Training Day

[Davin Jusik]

A green desk fan whirred silently on a dark oak desk, sending small gusts of cold air across the barren environment before it. There was a small bipedal bug that valiantly attempted to cross the wind-stricken plain before it that seemed to stretch outward into eternity. Onward. Always onward the fiercely determined bug went, though the odds were stacked completely against it. A pair of eyes belonging to a much larger being eyed the creature curiously.

Special Agent Rick Muller sat behind the desk in a small no window room in the Cantina the FOSB kept a lease on in the center of Avalonia. His recent promotion had brought on newfound responsibilities, one of which happened to be running new Agents through the ringer a time or two. He sat with a slightly cheerful demeanor, that had become the norm of late, fiddling with his pen/cigarette, watching the bug move slowly on it's way before glancing at his watch. There was still a fair bit of time before the hopefuls were expected to arrive. Though he shared the view of Stormtrooper Drill Instructors when it pertained to punctuality. "If you're on time you're late. If you're early you're on time." The thirty year old mumbled to himself softly before chuckling.

How many of the recruits would be comfortable with the level of deception required for this line of work? Most marks weren't inherently bad folk, just at odds with the First Order for one reason or another. Some buried that reality and substituted their own, filled with the absolutes of their propaganda filled upbringing. Amin hadn't hated his enemies in a few years. The fire of delusional youth had burned itself out over years of brutal violence and conflict.

"What a happy thought." He mumbled again aloud. Giving a slight bittersweet smile before taking a long drag from the cancer stick.

 

[Progflaw99]

She'd been sipping from a small glass for the better part of an hour, a half finished sandwich on the plate in front of her. She took a drag from the half burned cigarette before returning it to the ashtray. She'd been casing the place since she arrived, developing a baseline. She'd ordered a glass of water and a small sandwich that had been on special. It wasn't particularly great tasting, but that wasn't the point. Casually she went back to her data-pad, pretending to read the news, flicking from screen to screen. This was the place.

Her name was Mira. She'd come to Avalonia a month ago as part of a merchant crew but they'd split over a week ago. She'd spent a week in custody over a fight she'd started across town, now she was on the hunt, the hunt for a job. If anyone were to look, the screen of her datapad was filled with job classifieds, anything from maintenance to interior cleaning. For all intents and purposes, she was looking for a job, but not one she'd find in the classifieds. Her eyes carefully scanned the room before returning to her thoughts. She'd picked up the drop about two days ago, it had been orchestrated well, the small message indicating that there was a cantina on the other side of town where the meet would happen. It was innocent enough but Mira wasn't taking any chances. Nothing in the summons had specified that they were to show up in uniform. In fact, the fact that it hadn't specified was a clear message to her that if she showed up in uniform she could expect to be dropped, possibly even re-assigned to a rank and file trooper group. Those days were behind her.

As she flicked the screen once more, a shuffle of movement at the door caught her attention. Several First Order soldiers had just entered, their loud voices and dress uniforms glaring. They'd chosen a table across the room, all of them had to have been younger than 25. A casual glance at where their ribbons and campaign medals should have been told her everything she needed to know about them. Devoid of any major campaign medals, they appeared to be fresh out of the meat grinder, the informal term for one of the many basic training centers of the First Order. Had she not ended up where she was now, it was very likely that could have been her... or maybe it had been at one point. The thought sent a wry smirk sneaking its way across her features. It was time. She slid a few credits underneath the edge of the plate on the table and rose. She had chosen to wear a casual outfit, fitting well but leaving enough room for movement if the need arose. To any normal bystander she would appear to be another simple day worker, nothing terribly fancy.

She moved carefully through between the tables, headed for a hall in the back part of the cantina, a small sign indicating there were restrooms at the end. She knew there was an office or two down the hallway as well, she'd seen a few people move through the hallway earlier, stopping at various doors along the way. Making her way down the hall she stopped just short of a solid metal door. Looking back over her shoulder, Mira checked to see if anyone had followed her. Satisfied she was alone, she pressed her body up against the wall next to the door, crouching slightly. With two sharp knocks, she rapped on the door just loud enough to be heard by any occupants of the room but not so hard it would rattle in the hall.

This was the spot. This was the door. Instructions had been outlined in the note she'd received. Now all she could do was wait.

[member="Rick Müller"]​

 

[Davin Jusik]

"Enter." Rick said to the closed door that [member="Val Kordova"] currently stood behind. Smoke rolled from his mouth, bearing a slight resemblance to a house fire or active volcano. He wondered which of the new Agents had arrived with a passing interest, still almost totally enthralled by the struggling creature before him. The cigarette in his hand had burned to an uncomfortable level. Amin allowed it to lightly burn his hand. The skin seared slightly.

Amin discarded the cigarette and spoke before the door even completely opened. "Name?"

 

[Progflaw99]

The woman slid inside the door quickly, gently sealing it behind her as she passed through. Her eyes quickly landed on the man behind the desk, a large haze of smoke filled the air. How long had this man been waiting here? He spoke almost immediately the burning ember of a discarded cigarette catching her eye briefly. That explained the haze. She eyed the man, carefully. Even in a 'safe' environment you couldn't be too careful. For all she knew, he could be there to kill her. Such were the stresses of the day to day life of an FOSB field agent... and yet, she lived for it. It wasn't glorious, it wasn't what one would consider fun... but it was her, and she was it. She spoke, a slight stutter in her voice. Was that planned? Or had it just happened?

