Flies and Spiders

[Dresden Verbrennung]

Now that was an interesting take on things; a liar that wasn't very good at reading people.

Of course, Dresden wasn't sure that [member="The Major"] was a liar. She seemed the type, of course, but hey, you never really know.

"So basically, you want me to sit down with prospective candidates and interview them? That sounds simple enough, but there's a pretty major complication. The sorts of folks you want for this are going to be the most difficult to recruit, especially if they're worth a damn."

He took a couple long puffs from his cigarette, then snubbed it out in the mound of faux explosive putty on his desk.

"For starters, they're going to have to be reasonably intelligent, and also reasonably suspicious. Any sort of op like this is going to send up all kinds of red flags, especially coming from an agent that doesn't officially exist and a semi-disgraced Station Chief. Someone like that is almost by definition going to be loyal enough not to want to hurt the First Order, and smart enough not to want to get caught up in any sort of political backlash, which is almost going to be a certainty. Not saying that we can't find folks that'll go along, mind, just that it's not going to be easy. It would almost be easier to stick to mercs and folks who can be easily leveraged."

 

[The Major]

There was a great deal of difference between someone claiming a certain skill was a weak trait, and that trait being something mediocre. While she truly continued nothing sinister, at least towards the much esteemed Mr. V, in her heart, this sort of improvised incompetence was something a latent habit. Certain fighters in the sparring ring known as life used a tactic in which they purposefully left something exposed in order to entice the opponent to attack that area, punishing them with a preordained counter. It took a lot of practice to pull off, but after so much if became something of a reflex. At least, that's what the good book had etched on paper.

"As the saying goes: nothing easy is worthwhile. Look at what you've done on just this station. The duty roster has almost been completely redone in the short time you've been here. You've already been vetting candidates for some time. In fact, if one was to be so bold, these recruits wouldn't even have to exactly know what they are doing; just that they knew they were doing something. After all, an assignment to assess an admiral or general or Moff isn't exactly outside the realm of what we already do."

[member="Dresden Verbrennung"]

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

"No, it's not," Dresden conceded with a shrug. "But typically, we're assessing foreign individuals rather than our own leadership."

The former mercenary sighed, then leaned back in his chair. For whatever reason, he suddenly felt exhausted. It hadn't been a terribly long day, he hadn't been awake longer than usual. But he felt like he had. Trying to make heads or tails of this conversation was taxing in the extreme. He felt like he was trying to juggle while walking on a tightrope and perform calculus all in his head.

"Let's face it, whether or not this is an officially sanctioned mission is going to be irrelevant if we can't recruit people, and we're not going to be able to do that without some sort of proof that they're not going to be strung up by their heels for playing along. Putting my pretty little face on the cover of this thing ain't gonna convince anyone, Miss S. If anything, it'll just convince half the best agents that this is some sort of setup. You're gonna have to have some sort of proof, some physical proof, that you've got the authority to pull this off before we can even think of trying. If not, you might as well pack it in."

[member="The Major"]

 

[The Major]

A critical error in operation was only a slip of the tongue away at this very point. It would incredibly stupid to answer Dresden's last comments directly, because it was clearly framed in such a way for the recipient to reveal a lot more by their answer then they might possibly realize. The Major detected such subtle craft at work, and was impressed by it.

Clearly, this man was Station Chief for a reason -and he knew his stuff.

Nevertheless, Mr. V looked tired, and there was a lot of exasperation and fatigue that was expressed with that last sigh. On the one hand it gave her the impression she was annoying him, and on the other hand she could assume the polite thing and just admit that this man got tired when interacting with anything that wasn't internal machine components for too long.

A more haughty woman might take offense, but Sybil knew she was young. There was a lot she had managed to accomplish to her credit, and there were clearly times when one had to let things simmer, and even let her comrades rest.

"You make excellent points." She finishes the drink, wraps the bottle in a tissue, and returns the whole lot of into her pocket.

"Protocol always takes precedence." A wide, chippy smile splays upon her face.

"I've taken enough of your time tonight. Thank you for meeting with me, Chief. With your permission we can touch base again." The happy veneer peels off for a serious, respectful mood, and Sybil offers Dresden a noble bow after standing.

[member="Dresden Verbrennung"]

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

"Before you go," Dresden said, rising to see her out, "I've got a quick question."

There was a faint series of pops from his joints as the lanky human unfolded himself from the chair. Thanks to his perpetual slouch, few people truly realized how tall he was before he stood up. He damn well knew. Being tall had its advantages, like reaching things from high shelves and being able to dust on top of ceiling fans, but it wreaked slow havoc on his joints.

He walked over to the door, stiffness slowly working its way out of his stride. He opened it, and returned the bow, albeit to a lesser degree.

"Shall I be expecting you to stop by again, or is this a one off sort of thing?"

[member="The Major"]

 

[The Major]

It was clear she wasn't used to having to stare upwards even a little to look someone in the eyes. For a moment, the Major glances back towards Dresden's desk, and then peers back with more conviction.

"I thought it was obvious. It would be a pleasure to talk again and work together, Chief." But before that, she had a little business to conduct with a certain mechanical peddler of fine cutlery a few systems away.

"We misanthropes have to stick together, after all."

With that, she exits, though not necessarily hurrying along.

All in all, she was quite happy there was at least one other bloody guy on this duty roster that was at least a little normal. Even if the conversation didn't exactly lead to the paths she wanted to take it was very informative nonetheless.

(exit)​

[member="Dresden Verbrennung"]​