“First field op?” Agent Red asked, glancing at Maria from across the shuttle. That was actually his name-Jonathan Red, and, apparently, he was tired of being asked that by new recruits.
“Yes sir.” Maria said, not particularly nervous-she was familiar with the numbers, and the last Trainee to be killed, or even seriously injured on their first op-always specially selected to be relatively routine, after all-had been years ago.
“Yes sir.” Maria said, not particularly nervous-she was familiar with the numbers, and the last Trainee to be killed, or even seriously injured on their first op-always specially selected to be relatively routine, after all-had been years ago.
“Nervous?”
“No sir.”
“Not even a little scared?”
“No sir.”
“Then you’re either stupid or a liar, Trainee. Which is it?”
Maria gritted her teeth-this was the final phase of training for a prospective Agent, and, like every previous stage of training, it seemed to involve increasing abuse. “Neither, sir.” Thankfully, Tactical trainees weren’t supposed to just shut up and take it like you were in Fleet or Marines Basic Training-Tactical was training warriors, not programming human drones to follow orders. At the very least, she got away with more.
“Explain.” Red was, like many long-time agents, rather laconic-in the world of Tactical, information was currency. There were no formal ranks within Tactical, just positions, awarded on the basis of merit, skill, and success. It was the one service that was entirely immune to the Republics usual nepotism. The First Citizen directly appointed the Commandant-ever since Riya Dare, they had had to have been an Agent-who in turn selected Agents for any roles that needed filled.
“sir, there hasn’t been a single major mishap on a Training op like this under the last three Commandants.”
The Agent shook her head. “So you’re stupid, Trainee. We’re inbound into an area controlled by a planetary Mafia, who we know to be bristling with weapons, and are significantly outnumbered. Yes, support from our transports, as well as our own weapons, armor, and training will likely keep us safe. However-” Agent Red stood, and strode over to where Maria was sitting, “We’re vulnerable at all times, Trainee.” Red tapped Maria’s helmet. “Explain how your armor works, Trainee.”
“A Tactical Agent’s armor is made up of metamaterial polymers capable of shedding or surviving assaults from any handheld energy weapon in service. Furthermore, low-energy Aegal shields are equipped, preventing any damage from a kinetic weapons, such as a bullet. The two acting in tandem offer limited protection from explosives. Our armor is wired into a peer-to-peer network that gives every member of our squad instant access to the state of every other, as well as being connected to the comms of our dropboat in case of an emergency.”
Red arched her eyebrows. “And there are no vulnerabilities that you can think of? What about the visor?”
“Can be darkened either at will or automatically to a one-way aperture. It limits the Agent’s visibility, but will stop a laser.”
“What about a rock, Trainee?”
Maria paused, uncertain. “The Aegal should stop any Kinetic weapons, sir.”
“What if an assailant gets to close quarters? Will the Aegal be able to identify someone who’s grappling with you as a threat?”
“No, sir.”
“So, you’re down there on Angel Duty, and some thug jumps you with a rock. You didn’t see him coming, so now he’s on top of you. Your rifle’s useless, even your pistol’s useless since he’s right there.” Agent Red paused, expectantly.
“I’d go for my knife, sir.”
“Great-you reach down for your knife, which you appear to be wearing on your left side, despite the fact that you’re right handed, Trainee Prussin. If you’re quick, you manage to draw it, but it’s in the wrong hand. While you fumble with it, your assailant grabs a rock and slams it repeatedly into your visor. When that breaks, he continues, except now it’s your face. If you’re lucky, you’ll be knocked unconscious rather quickly, because there’s no way this situation ends well at this point. From there, your squad gets ambushed by the surprise attack that you were supposed to prevent. There are no survivors, and the cleanup team finds various bits of your bodies scattered around the combat zone. They find enough of your blood that they’re confident that you’re dead, but they’re never quite sure, because they never find the people responsible, because you failed, Trainee.”
Red turned, and strode back to her seat, on the other end of the Rotorcraft. “This is never simple, Trainee. There is always danger. Children like you are what is corrupting this agency. I’ve served since the Republic-Imperiata War, and back then, we had a sense of what was at stake. You younger ones... You abuse the power that we’re given. Rest assured that you will not be receiving my recommendation for graduation, Ms. Prussin.”
