Star Wars: Episode 9: Light Paths

Chapter XLV

He was at his usual dice table, prodigiously placing bets and orders. For almost a decade now he'd come to Canto Bight about every ten days. Sometimes he made new contacts or deals, other times he just gambled.

He was usually in no rush. Mister Lis - The Hacker - had a luxury that the other spies and brokers didn't; he was wealthy almost beyond need. Most of the private operatives here were bottom feeders of sorts, mediating and trading between the more highly placed casino patrons.

The Hacker himself was a highly placed casino patron, with no benefactor to report to. Well, there was also his wife, who had her own independently earned riches. She never came to Canto Bight, but she never protested Mister Lis' visits to it. Her marriage to him was actually in large part a strategic union, made specifically because of his Canto resources.

He was usually in no rush, but for the last two years, he had certainly felt more anxious.

It was just over two years ago that he'd been approached by First Order Lieutenant Halese with a very intriguing offer to sell him plans for hyperspace plotting technology. She was supposed to meet him here whenever her research had finished. He hadn't expected it to take nearly this long.

He hadn't even ever gotten an update.

Perhaps she'd been restationed from the Navy Yard where the plotting tech was in development, or perhaps she'd been found out and executed. Maybe she'd become a loyalist to the Order. Maybe she'd lost interest.

But with the money he'd agreed to pay, most people wouldn't lose interest in such a deal. It wasn't standard for him to fret so over an informant. The thing was, her information, if legitimate, was groundbreaking - intelligence of the highest value.

"Like to raise, Mr. Lis?" The stickman said.

"Sure."

Just as he was about to roll, a paige came to his ear. "You have a delivery, sir."

He gave his bet to the elated couple next to him and left the table.

The paige escorted him to a lapdance booth. Here, no lapdance would be had. It was just an arrangement of Mr. Lis'. On a burgundy cushion inside the booth was a small carbonite case, engraved with his wife's royal coat of arms.

He went out to the valet and had his speeder retrieved. It took a few minutes longer than was standard. The casino staff seemed to be preoccupied with some kerfuffle down the way. Security guards were rushing toward the hills.

The valet came back with Lis' speeder and a smile. (The valet knew the customarily sizeable tip in store.)

Lis loaded a generous amount of credits into the gratuity port. "What's going on down there?"

"Someone let a herd of fathiers loose, Mr. Lis."

Lis chuckled, "Don't you get into the thick of that," and hit the throttle.

Back on his personal transport, and after having scanned for bugs, he opened the box with a key that only he had.

Inside was a transmission disk. He loaded it into one of the astromech droids and all that it projected was a code-in request.

"What is your fabulous cloak made of?" a recorded voice asked.

Lis recognized it immediately, and unfortunately. He responded, "Bespin silk."

The code was accepted and the projection flickered repeatedly, flashing "PACKAGE 264" and a progress bar, then loading visual graphics of technical writing and designs.

It was the lightspeed plotting formula, taylored for X-wings.

He'd relay this to Maz Kanata as soon as she could accept it. She was currently mediating some union dispute across the galaxy. She was the one who could most assuredly get these plans into the hands of the Resistance.

Halese was supposed to have brought these to him personally, and collect her fortune.

Lis uttered quietly and with great sadness, "May the Force be with you, Captain Halese."

But he did not know for certain if it could help her at this point. She might very well be dead. The most plausible reason that she'd not come to receive her pay for this intel was that she'd been foud out.

Captain Halese, once only a bright and disgruntled mercenary, had now forgone any monetary reward, and had likely become a martyr.