Agent of the Rain

Agent Zwy is already on Dromund Kaas when the priority command comes. Extraction of information from Imperial Intelligence. Immediate. She memorizes the name she’s give, saying it over and over in her mind. Nosa Inculpe. She spells the name to herself as she destroys her burner comms unit. No record. Transmitting any data she retrieves will be the easy part.

Reviewing the Coalitions’ observations of officers and intel workers going in and out of Sith Intelligence, she finds a few Watchers who have not been clocked leaving yet. She picks one quickly with the most scientific of processes. “Eeny, meeny, miney, moe…”

Quickly, in a dirty motel she paid for with untraceable creds, Zwy changes in her delivery uniform. It’s tighter than it needs to be. Zwy is already slender and fit, but she has to suck in to wriggle her butt into the jumpsuit. If they are looking at the fit, they aren’t watching her hands. She affixes a name tag that she made that matches a pair of false credentials she has prepared. She rolls her eyes at the name. “Alma Adama? Who comes up with this poodoo?”

It takes her a few minutes to do her make-up to conceal her complexion. No freckles. She pops in colored contacts. Blue eyes? Sure. Let’s hope the guards likes blue. A blonde wig instead of her auburn hair. Everyone loves a blonde. Is it true blondes have more fun? Guess she’ll find out.

It’s a short walk in the rain to her mark. Long enough to get her jumpsuit a little wet. Her umbrella held perfectly covers her face, making sure makeup doesn’t run but allows a little moisture to roll down to her strategically presented cleavage.

Arriving at Sith Intelligence, she strides confidently and bubbly. Zwy immediately approaches the nearest guards, asking meekly, “Hiya. I’m here to deliver a,” she pretends to struggle looking up like she’s trying to remember some words instructed her by her boss. “Sorry… a priority hand delivered communique for Watcher Sixteen. Can you point me in his direction?”

The guards either take pity or seem to like her confused attention. She’s so dumb, she must be harmless. One escorts her, just to be safe, all the way to Watcher Sixteen’s office. The Watcher absently dismisses the guard as Zwy enters and presents the packet. She smiles and just stands there, as if waiting for instructions.

“Well?” The Watcher asks.

“You’re… um… supposed to take this from me? Boss said… well he said I have to,” she mimics a man’s voice with some hypertrophy on the serious nature of the instructions. “Put the package in Watcher Sixteen’s hand and then wait for his response. So… um… here.” She extends a small envelope.

The nice thing about Watchers? They ain’t Ciphers. Ciphers can take a kick to the head. As the Watcher takes the envelope full of coupons, he goes down. Zwy doses him with the sedative she was hiding and immediately drags the Watcher to his desk chair and begins to access his terminals. “Easy part is done.” She searches for anything she can on Nosa Inculpe. She only has four minutes before someone gets suspicious. Maybe less.