Chapter 28 - Friendly Deceptions

  Lieutenant Thalina Veris adjusted the cuffs of her uniform for the third time, the fabric somehow feeling too tight despite its immaculate tailoring. The mirrored surface of the window in front of her reflected an image of controlled authority, the faint gleam of her rank insignia catching the artificial light. She sighed, pulling her gaze from her reflection. The polished exterior did little to quell the gnawing frustration simmering beneath her skin.

  The investigation on Darius Kallan had ground to a halt.

  Interviewing his co-workers and neighbours had been an exercise in futility; the man hadn’t been seen in any of his usual haunts, and looking into how he had subverted the freeze on his accounts led precisely nowhere.

  Even approaching the problem from the angle of the Freeholders wasn’t working – while investigation had shown that the group had been active and cohesive mere weeks ago had scattered like shadows in the sun, slipping into the cracks of the station and disappearing.

  Though consciously she knew it wasn’t her fault that the investigation had run into a wall, it was hard to shake the feeling that she had missed something, some vital piece of information that would solve everything. Hardly a new feeling – her teachers had all commented on her tendencies to take responsibility for things out of her control.

  Agent Falk didn’t seem bothered in the least by the lack of progress – though, admittedly, the closest she had ever seen the man get to an emotion was a vague acknowledgment that other people had them.

  Either way, it was incredibly frustrating. She had conducted dozens of interviews since Falk had handed her this assignment, and all had led to dead ends. Every interaction had been tinged with the same air of uncooperative disdain, the station workers regarding her as an unwelcome interruption to their routines.

  Her lips thinned as she entered the interview room for what would hopefully be her final task for the day.

  It was small and sterile, the kind of space designed to make anyone sitting opposite her feel boxed in. Finn Calder was already there, seated comfortably and with an air of ease that immediately drew her attention. He was younger than she’d expected—somewhere in his early thirties, maybe—with sandy hair that refused to stay completely tamed. His posture was casual but not disrespectful, and when he saw her, he offered a smile that was disarming in its sincerity.

  “Lieutenant Veris, I presume?” he asked, his voice warm. “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything more pressing.”

  The opening volley was so unexpectedly pleasant that it threw Veris off balance for half a second. She straightened her shoulders, returning his smile with a small, professional nod. “Thank you for coming in, Mr. Calder. This shouldn’t take long.”

  “Oh, take all the time you need,” he said lightly, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t mind helping out where I can.” He winked companionably. “Not to mention you’re getting me out of a particularly unpleasant refit right now.”

  The words startled a small huff of laughter out of her. She blinked and refocused, busying herself in sitting down opposite the man and bringing up the list of questions Agent Falk wanted her to ask.

  “You’ve been informed of the nature of this interview?” she asked once settled.

  “Something about one of my workers, right? Darius Kallan?”

  “That’s correct.” Thalina flicked through some of her personal notes. “You’ve worked with Mr. Kallan for several years now. Can you tell me about your professional relationship?”

  Finn tilted his head slightly, considering. “Not much to tell, honestly. ‘Professional’ sums it up pretty well, really. He’s a decent worker, good at his job when he’s focused. A little bit of a tendency to show up late, but that’s not exactly uncommon at the yards. He’s a quiet guy. Keeps to himself for the most part.”

  “You’re listed as his supervisor,” Veris said, keeping her voice even. “Would you say you’ve developed any sort of friendship with him outside of work?”

  “Friendship?” Finn repeated, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’ve tried to reach out here and there – you know, make him feel like part of the team – but he doesn’t seem all that interested in chatting about anything outside of tools and ships. Not that I blame him; some people just like their privacy.”

  Thalina studied him carefully, noting the openness in his expression and the easy relaxation in his posture. He didn’t seem to be stonewalling her—at least, not overtly. Still, his account didn’t entirely match what she’d been told. Then again, her source hadn’t exactly been reliable, and she’d already approached this lead with tempered expectations.

