Jon Hojkstra
no rest for the wicked
Undisclosed Location,
Dark Imperial Space
During the whole blindfolded journey to where the Bureau had set their meeting with him, Jon Hojkstra's mind was brimming with doubt. The intel they had sent him anonymously of the convention of corrupt moffs and warlords on Carlac had been solid; putting men and women, whose sick ambitions had brought ruin to his nation, in the grave was, as far as he was concerned, a righteous act.
But the ex-storm commando was no idiot.
The Bureau was no charitable organization, handing out free hits in the name of virtue. It had a ruthless agenda and interests to follow. Now, whose interests was a question with divergent answers. His past experiences had taught him that every officer looked out for their own interests, and personal gain often outweighed any sense of duty.
On Carlac their interests had aligned.
And they wouldn't be bringing him in if they didn't feel they might have some mutual interests down the line.
Let's see about that...
As the blindfold was removed by one of the two imposing ISB enforcers, Jon blinked against the sudden brightness that flooded the room. Squinting, he made out the outlines of the departing enforcers, leaving him alone in what appeared to be an interrogation room. No guns on him, but no restraints. But then again every Bureau room looked like an interrogation room.
For all he knew, maybe these creeps' own homes looked like torture chambers.
With a grim frown on his face, the veteran waited for whoever it was to join him.
Kazian Blackwood Sabine Korvan