503. Flight of the Decoy - Raezyr

Tyr lounged in a cushy chair across from Kal Van-Dohr's desk, while Anya sat on the edge of Kal's desk, one leg dangling down and the other tucked underneath her. Kal was leaned back in his chair, feet on his desk and hands locked together behind his head.

"So what exactly is this job you said you had for us?" Tyrrazapon asked his old friend. "You didn't really specify."

"It's not much really. I need someone eliminated. You did say 'anything,' didn't you?" Kal replied to Tyr although his eyes were locked on the blond girl sitting on his desk, toying with the small statue he kept as decoration. Tyr noticed this, and he could see why. Anya was constantly wearing tight-fitting, slinky out fits, and he himself often had trouble keeping his eyes from straying to her.

"He did say that," Anya commented, looking up from the statue and catching Kal's roving glance. "And he did mean 'anything,'" she said, reaching over Kal's feet and across the desk to pick up the writing utensil laying over there.

She held her position for a moment, her lithe body stretched out in front of the smuggler. "Mind if I borrow this?" she asked and smiled coyly. She glanced at Kal and noticed his gaze was on her, but not looking at her face.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Kal said.

Tyr smiled to himself, knowing exactly what Anya was doing, and also wishing he was in Kal's place. "Kal? The job?"

"Uh, right," he said, watching Anya as she slowly sat back up and began writing something on her hand. "Okay, here's the information on the person," he said, tossing Tyrrazapon a data card. "She's a Bothan named Tasa Key'lyar, and we've just learned she's an informant for the Arkanian Security Force.

"Unfortunately, we've had several dealings with her before we knew she was a snitch, and we're pretty sure she's about to sell us out. She needs to be taken care of before that happens," Kal said.

"So why don't you just do it?" Anya asked, looking at the statue once again.

"We don't want any connection when she goes missing. The fewer questions for us, the better. You know how it is."

"Yeah, we know," Tyrrazapon responded knowingly.

They spent the next several minutes asking Kal a few more detailed questions about the Bothan before getting up to leave. "We'll take care of your little problem, Kal. In the mean time, what's a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?" Anya asked, giving the outlaw a sly smile.

"Well, we keep a decent stock in the lounge area, but I keep the good stuff in a cabinet in my quarters. Why don't you come with me, babe, and I'll get you a glass," Kal offered.

"I'm going to have to turn that down, Kal," Tyr said, even though he noticed he hadn't been invited. "I want to look at this file," he said holding the data card up. "I'll take you up on that later."

"Sure," Kal said although he was looking at Anya, and placed a hand on the small of her back, escorting the Sith to his living quarters.

The office door slid shut behind the three of them, and Tyr watched as the other two walked down the corridor, talking. Anya laughed at some joke Kal told as they turned the corner. He knew Anya was good at what she did. She could become the perfect woman for any man she met, and have them wrapped around her finger in no time at all.

He wondered whether the Anya he was starting to fall for was the real one, or just one of the many other women that she pretended to be to get her way.

He concealed his feelings with the Force and headed for the lounge to get an ale. The data file could wait.