RIS Office
The office had settled into a rhythm with him alone in it as keys clicked, datapads humming, and the quiet scratch of the stylus when he needed to sketch out connections. Cassian stylus moved about in the away of circling names and drawing arrows across the datapad. He pushed one report aside, then another, until his desk resembled less a workspace and more a tactical map. Red markers denoted compromised convoys, black noted suspicious clearances, and blue highlighted names with potential access. He leaned forward, elbows braced against the edge, studying the grid until the shapes blurred. The fatigue crept in around the edges of his concentration, but he ground it down with a steady breath. Rest could come later.
A soft hiss from the office's cooling system reminded him how still the night was. Through the tall windows, the lights of Theed glowed faintly, but the river below was quiet, reflecting starlight in broken ripples. Beyond the walls, Naboo slept, unaware of the danger gnawing at its foundations. Cassian pressed his palm against the desk, anchoring himself in the present. If the leak continued unchecked, he wondered how far it could reach.
He returned to the flagged courier log, eyes narrowing. The operative's name appeared again, tucked into routine clearance for a shuttle that never should have diverted. The same hand, subtle but consistent. Whoever it was, they weren't sloppy, they wanted the trail buried under layers of the mundane. Cassian found himself murmuring under his breath, as though testing the shape of the betrayal aloud.
"Too neat. Too careful. You knew someone would look, didn't you?"
No answer came, save the echo of his own voice against the office walls. He tapped the stylus against the desk and began cross-referencing every clearance that passed through that operative's hand in the last month. Patterns emerged, cargo shipments that aligned a little too closely with known Black Sun raids, schedules altered by just enough hours to let ambushers prepare.
Cassian's jaw tightened. He felt the weight of duty settle heavier on his shoulders, but there was no room for anger. Anger blurred vision. He needed clarity, precision. The work demanded it.
Another datapad chimed with incoming reports. He silenced it without looking away from the growing map before him. He had already crossed the line from late night into early morning, and he knew he would remain until the first rays of dawn broke across the Theed skyline. Sleep was a luxury. Truth was a necessity.
The first touch of dawn came quietly, slipping through the high windows in pale streaks of gold. It caught on the marble floor, glinted off the edges of stacked datapads, and threw Cassian's drawn features into stark relief. He had not moved for some time, hunched over the sprawl of reports as though the weight of the entire Republic rested there in ink and light. The lamp above his desk flickered once before cutting out, its timer finally winning the argument. Cassian sat back slowly, the silence pressing heavier without its hum. His eyes burned, his shoulders ached, but his mind refused to let go of the threads he had pulled through the long hours. They did not yet form a rope, only frayed strands stretching in too many directions.
He closed one folder with deliberate care, stacking it neatly atop the rest. The gesture was almost ceremonial, a way of admitting that the night had given him little resolution. only more questions, more shadows to chase. Outside, Theed stirred faintly with the early morning bustle: the distant sound of waterborne markets opening, the soft toll of bells marking the hour. Cassian rose, moving stiffly, and crossed to the window. The river reflected the rising sun, its surface breaking into shards of light. For a moment, he allowed himself to breathe, to absorb the quiet beauty that Naboo still offered despite the dangers festering beneath it. Then, with a last glance at the mess of intelligence scattered across his desk, he turned away.
The work was unfinished, but it would not vanish with the sunrise. The leak remained, hidden and deliberate, daring him to uncover it. And though this night had yielded no breakthrough, Cassian knew he would return tonight, and the night after, until the web finally unraveled.
Duty and Honor demanded no less.
