Nar Shaddaa
Storage Facility 931
Owner: Chaddisk the Hutt

The floating facility drifted over the garish neon lights of the promenade. Cargo pods, storage crates, various supply cylinders were stacked on the boarding deck with small cargo droids roaming about among them. A sleek speeder bike banked over the top of the facility and touched down softly. The black garbed human shape climbed off the vehicle and tapped his wrist. Once the code was sent to the security system the human moved between the cargo pods. As he did so the security system activated once more. Once past the facade of cargo pods, the human stripped off the black hooded cloak and hung it on a hook. Akonaar Locke brushed any sort of wrinkles from his clothing and he moved through the luxuriously furnished facility. While the outside world saw a simple cargo and supply station, within was one of several safe houses that Locke maintained from his days as a spy and assassin. He moved to the lower levels, through the social gathering hall, into the interrogation chamber, and beyond into his lab, and work space. He pulled out a chair and sat at the curved desk and looked over the large monitors situated where they can be seen from the desk.

Akonaar brought up his slicing program and started checking his hooks. He discovered his hidden talents several years ago and started looking further into them. Prior to his discovery, had no recollection of any kind of training with computers, and the flow of data. He was stuck behind enemy lines and found himself in a data center, on a whim he pulled one of the keypads and without knowing how he did it, he cracked the security, and had burrowed into the database of an enemy station. When his infantry unit found him he had strategic information downloaded, analyzed, and stored on his datapad. Upon this realization, Akonaar had started trying other things, and found he had skills he could not remember ever training for. During a leave on Dromund Kaas Akonaar used his new found talents to research his own past. He found a file buried in a public computer disguised as another type of file, but it was saved under a number and file name he knew, but could not remember how. He secured the file, and when he returned to his hostel he looked through it. In the information that unlocked at his direction he found a list of safe houses, financial accounts, and contact lists. It was in this data that he learned about the cargo facility on Nar Shaddaa. Akonarr chartered a ship to the smugglers moon, and located the facility. When the security system responded to him, he made his way inside and found a treasure trove of information, supplies, weapons, and equipment. Now, several year later, he used the facility as his base of operations when not seeing to his duties to the Imperial army.

The other prize he discovered was the yacht. The sleek hull of the ship was dusty, indicating the ship had been in storage for some time. It was one of the Phantom class ships, and according to the records he had, it belonged to him. When he looked over the schematics of the vessel he learned that it was not a typical Phantom, as it was equipped with much stronger shields, engines, weapons, and a top of the line sensor suite. The droid he activated was a standard protocol droid and was very useful in discovering things about his past. This was how he learned that he was in fact an agent. Armed with this information Akonaar made use of the expanse of computer equipment in the storage facility and began digging into records. He used tricks, codes, and slicing skills to finally uncover a classified file about himself. As he read about his past things started to make sense. While he was reading this file Akonaar was suddenly overcome with a massive pain in his head, and he passed out.

When he woke up Akonaar looked around and found himself in a medical room. Two droids and a well built female human discussing him. He sat up in the bed, and as he was about to speak the woman looked at him, and walked over. "Good to see you awake, Agent." Akonaar gave a shake of his head, then looked at the woman. "Who are you, and where am I?" The woman chuckled. "You are still on your base. Your droid notified me when you passed out." Akonarr looked at the droids, one was a medical class machine, the other looked like an older hunter killer model. He returned his attention to the woman. "What happened?" The woman looked at the med panel over his bed. "What happened, is a debt was erased. I owed you, now we are even. There was a sub program in your cybernetic that incapacitated you when you discovered certain data. Whoever put it there knows you have seen the data, but I found the sub routine and removed it. There is no outside control now on your implants." Akonaar swung his legs over the side of the bed, and noticed he was covered with a sheet, but wore nothing else. He looked at the woman again. "Who are you?" She smiled, flipped a blonde lock of hair out of her eyes and chuckled "I am nobody.. in fact, I was never here." With that, she turned and walked out of the room. It was the last time he saw her.

In the years since that encounter, Akonaar had visited several other safe houses on his list. One on Manaan, a tower apartment on Dromund Kaas, even a small apartment on Coruscant. None of the others were as well equipped as the facility on Nar Shaddaa, so he spent most of his time there. He had been able to split his time between his duties in the military, and digging through years of data, case reports, mission briefings, and other useful tidbits of information. With his limited duties with the army Akonarr had plenty of time to spend on other projects. Now that he had managed to dig up his complete dossier and history, he knew now how he knew things, how he had acquired his skills.

Akonarr Locke sat at the desk and watched data stream across multiple screens. When he found something his superiors would find useful, he sent it to them under a series of alias names. Even with all of the revelations of the last few years, he was still completely loyal to the Empire, after all.

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