By the sixth hour, Cyran Solvere had become reasonably certain they would find nothing.
Imperial security had taken his communicator, sealed both campaign offices, questioned his staff, searched his residence, and obtained access to every account declared during the election review. He assumed they were currently repeating the process through relatives, former colleagues, and anyone unfortunate enough to have shared a drink with him during the last decade.
That was inconvenient, but not dangerous.
The information he had used around Arik had not come through anything that could be traced directly to him, and the people involved had been careful long before Cyran became a candidate. There were no incriminating messages waiting inside an improperly protected device, no sudden deposits, no handwritten plans hidden beneath a mattress.
Arik had noticed too much.
Unfortunately for the emperor, noticing something and proving it were entirely different problems.
