"Without more we weren't able to confirm exactly what will be on offer at the auction," said Noema Kintar from one end of the long conference table in Warrender's office. This Warrender, an older woman who had been a First Order Security Bureau Chief on Halm back when the world was new, sat impassive at the opposite end, flanked by two senior members of staff. "But the intelligence provided by Cipher One did fit in with the broad outlines we were able to glean from other mentions of Tallis Risk Partners. They have been linked to the verification and disposition of at least three pre-Sacking First Order intelligence caches over the last five years, so at this point we have a reasonable confidence level that they have something."
Warrender's lips pursed and Noema could see her chin shifting left, then right. "This is not a good look, Kintar."
"I understand," Noema said automatically.
"Do you, indeed?" Warrender's raspy voice was tinged with equal parts bitterness and amusement. "I don't think you quite understand the historical context for these caches. You know the history, of course. The war with the Galactic Alliance, then the Outer Rim Coalition. The overextension. The administrative burden. The First Order was outwardly confident, of course, but at the Bureau we had more information than perhaps we should have. Certainly more than the general public or the historians. So the very nature of the work being done at this time was planning for the very worst case scenario -- existential questions. The kind of desperation people employ when they are being faced with certain death. And certain death in the face of an enemy that could not destroy it militarily but did their damnedest to destroy it in the history and culture and legacy after the Ssi-Ruuk finished the job." A pause as she took a drag from a cigarette and then exhaled. "You are very young to fully grasp something like that."
Noema stood in a prickly silence for a few moments. Then she cleared her throat: "Perhaps. But I am not so young as to render me incapable of imagining that actions taken during the late stages of the First Order by a government led by the current Supreme Leader and Queen of the Renascent Heirate may hit the ear and the eye in a different historical context now, during a time of relative peace and plenty, and after the steps she has taken to rebrand as a democrat -- or at the very least, an enlightened monarch."
This seemed to satisfy Warrender, who inclined her head. "Even I was not privy to all that which was authorized during those days, so I couldn't tell you what they are threatening to unleash on the galaxy. I may have to take it higher. The Prime Minister was Foreign Secretary during the second go-round, but even that -- hard to say. In any event, keep digging."
Noema nodded. "And my proposal that, as a contingency, we simply attend the auction and purchase the collection?"
Warrender straightened, adjusting the lapel of her jacket before clasping her hands, fingers lacing together as if they could contain the situation. "Generally speaking, the Exchequer does not jump at the idea of funding shadowy organizations or paying what is tantamount to blackmail, and -- again, generally speaking -- I agree. But depending on what more we can find out, it may convince them. If what we discover is being sold could be destructive to the Heirate or to the rest of the galaxy, we may have no choice. Warrender House has a stipend for such matters, though it is... strictly off the books."
Noema nodded again. "Very good, ma'am. I'll continue the effort and keep you updated."
Warrender chuckled, a low and throaty sound that might well have been a growl. "Tell Cipher One to get fitted for something in black tie. And tell Cipher Nine to prepare her fall line for the catwalk."
Warrender's lips pursed and Noema could see her chin shifting left, then right. "This is not a good look, Kintar."
"I understand," Noema said automatically.
"Do you, indeed?" Warrender's raspy voice was tinged with equal parts bitterness and amusement. "I don't think you quite understand the historical context for these caches. You know the history, of course. The war with the Galactic Alliance, then the Outer Rim Coalition. The overextension. The administrative burden. The First Order was outwardly confident, of course, but at the Bureau we had more information than perhaps we should have. Certainly more than the general public or the historians. So the very nature of the work being done at this time was planning for the very worst case scenario -- existential questions. The kind of desperation people employ when they are being faced with certain death. And certain death in the face of an enemy that could not destroy it militarily but did their damnedest to destroy it in the history and culture and legacy after the Ssi-Ruuk finished the job." A pause as she took a drag from a cigarette and then exhaled. "You are very young to fully grasp something like that."
Noema stood in a prickly silence for a few moments. Then she cleared her throat: "Perhaps. But I am not so young as to render me incapable of imagining that actions taken during the late stages of the First Order by a government led by the current Supreme Leader and Queen of the Renascent Heirate may hit the ear and the eye in a different historical context now, during a time of relative peace and plenty, and after the steps she has taken to rebrand as a democrat -- or at the very least, an enlightened monarch."
This seemed to satisfy Warrender, who inclined her head. "Even I was not privy to all that which was authorized during those days, so I couldn't tell you what they are threatening to unleash on the galaxy. I may have to take it higher. The Prime Minister was Foreign Secretary during the second go-round, but even that -- hard to say. In any event, keep digging."
Noema nodded. "And my proposal that, as a contingency, we simply attend the auction and purchase the collection?"
Warrender straightened, adjusting the lapel of her jacket before clasping her hands, fingers lacing together as if they could contain the situation. "Generally speaking, the Exchequer does not jump at the idea of funding shadowy organizations or paying what is tantamount to blackmail, and -- again, generally speaking -- I agree. But depending on what more we can find out, it may convince them. If what we discover is being sold could be destructive to the Heirate or to the rest of the galaxy, we may have no choice. Warrender House has a stipend for such matters, though it is... strictly off the books."
Noema nodded again. "Very good, ma'am. I'll continue the effort and keep you updated."
Warrender chuckled, a low and throaty sound that might well have been a growl. "Tell Cipher One to get fitted for something in black tie. And tell Cipher Nine to prepare her fall line for the catwalk."
