I received the latest budget report, and am pleased that Moff Daetin is apparently interested enough in Lord Zamir’s implants to pledge the capital we need to begin research. While the Division has its own resources, this additional funding should please both the Darths. I find it interesting how anything that might produce a faster, stronger soldier or will explode people faster has the military eager to fund it. Meanwhile Intelligence quietly sends us credits for anything that might help them interrogate prisoners. But, I’m digressing.
I am awaiting the prototypes from Zamir, though we’ve already begun recruiting potential subjects. Unlike Tholgeth’s research, which required importing several dozen Imperial prisoners (mostly political), we can take a bit more care in who participates. For initial testing I’d prefer a pool of humans without mixed alien blood. If those tests are successful, we can extend trials toward mixed blood and aliens if budgeting allows.
It’s a much more pleasant experiment and I’ve put the word out to the military first, soldiers are always eager to become better soldiers.
I also have a bit more editing to do for previous research projects before they can be published. But that I can do on the side, perhaps in the evenings. I am uncertain if Darth Tholgeth wishes to have his personal toys published anywhere, but I have a report on that started as well, which I will send to him on completion.
One of the lab techs has been acting oddly lately. I will have to keep an eye on him, and have restricted his access to research data until I have a chance to talk to him. But I’ve caught him more than once lingering near my office, as if waiting for me to leave. Paranoia has set in, and so I’ve made sure I have holocams turned on and watching when I’m not in.
Things with Genna have taken an unexpected turn. We see each other when we can, which is not as often as either of us would like. But, we have the huttnet and our own communicators to talk when not busy. She’s busy training, and I’m neck deep in research and we both understand the constraints on the other.
But, she finally had her first sexual experience as an agent (and I think it was her first time, period, which makes me wince). I saw her hinting at it on the huttnet with Agent Kindrak. There wasn’t any need to make her explain it to me. I knew this was a possibility (inevitable really), and I think the only level it bothers me on is that she is obviously bothered by it.
And I think part of her is just a little frustrated with me that I seem unwilling to sleep with her. A little amusing, even if it shouldn’t be, and flattering at the same time. It isn’t that I wouldn’t want to, I’m quite male thank you and I’ve thought about it more than once.
But Genna is not a job, or a duty, or a mark. And I hesitate to take our relationship to that level until I’m certain both of us understand that, and are ready for it. We aren’t just Imperial citizens, we’re agents of the Empire, and our duties to that Empire will always be first.
She understands that now, I think. We had a long discussion about it. She’s changing, bit by bit. The gawkish girl I first met is slowly coming to understand Imperial culture. You can see it in her eyes, no longer wide and easily hurt, there’s a dawning comprehension and a sharpening intellect.
Emperor help her targets, in a few years I daresay she’ll be a fine, deadly agent of the Empire.
Our latest research is ready for publication. I’ve submitted the papers for review by Darths Bi’ev and Arannek. I await their approval to send them off to the editor. In the meanwhile, there’s work to be done scrubbing down the labs and the equipment and preparing for our next project. Lord Zamir has some ideas he’d like to share, and unless someone has a more pressing need for our services, I don’t see why we should not indulge him.
Of course, I’m also tending to his injuries. He scuffled with Darth Setekh, and somehow managed to secure and destroy any remaining copies of the holos taken from Darth Arannek’s estate. The ones of me and Darth Achai in a… ah, compromising position or five. I hope he’s right about that, and I dread the retaliation this is going to cause. Darth Setekh has been angry with me for quite some time. And Sith do not easily let go of such vendettas.
I tried to warn Zamir about that, I didn’t want to make a bad situation worse. But he insisted, and I would not presume to tell a Sith Lord to do or not do anything.
I am relieved to report that Genna did not see the holo. She knows what is on it, and that it exists, but she didn’t actually view it. The only remaining copy (if indeed Zamir did destroy all records of it) was in my office, and once I knew the others were gone, I erased it as well and all traces of it. That is one memory I am glad to let fade.
