty, that was acceptable.
   “We’ve given the go ahead for the infiltration of the medical centre, as per your orders,” the young woman continued to report. “We only have nine unaccounted for. We’re tracking them as we speak.”
   Aleita nodded, staring at the names in red, the escaped survivors.
   “What of the Informant? Has he made contact?” Aleita asked.
   “He’s not answering his coms, Director,” the officer replied.
   It was unlikely that the Informant had been in any type of danger during the operation, and there were few other reasons why he wouldn’t be reporting in. He’d served his purpose well, but Aleita had never liked loose ends and certainly wouldn’t allow for one now. In fact, she liked things quite tidy.
   “Should I initiate a trace on him, Director?” the young woman continued hesitantly.
   “Add him to the list. Our cypher agents assigned to phase II will do an easy job of finding him.”
   “Right away, Director. Should I have them start their search on Coruscant?”
   Assumably, he wouldn’t have stayed on planet for very long, if he had been here at all. Nevertheless, better to begin at ground zero.
   “Yes. That will do,” Aleita confirmed. “I will be unavailable for the next hour. Ask the officers not to disturb me.”
   Retreating from the command centre, Aleita headed for the training facility. She needed to clear her mind, recalibrate, to make sure that nothing was being overlooked, and she did her best thinking in action. She tied her long jet black hair into a tight bun, changed into her training wear, and walked onto the mat. She stood facing the sparring droid, arms lifted, standing strong and perfectly still. She focused on it, taking a deep breath in, then a long, forceful breath out, letting everything around her melt away. With a swift motion, she unleashed against it. She pounded it from right to left, methodically going through series of stances and sequences mastered over years of repetition. Her brow started to glisten with the effort and her forearms were stinging from the repeated blows. Her mind was clearing, like a sea of calm from within a storm. She went through each step that had been accomplished and what remained to be executed to conclude the operation. She revisited the fine details and potential hints in the transactions she had overseen with the Informant. His silence was unexpected, which meant that she had missed something.
   With one forceful sweep of her leg, she toppled her sparing assistant. Stepping off the mat, she picked-up a towel to wipe the sweat from her face and grabbed the green juice waiting for her on the tray held out by the facility’s protocol droid. Refreshing and energising as expected. Back in her uniform, Aleita headed to the command centre, a discreet bitter sneer lining her grey-green eyes.

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