Veritas vincit. Words of strength and solidarity. And Courage.

The words repeated hollowly over and over in his head. Jason could feel hope seeping from his spirit with every moment that had past since recieving Inquisitor Valten's missive.

Sincerest apologies...

He was suffocating. He wanted to scream out loud his rage at the cruelty of men who took and destroyed things dear to others for no other purpose than greed and malice. He wanted to scream his fury and frustration that even the splendid power and organization of the Empire could not always undo a wrong and make things right.

Instead, he sat stifled and dispairing.

What third party did Karl mean? The Albino? There had been no word from him. No word from any of the parties his father Jason the Elder had recruited.

If the Imperials found no trace of his daughter, it could mean only one thing. There was no trace to be found. Estelle was gone. For the first time Jason allowed that thought to land and take root in his mind.

"Dont you dare"

Russard looked up at his father's sharp rebuke. The old man's blue eyes, hard as granite, pinned Jason to silence.

"I can see defeat all over you. And I can smell it" he snarled. "It reeks so that my bowels writhe. No Russard was ever weak. You'll not indulge yourself now, Jason"

Jason's hand trembled slightly on the armrest, so he made it into a fist. He had fully expected the Imperials to recover Estelle. He hadn't realised how tightly he had been clinging to that belief until it had been stripped from him by Valten's message. Sincerest apologies.

"Find your spine Jason" the old man commanded. "We have no need of cowards here"

Russard stood, wordless, and crossed to the study window. It was a large bay that looked out onto the gardens below. The day had dawned clear and the pale blue of the morning sky was slowly deepening in colour as the sun began its steady climb.

As his son turned back toward him, Jason the Elder could see he had taken a hold on his thoughts and, if not exactly an absence of fear, there was a renewed strength in his face and in how he held himself tall. The slightest of nods confirmed his approval of the younger Jasons effort. And the two men returned to their waiting.

An hour later, Lissel delivered the communication from Gorgja. The old man smiled. Leave it to the grubby Hutts to have the last say.
There was no rebuke in the old man's face when he saw his son was weeping.