Maria stood, fists clenching. “With all due respect, Agent Red, you can’t do that.”
Red stopped still. “What can’t I do, Ms. Prussin?” He asked, voice cold.
Damn. Maria thought. I did not intend to say that out loud. “With all due respect, sir, as long as I pass this assessment, I receive a commission. That’s how this works.”
“You misunderstand how we operate, Ms. Prussin, reinforcing my conclusion that you should never join its ranks. Our mandate includes whatever powers are necessary to succeed in our mission, and whenever a person interferes with that...” Red turned, and Maria saw that he had a pistol in his hands, and, though she was confidant in her armor, she was also surrounded by other Agents, who, they had largely ignored the squabble, were beginning to take interest. “They need to be dealt with, Ms. Maria Prussin. As things stand, you will be expelled from Tactical on an ever-growing variety of charges as soon as I have access to the requisite paperwork aboard the Warden. If you continue to be insolent, I guarentee you that there are ways for you to die on this mission, wether you believe that or not.” They made eye contact, and Maria knew what she had to do.
“Damn that, Red. You’ve always had it in for me-I refuse to listen to this!” Her hand inched towards her own laser pistol, just enough to be threatening.
Red didn’t move, but the Agent beside Maria did, kicking out into the back of her knees, toppling her to the ground.
“Fine, Agent.” She heard Red’s voice. “You’re on point for C Squad-good thing that you’ve been paying careful attention to the briefing that you’ve all been sent.” As she struggled to her feet, she saw him glancing down at his wrist, a needlessly theatrical gesture. “Oh look-we’re there. Have fun, Agent...”
The Rotorcraft banked, its cargo bay flying open, and the Agents at the back jumped out, Gravpacks protecting them from the dangers of the fall.
Obviously confused, Maria hesitated for a moment, before she felt someone’s boot connect with the back of her armor.
They were only a hundred or so feet up, but there was still a fleeting moment where she was terrified that her gravpack had malfunctioned. Then, it kicked in, and she landed, with little more of a jolt than if she had jumped off a stool.
All around her, laser rifles were blazing, Agents pinning down anything that vaguely resembled a Terran. Overhead, the Rotorcraft’s loudspeakers blared out a message that all of Terran Space had learned to fear-”Citizens, remain where you are! This is a raid by the Tactical Services of the Republic! If you feel a need to surrender, approach an Agent slowly with your hands above your head!”
Just as she finished assessing the threat-namely that there was no-one returning Tactical’s fire-of course a laser beam flashed by her head, barely distinguishable from the rest of the extreme prejudice that they were dishing out to innocent surrounding buildings. “Ms. Prussin...” She heard Agent Red’s voice in her helmet, over her private radio channel, far too deliberately concerned to actually give a damn about her, “It’s dangerous out here. You’d better get C Squad moving, or something might happen...”
Swearing to herself, she shouted into the general channel, “C Squad, assemble at the base of the target building!”
Focusing herself as she rushed into cover at the entrance, she reviewed the quick facts of the mission that she had been given back on the Warden. Slaving operation, headed by the local criminal syndicate. We’ve got one Spartoi agent on the inside, waiting for a signal. Our job is to make sure that anything holding a weapon inside that’s not an Agent is a smoking pile of ash instead.
The other half dozen Trainees on C Squad gathered round, taking barely fifteen seconds to gather. She really should know the names of the other Trainees on her team, but it had just never seemed important.
“What’s our attack plan, Trainee Prussin?” One of the others asked. They were all supposed to call each other that-it was annoying, really.
“We’ve got limited intel on what’s inside, so we’re going in, shooting first, asking questions later. Our primary objective is the elimination of hostile forces, not necessarily the retrieval of the prisoners. Do you understand?”
They nodded, but... Didn’t seem eager about it. Who needs them to be eager though? She thought. This is the military. They’ll do whatever you say, regardless of if they agree with it.