I’ve been so hard at work I feel as though I have neglected Genna. This isn’t anything I can help, just as she’s been equally busy with her new responsibilities. She has a child to look after. A six year old sister named Molly, who I have not met yet. I get this odd impression that Genna is concerned the girl’s presence might turn me off. Nothing could be further from the truth, I know well the sacrifices that must be made for younger siblings.
It is, however, causing grief in the Division in other ways. Just one glance at the Huttnet is evidence of that. I’m hoping now things are resolved, or so they seem to be.
I’ve barely had a chance to see her, and I regret this deeply. I suppose it is better to realize this now, rather than later. I’ve heard of some couples madly in love and then abruptly separated for long periods of time. I would not say that Genna and I are madly and passionately in love with each other. I am comfortable around her though, and despite my hesitancy, glad I decided to heed the advice given to me and give it a shot.
But now I’m rambling, and the hour grows late. I have work to do tomorrow.
“The past is our definition. We may strive, with good reason, to escape it, or to escape what is bad in it, but we will escape it only by adding something better to it.”
The apartment is larger than a box, but only just barely. There is a small area for living space, complete…
Back to normal research, as in not things meant to mind control and blow up people’s brains. We’re studying a number of compounds discovered on Quesh, seeing what medicinal purposes they may have. Far easier work, and no Darth is overseeing this.
For the first time in a few weeks I am leaving the lab before midnight and sleeping in a bed and not the chair in my office. And I even have a day off tomorrow. Which I plan to use to take Genna to the opera. Obisen offered to let us use his box seats. Kind of him, and I accepted the offer.
Then Ixor’semo mentioned something about privacy in them. And I cut off mid-sentence. I am not quite sure about him. One moment he’s practically threatening me over her, and in the next he’s encouraging things.
I believe I will err on the side of caution until I’m relatively certain he isn’t going to choke me. There’s no need to rush anything, and I’m still convinced she’ll realize I’m rather boring.
Though, I’m hoping not. She’s the first female I’ve been able to talk shop with who isn’t a bit off her rocker, or looking at me as if I’d grown an extra head when I use scientific terminology. Even if no romance blossoms between us, I daresay I’d appreciate her as a colleague.
Echoes and specters and ghosts of none the wiser
Apparitions each, bad decisions brush on by
Envious in the ever after
Electric fuzzy haze of regrets and dreams denied
'Telling Ghosts' - Puscifer
He woke with a start. Somewhere in his mind, a dream immediately receded like a river long after a heavy storm, leaving behind only the vague silt of uneasiness. He sat up slowly, rubbing his head for the pounding had already begun. His comm blipped to alert him to a message and the datapad he’d left on the desk now displayed a low battery warning. He’d need to recharge it.
Someone had closed the shades, blocking out the light from the laboratory. One of his assistants, he assumed. He scissored his fingers through a few of the blades to peer outside. Relatively empty, though he could see equipment running.
His office was relatively small, more like a box they managed to fit a desk and a chair into. The walls were cluttered with holos of medical and research data, and then— what was this?
His jacket, he realized. The one he’d given to Gennavie to cover up with. On top of that lay a small stim injection, no doubt for the weariness she expected him to have. And by that a few containers of what he assumed was her lunch. She’d been by, found him asleep, and left him little things out of endearing concern.
Picking up his holo, he dialed a familiar frequency. ”Good afternoon, I’d like to know where Agent O’Tel’s desk is. She left something at the lab that I need to return…”
70k credits character commissions! (Ebon Hawk only)
This one is for Sahnin, Lord of Bunnies of Agent Doctor.
Oh hello thar, Doc.
Reblogging here because reasons. Also whoa.
It’s been an interesting day. And I’m not entirely in the mood to write a long passage about everything. So I will skip to the basics.
Setekh has released my brother. I saw Rhease briefly on Fleet and he seemed fine. I’m hoping to get him into the infirmary later to do a more thorough exam, though I am not entirely sure how to explain why I want do to this without telling him Setekh had implanted a device in his head meant to control him.
