"...had the slicers working on it for three weeks, but it's a rolling code," the Rodian Chief of Communications was explaining apologetically in heavily-accented Basic. "It re-writes itself every time it sends. The key to the changing algorithm is somewhere in the previous communication, but without the key to that one, we have no way to reference it."
"How long?" Leia said simply, in no mood for excuses.
"I'm sorry, we just don't know. If we could break one key--just one key--then we could eventually decipher everything after it. But we have no point of reference and the comms are very short, so there's little to go on. And it was transmitting by splicing itself within existing messages...routine communications between the fleet. There could be dozens more that we simply didn't pick up, ones that weren't auto-archived. Any break in the order would break the key sequence and put us straight back to square one."
"Thank you, Chief," Mothma acknowledged. "Please keep trying, I'm sure we don't need to emphasize the importance of this."
"Or the importance of keeping it classified, for now," Leia added, not wishing word of the fact that Luke was even implicated to leak out.
She handed the bagged comlink back over to the apologetic Rodian and turned on Madine. "And just why were you rifling through Luke's possessions anyway?"
"We've..." Mon hesitated, and Leia braced herself for some new blow. "Commander Skywalker was listed among the dead, Leia. After the Battle of Hoth."
Leia blanched. "What?"
Madine made to speak, but Mon held up a hand to silence him, wanting this to come from her. "He was Missing in Action, presumed dead. That's why his container was being emptied; that's how we found the comlink. It was passed back on to the Communications Chief for reassignment. He was running refurb tests on it when he spotted something."
Leia just gazed at Mon, unable to take anything more in.
"When did Luke first get in contact with you after Hoth?" Mon finally prompted, voice gentle.
Leia struggled to remember, it seemed a lifetime ago. "We...the Falcon's hyperdrive failed whilst we were still in the Hoth System. We limped to the Anoat System on main drive, but it took weeks. Then we were waiting for parts and I didn't trust Lando enough to risk contacting you beyond that one message. I think...maybe...five weeks, seven perhaps?"
"He didn't come back, Leia," Mon said gently. "He never rejoined the fleet."
"...Where was he...?" It was all she could think to say.
"That's what we'd like to know," Madine murmured ominously.
"Did he say anything to you about where he'd been?" Mon pushed. "Anything at all?"
"No, I assumed he'd come because of the message I sent to you..." Leia trailed off. How had he known where they were, if he hadn't been with the fleet to hear her message? "Why would he come to Bespin at all if he was an Imperial agent? Why like that?"
"We think...we think he may have had a specific mission," Madine said.
"What?"
Mon paused, glancing at Madine, then, "We think it may have been you, Leia. Or all of us--the Chiefs of Staff."
"Me?" Her heart skipped a beat in persecution at that--in true betrayal.
Madine stepped forward. "Think! If he could pass you, one of the ringleaders of the Alliance, over to his superiors, then still appear to break your companions out, he would be able to return to us with his cover intact. Maybe even pick up a second...certainly keep on passing information."
Leia shook her head. "They already had me."
"But they didn't have a method of his returning to the Alliance," Madine said.
"Why did he need one? He could have just come back straight after Hoth."
"Not if he'd been shadowing the Falcon in his X-wing. He was one of the very last ships to leave, very close to the time you did. And coincidentally the Imperial fleet abandoned the blockade to come after you--after the Falcon. Solo had already sent a comm transmission saying he'd get you out on the Falcon. It was on a coded frequency, but anyone with Alliance command codes could have picked that up, known which transport you were on, and passed it to the Imperial Fleet, Skywalker included."
Leia struggled to think it through; to point out the flaws. "If he'd been shadowing the damaged Falcon he could have reported our position at any time. The Empire could have picked us up weeks before."
"We don't have all the answers, Leia," Madine admitted. "Maybe he'd docked with one of the Star Destroyers which gave chase then lost you. He could have made the decision to hunt you down at that point, using his knowledge of Captain Solo as a starting point, knowing you couldn't get back to the Alliance quickly. You said yourself that Cloud City belonged to a friend of Solo's. We think Skywalker might have known Solo's associates too. Given that and your position when the fleet lost you, plus the fact that you had no hyperdrive, he could have easily worked it out." Madine tilted his head just slightly. "Or do you have a better explanation of how he just found you again after seven weeks?"
"They injured him--badly," Leia said. "On Bespin. Vader...cut off Luke's hand. Do you do that to one of your own?"
Mon turned in silence to Madine, but his expression softened not a whit. "Did you see the injury?"
"Yes I saw it! I treated it onboard the Falcon."
Madine considered a moment, eyes skipping across the ground. "Was it bleeding?"
"What?" Leia scowled.
"Was it fresh--how badly was it bleeding?"
Leia was speechless for long seconds, then, "It...it wasn't. It was...burnt."
"Cauterized?" Madine prompted.
"What are you getting at?"
"I'm asking if it was a fresh wound, or simply an old injury made to look new. Believe me, a severed limb hemorrhages...badly. However, if you simply removed the prosthesis from an old wound it would look--"
"It wasn't an old wound! It didn't bleed because Vader used a lightsaber."
"I think that very convenient," Madine countered.
"You think, we think..." Leia countered, set on edge by his behavior. "We seem to be thinking a lot of things. But until you can prove he was using that comlink and until you can prove that he was the agent, I think I'm within my rights to question this, don't you?"
"Leia, please..." Mon started forward, always the voice of reason.
Leia turned and stormed out, tired and irritable and defensive. Pursued every step of the way by her own unspoken doubts.
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Luke stared at Commander Jade over the top of his hard-copy book, reflecting that he needed to get to know his jailor. Needed to know how she thought, how she'd react under pressure, what she'd call him on and what she'd let pass.
He was, very pointedly, never left alone anymore except when he slept. There was always someone 'in attendance' as they described it, despite the hidden surveillance lenses. Sometimes a guard or two, occasionally a man of Han's age named Commander Reece, another plain-clothes agent like Jade, but mostly the Commander herself, much to her obvious frustration. The only time he was left alone was when he retired for the night, at which point the huge reinforced double-doors to the bedroom were locked and the dozen or so guards took up residence in the drawing room outside. But the lenses kept watching, of that much he was sure.
And always in the morning, Red would return early, fazing up the privacy blackout in the monofilament-threaded windows whether he was awake or not, then settling on the seat to gaze out in silence over the distant city as he rose and dressed.
Always there. Never armed any more, but always carrying an open comlink to the guards outside, any incoming reports restricted to her earpiece.