They kicked in the door, and entered the building. The battle wasn’t anything special-it was just like the hundreds of simulated ones they had been through. Maria was in perfect form throughout, taking point as ordered, and dealing with several of the criminal thugs. Her pride swelled as she moved through the building, having no soldiers wounded, and losing only a few of the civilians. Once they finally cleared out the last room, she finally allowed herself to breathe freely.
Tactical valued its soldiers on the results they delivered. And she had delivered excellent results.
Two weeks later, she strode down the corridors of the Flag Officer's quarters of the UTFS Warden. Commandant Isabella Shishani had summoned Maria to her quarters. This couldn’t be anything other than a good sign-the odds of being expelled from the Corp directly by the Commandant were practically nil.
She hit the button on the door to request entry, then fell into parade rest and waited in the hall.
It only took a few minutes for the door to open, and Maria entered, not entirely sure what to expect. However, the Commandant herself opening the door was not what she expected.
Isabella Shishani was a slight woman, with dark skin, naturally beautiful. Not ‘hot’ like some teenaged girl trying to impress some boy, but beautiful, in an intense and stately manner. She obviously cultivated this, but it was by no means entirely an act.
“Welcome, Ms. Prussin.” Shishani said, gesturing Maria to a seat. “Please, be at ease.”
“Yes, First Citizen.” Maria said, standing next to the chair until Shishani rounded the desk and sat down in her own.
“Would you like some tea, Ms. Prussin?” Shishani asked, dispensing hot water from an appliance on her cluttered desk.
“No thank you, First Citizen.” Maria’s throat was parched, but she had to focus on what was happening here. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
“Good. Useless, semi-aristocratic custom. I’d do away with it if I made those rules.” Shishani laughed at her own joke, so Maria joined in. “You have... Quite a record with Tactical, Ms. Prussin.” Shishani said, flipping through a few sheets of synthetic paper. “To be honest, we didn’t expect you to survive the first week of training, but you got through to the final exam without melting down towards an instructor. You’re purposefully given leeway in training, you know. It’s to test you, see how you fare on your own. We’re nowhere near as freeform as we teach you during those few months. Tell me, Ms. Prussin... Why do you think you’re worth my time?”
Maria swallowed. “First Citizen, I expect it’s to finalize my commission.”
The First Citizen nodded. “In a way, yes. It was a hard decision-there were compelling arguments for and against keeping you. I hadn’t actually decided until a moment ago, Ms. Prussin. I actually have two sets of orders here-one with a commission and a commendation, the other with a burn notice.” Shishani took an envelope, and fed it into a shredder built into her desk.
Shishani handed Maria the other envelope, and behind that mask of stately beauty Maria could see a snakes eyes. Shishani was enjoying this.
Maria glanced at the First Citizen for confirmation, then opened the envelope.
“Damn you.” She whispered, glancing up, not caring that she had just said that to the First Citizen.
“I apologize, Ms. Prussin, but your actions have proven you unfit to be a Tactical Agent. You are unable to follow orders, respect the risks we take, or understand the code of conduct we operate upon.”
“You can’t do this!” Maria hissed, hand dropping to where her rigging knife-the only weapon that was permitted aboard a ship-was fastened to her right leg.
Shishani raised an eyebrow, apparently unconcerned with Maria’s actions. “Oh? You agreed to the possibility of a Morton wipe when you signed up for training, Ms. Prussin.”
“I agreed to that with the understanding that it wouldn’t happen!” Maria replied, voice rising, unsheathing the knife, moving forward. The thought of Morton, Tactical’s favorite toy, flowing through her veins, targeting, deleting, rewriting memories, terrified her.
“It’s not that unpleasant, Ms. Prussin.” Shishani said, still unconcerned. “Remember, we preserve the subconscious memories, Ms. Prussin, so if you’re ever in a life-threatening situation, they’ll resurface. Any personal memories will also be retained, and you’ll be given a fully consistent mental and official identity that accounts for the past year or so.”
Snarling, Maria lunged forward, knife in hand. The room was clear, but even as she moved forward, she felt something make contact with her foot. As she dropped to the ground, there was a shimmer in the air above her, and a person in Tactical armor appeared, a shimmering Metamaterial invisibility cloak draped over one hand.