  “Has Mr. Kallan ever mentioned any political affiliations or personal grievances against the Empire?” she asked, watching his reaction closely.

  Finn’s smile dimmed slightly, his brows furrowing in thought. “No, not that I can think of. He’s not exactly the type to share his opinions on that kind of thing, at least not with me.” He hesitated for a beat, as if weighing his words. “I know he’s been hit with a bunch of fines, though. Nothing major; disorderly conduct, mouthing off to patrols, things like that.”

  Thalina nodded distractedly, noting the information down on her dataslate. Naturally, she already had access to Kallan’s records, including the rather extensive list of small fines, but it was a good indication that Finn had shared the information. It implied that he wasn’t trying to make his ‘friend’ look better, though she was increasingly doubting the extent of their relationship anyway.

  “And what do you know of his stint in prison?” she pressed, more for the sake of being thorough than anything else.

  Finn raised an eyebrow. “Not much, really, just that he spent a couple of years behind bars. I’m just a supervisor - I don’t get told the details of my worker’s personal lives or anything. The boss’d probably know more if you want to chase him up.”

  Thalina nodded non-committedly, masking her feelings. It wasn’t the first time a previous interviewee had given her incorrect or incomplete information, but it was just as frustrating as ever.

  “What was the last time you saw him?” she asked, moving on to the next line of questioning.

  Finn thought for a moment. “I guess that would be the day we were doing work on the Imperial warship that came in a few weeks ago. As far as I remember, he came in for work as usual, went home, and just... didn’t show up the next morning.”

  Thalina’s attention sharpened. She’d read the available files on the events surrounding Darius Kallan’s initial flight from the law, and Agent Falk had let a couple of further tidbits slip since, but there was still quite a bit she didn’t know.

  “Is there anything further you can tell me about the work you were doing on the warship?” she asked, trying to seem casual.

  An expression flickered across Finn’s face too quickly to fully catch.

  “Not much, really,” he said after a beat, his tone as easy as ever. “It was a standard job. We were called in to handle some routine diagnostics—power grid, navigation systems, the usual. Nothing I’d call exciting.”

  Thalina tilted her head, letting the silence hang between them just long enough to encourage elaboration. Finn didn’t take the bait.

  “Was Mr. Kallan involved in any of these tasks specifically?” she asked.

  “Not directly,” Finn said. “He was assigned to lighting diagnostics that day. I remember because it was one of those jobs nobody likes to do, and I figured he’d grumble about it, but he was late to work that morning so it was a bit of a punishment.”

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  He smiled faintly, like he was sharing an inside joke.

  Thalina’s fingers twitched, her grip on the dataslate tightening. “Did anything unusual happen during the work? Anything that might explain why Imperial Intelligence would suddenly take an interest in Mr. Kallan?”

  He leaned back, tapping a finger on the edge of the table. “Nothing particularly unusual,” he said, drawing the words out as if he were truly mulling them over. “There was a malfunction with some doors near where he was working and he got stuck – had to find a different way back to the rest of us. A bit odd, but then again, the whole reason we were on the ship in the first place was because of malfunctions.”

  Thalina’s fingers were flying over her dataslate as she took notes. Malfunctioning doors sounded like the perfect excuse for someone to enter restricted areas. The question was, did Mr Kallan do this on purpose, or was it simply random chance?

  “Do you know which route he took?” she asked intently, “Or did he contact you at any other point?”

  Finn shrugged, a note of curiosity in his expression. “No, it was radio silence until the malfunctions were fixed, at which point he met back up with the rest of the workers. I assumed everything was fine – it’s not like people usually check in unless they have a problem.”

  “So that would imply that he didn’t encounter any more problems?”

  “None that I know about,” Finn replied lightly.

  “What about the reactor room?” she pressed, watching his face closely. A lie, of course, but the man’s response would be telling. “Kallan was logged there briefly before his shift ended.”

