Trouble Personified
She sat cross-legged beside a low-mounted antenna array, her portable terminal balanced across her knees. A soft blue glow lit up her face in faint pulses as data scrolled past the screen, lines of code flowing steadily under her fingertips. She worked without haste, without worry, just... focus. This was her rhythm now.
A hooded jacket concealed most of her silhouette, but the weight at her belt was unmistakable. The lightsaber was there, hidden beneath layers of fabric and utility gear.
Vess didn’t think about it often, not anymore. The Hidden Path. The years spent threading through old halls and abandoned temples, listening to grand plans. Hope was a currency there just like fear had been before. But even then, she’d felt it. That quiet undercurrent. Like they were all passengers on a ship no one really knew how to sail.
She didn’t leave angry. Didn’t leave clean, either. Just… drifted. Like always. In some ways she did miss it, but she shook her head it was time to focus.
Her gaze flicked to the vault across the street a low-slung fortress buried into the bones of a repurposed water plant. Not corporate, not government. Private sector, deep net. A data house that traded in secrets too old or ugly to be useful until someone decided they were again.
“Lily, you getting my feed?” she murmured into the comm clipped to her collar, eyes narrowing as fresh telemetry synced across her screen. “Spike should sync once you reach the mainframe node. Slot it and step back. If it sparks, it’s just me slicing.”
The job wasn’t a smash-and-grab. Not exactly. They weren’t after credits or weapons. Tonight’s prize was quieter: archival telemetry, encrypted transaction records, and a full client list from a private broker who specialized in restricted hyperlane maps. Someone had paid a lot to make sure those lanes stayed hidden. Someone else was paying more to make sure they didn’t.
She exhaled slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll keep you clean on cams and floorplan just don’t trip any alarms This rig can spoof heat signatures and mag-locks but not dumb luck.”
A brief flicker on her screen warned her of an incoming signal.
“Oh, and Lily?” Vess leaned slightly forward, smirking as she keyed in a new string. “Try not to get shot. I’m billing extra if I have to remote-fly your corpse out.”
She cracked her knuckles, posture relaxing again as the signal solidified.
Time to work.
TAG:
Lily Rhodes
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