Lost Intelligence - 9.050

[Sheldon Esalis]

Kuat.

At an undisclosed location.

Shit.

I just disclosed some of that.

Now I have to kill you.


The Imperial stance on torture is a lot like my stance on banging models. Yes please! That said, my stance on torture is not so enthusiastic. For one, there's a lot of screaming and uncontrolled urination. The urine part is usually ok if you keep a good supply of cheap towels on your little torture cart thing. The screaming is really really annoying. Because you can't just slap on some headphones and tunes to drown it out. You told the poor bastard (or bastardess, I've tortured women before true story. Wait shit, is bastardess a word? It is now.)

Anyway, you told the torturee that they were going to talk. Not only is it rude to miss that delicious secret-spilling talking when you're jamming to Hot Plasma Overload and pretending you're wake-boarding on Glee Anselm, but it's embarassing when you have to ask them to repeat what they said, and they can't, because they're choking on their own vomit now. So it's screaming. All day. All night. "Nooooooooooo!!!! AAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!! My genitaaaals!!!" And then some spluttering coughing and crying and look, it's awkward and grating. Also I have to wear a cheap suit when I torture people, because I just can't afford to risk the dry cleaning turning out a real mess if something goes wrong.

"Mister Uktol..."

I lit a stim for effect, drawing on it slowly. True story, I don't smoke. Normally. But it's great for torture. Also it does kind of cover for the smell of defecation. Did I mention defecation? Yeah there's a lot.

"...we know what you're planning. We've already caught your conspirators. Soon they'll be telling us everything. If that happens, I can't stop the stormtroopers from putting a blaster bolt in your, uh, head, thing."

What the fuck do Ithorians call a head? Because that doesn't look like a head, it looks like a chair. Chair head.

"So, the sooner you tell me about the Rebel attack you're planning, the sooner I make the call to set you free. Neither of us want me to get what's in this cart out."

The Ithorian began to speak in that weirdo double voice stereo thing. Oh what's that? You're not Mr. Uktol? Oh that's rich. "Oh gee, I caught the wrong guy! Boy howdy that happens all the time!" Well the right guy is sure gonna be glad he won't be fed his pulped-up busted toes one by one.

[R. S. Esalis]

In a room set off to the side, a woman stood watching. Her arms folded over her chest, she watched the set of monitors in front of her with a stoic and brooding expression. It was a familiar scene playing out on the screens, and one that she had become used to seeing.

There was a chair in the room, but R. S. Esalis had as much intention of using it as she had of disturbing the goings on in the next room. In some ways it was procedural, and the Director of Imperial Intelligence pursed her lips as the Ithorian spilled words out like a Felucian geyser - each utterance professing his innocence and that he was not the individual that they'd been looking for. That this was all a misunderstanding.

Esalis frowned, but otherwise stood rooted. It was a common, panicked reaction she was watching, not helped one iota from Sheldon's own words and the promise of what uncooperative behavior would bring.

Almost thankful for the disturbance that the sudden arrival of her aide brought, Esalis half-turned to regard the slim man with an emotionless gaze.

"Mister Yarden?"

Jeril Yarden stood with a straight back, his hands clasped behind his back as his brow knit.

"We seem to have a problem, Director."

At that, her own features darkened. 'Problems' were not what she was in the mood for.

"What sort of a problem."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Oh really, Mr. Uktol. That's really convenient!"

I pulled a set of flimsies from a dossier and held each one in quick order up in front of the Rebel spymaster.

"We've got pictures of you making the drop! Here you are with a Mr. Ryn Thallyes, a known Rebel Intel asset. Now, here you are exchanging credits. Now, third time's a charm, here's a suspicious envelope being given to Mr. Thallyes. Now I guess you'll be telling me that was a Mother's Day card?"

The Ithorian emphatically nodded.

"It was! It was!"

I threw my hands up as I laughed incredulously.

"Of course! That explains everything! Oh wait, no it doesn't you Rebel Scum! We also got audio of the drop. Something about a...plant!"

I stooped down to his level, pointing at him with my lit stim.

