It was once said that the difference between a good man and a bad one was the choice of cause. It has also generally been regarded that intelligence agents existed outside the purview of all accepted standards of conduct. These agents, these anathema's of the political arena, their knowledge sought after by the soldiers and politicians alike, yet scorned by all for their slinking methods. She could see it in the eyes of her guards. They were leery of her, mistrustful and yet they came, picking up the contact reports, ever so determined to obtain the intel she had. Kyra Matthews yawned. Sleep eluded her, which was probably for the best. There was to much to do. Verification and validation of all the data she had sent, and then for each report she had ever filed, contact reports had to be filled out. Details on who she had met with, how the information had come to her, why she passed it on. Everything had to be documented. Then the interviews would begin, the debriefing with the ever present force sensitives. It was a relief for her when Clark showed up. He was a good man. Probably the reason she had agreed to talk to him in the first place. She could sense it in him. He wanted to do what was right for the Alliance. It reminded her of why she had once fought so strongly for them. Now it was different, she had been betrayed by the Alliance, her mind violated by those she once trusted, somewhere along the way it had all become mixed up. Now she was the one they wondered if they could trust her. Her cause hadn't changed, so what had? Kyra thought back through the years. Her days in the Empire spent mind controlled by the now dead Jarek Alderson, her time as the director of Alliance Intelligence, then as aide to Eric Pendragon. A promotion is what they had called it, but it was nothing more than a punishment for one of her command staff having crossed the line by allowing Daniel Tarkenian to torture Sith women. The assignment itself was not so bad until Pendragon was killed. Then it soured. The coup, she learned, was supposed to have been bloodless. So why was it, she wondered, that Pendragon's life seeped out before her very eyes. She had no memory of her escape or the fear or anger laden days after. The days where she discovered the new high command had labeled her a traitor. She sighed, shoving the most recent work aside. Even once the coup had ended and order was restored,heedless of the facts, which many did not care to know or understand, Kyra had been shunted aside. Her loyalty had been questioned and that was enough to run her career further afield than it had been. Then it happened. The chance for her to redeem her career. Capture by Rachel Summers, turned over to the house, and freed by Eric Daniels. For whatever reason he did it, Kyra didn't care, she saw her chance. So it was that she reported back to the new Chief of Combined Operations and found herself temporarily assigned to Alliance Intel once more. Somewhere along the way it all went wrong. She had agreed to go undercover, but had never agreed to be mind controlled. In a chance meeting with Avon, Serris, and Darana the programming was discovered, undone, then redone. When her insertion into the house was complete it was finally removed and she now found herself acting as a double agent. Trusting no one in the alliance she began to dig for information that could prove the corruption and wrong doing still in Alliance High Command. The price she paid was high,. The one person she knew who held the information she needed and could link all of the activities back to Branwyn was now dead. Killed by the household. Kyra stood and began to pace. The room was nice and she was grateful it wasn't a bare cell. Briefly she wondered what planet they had taken her to and why Counter-Intel had managed to hang on to her for as long as they had. Clark, she thought, had at least taken her seriously. Maybe he would get further than she had. Clark seemed to be trying, which was more than could be said for his predecessor. That one had written her complaints off as part of the programming and necessary action for her to maintain her cover. Oddly enough, it had been the household that afforded her the opportunity to investigate. Every alliance prisoner that came in she had been allowed access to. Supervised of course, but she didn't care. Anything she could find and use to bring Branwyn down was useful. Of course, it was useful to the house as well, but again, she didn't care. Justice in whatever form she could get it was her goal. And that, Kyra realized, was what had changed. She'd been an agent out in the cold with no one to turn to. She did what she could to survive and protect herself and her daughter. Had she done the right thing, allowing Talia to be kidnapped off of Langley. Her daughters life had changed drastically, but she knew the Alliance would use Talia against her, willingly or not. Again, her cause had been just, or had it? She sat back down at the terminal, staring at the information she had sent years before. Information that was false, some true, some she had no idea about. Not for the first time she wondered how many lives had been lost. Lost for her own quest for justice. Or had it been vengeance. It had been easy with the household. her path was clear, but since its disbandment she was left to her own devices. Eric and Rook off in the Alliance, and Shade on Valass. Kyra frowned as she thought of Rachel Summers back with the Jedi. The woman who was responsible for her being in the Empire ironically welcomed home with arms wide open. She mused how it was that these people could commit far worse crimes than she had and still return to their old lives as if nothing had ever happened. The Jedi always seemed to dabble with whatever side they pleased. Maybe Branwyn was right and they were the ones responsible for war. Jedi or Sith, did it really matter. Both were equally as bad. Kyra closed her eyes against the room. Hoping it would block out the idle boredom laced with dislike emanating from the guards outside her door. Her cause had changed, she knew that now. Could admit that. But she wondered, were her guards right? Was she now suddenly one of the bad ones? Was she now immersed into the purview of yet another set of standards? Tears streaked her cheeks, exhausted she slinked slowly into sleep. The voice of a man long dead greeting her, promising her a full and productive life.
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