“Please, Ms. Prussin, you’re not the first person to try something like this. All you’ve accomplished here is proven to me that you are, in fact, fundamentally incapable of serving as a Tactical Agent.” Shishani waved her hand. “Agent Rindos, if you’d please escort Ms. Prussin to the Medical Bay, I’ll alert them to the conditioning she’ll require, and order Specialist Hansen to be ready for her.”
The Agent nodded, and leveled a weapon at Maria’s head. “Get up.” The Agent said, and Maria knew from personal experience on the other end of that pistol that the Agent wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
“It’s been too long, First Citizen.”
“Same, cousin. And drop that ‘First Citizen’ crap-your parents are Councilmen, Reed, and I fully expect you to treat me like an equal. You’re literally the only person I can safely confide in.”
“I apologize, Isa. I trust you’re doing well in your new position?”
“Of course. Who’s the current girl, Reed?”
“This may surprise you, given your apparently low opinion of the company I keep, but I’m actually still sort of with the same one from the last time we spoke.”
“The debutante that my father brought from the MCT Advanced Fleet School program?”
“No, no-she and were never really a thing, you just wanted that. She’s Kynaki-to be honest I think Aunt Sheila may have had something to do with her presence here at Blackacre though, which has been kind of bothering me.”
“How are you getting along with Aunt Sheila?”
“Ehh, my mother and her will pretty much never be able to work together in anything but the most official of capacities... Aunt Sheila’s still a wonderful person though, as always. Cursed with a horrible husband though.”
“Anyway, Reed, I’m assuming that you need something from me-you’re not one for pointless chatter.”
“I think this is the second thing you’ve said in this conversation that shows that you clearly just need to spend more time with your family, Isa.”
“So what do you want...”
“Her.”
“What?”
“You just burned a Trainee and put her through Morton. One of the initiatives that I’ve been heading up could use someone like her.”
“You understand that the woman’s abrasive and has no real skills?”
“Yes-that’s why I want her for this. That’s exactly what we’re looking for.”
“This project is need-to-know, I assume?”
“Unfortunately.”
“I’ve just filled the transfer orders for her, but... Why the hell are you asking for someone who is, according to her instructors, quite literally the single worst recruit they've ever seen make it the final examination?”
“Reed?”
“Reed?”
“Damn you, Reed.”
“No sir.”
“Not even a little scared?”
“No sir.”
“Then you’re either stupid or a liar, Trainee. Which is it?”
Maria gritted her teeth-this was the final phase of training for a prospective Agent, and, like every previous stage of training, it seemed to involve increasing abuse. “Neither, sir.” Thankfully, Tactical trainees weren’t supposed to just shut up and take it like you were in Fleet or Marines Basic Training-Tactical was training warriors, not programming human drones to follow orders. At the very least, she got away with more.
“Explain.” Red was, like many long-time agents, rather laconic-in the world of Tactical, information was currency. There were no formal ranks within Tactical, just positions, awarded on the basis of merit, skill, and success. It was the one service that was entirely immune to the Republics usual nepotism. The First Citizen directly appointed the Commandant-ever since Riya Dare, they had had to have been an Agent-who in turn selected Agents for any roles that needed filled.
“sir, there hasn’t been a single major mishap on a Training op like this under the last three Commandants.”
The Agent shook her head. “So you’re stupid, Trainee. We’re inbound into an area controlled by a planetary Mafia, who we know to be bristling with weapons, and are significantly outnumbered. Yes, support from our transports, as well as our own weapons, armor, and training will likely keep us safe. However-” Agent Red stood, and strode over to where Maria was sitting, “We’re vulnerable at all times, Trainee.” Red tapped Maria’s helmet. “Explain how your armor works, Trainee.”
“A Tactical Agent’s armor is made up of metamaterial polymers capable of shedding or surviving assaults from any handheld energy weapon in service. Furthermore, low-energy Aegal shields are equipped, preventing any damage from a kinetic weapons, such as a bullet. The two acting in tandem offer limited protection from explosives. Our armor is wired into a peer-to-peer network that gives every member of our squad instant access to the state of every other, as well as being connected to the comms of our dropboat in case of an emergency.”