"So I ask you again. Mr. Uktol...what do your Rebel friends have planned! Talk before I start playing doctor, and I'm totally not an accredited doctor so there might be complications!"

The Ithorian cowered with fear, but his voice found a little force to it.

"I was talking about a plant because I am a florist!"

[R. S. Esalis]

The door to the interrogation room didn't exactly fly open, but it was not opened gently either. Followed by two agents, Esalis strode in. With her hands at her side and an expression of steel on her face, she gestured to the Ithorian, snapping her fingers.

"Get him out of here."

The two agents moved around her, sidling up to either side of Mr. Uktol and reached down to roughly undo his restraints. They hauled him up by each arm, their motions in no way smooth as they marched him from the room without so much as a word. They knew their instructions; had been curtly ordered to take care of the situation by those means that they knew best. The Director's edicts would be carried out in this matter.

When the door closed once more, Esalis let her frown deepen as her chilling gaze swept to Sheldon.

"I have half a mind to pull you from duty and have you shipped off to Anoat."

[Sheldon Esalis]

Anoat, uh....

"Nice. Do they have beaches?"

She was pissed, but I hoped to soften the blow with the gift of laughter. My torturing act was done, so I stamped out my stim with a little distaste.

[R. S. Esalis]

"Sheldon."

It was a harsh tone she took; one that he knew well.

"Try to act like a normal functioning member of this bureau for just once in your life. Would that truly be too much to ask of you?"

Her hands moved to clasp behind her back as her eyes left his to move around the now-empty chair and the utilitarian cart that held an assortment of tools meant to extract information through any means possible.

Finally her gaze went back to him.

"I hope you have a good reason for all of this," she started dangerously, "... because I would positively love to know how you grabbed the wrong target."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"M..."

I bit down on my tongue.

"...Director. How do we know? That he's not the guy? I mean, organizing a spy ring under cover as a florist. Probably has...poison-coated thornbuds...somewhere."

Or maybe its because my photo of The Guy was really grainy and Ithorians all look alike. That sounds kinda racist but...I'm kinda creeped out about the chair heads okay.

[R. S. Esalis]

She gave him a look.

"We know," was the simple answer.

"The transaction was made not fifteen minutes ago, while you were trying to arm-wrestle one of Mr. Uktol's eyestalks from his head."

Esalis ticked her head slightly to the side as she still looked up at him. While she herself was tall, he was moreso.

"My data is never wrong.

"My son on the other hand... "

[Sheldon Esalis]

I winced at the s word, not wanting to sum my awesome career up on the whims of a nepotist ice queen, no matter how great she might make hot chocolate with those little marshmallows when it's cold.

My jawline set, and I held up the Intel picture of the contact.

"Maybe if SIGINT gave me a photo that wasn't done in shaky hand crayon this wouldn't be a problem!"

Which, while it was passing the buck, I felt a little justified here. I wasn't even drunk when I gave it a once over.

"Director, uh, give me another chance. Rebels go to places with sunny beaches and good bars. I think I read that once."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Did you now?"

Esalis perpetuated her harsh gaze with a further narrowing of her eyes.

"What you read in those... holomags of yours are most certainly not fact, I can assure you of that."

Finally the Director turned on her heel, and she headed for the door.

"I'll not send you off to some whore planet under the guise of legitimacy just so you can satisfy your base desires."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Well of course you're not, because I got banned there two years ago!"

Wait.

"We're talking about Zeltros right? Is there another whore planet? Where?"

[R. S. Esalis]

"Shut up."

Stepping through the doorway, Esalis left him in her wake to either stay or follow. Right now it mattered little.

[Sheldon Esalis]

My pace quickened to catch up, as she had terminally piqued my curiosity.

"At least tell me what sector! I can probably, uh, go from there."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Absolutely not."

The Director did not slow her pace.

"However, your next assignment will at least be less complicated than looking at a photo."

Rounding a corner, the two continued on through a networked maze of corridors and hallways.

"We are going to Carida. I have business there to tend to, and you are coming with me."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Important business on Carida? What, high gravity jizzercise? Farm espionage? Rootin' Tootin' Rancor Rodeo?"

