Normally, if somebody from the Brotherhood Transport Company was up to something dangerous and stupid, it was... well, there were any number of people to choose from, but the important point was that it was almost never Evie Frye.
The company, of course, was known in certain circles more for their smuggling, rabble rousing and assassination jobs against the agents of the Empire, but as long as all their credentials checked out and none of them were ever caught, the Empire would never be able to pin anything on them and everything would be fine.
The fact that a close relative of two of the Brotherhood's most skilled members was, in fact, an agent of the Empire's most elite police unit was a bone of contention for people on both sides of the fence - and every one of those people would be perturbed to know it was none other than this very relative that Evie was on her way to meet.

The sun was setting over the spaceport as Evie's craft landed, leaving her with a few hours before she was due to take off again with her next shipment - a few hours the others no doubt expected her to use researching or reading or one of her other more academic hobbies, but instead she was slipping into a somewhat seedy tavern and taking a seat in the back corner, waiting for one Haytham Kenway to arrive.