Red arched her eyebrows. “And there are no vulnerabilities that you can think of? What about the visor?”
“Can be darkened either at will or automatically to a one-way aperture. It limits the Agent’s visibility, but will stop a laser.”
“What about a rock, Trainee?”
Maria paused, uncertain. “The Aegal should stop any Kinetic weapons, sir.”
“What if an assailant gets to close quarters? Will the Aegal be able to identify someone who’s grappling with you as a threat?”
“No, sir.”
“So, you’re down there on Angel Duty, and some thug jumps you with a rock. You didn’t see him coming, so now he’s on top of you. Your rifle’s useless, even your pistol’s useless since he’s right there.” Agent Red paused, expectantly.
“I’d go for my knife, sir.”
“Great-you reach down for your knife, which you appear to be wearing on your left side, despite the fact that you’re right handed, Trainee Prussin. If you’re quick, you manage to draw it, but it’s in the wrong hand. While you fumble with it, your assailant grabs a rock and slams it repeatedly into your visor. When that breaks, he continues, except now it’s your face. If you’re lucky, you’ll be knocked unconscious rather quickly, because there’s no way this situation ends well at this point. From there, your squad gets ambushed by the surprise attack that you were supposed to prevent. There are no survivors, and the cleanup team finds various bits of your bodies scattered around the combat zone. They find enough of your blood that they’re confident that you’re dead, but they’re never quite sure, because they never find the people responsible, because you failed, Trainee.”
Red turned, and strode back to her seat, on the other end of the Rotorcraft. “This is never simple, Trainee. There is always danger. Children like you are what is corrupting this agency. I’ve served since the Republic-Imperiata War, and back then, we had a sense of what was at stake. You younger ones... You abuse the power that we’re given. Rest assured that you will not be receiving my recommendation for graduation, Ms. Prussin.”
Maria stood, fists clenching. “With all due respect, Agent Red, you can’t do that.”
Red stopped still. “What can’t I do, Ms. Prussin?” He asked, voice cold.
Damn. Maria thought. I did not intend to say that out loud. “With all due respect, sir, as long as I pass this assessment, I receive a commission. That’s how this works.”
“You misunderstand how we operate, Ms. Prussin, reinforcing my conclusion that you should never join its ranks. Our mandate includes whatever powers are necessary to succeed in our mission, and whenever a person interferes with that...” Red turned, and Maria saw that he had a pistol in his hands, and, though she was confidant in her armor, she was also surrounded by other Agents, who, they had largely ignored the squabble, were beginning to take interest. “They need to be dealt with, Ms. Maria Prussin. As things stand, you will be expelled from Tactical on an ever-growing variety of charges as soon as I have access to the requisite paperwork aboard the Warden. If you continue to be insolent, I guarentee you that there are ways for you to die on this mission, wether you believe that or not.” They made eye contact, and Maria knew what she had to do.
“Damn that, Red. You’ve always had it in for me-I refuse to listen to this!” Her hand inched towards her own laser pistol, just enough to be threatening.
Red didn’t move, but the Agent beside Maria did, kicking out into the back of her knees, toppling her to the ground.
“Fine, Agent.” She heard Red’s voice. “You’re on point for C Squad-good thing that you’ve been paying careful attention to the briefing that you’ve all been sent.” As she struggled to her feet, she saw him glancing down at his wrist, a needlessly theatrical gesture. “Oh look-we’re there. Have fun, Agent...”
The Rotorcraft banked, its cargo bay flying open, and the Agents at the back jumped out, Gravpacks protecting them from the dangers of the fall.
Obviously confused, Maria hesitated for a moment, before she felt someone’s boot connect with the back of her armor.
They were only a hundred or so feet up, but there was still a fleeting moment where she was terrified that her gravpack had malfunctioned. Then, it kicked in, and she landed, with little more of a jolt than if she had jumped off a stool.