There was a stormtrooper academy there too, but that sort of thing was for proles. Most importantly, I had no intel on any brothels on Carida. This was slightly disappointing.

[R. S. Esalis]

"The attitude is not appreciated."

Approaching a lift, Esalis reached out, keying the call-pad.

"Whether you like it or not, you are going. Agent Rakesh will also be traveling with us, and I expect you to be on your best behavior."

[Sheldon Esalis]

I didn't know Agent Rakesh from Agent Namana Berry, and to be honest, the name sounded like it was one of those aliens with a third eye on a stalk or a second ass, or at least some pale, dowdy schmuck with a combover and a cheap suit. But most importantly...

"You can't do that! I work alone!"

Mainly because I didn't need a tattle-tale to tell my mother that instead of assassinating some Mon Calamari arms dealer, I may have chased a few skirts at an Embassy function. Unpaid interns. Do you know the sick shit they'll do if you so much as hint that you'll pay down school debt or buy them a crate of reconstituted noodles? All fun and games.

I mean, I put one in the Rebel terrorist's ear hole later, just because by happy accident we stopped off at the same seafood stand for hangover cures. Now before you say that's racial profiling to ambush a Mon Cal at a fried fish stand, let me tell you that fish was melty buttered gold and I regret nothing. Good guys win, right?

[R. S. Esalis]

There was a strange look that descended over the Director's features. It was mild surprise yes, but mild surprise at his outburst, with the glint of a warning shining in her eyes.

The lift doors opened, but Esalis didn't move.

"Excuse me?"

[Sheldon Esalis]

"I SAID YOU CAN'T DO THAT, I WORK ALONE!"

A little cough.

"I don't mean to shout m...other...but I'm pretty sure hearing loss is common for your age."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Sheldon. Heathridge. Esalis."

The words came out like acid, spilling from her lips like poisoned lashes to fall upon his ears.

"Are you sure you wish to continue this current topic of discussion?"

The lift doors began to shut, but her hand came out to hold them open and they retracted back into their slotted openings.

"Because I can happily assign you to permanent duty on Honoghr if you are in any way dissatisfied with your current circumstances."

[Sheldon Esalis]

Honoghr. Poisonous little planet with creepy beady-eyed guys that stabbed you with knives. Probably not a decent bar on the planet.

"Alright, fine. Who is this potato head that you're putting me with?"

[R. S. Esalis]

She took the acquiescence regardless of his tone, and stepped into the lift.

"Agent Rakesh has, up until the last few weeks, been working in the Outer Rim. She will be meeting us aboard the Tairgess.

"You're to remain nothing but civil and professional with her, am I understood?"

The lift's door began to close.

"And I am hardly old enough to begin losing my hearing, Son."

[Sheldon Esalis]

I stepped into the lift, which, given my circumstances and my continuing proximity to my mother, was probably taking an express dive to Hell.

"Civil and professional? What, does she have a great personality?"

Probably a SIGINT, or worse, one of those...psychologists, liberal arts sarlacc oil saleswoman who is oh-so-goddamn-convinced you can just profile somebody using a game of twenty questions or flash cards. A mousy librarian type sporting A cups and pure virgin-growth Wookiee down there. This wasn't going to end well.

"Also, can't you call me, uh, you know, Agent Esalis?"

[R. S. Esalis]

She gave him a sidelong look. If she did not distinctly remember the arduous task of having to actually give birth, the Director of Imperial Intelligence would have questioned the fact that he was - in fact - her own child. Unfortunately she remembered that point in time all too well.

"I am Agent Esalis," was the simple, curt answer.

[Sheldon Esalis]

"No..."

A cagey, frustrated smile appeared on my face, keeping me from screaming and eating her head, but only just.

"...you're Director Esalis. I'm Agent Esalis. There's a hierarchy and everything. I've seen it!"

[R. S. Esalis]

"Sheldon."

This time, his name was spoken without stern overtones.

"I am both."

While each hand remained at the small of her back, and her posture was straight, there was a certain liberation in being able to be simply alone with one's own offspring. Though, it was not something that she encouraged very often.

