THE JEDI ORDER WAS more than an unpaid police force, more than just an exercise club that was into metaphysics. It was a way of life, based on the Jedi Code—and a lot of rules for living that weren’t in the Code, that had been tacked on later. One was that Jedi avoided becoming involved in romantic relationships. Once on the run, Kanan Jarrus had found that rule pretty easy to forget about.

Hera’s visit here, now, wasn’t any kind of date—but she was a lovely woman wanting a private conversation, and from his earlier experiences he knew just the spot. The Asteroid Belt had a nice, secluded table in the back where the light was just right and where you were out of the stumbling line of the drunks and the brawlers.

But never in his past visits to the table had he brought along a short, gray chaperone—and Zaluna was talking more with Hera than he was. After being sent to the bar for something for the third time by Hera, Kanan had started to suspect that the Twi’lek really had come here looking for Zaluna after all, and not him.

The two were chatting closely when Kanan returned to the table with the coasters Hera had requested. It was time to step things up. “You can stop talking about how much you miss me, ladies—I’m back!”

“Great,” Hera said, in a tone that, for the first time, wasn’t music to Kanan’s ears. She seemed annoyed at having been interrupted, but he wasn’t going to let that deter him.

Looking down, he saw that the chair he’d been sitting in was pushed well away from the table, out into the aisle. Hera’s foot had pushed it there, he realized. So much for gratitude over being saved. “Standing room only tonight,” he said, grabbing the chair and chuckling. “Good thing nobody else grabbed this.”

“Good thing,” Hera repeated.

Kanan spun the chair around backward and straddled it as he sat down, putting his chest against the back of the chair and crossing his arms over the top of it—a move intended to bring him fully into the conversation. “So what’d I miss?”

Hera looked at him with impatience—until Zaluna reached out and touched her hand. “I think you can trust him. I’ve watched him longer than you have. He helps people—though he makes a show of doing otherwise. He stood up to Vidian just today.”

“I saw,” Hera said.

“You did?” Kanan asked, slack-jawed.

Hera seemed to fret. “It’s still not smart. You protect secrets by keeping the circle small.”

“And you protect yourself by having a witness,” Zaluna said. “I’ve been a professional witness my whole life. If we’re really going to discuss this, I’d like one now.” She regarded Kanan. “He’ll do.”

Kanan slumped in his chair and shrugged. “I’ll do.” What’s going on here?

Hera seemed to reach a decision. She leaned across the table, her hands clasped together. “All right. I’d come here to meet this guy I met on the HoloNet—”

“Oh, well, there’s your first mistake,” Kanan proclaimed. “I could have told you—”

But before he could finish his sentence, Hera flashed Kanan a smile that was only slightly patronizing. “Can it wait?”

Mildly chastened, Kanan shut his mouth.

“I was looking for a man named Hetto. He and Zaluna both work for a company with a surveillance contract for the Empire. Hetto had grown worried about what he saw as abuses of authority—and he had already been in contact with other…concerned parties.”

Kanan could tell from the way Hera pronounced the words that she didn’t want to elaborate too much about that. But she did say that it was Hetto she was supposed to have met until his arrest changed that.

“He was arrested for trying to meet you,” Zaluna said, shaking her head.

“It wasn’t just that,” Hera said, sounding soothing. “You know that. Hetto was aware, Zaluna. Awake to all the things the Empire is doing. This meeting? It was him reaching out, trying to do something. You were brave to take it on yourself, to finish what he started.”

“I’m not brave,” Zaluna said, her voice a little shaky. “I’m an old fool. I remember too much. I remember how it was—and how it got worse, even before the Empire. I remember when people didn’t kill guildmasters on a whim and walk away without a thought.” Her black eyes glistened. “And I remember when my people were safe. Those employees of mine are my children, and now one of them’s in deep trouble.” She focused on Hera. “Will they kill Hetto?”

Hera didn’t seem to know what to say. Zaluna closed her huge eyes, mournful. Kanan reached out and patted her hand. “Hey, there, maybe your friend’s just in a labor camp.”

“Kanan is right,” Hera said, a phrase he thought sounded wonderful coming from her, whether she meant it or not. “Hetto is a talented person, and they’ll want to keep him around, maybe even doing work like he is now. Just someplace else.”

“Yeah, and maybe they even have daylight there,” Kanan said. He smiled awkwardly at Hera and shrugged.

Recovering her composure, Zaluna reached into her bag and pulled out a data cube. It was bigger than the storage device Kanan had seen Skelly waving around. “This is what Hetto wanted you to have.” She peered up at Hera. “You know what’s on it?”