  Finn blinked, a touch of surprise breaking through his composure. “Was he? Huh. I didn’t know that. If he was in the reactor room, it wasn’t on my orders. He might’ve been called in to check something out, I guess, but that’s not the kind of thing they’d usually let someone like him handle.”

  …Damn.

  She was hardly an expert on reading facial expressions, of course, but a random supervisor wouldn’t be much of a liar anyway, and Finn’s reaction felt genuine. Thalina didn’t allow herself to sag back into her chair, but it was a near thing. Another day wasted, then.

  Finn had the decency to restrain his obvious curiosity to a raised eyebrow.

  “Very well, then. I just have a few more questions for you, Mr Calder,” she said, scrolling dejectedly to the list of generic questions she had been instructed to ask. Just because they likely wouldn’t turn anything up was no excuse to skip them, however much she wanted to.

  “Just call me Finn, please,” Finn asked, chuckling, “Mr Calder makes me feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

  She had to admit that Finn had a pleasant laugh.

  Thalina refocused on her dataslate, skimming the list of questions Falk had prepared. They were rote, the kind of uninspired prompts that felt like busywork— designed to probe for tangential connections she had already ruled out. She moved briskly through them, not bothering to wait long for Finn’s responses before moving on.

  “Any unusual behaviour among other workers around that time?”

  “Nope, nothing that stood out.”

  “Did Kallan ever mention any new contacts or personal projects?”

  “Not that I recall, though I’m not exactly his confidant.”

  “Have you noticed anything unusual in the yard – shipments, schedules, management directives?”

  Finn shrugged. “It’s a shipyard. Everything about it’s a little unusual if you squint hard enough.”

  Her attention drifted as she recited the next few questions, her focus slipping from the answers Finn provided. Instead, her mind wandered back to the investigation’s growing pile of dead ends and the almost uncanny ability of Agent Falk to give her directives that seemed deliberately obtuse. She realized, a little belatedly, that Finn had added something to his previous answer—a joke, judging by the faint twinkle in his eye and the slight tilt of his head.

  “You’re not writing that one down?” he teased.

  Thalina blinked, glancing at the dataslate. “Didn’t think it was relevant,” she said, a touch defensively, though there was no real heat in her tone.

  “Fair enough,” Finn said, leaning back in his chair. “I’d hate to derail the investigation with my razor-sharp wit.”

  She couldn’t help the faint upward twitch of her lips, though she immediately tamped it down. Finn, apparently emboldened by her reaction, leaned into his easygoing charm. He peppered their remaining exchanges with light, self-deprecating humour, his tone carrying just enough warmth to make the sterile interview room feel less oppressive.

  Thalina told herself she didn’t mind—it wasn’t like his attempts at levity were particularly distracting. If anything, it made the tedious process a little easier to endure. She glanced up from her dataslate occasionally, catching his wry expressions as he fielded yet another mundane question. It was… disarming.

  “Thank you, Mr. Calder,” she said, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face as she scrolled to the final page of notes.

  “Finn, please,” he reminded her.

  She nodded absently, but something on her dataslate caught her attention. She stared at the last few lines, her brow furrowing. Those… weren’t part of the original list of questions. Had Agent Falk somehow managed to update her list of questions without her noticing? On her personal dataslate?

  She suppressed her slight confusion and read the questions aloud. “Do you know anything about the break-in at the Beresin Construction offices last night?”

  Finn’s brow knitted, genuine confusion spreading across his face. “Beresin Construction? Can’t say I do. What happened?”

  “That’s classified,” Thalina said automatically, though the words tasted hollow. “Does your team have any connection to the company?”

  “Well, we’ve worked on some of their vehicles from time to time,” Finn admitted. “Trucks, loaders, the occasional rig—nothing out of the ordinary. They’re one of a dozen clients with ties to the station’s industries. Why do you ask?”

  She didn’t answer, already jotting notes down. Finn tilted his head, watching her work with a faintly amused expression, seeming to read something in her expression.

  “Let me guess – bosses adding to your workload without warning, huh?” he said, his voice lightly commiserating. “Hate it when that happens.”