"When in the company of other yes - you are Agent Esalis. But alone, you are Sheldon."

She let out a long breath.

"And right now, we are alone."

[Sheldon Esalis]

Oh God don't remind me...

I loosened my tie, just a little.

"And what, this is a speeder ride to prep school all over again? Smirking like some harpy asking if I've done my homework instead of just doodling in the margins? Giving me just enough credits for lunch money and demanding that I bring back all the change? Where's the trust, mother?"

An awkward silence.

"Also, if it's like that, then uh...I'm...going to need an advance on my expense account to prepare for this mission."

A look of agony.

"Please."

[R. S. Esalis]

She ignored the bit of remembrance, and allowed a bit of a sigh to escape her lips.

"What is it exactly that you must prepare for?"

Esalis allowed her hands to come away from her back, only to clasp in front of her.

"This is routine, Sheldon. I go to Carida every year, you know that."

And he did. It was nothing out of the ordinary in any way, and a part of the duties that her station demanded.

"It will be a time for you to slow down and not... "

The Director had to force herself to continue.

"... look for the next notch to add to your belt."

Now she did turn her head to look up at him.

"Think of it as a vacation from procedure. To an extent, at least."

[Sheldon Esalis]

Dammit

"Don't tell me this is one of those two-thousand-credit-a-plate dinner things where we get force-fed overcooked nuna and get the privilege to watch a holopresentation."

A bit of jazz hands for reference.

"Hey guys, vote for the Empress...it's mandatory!"

And suddenly serious again.

"Mother I will chew my arm off to get away from those people. A room of two hundred? What, ten real teeth?"

I wasn't going to beg, I wasn't going to beg.

"Tell me to kill somebody. A Rebel, a defector, a homeless guy. Pleeeaaase don't make me sit there and pretend I care."

[R. S. Esalis]

"I'll not require you to be present the entire time."

She gave him that much at least.

"Most of this is all procedural, and I will be reviewing the yearly candidates for possible placement into Intel."

It was a familiar song and dance that she had become accustomed to, as every year the Academy offered their most talented to the various bureaus within the Imperial government machine.

"But there will be other things that I'll need you to do, so you can rest assured that your attendance will not be entirely mandatory."

[Sheldon Esalis]

Blah blah blah blah, how loooooong was this elevator going to take?

"Alright, fine. I'm already going there's no need to make me suffer any more."

Finally, we were there. I was almost ready to bust the door down.

"A comped meal, a bar, and reading resumes until we defenestrate ourselves, I'll make sure to order my sous vide without poison until you twist the knife in properly. How's that mother?"

[R. S. Esalis]

Leading the way from the lift, she frowned, giving him a cautionary waggle of her finger.

"Watch yourself, Sheldon."

Yet another corridor, and Esalis went on.

"And you will not be among those on the review panel."

Stopping at a nondescript door, she turned to face him.

"I've decided that yourself and Agent Rakesh will be responsible for testing those that I feel may show promise."

[Sheldon Esalis]

Now that gave me some pause. Deciding which one of mother's pupils makes the cut or not? Heh, how about none of them.

"Really? Uh, okay. Sure."

F- F- F- F- F- Ha ha ha ha.

[R. S. Esalis]

With a sickly sweet smile, the Director of Imperial Intelligence placed one hand on his arm as the other came up to give his cheek a gentle pat.

"I appreciate your willingness to help.

"Now, go gather your things. We must be leaving as soon as we are able."

He began to pull away, but her grip remained as steel as she continued to stare up at him, and her face fell into an expectant expression, waiting.

[Sheldon Esalis]

Oh come on...every single time?

Uh...

"Iloveyoumother..."

[R. S. Esalis]

Satisfied, she released him, taking a small step back and giving him a parting nod.

"Thank you."




* * *



The Tairgess was a ship that ran on precise clockwork, and followed the letter of Imperial law. Her captain, Kor Irased, was a man that demanded strict obedience from his crew, and they gave it unconditionally.

