Free Alien Assassin by T. R. Harris Page B

friend.
    “This won’t take much time,” De’ronin said without sitting. He did not want to dwell on any personal level of interaction, not knowing the scandal that his association with the Juireans would soon unleash. “Just looking for where salvages are registered.”
    Caal pushed back from his desk, frowning. “For space or land vehicles?”
    “Specifically, spaceships.”
    “That would be on the second floor, room twelve. Not sure who’s in charge at this time. What is your concern?”
    “Nothing important. Just need to check on something.”
    Caal looked at his friend for a moment before shrugging. It wouldn’t be long before he would be exposed. De’ronin felt sick inside, and this was only the beginning. Even in light of the credits that had been promised by the Juireans, this was not going to be easy.
    De’ronin climbed the stairs and entered the designated office. A large Nimorian female greeted him. “Your business? she asked.
    Now it began. “I’m investigating the salvage of a derelict spaceship from around nine months ago. I need to know who would have registered the vessel?”
    The female frowned. “From your uniform, I see you are not of this department. You are not authorized this information.”
    De’ronin handed her his Juirean documentation. The bureaucrat scanned the papers, and then looked up at him with anger in her eyes. Nimorians were an independent lot; they only tolerated the Juireans to a certain point. They remembered the time before the Juireans came, only seventy short years ago, and still resented the superior attitude the beings from the galactic center displayed and the rules they imposed.
    “This states that you are an official agent of the Juirean Authority. Is this true? You are a Nimorian.” The female glared at him, having difficulty with the concept.
    “Yes, I have authorization to access all records. Please assist me.”
    “I have seen you before. I was not aware you were an agent for the Juireans…”
    He sighed deeply. This was not going to be easy. Her attitude left him no choice. “I demand that you provide me assistance. I have noted your name, and you will be included in my report.”
    Even this did not seem to faze the female, but eventually she did turn to her screen and began entering data from her keyboard. After a few minutes, she looked up at De’ronin, to whom she had never offered a seat.
    “Nine months ago, the department was headed by Fredic Dess. He has since retired. What specific vessel do you seek?”
    “It was a class-five, unknown origin.”
    The female returned to her screen.
    “I have no record of such a salvage being registered, not then or since. There have been no class-five salvages on record.”
    “I have information that this salvage was indeed received through this office,” De’ronin stated, firmly.
    “I have no doubt you do,” she replied pointedly. “But I have no such records. I cannot help you.” She then turned from him and back to her screen, ignoring him.
    “I must speak with this Fredic Dess.”
    “He has retired.”
    “I understand that. Where can I find information on him?”
    “Personnel,” was all she said.
     

    By the time De’ronin reached the Ministry personnel department, word had already spread about the Juirean/Nimorian agent. He faced even a colder reception there, but eventually was able to retrieve information from the clerk about Fredic Dess. It was De’ronin’s hope that Dess would remember the circumstances of the salvage, even if no records currently existed. He was finding that the salvage of class-five starships was very rare indeed.
    Fredic Dess had worked in the Ministry for nearly ten years, and De’ronin found it curious that about nine months ago he had abruptly retired from his position and moved to a residence in an exclusive area of Gildemont. He checked the Library for information regarding the residence and was surprised to find the property was a mansion. On Ministry