  Thalina snorted despite herself. “Something like that.”

  “Hey, speaking of overworked authority figures, do you ever take a break?” Finn asked casually.

  She glanced up, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

  He grinned, boyish and self-assured. “I mean, if you ever want to grab a drink or something, let me know. You seem like you could use a night off.”

  Thalina froze, her professional mask slipping for just a second. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, and she quickly looked back at her dataslate, though the screen was no longer the focus of her attention.

  “I, uh, I’m not sure that’s entirely appropriate?” she said, cursing both the stutter and the uncertainty in her voice.

  “I know, that’s half the fun,” Finn grinned roguishly back before raising his hands placatingly. “

  Just a friendly offer. No pressure.”

  She hesitated, then nodded stiffly. “I’ll… think about it.”

  “Good enough for me.” Finn’s grin softened, and he folded his hands neatly on the table.

  Thalina hurriedly wrapped up the interview, her composure teetering on the edge. When she finally rose to leave, she couldn’t quite meet Finn’s gaze, mumbling a quick thanks before stepping briskly out of the room, trying her best to feel like she wasn’t fleeing.

  It didn’t work.

  – – –

  Finn watched the Lieutenant leave, making sure to keep his expression open and a little excited. The very picture of a man who just asked a girl who should have been out of his league on a date and wasn’t rejected out of hand.

  Could never be too careful, after all. Who knew how many cameras the Empire had secreted away in this little interrogation room.

  After a moment, he stood, adjusted his shirt cuffs and headed for the exit, making sure to keep his gait relaxed and smooth. Quite a bit of this whole spy business came down to a person’s ability to simply act naturally and keep their cool. Finn was under no illusions that he was the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was very good at acting natural.

  Mostly because he was smart enough to play to his strengths, and he’d never found it particularly difficult to be friendly. It was shocking what people would admit to a friendly face, after all.

  Asking the Lieutenant out for a date had been a rather off-the-cuff decision, one he wasn’t entirely sure was the best move. By the looks of things the Imperial Agent he’d been hearing about was taking a vested interest in her, which could either be very good, or very bad.

  On the one hand, if he could get close enough to her, there would be a fair chance of getting his hands on some very confidential information. On the other hand, it might attract the sort of attention he was definitely not equipped to handle. That was the other part of being a good spy – knowing one’s limits.

  A genuine smirk crossed his face for a moment. Even if he didn’t manage to get anything out of the Lieutenant, taking an attractive young woman on a date was hardly a burden. She did look rather adorable when she got flustered, after all.

  Finn’s smirk faded as he made his way out of the Central Administrative Hall, where the ‘interview’ had taken place. The quiet gave him space to think, and his thoughts, as they often did lately, drifted to Darius.

  It had started as simple curiosity. Darius Kallan was just another worker when Finn first met him—a bit rough around the edges, the kind of guy who grumbled about schedules and played it fast and loose with authority. Finn had gravitated toward him out of habit, the way he always did with people who might serve as convenient camouflage. A casual friendship, a few shared laughs in the yard, and suddenly you had someone willing to vouch for you in a pinch.

  To his surprise, however, he’d found himself actually liking the man. Kallan had a dry wit that could catch you off guard, a sharp mind hiding under the grease-streaked exterior. He was stubborn, sure, and sometimes a little too reckless for his own good, but there was something oddly charming about him, flaws and all.

  Which, of course, made it all the more irritating that Darius had gone and gotten himself tangled in something as messy as this.

  Finn let out a long breath as he stepped out onto the bustling streets of the station centre.

  No use dwelling on things he couldn’t change. If Darius was smart, he’d figure a way out of this mess, just like he always did. And if not… well, Finn would just have to hope their paths didn’t cross again under less friendly circumstances.

  With a faint smile tugging at his lips, he made his way toward the maglev train that would take him back to the shipyard. There was work to be done, after all. And if there was one thing Finn Calder was good at, it was keeping busy.