So when Director Esalis and her son stepped from their shuttle and onto the metal decking of the hangar bay, he was waiting for them. And, standing at loose attention, with hands behind her back, was a slim, flame-haired woman donning Imperial black.

Una Rakesh stood with an impassive expression that matched the Director's own, watching as mother and son approached.

[Sheldon Esalis]

I'm not a military guy. It's just not my style. Waking up at dawn, showering with other dudes, and obeying orders. I'm a free spirit, and I don't need all that conformity. But I will say one thing the Imperial military (whatever rebel/terrorist/cultist/criminal militia is guarding some dirt planet in the outer rim doesn't count) gets absolutely right is fashion. I love the understated color tones, the leather knee boots, the reinforced shoulders. An Imperial uniform, you could run the sabacc tables in Naboo and still look like you belong there, same as you could on a Star Destroyer. I mean look at those lines. They're goddamned perfect. Seriously, what was our defense budget allottment for "looking goddamned good" because I think we may have gone over budget there! You find me a Rebel that looks that good? Their uniform is whatever smells the cleanest. It's that kind of respect and espirit de corps that I can get behind, uh, in theory.

Now, that being said, I don't wear a uniform. While I technically hold the rank of Commander in the Imperial Navy, I am an Agent of Intel, and so I am plainclothes. Which is pretty badass because you can almost hear the collective assholes of 300 stormtroopers clinch when you walk by, as if they're asking "Who is that (fucking handsome) civilian?" And then the buddy next to them goes "That's not a civilian, douchehole, he's black ops, maaan." Then more asshole clinching. And you know they're still talking about it. When they're in the community shower. Together.

I was going to say something else here, but hang on, hot redhead.

[Una Rakesh]

Her brief interactions with the Director of Intel had been mostly full of formality and instruction. Never one word otherwise. So when Director Esalis came into view, traveling down the boarding ramp with another agent in tow, Una Rakesh narrowed her eyes. Her stance did not shift, but her gaze swept from the woman to the man accompanying her.

He had a sort of very muted swagger that no one without training would detect, but to her it was unmistakeable.

Just as unmistakeable as the look she received from him.

Her neutral stare changed to a frown, and the red-headed agent steeled herself. The Director had said that the two would be working together.

This new mission was going to be hell.

[R. S. Esalis]

Slowing her pace as she neared the pair, Esalis finally came to a stop before Captain Irased.

"Captain."

He nodded. "Madam Director."

"Your crew are ready to depart?"

"They are, Ma'am."

Esalis gave an approving nod, both as an acknowledgment and as an order that their short conversation was over. Irased was an astute man, and stepped to the side to allow her passage onto the rest of his ship.

It was an invitation that the Director did not necessarily need, but she graciously took it regardless. A small hand gesture, and both Sheldon and Agent Rakesh fell into step behind her, heading from the hangar bay.

[Sheldon Esalis]

Falling far enough behind Mother to be out of earshoot, I glanced at the ginger matahari, and made informal introductions.

"Rakesh? Agent Esalis. You'll be assigned to me, from what I hear."

Ass-igned, more like. Wonder if that hair color was real. Totally gonna find out.

[Una Rakesh]

"It seems that way, yes."

Una kept her eyes forward, unwilling to even afford Agent Esalis a peripheral look. Inwardly, her mind was racing. How often would they truly have to be around each other? Gods forbid they'd have to share the same quarters - not only on the mission, but on the trip to Carida. How few words can she get away with expending on this man? Would she actually have to look at him for longer than five consecutive seconds?

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Well, you picked a good partner, Rakesh. I'm the best agent in the Empire."

The conversation paused a bit as we got into the lift, but once we were walking again, I kept it up.

"So, what's your specialization? Assassination? Espionage? Covert Ops?"

Me? I don't specialize. I'm in expert in all of them. More or less.

[Una Rakesh]

"Deep insertion specialist."

The words were out of her mouth as if on instinct, and the hung in the air like dangling, raw meat, waiting to be eaten up by a sandpanther. Una suppressed the look of horror that she wanted to let show.

Her hands clasped one another just a hair tighter.