I’m also not sure what to make of that Darth. He’s angry with me, he revealed as much to me in private messages. Yet he released my brother, which was his best way to keep me in line. I’m not well versed in Sith ways, and I prefer it that way. I can’t help but think eventually he’s going to do something to hurt me.
In better news, I have asked Gennavie to the opera this weekend. I had tickets passed down to me, it seems the opera is a method of rewarding hard work around the Division.
Genna intrigues me. She’s young, and initially I balked at the idea of seeing her in any capacity outside of work or those few times I can get away to the cantina. But, it’s very obvious she has a crush on me, only a blind man would miss it. I don’t know if this will go anywhere. She’s had several other crushes that have ended in tears already, and I have no intention of adding to that number.
What I do intend is to show her a good time, enjoy her company and if another lad who’s closer to her own age catches her eye, let her go amicably. No sense in getting upset over it. Given a few years and some experience, she’ll settle down with someone worthy of her. I hope.
Of course, there’s a small chance she’ll become something more to me. And if that happens, we’ll discuss it then. I’m not nineteen and a mass of hormones anymore. I just have to remind myself she hasn’t even -reached- nineteen yet, and patience will be necessary.
Besides, I like opera. Shh, don’t tell anyone.
"I remember now. I remember how it started. I can’t remember yesterday… I just remember doing what they told me…"
-Nikki, Operation Mindcrime
Jaesen woke abruptly when a datapad with a low battery wailed loud enough to startle him. Finding Aristan standing over him, leaning in close enough to nearly be nose to nose, nearly made him scream, sitting up so fast he knocked over a vase on the desk and sent it crashing to the ground, shattering. It took everything right then to not punch his brother in the face. Even if said brother were a Sith Lord and very likely able to deflect anything he threw at him with a laugh.
"Are you awake, darling brother?" Aristan asked, smirking. He withdrew finally, giving back Jae’s personal space to look down at the shards of glass on the floor. A small, oval mouse droid had already activated and begun vacuuming up the mess.
Jaesen rubbed at his eyes a moment and sat forward. ”I am now. What do you want, Aristan?”
"Look at you," Aristan snorted in contempt, "You’re a mess. My workaholic brother, what an embarrassment."
Jaesen rolled his eyes and pushed himself free from the chair, realizing he’d fallen asleep in his uniform again. He gripped the side of his desk for balance, then leaned up against it to let his head finish swimming. ”Truly, your concern is noted. Now what do you want?”
Anger flared and Aristan’s features twisted in a snarl. Jaesen felt the tendrils of pressure against his windpipe and instinctively reached for his throat, as if somehow he might pry loose the Force that cut off his breathing. He’d seen it before on so many others who ended up angering the wrong Sith. How ironic his own brother choked him now.
He felt his feet leave the ground, Aristan lifting him up into the air. Panic nearly set in for the lack of oxygen. Then he simply relaxed, letting his hands fall to his sides. Giving in, he realized, freed him from everything. From Darth Setekh’s prodding reminders, from the research he had to do, from the memories he wasn’t even sure were real.
Black spots just began to swim befor his eyes when abruptly Aristan released him and he dropped back to the ground. His knees buckled and he ended up in a heap on the tiles.
"Emperor’s throne, little brother, what have they done to you?"
Aristan knelt next to him, grasping his shoulder with one hand and lifting his chin with the other. ”I’ll talk to my master, get you transferred out of this Division. He managed to get you and Rhease into a military school for me. He could do this as well.”
"I will not have you trying to kill yourself by Sith!" he roared.
"It’s not the Division!" he shouted back.
They stared at each other for a long moment after that. Aristan let go of Jaesen, falling back to sit on the floor with him. When he reached for him again, it was to take his hand and grip it lightly. ”Tell me then, Jaesen. What is it.”
Jaesen drew in a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly. ”I remember how it started…”