"I.. M.. My name is Mira. I heard there might be work... I'm hard up for credits..." She looked at the man, nervously clasping her hands in front of her.

Mira, as inconspicuously as possible shifted from directly in front of the door off to the side. No telling when someone or something would come barging or blasting through that door. Her gaze rose from the floor to the man's face. He wasn't particularly bad looking, rough maybe. He had an air about him, countless years of training likely hid all traces of who he might have been in a previous life, but it couldn't hide the telltale signs of wear and tear on the body without significant reconstructive surgery. She could only guess military of some sort, but that was better than nothing. It meant she wasn't dealing with an unpredictable maniac, at least not yet. She'd play her part until it was readily apparent that all semblance of danger was gone... though in part she knew it could never be fully safe. Even the room they were in could be bugged and so she'd made the safe play, continuing using her alias and assumed identity.

[member="Rick Müller"]​

 

[Davin Jusik]

Rick took a long moment to eye the woman before him. He gruffly put out his smoke and grunted as he shook his head slightly as he pulled a file marked "Mira" from within the confines of his chest of wonders, or desk. The Agent flipped through a few pages with a rather disinterested expression. "Mira Mira Mira Mira." He mumbled as [member="Val Kordova"] stood before him.

"Have you ever done this before?" Amin asked in a neutral tone, leveling his gaze at the woman as he did so, making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. Before a prospective operative had completed their first operation it was best to keep them at a safe distance, as more than a few experienced horrible fates during the course of said assignment. One of the more interesting deaths had involved a volcano and a propeller plane. The trainee had been mid flight when a sudden and almost impossible mathematical occurrence manifested itself in the form of a bolt of lightning. Said lightning caused the plane to plummet into the mouth of an active volcano that may or may not have been a rebel stronghold. Command had opted for aerial bombardment after what seemed to be an angry deity of some sort interfered with their intelligence gathering. Better total ecological devastation for a planet than even one reb getting away.

 

[Progflaw99]

Looking back at the man she met his gaze briefly before breaking eye contact. She looked to the door and then back to the man. What was he getting after? She had almost forgotten the protocol. Sure the note she'd received was pretty clear, but there tended to be an excess amount of doubletalk, even for a field agent like herself. She shook it off, dusting off the old memory banks. While it seemed like something out of a holo-flick, she knew there was a reason for the question. Even the agent's handlers needed some sense of security that they were in fact talking to their agents and not a stand in. The way things had been run was extremely up in the air, this was the first time in many months that Mira had met with any of the leadership of the FOSB, and if the changes that were being hinted at were to take effect, it likely wouldn't be the last either. More confidently this time she spoke in reply to the man's question.

"A couple of times, though it's been a while."

What they were talking about, only the two knew but for all intents and purposes, to an eavesdropper it would sound like any number of illicit deals or 'get credits quick' scheme. While it might not technically be legal, a lowlife wasn't likely to report overhearing it in a cantina, especially if they didn't want to be taken themselves to one of the re-education camps on Dosuun or elsewhere. Calmly the woman approached the desk, her eyes catching the slight movement of the bug, still fighting against the force of the fan. She wondered if that's how the rest of the world felt, just fighting against the fan their entire life. She didn't have that problem. As a field agent with the First Order she felt less like a bug, and more in control, able to turn the fan on her enemies or opposition. As she approached, she moved the rickety chair from in front of the desk and lightly set herself in it.

"So how's this rodeo work then?"

[member="Rick Müller"]​

 

[Davin Jusik]

"You don't really need to worry here, it's swept daily and if anyone here were to run their mouths.... well they won't. We do appreciate the discretion though." Amin said as he trifled through his desk before pulling out a second, thinner file and tossing it to [member="Val Kordova"]. "We'll be doing a bit of police work, little unorthodox but it's been mandated. Memorize the contents and place it in the incinerator to your left. The assignment comes with a time limit, and the job will be passed on to others. It would be a mark you wouldn't want on your short record. Feel free to take a moment with it. Your fellows don't seem to have your punctuality."

Amin gave a yawn and took a lean back in his chair, musing a bit if their even were any other candidates. It was an issue that was a byproduct of the extreme compartmentalization of being a member of an organization that prided itself in secrecy. It was completely conceivable that the others had been eliminated for one reason or another.

 

[Progflaw99]

She smiled coyly. She'd suspected the entire establishment was really a front the moment she walked in but now her suspicions were confirmed as the man before her spoke. She seemed to relax. Slightly. Her eyes locked onto the folder, he fingers nimbly catching and opening it. Her eyes scanned the pages it contained, memorizing word for word the details of the outlined work. After reading through it once, she went back to the top, reading through it once more before casually tossing it into the incinerator. A short mechanical whirr and the incinerator wobbled slightly before emitting a short flash and a tiny waft of smoke. She'd memorized the the file in just a few short minutes.

"So... You said a time limit. What does our calendar look like, and will I have any help on this one, or is it a solo objective?"

She pulled out a box of cigarettes, pausing as she slid one free of the foil lining.

"You don't mind do you?"

Chances were she'd light one up anyway. Personally she couldn't stand the things but she was good at what she did. Flicking a small lighter open she lit the tip, a small waft of smoke rising from the freshly lit cancer stick. Mira leaned back in the chair now, genuinely intrigued in the work at hand.

[member="Rick Müller"] |​