"I have been on many assignments behind the line. Very quiet and unassuming affairs. There are times when subtlety works far better than obnoxious posturing."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"I (cough)'m sorry, what?"

I bit down on my lower lip but otherwise kept it business casual.

"...on Corellia?"

Well she did say deep insertion, right?

The rest was blah blah blah this is how to do the job I already know because I am awesome.

[Sarah Lymia]

“And you pulled me off of Eriadu for what exactly?”

Sarah was…displeased…between the constant calling of various missions, the fiasco on Bespin (her first one-on-one with a darksider at that), the mop-up work all the job's collateral damage entailed, plus trying to maintain somewhat of a social life in the living hell and insanity associated with the Inquisitoriate; she almost never had the time to do what she was actually hired to do.

And here she was riding shotgun on an Imperial Navy ship, not a day after landing on Coruscant, and heading back out to the rim.

And did she mention that it was a Navy ship!

“Why the hell aren’t we on the Morning Star? Or the Crimson Harvest?”

[Karl Valten]

The man sitting across from her was no less pleased, though for different reasons. Sarah was young for an Inquisitor, one of the youngest actually, but her skill sets did make up for him having to put up with this. Obligations to ghosts past also made sure he tolerated the quirks of youth.

“The Inquisitoriate doesn’t just pull assets from Eriadu. And, more of our applicants come from Academy on Carida than your drill-plaza.”

He did genuinely like the girl, but she was more…upstart, if that was the correct word….than other Inquisitors. Hell she even openly opposed Valten’s decisions at least once or twice a month. Fortunately or unfortunately she was often right too.

“Morning Star is currently undergoing refits and Crimson Harvest is an active combat vessel. I am not dragging one of our few operational warships to a simple evaluation.”

To be fair, Karl loathed depending on the Navy for transportation as much as they loathed the Inquisitoriate.

[Sarah Lymia]

More spooks from the Intel Academy? Well that was just fantastic.

“Ugh, so why didn’t you call the Devaronian?”

Inquisitor Jakys’Sei’Trem had originally worked with intelligence and had far more clout than she did. That and she wouldn’t have to waste her time on useless trips.

“The Guard isn’t as good as they should, we lost three on Cloud City. I should…no….I need…to be on Eriadu. What the hell do you want me to do anyway? Twiddle me thumbs and nod?”

Where the bulk of the Inquisitors were very cloak-and-dagger, she preferred being much more direct. And sitting in at would undoubtedly be strict, procedural, and completely pompous (in other words, perfectly Imperial) ceremony was not the best use of her time.

“Simple evaluation my ass!”

[Karl Valten]

Karl had to smirk at that one.

“Exactly. At least you’re starting to catch on.”

The Grand Inquisitor shifted in his seat, looking out the window as the shuttle rumbled its way through the last layers of atmosphere. The perpetual light of the city-planet slowly began to fade behind leaving only glowing contours.
Such a small orb in the blackness and cold of space for being the most important place in the galaxy.

“Sei’Trem is off on assignment.” Valten raised his voice and rapidly cut in before Inquisitor Lymia could interrupt with whatever snide bickering she could think of. “And you have a different touch with people than he does[/I]”

Jakys, despite being an alien, could establish rapport with new acquaintances faster than anyone he’d ever met. Make friends not long after. And have them fawning over him with only a few subtle hours. The man was one of the best under-cover operatives and investigator in the Inquisitoriate.

Stolen over from the Department of Intelligence as well. A good-get as they say.

“He and I can watch, listen, and pick them apart…..but you can feel them on an even baser level. We need that kind of insight into our recruits.”

[Sarah Lymia]

Oh that was rich. She could always tell when he wasn’t telling the full truth, it must drive him nuts.

“By which you mean keep an eye for potential adepts.” Sarah sighed and shook her head sending a gentle cascade through her snow-white hair.

For the briefest instant she caught the edges of his lips twitch into a smile as his eyes flicked from starship to starship outside the viewport.

Wait….what?

“Is this another one of your tests?”