“I think so,” Hera said. She reached into a pocket and withdrew a small reading device. “May I?”

Zaluna paused, suddenly reluctant. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the moment.” Glancing all around the bar, she took a deep breath. “It’s exciting, almost, being on this side of the cams. You wonder who else is here.”

“There’s no Imperial agents here, if that’s what you’re asking,” Kanan said. He looked back across the room. “These are all one hundred percent pure shovel-carrying drunkards. I’ve tussled with too many of them to think they’re plants for the Empire.”

Hera looked at him. “And what do you think about the Empire?”

“As little as possible,” he said. “I could take it or leave it.”

“Hmm.”

She sounded disappointed, Kanan thought, but only a little. Clearly, Hera was politically aware; he knew the sort, having wooed a university woman or ten on more upscale worlds. But those women had all aggressively tried to get him to care about their causes of the week. Hera was letting him be, at least for the moment. Good for her.

“You can look at it,” Zaluna finally decided, offering the data cube. “That’s what Hetto wanted. But—maybe you’d better give it right back afterward. Okay?”

“Okay,” Hera said. Taking it, she plugged it into her device and began reading. Kanan saw her eyes widening as she read, and he realized she was savoring something wonderful.

“Juicy stuff?”

“Mm-hmm.” She manipulated the device for several minutes. “This is huge. It’s not just the information—it’s how it was retrieved. The Empire is everywhere.”

“But not omniscient,” Zaluna said. “Eyes and ears can fail.” She nodded to what Hera was holding. “Study that long enough, and you’d see where they fall short.”

“This section here. What are these names?”

Zaluna examined what Hera was looking at and cleared her throat. “That’s different. Those are all the requests made on the Imperial channel to the Transcept database. People they’re interested in. Background checks, video files being pulled.”

Kanan took a peek as Hera paged through lists of names. He still couldn’t believe any of this business was real.

“I think Hetto was downloading right up until a few minutes before he was arrested,” Zaluna said. “There are some really recent ones in there.”

Hera pointed to a name. “What’s this very last one—Lemuel Tharsa?”

“That’s one of the command-level requests from the Star Destroyer. Somebody important wanted to know about him.”

“Command level? Like the captain? Or Count Vidian?”

“I suppose.”

“And who is Lemuel Tharsa?”

“The name doesn’t sound familiar,” Zaluna said. She took the cube and reader from Hera and ran a search. “Someone by that name did visit the planet twenty years ago—someone started a file on him, at least. No details, though.”

“Why would they be looking for someone like that?” Hera asked.

“No idea. Sorry there’s not more—back in the commercial surveillance days, there were more legal limits to tracking.” Zaluna passed the cube and reader back to Hera. “Of course, I probably saw the guy back then, if it was even the same person. Maybe something will jog my memory.”

Kanan chuckled. “Well, you people spy on millions of people. I wouldn’t expect you to—”

“Kanan Jarrus, human male, early twenties,” Zaluna said, looking up at him. “Freighter pilot, dangerous cargo. Flight clearance seven. Emigrated to Gorse five months ago from—”

Kanan grabbed her wrist. “Okay, you’re spooky. I get it.” His mouth went dry, and he reached for his drink.

“This is good,” Hera said, detaching the reader and passing the data cube back to the woman. “Very good, very worth Hetto’s sacrifice—and yours. May I have it long enough to copy it? I’m busy with the reason I’m here, but for this, I’d make time.”

Kanan’s eyebrow went up. “I thought meeting her was the reason you were here.”

Hera looked at him kindly. “Kanan, I appreciate what you did for me back in Shaketown—and also your hosting us here. But I’ve done all I’m going to do to satisfy your curiosity, so—”

“Oh, no!”

Hera and Kanan looked at Zaluna.

“He’s here,” the Sullustan woman said, looking into the crowd. “Why would he be here, now?”

Kanan looked around, but could only see the bustling patrons. “What? Who’s here?”

“What is it, Zaluna?” Hera asked, worried. “The Empire?”

Having already made a decision, Zaluna stuffed the data cube into her bag and stood. “This is too much. I have to go.” She turned from the table and headed for the side door. “Good-bye!”

Kanan and Hera looked at each other, puzzled—until they became aware of a figure in a tan overcoat standing nearby.

“Kanan! Just the guy I’m looking for,” Skelly said, peering out from beneath his hood. “And I see you’ve met my friend!”