In Command (#1 Post-Order 66 Series)

In Command - Part 8

"I still don't like it, but if you're going, you're carrying this," he said, slipping a small device into her hand.

"A tracker? Really? How devious do you think this guy is, Rex? I've met more cunning bugs squashed on the bottom of my boots."

"Please just do this for me," he asked, his tone softening.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But no following me."

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Senna's pulse quickened as the officer's club came into view. The Lothal Landing was much more impressive than the last place Fisk had taken her to, but she had been dreading this encounter all day. Since it was a nicer establishment, she was wearing a long purple dress that dipped low in the back but covered the bruising on her neck fairly well. Rex had been distraught watching her try to cover it with makeup. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders again, and she wore gold bangles on her wrists. The tracker beacon Rex had made her carry was tucked discretely into the top of her dress. She would have normally placed it in a pocket, but Fisk had warned her of security checks at the doors. As she got closer, she saw Wen standing outside waiting for her, and her stomach turned. Ok, showtime.

"Wen, how are you?" she asked, leaning in for a hug.

"Better now, Valla. You are positively breathtaking in this dress." She felt him inhale into her hair, and goose bumps rose on her arms.

"Why thank you. I've never been to this place, but I've heard good things!"

"Some of the best food and cocktails in the system. The Empire ensures its officers are well treated here. A definitive perk if there ever was one. Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm.

She took it and he led her in through the main entrance. She held her breath again as the stormtrooper scanned her chain code to allow her in, but there was nothing to worry about. They passed through with barely any kind of security search. Wen led her to the upper deck that looked out over the city, ordering cocktails and entrees for them immediately without asking her. Sure, I guess that's what I'm eating then.

"So, no Lon again tonight? Is he out at another dive?" Fisk asked, hardly trying to veil his distaste.

"Yes, he is out doing something or other with his friends in town. I honestly didn't pay much attention when he said he was leaving."

The waiter droid brought out their first round of drinks, and Fisk raised his glass to her. "Well, here's to Lon then. Without him stepping out, I might not have gotten this evening with you."

She laughed lightly, reciprocating the toast. "To Lon."

They clinked glasses together. He stared at her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of the brown liquor in it. She fluttered her lashes at him. "What is it?"

"You're just so beautiful. I can't tell you how glad I am that you were able to meet me tonight. I'm going to be out of town for a little while, so this is the last chance I'll have to see you for a bit."

"Oh? Where are you heading?"

"A strategic defense conference for the Empire. It's being hosted in the capital city next week, and it's to be the largest one ever. I have the honor of giving a keynote speech on Lothal's strategic value for the Empire's long-term defense strategy."

"Well, that certainly sounds important," she said, trying to stoke his ego. "But, how are Lothal's resources useful to the defense side of things? I know our crops feed the troops, but your speech seems much more important than just farming."