She reached out with the force, prodding as subtlety as she could manage. Maybe she couldn’t read him as well as she thought.

[Karl Valten]

“Everything is a test.”

He didn’t bother looking at the woman. Too much time with the Inquisitoriate had both sharpened and dulled his senses in different ways. But he could always tell the tiniest scratching at the back of his mind.

Almost unconsciously he clamped down on the tickling of invisible fingers trying to find leverage into his thoughts. Across the shuttle, Inquisitor Lymia gasped as if she’d been slapped across the face.

“Don't you ever get tired of that? Do you really think you can possibly get into my head.”

[Sarah Lymia]

Ow! Just ow!

Have you ever been sucker-punched to the face before? Yes? Well imagine that sucker-punch is just a wall of emotion going straight through your skin, muscles, and brain but not actually being to physically feel anything.

Now imagine that you are hypersensitive to energy like that.

It wasn’t an attack, Valten wasn’t an adept, he couldn’t possibly pull something like that. But she was messing around in his brain where he had infinitely more control than her.

[Karl Valten]

Valten did turn to face Sarah this time. Silence was not a customary thing with her…and neither was brooding.

The Grand Inquisitor raised an eyebrow.

“Are you just going to sit there and pout?”

Stars and space turned to steel and stares. The shuttle smoothly crossed the magnetic barrier to the docking bay of the Tairgess drawing the eyes of everyone on the deck. It wasn’t every day the black and crimson vessels of the Inquisitoriate landed your ship.

Valten stood to move towards the exit.

[Sarah Lymia]

She watched Valten stand to his feet and move towards the airlock.

“Yeah, yeah. The great and mysterious Grand Inquisitor Valten.”

Sarah stood up, still fuming inside as she grabbed her bag. Even before the next words were out of her mouth, she knew she had crossed a line.

“No one gets in and you don’t get out, huh? No one to share anything with. Seriously what’s up with you? Ever since….”

[Karl Valten]

“Don’t!”

Karl’s voice never raised, but Sarah still just up in her tracks. The Grand Inquisitor hadn’t even realized he placed his hand on the hilt of the sword sheathed at his waste until he followed Lymia’s gaze.

He took a deep breath to calm his mind and pulled his had away from the weapons. He blade should only be drawn with the intention to draw blood. And he was not about to pull a blade on one of his own anytime soon.

“Mind whom you are speaking to, Inquisitor Lymia.”

Without a moments more hesitation, Valten stepped down the boarding ramp.

“We have a job to do.”

[Sarah Lymia]

“Yes my Lord.”

Valten was out of sight before she realized that she had been holding her breath. Sarah gulped down the lump that had formed at the back of her throat.

She was an empath in a way, the most subtle of feelings and emotions were her playthings to feed off of. Valten was almost always a black hole of…nothingness...it was the strangest feeling.

But the emotions that just boiled off of him now were even stranger. Terrifying even, because she didn’t think he was even capable of it.

Regret? Remorse? Something different?

And she knew why.

“….I’m sorry…”

Sarah didn’t know if she was apologizing to Valten or herself.

[Sheldon Esalis]

I glanced back just in time to see the other half of the guest ticket arriving.

"Goddamnit, freakshow on our six."

The Inquisitorius. A motley freak show of legit spooks, and just spooky people. People who still considered capes and wearing swords in public to be apropos fashion statements. Was I jealous that they got better perks, better funding, and better assignments? Hell no. Well. Yes. Assholes.

Technically, we were all same team. Go Team Empire! But being what I'd call in no small means a maestro in the arts of tradecraft, I took a dim view of special headcases that could just wiggle their arms in the air dramatically and suddenly it's Steve is a Rebel! I have...sensed it!

You are full of shit, how's that? I can sense things too!

Of course the blonde riding shotgun with Inquisitor Karl von Creepenstein was also a looker, even if she had crazy eyes.

[Una Rakesh]

Una turned to look over her shoulder, her frown suddenly matching Sheldon's as she felt her entire body bunch up into a tight bundle of instant nerves.

For as much of an arrogant asshole as Sheldon was, his assessment of the two-person party now approaching was dead-on accurate.

