The admiral checked his display. The contact sent an encrypted written message. The admiral decoded it quickly using a specific algorithm that he created specifically for this purpose. The contact confirmed that they will be arriving at the designated rendevous point in less than twenty minutes. He and his contact were arriving on schedule. His chest felt heavy with anxiety at the thought of the transaction going awry. Any number of things could cause the transaction to go awry. He saw only a handful of possibilities as being a physical likelihood, but not statistically probable. This, along with the assumed 'reliability' from past dealings was his only consolation. Having a fleet of Union ships lingering outside the perimeter didn't help matters, but the fact didn't compromise his plans, either.
The meeting site was well-fortified. The admiral made sure of that long ago. All security elements were in position in and around the meeting site. So far everything was otherwise going to plan. Still, he had a gut feeling that made him weary, and unsure. He glanced at the dashboard: the transport's velocity is translight factor nine-point-nine-nine-eight. Impressive for such a small craft. The energy signature of the swirling bright neon green translight corridor was effectively masked. They would be arriving within 12 minutes. Plenty of time in advance to ensure everything was as he needed it to be. Still, his gut feeling lingered. If anything, it was getting worse. He put a fresh power cell in his sidearm, switched the safety off, increased the power output to maximum, and then holstered it.
*****
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