All around her, laser rifles were blazing, Agents pinning down anything that vaguely resembled a Terran. Overhead, the Rotorcraft’s loudspeakers blared out a message that all of Terran Space had learned to fear-”Citizens, remain where you are! This is a raid by the Tactical Services of the Republic! If you feel a need to surrender, approach an Agent slowly with your hands above your head!”
Just as she finished assessing the threat-namely that there was no-one returning Tactical’s fire-of course a laser beam flashed by her head, barely distinguishable from the rest of the extreme prejudice that they were dishing out to innocent surrounding buildings. “Ms. Prussin...” She heard Agent Red’s voice in her helmet, over her private radio channel, far too deliberately concerned to actually give a damn about her, “It’s dangerous out here. You’d better get C Squad moving, or something might happen...”
Swearing to herself, she shouted into the general channel, “C Squad, assemble at the base of the target building!”
Focusing herself as she rushed into cover at the entrance, she reviewed the quick facts of the mission that she had been given back on the Warden. Slaving operation, headed by the local criminal syndicate. We’ve got one Spartoi agent on the inside, waiting for a signal. Our job is to make sure that anything holding a weapon inside that’s not an Agent is a smoking pile of ash instead.
The other half dozen Trainees on C Squad gathered round, taking barely fifteen seconds to gather. She really should know the names of the other Trainees on her team, but it had just never seemed important.
“What’s our attack plan, Trainee Prussin?” One of the others asked. They were all supposed to call each other that-it was annoying, really.
“We’ve got limited intel on what’s inside, so we’re going in, shooting first, asking questions later. Our primary objective is the elimination of hostile forces, not necessarily the retrieval of the prisoners. Do you understand?”
They nodded, but... Didn’t seem eager about it. Who needs them to be eager though? She thought. This is the military. They’ll do whatever you say, regardless of if they agree with it.
They kicked in the door, and entered the building. The battle wasn’t anything special-it was just like the hundreds of simulated ones they had been through. Maria was in perfect form throughout, taking point as ordered, and dealing with several of the criminal thugs. Her pride swelled as she moved through the building, having no soldiers wounded, and losing only a few of the civilians. Once they finally cleared out the last room, she finally allowed herself to breathe freely.
Tactical valued its soldiers on the results they delivered. And she had delivered excellent results.
Two weeks later, she strode down the corridors of the Flag Officer's quarters of the UTFS Warden. Commandant Isabella Shishani had summoned Maria to her quarters. This couldn’t be anything other than a good sign-the odds of being expelled from the Corp directly by the Commandant were practically nil.
She hit the button on the door to request entry, then fell into parade rest and waited in the hall.
It only took a few minutes for the door to open, and Maria entered, not entirely sure what to expect. However, the Commandant herself opening the door was not what she expected.
Isabella Shishani was a slight woman, with dark skin, naturally beautiful. Not ‘hot’ like some teenaged girl trying to impress some boy, but beautiful, in an intense and stately manner. She obviously cultivated this, but it was by no means entirely an act.
“Welcome, Ms. Prussin.” Shishani said, gesturing Maria to a seat. “Please, be at ease.”
“Yes, First Citizen.” Maria said, standing next to the chair until Shishani rounded the desk and sat down in her own.
“Would you like some tea, Ms. Prussin?” Shishani asked, dispensing hot water from an appliance on her cluttered desk.
“No thank you, First Citizen.” Maria’s throat was parched, but she had to focus on what was happening here. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
“Good. Useless, semi-aristocratic custom. I’d do away with it if I made those rules.” Shishani laughed at her own joke, so Maria joined in. “You have... Quite a record with Tactical, Ms. Prussin.” Shishani said, flipping through a few sheets of synthetic paper. “To be honest, we didn’t expect you to survive the first week of training, but you got through to the final exam without melting down towards an instructor. You’re purposefully given leeway in training, you know. It’s to test you, see how you fare on your own. We’re nowhere near as freeform as we teach you during those few months. Tell me, Ms. Prussin... Why do you think you’re worth my time?”
Maria swallowed. “First Citizen, I expect it’s to finalize my commission.”