Freakshow indeed.

"I hate these guys," she muttered under her breath.

[R. S. Esalis]

Pausing, Director Esalis turned to see the objects of her son's ire striding towards them.

Agent Rakesh turned to look as well, and Esalis noted the woman's body tense beneath the uniform she wore.

It was the natural reaction most had when gazing upon the men and women of the Inquisitoriate, and only a fair few were immune to it.

For her part, the Director remained impassive.

She watched the two come closer, blinking as she noted the crisp pace and stern expression of the Grand Inquisitor. It was a look that she had only seen on rare occasion.

Her back seemed to straighten even more, as her hands clasped together behind her and her chin angled upward only ever-so-much as she watched the two close the distance.

[Karl Valten]

The exchange on the shuttle and managing the rare mistake of provoking Valten’s bad side raised Sarah’s paranoia a bit higher than the Inquisitorial average…which was saying something.

She trailed to the side and behind Valten, opposite his blade-side and a just a touch beyond what was expected for professional appearances.

But if there was an image that the Inquisitoriate had, Valten flawlessly shifted his stance upon sight of the other guests. Only the closest of his confidants could have read the thoughts playing under his skin.

The Grand Inquisitor smiled and put on an air of cordial enthusiasm. Playing politics the last several years had helped his acting a great deal.

“Veritas Vincit.”

He pulled short of the group of Intelligence operatives and their enigmatic leader.

“Madame Director, it is always a pleasure to see you.” Valten bowed respectively to the Esalis and greeted the agents in turn as well.

“Agents.”

[Sarah Lymia]

Deep down, she knew Valten was still thinking about her outburst on the ride over to the Imperial warship.

But business was business and he somehow worked the Grand Inquisitor-y magic. Honestly, it had to be witchcraft or something. Because Karl honestly could almost put on a better show than the Empress herself when he wanted to. It was kind of creepy as hell.

Sarah cared little about the Director Esalis. Valten could schmuse to his heart’s content.

She eyed over the other agents. The red-head looked shifted from annoyance to high strung as she caught sight of the Inquisitors. Her emotions sent ripples through the force that Lymia picked up right away.

Huh,no fear. That was respectable. Just apprehension…and for some reason a simmering of utter disdain directed in a completely different direction.

Confused, the young Inquisitor turned he attention to the other agent.
Ah, that was it. Some might call it women’s telepathy, but the auburn’s feelings and the thoughts riding openly and this clown’s sleeves instant set off her asshole alarm.

Hell she didn’t have to be an empathy to pick up on someone eye-banging her. Granted he was pretty good looking…but still…asshole. Might as well mess with him a bit.

“Freakshow?”

She smiled slightly as both Una and Sheldon mentally coughed (she couldn’t pick up so much as a tremor in the force from the Director) in surprise. No normal person could have heard his whispered jibe from twenty meters out.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

[Sheldon Esalis]

Playing nonchalant, I gave a little shrug.

"You're right. I'm just talking out of hurt feelings. I left my black eyeliner and my smoke machine in my other jacket, so it makes for an awkward double date."

A little headnod toward Rakesh.

"At least she's got knee-high pleather, so I guess three out of four for Korriban Horror Holo Show ain't bad."

[Sarah Lymia]

Well now, not the professional type at all? Valten wouldn't be please...and the Director probably wasn't either.

Heh, two could play this game. Sarah jumped in before Valten, Rakesh, or Esalis could even cut in.

"So that would make you the necrophiliac transvestite with a fishnet fetish!"

She mockingly pursed her lips.

"Or was it incestuous transvesitie with a necrophilia fetish? I still haven't really figured it out."

[R. S. Esalis]

There was not one iota of a pause as the Director's voice interjected swiftly before her son could retort.

"That is enough," came the level order, spoken mostly to Sheldon, but with enough carry-over to extend to the younger Inquisitor as well.

"Confine your squabbles elsewhere, or I will make sure to do it for you both."

Her stern gaze passed between the younger Esalis and the blonde before settling upon Valten.

"I do not think that either of you would like the alternative."