Pierce Tondry
Feb 20th, 2002, 07:41:50 PM
"There exists in all things, the potential for change. Know a thing, know its' possibilities, and know it anew."
Inside his freighter, Long Shot I Pierce Tondry was on edge.
He had been on edge awhile back, during the search for Ivanrue Tondry, the man who was his grandfather. It was an edge of desperation, of sensing that the goal could be reached but continuously failing to attain it. The pressure to manage both his search and his job nearly drove him insane. Still, Pierce had survived, and the Intelligence operative considered himself stronger for the effort.
And yet.
And yet, his current worries were equally demanding. He had a wife and son that he could tell no one about. He had a grandfather who was helping him to commit treason against the organization he'd held dear for twenty years. He had former operatives that he counted as friends working for the very government he'd sought to destroy.
There are times when it feels like Darth Vader might rise from his grave and track me down in the middle of my job. I'd wake up one morning, shower, get dressed, leave my quarters, then suddenly hear heavy breathing over my shoulder and know that was it."
It crossed Pierce's mind, as he crossed his ship's cabin, to wonder whether his infant son Jax would adjudge his current plans to be good twenty years from now.
"Now stop that idiot worrying," he said aloud, stopping abruptly in his tracks. The still air inside his cabin, which had felt oppressive, stirred in curiosity.
"I started on this path with good intentions," Pierce continued quietly, so that not even the air could hear him. "Whatever happens from here on out, I have to see it through or else those intentions were for nothing."
The very act of speaking the words seemed to lift a weight from Pierce's shoulders. With its' power thus broken, the air stirred and then went drowsily to sleep, no longer interested in attempting to cow its' prey.
In the sudden silence, a raspy breathing could now be heard.
Pierce jumped and spun towards the door of his cabin, whipping out a flechette pistol. No one was there, and as time continued Pierce realized that it was his own breathing that he had heard.
You are jumping at shadows, Lieutenant Tondry. You will stop that now.
The thought of his New Republic Intelligence rank brought him full circle to the thing that had started his worries in the first place: a message on a datapad that he'd carried with him off Chandrila, a message currently sitting on top of his bunk where anyone could see it, were they to walk in.
Attn: Pierce Tondry, Imperial Intelligence
After a thorough debriefing of the agents that were taken into custody as well as testimony from certain of our own officers, the New Republic Intelligence heirarchy can only assume that you are, in fact, genuine in your request for admission to our ranks for yourself and officers under your command. The offices of the NRI Joint Chiefs are aware of the serious danger presented to you in your current situation. You are advised to lie low and wait for contact from us before further action is taken.
Your interim rank is Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Imperial Intelligence contact liason. Welcome to the New Republic, and May the Force be with you.
From the Office of General Airen Cracken.
Pierce took a deep, calming breath, reconstructing in his mind the image of a brick wall in order to help him relax. Then he went over the message again in his mind.
Lie low. Fat chance of that. What he'd started was tumbling to a conclusion like a stack of dominos. Only action now could remove the critical pieces that would cause the stack to collapse in on itself and prevent the conclusion he sought. It was up to Pierce to get as many Intel agents to side with him when the last domino fell.
Pierce left the Long Shot a driven man.
Inside his freighter, Long Shot I Pierce Tondry was on edge.
He had been on edge awhile back, during the search for Ivanrue Tondry, the man who was his grandfather. It was an edge of desperation, of sensing that the goal could be reached but continuously failing to attain it. The pressure to manage both his search and his job nearly drove him insane. Still, Pierce had survived, and the Intelligence operative considered himself stronger for the effort.
And yet.
And yet, his current worries were equally demanding. He had a wife and son that he could tell no one about. He had a grandfather who was helping him to commit treason against the organization he'd held dear for twenty years. He had former operatives that he counted as friends working for the very government he'd sought to destroy.
There are times when it feels like Darth Vader might rise from his grave and track me down in the middle of my job. I'd wake up one morning, shower, get dressed, leave my quarters, then suddenly hear heavy breathing over my shoulder and know that was it."
It crossed Pierce's mind, as he crossed his ship's cabin, to wonder whether his infant son Jax would adjudge his current plans to be good twenty years from now.
"Now stop that idiot worrying," he said aloud, stopping abruptly in his tracks. The still air inside his cabin, which had felt oppressive, stirred in curiosity.
"I started on this path with good intentions," Pierce continued quietly, so that not even the air could hear him. "Whatever happens from here on out, I have to see it through or else those intentions were for nothing."
The very act of speaking the words seemed to lift a weight from Pierce's shoulders. With its' power thus broken, the air stirred and then went drowsily to sleep, no longer interested in attempting to cow its' prey.
In the sudden silence, a raspy breathing could now be heard.
Pierce jumped and spun towards the door of his cabin, whipping out a flechette pistol. No one was there, and as time continued Pierce realized that it was his own breathing that he had heard.
You are jumping at shadows, Lieutenant Tondry. You will stop that now.
The thought of his New Republic Intelligence rank brought him full circle to the thing that had started his worries in the first place: a message on a datapad that he'd carried with him off Chandrila, a message currently sitting on top of his bunk where anyone could see it, were they to walk in.
Attn: Pierce Tondry, Imperial Intelligence
After a thorough debriefing of the agents that were taken into custody as well as testimony from certain of our own officers, the New Republic Intelligence heirarchy can only assume that you are, in fact, genuine in your request for admission to our ranks for yourself and officers under your command. The offices of the NRI Joint Chiefs are aware of the serious danger presented to you in your current situation. You are advised to lie low and wait for contact from us before further action is taken.
Your interim rank is Lieutenant, Junior Grade, Imperial Intelligence contact liason. Welcome to the New Republic, and May the Force be with you.
From the Office of General Airen Cracken.
Pierce took a deep, calming breath, reconstructing in his mind the image of a brick wall in order to help him relax. Then he went over the message again in his mind.
Lie low. Fat chance of that. What he'd started was tumbling to a conclusion like a stack of dominos. Only action now could remove the critical pieces that would cause the stack to collapse in on itself and prevent the conclusion he sought. It was up to Pierce to get as many Intel agents to side with him when the last domino fell.
Pierce left the Long Shot a driven man.