The First Citizen nodded. “In a way, yes. It was a hard decision-there were compelling arguments for and against keeping you. I hadn’t actually decided until a moment ago, Ms. Prussin. I actually have two sets of orders here-one with a commission and a commendation, the other with a burn notice.” Shishani took an envelope, and fed it into a shredder built into her desk.
Shishani handed Maria the other envelope, and behind that mask of stately beauty Maria could see a snakes eyes. Shishani was enjoying this.
Maria glanced at the First Citizen for confirmation, then opened the envelope.
“Damn you.” She whispered, glancing up, not caring that she had just said that to the First Citizen.
“I apologize, Ms. Prussin, but your actions have proven you unfit to be a Tactical Agent. You are unable to follow orders, respect the risks we take, or understand the code of conduct we operate upon.”
“You can’t do this!” Maria hissed, hand dropping to where her rigging knife-the only weapon that was permitted aboard a ship-was fastened to her right leg.
Shishani raised an eyebrow, apparently unconcerned with Maria’s actions. “Oh? You agreed to the possibility of a Morton wipe when you signed up for training, Ms. Prussin.”
“I agreed to that with the understanding that it wouldn’t happen!” Maria replied, voice rising, unsheathing the knife, moving forward. The thought of Morton, Tactical’s favorite toy, flowing through her veins, targeting, deleting, rewriting memories, terrified her.
“It’s not that unpleasant, Ms. Prussin.” Shishani said, still unconcerned. “Remember, we preserve the subconscious memories, Ms. Prussin, so if you’re ever in a life-threatening situation, they’ll resurface. Any personal memories will also be retained, and you’ll be given a fully consistent mental and official identity that accounts for the past year or so.”
Snarling, Maria lunged forward, knife in hand. The room was clear, but even as she moved forward, she felt something make contact with her foot. As she dropped to the ground, there was a shimmer in the air above her, and a person in Tactical armor appeared, a shimmering Metamaterial invisibility cloak draped over one hand.
“Please, Ms. Prussin, you’re not the first person to try something like this. All you’ve accomplished here is proven to me that you are, in fact, fundamentally incapable of serving as a Tactical Agent.” Shishani waved her hand. “Agent Rindos, if you’d please escort Ms. Prussin to the Medical Bay, I’ll alert them to the conditioning she’ll require, and order Specialist Hansen to be ready for her.”
The Agent nodded, and leveled a weapon at Maria’s head. “Get up.” The Agent said, and Maria knew from personal experience on the other end of that pistol that the Agent wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
“It’s been too long, First Citizen.”
“Same, cousin. And drop that ‘First Citizen’ crap-your parents are Councilmen, Reed, and I fully expect you to treat me like an equal. You’re literally the only person I can safely confide in.”
“I apologize, Isa. I trust you’re doing well in your new position?”
“Of course. Who’s the current girl, Reed?”
“This may surprise you, given your apparently low opinion of the company I keep, but I’m actually still sort of with the same one from the last time we spoke.”
“The debutante that my father brought from the MCT Advanced Fleet School program?”
“No, no-she and were never really a thing, you just wanted that. She’s Kynaki-to be honest I think Aunt Sheila may have had something to do with her presence here at Blackacre though, which has been kind of bothering me.”
“How are you getting along with Aunt Sheila?”
“Ehh, my mother and her will pretty much never be able to work together in anything but the most official of capacities... Aunt Sheila’s still a wonderful person though, as always. Cursed with a horrible husband though.”
“Anyway, Reed, I’m assuming that you need something from me-you’re not one for pointless chatter.”
“I think this is the second thing you’ve said in this conversation that shows that you clearly just need to spend more time with your family, Isa.”
“So what do you want...”
“Her.”
“What?”
“You just burned a Trainee and put her through Morton. One of the initiatives that I’ve been heading up could use someone like her.”
“You understand that the woman’s abrasive and has no real skills?”
“Yes-that’s why I want her for this. That’s exactly what we’re looking for.”
“This project is need-to-know, I assume?”
“Unfortunately.”
“I’ve just filled the transfer orders for her, but... Why the hell are you asking for someone who is, according to her instructors, quite literally the single worst recruit they've ever seen make it the final examination?”
“Reed?”
“Reed?”
“Damn you, Reed.”