Faction Operation: Papercut Part I - Project Ledgerbook

[Avenyx Bevan]

"This plan is strictly Need-To-Know!"
- Operation Mincemeat

CAIROKA'S GATE - BRIEFING ROOM
0903 HOURS LOCAL TIME
[MOOD MUSIC]
​

Avenyx Bevan -- known by most in Cairoka's Gate as "Q" or "Quartermaster Bevan" -- stood in the alcove of the small briefing room, stirring some sort of chalky white powder into a cup of acrid black coffee. She had already added sweetener, but the stuff still smelled strong enough to burn nostril hairs. The chalky white substance managed to make the coffee turn a dark tan color. She took an experimental sniff, then a sip, and immediately regretted it. The coffee from the machine in the mess was a lot more palatable; she wondered if this coffee had been sitting in the warming cradle since yesterday morning's senior staff meeting. Shrugging and taking another sip -- she tried not to wince -- Bevan put it out of her mind. She glanced back towards the room, where operatives were entering.

Avenyx paused for a moment to pull an elastic band from her wrist to tie her vivid ginger hair back into a serviceable ponytail, then collected her cup and took it to the front podium. After a quick glance at her wristwatch, she set the coffee on the podium and raised a hand in greeting. "Good morning, everyone. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Quartermaster Bevan, and I'll be your point of contact and handler for OPERATION: PAPERCUT. Just as a reminder, this is a secret operation and not everyone in Section C is read in, so remember to observe Need-To-Know protocols."

She picked up a device from the podium and clicked it. Behind her, the screen came to life showing a map of the Kuat system, showing the multitude of shipyards, drydocks, and other shipbuilding facilities that existed in the system. "Kuat -- formerly crown jewel of the Galactic Alliance's industrial sector, currently obligated to feed the Galactic Empire's war machine. Through a confidential tip, we have learned of the presence of the Exactitude, an Arquitens-class Light Cruiser at this facility." Another click, and the map zoomed to a small facility, far afield of the main traffic in and out of Kuat proper. "The Quayside Orbital Staryard is one of the facilities owned by Quayside Defense and Industrial." Another click. The image of an attractive blonde woman in her forties appeared on screen. "According to our tipster, the CEO of QDI, Jezminda Crane, is hoping to make the Exactitude a gift to the Empire, once its refurbishment is completed, in hopes of gaining favor and earning more business. Well, with all due respect to Ms. Crane: not on my watch."

Another click, and the woman disappeared from the screen, replaced by a grainy image of a distant QOS from a security camera on another facility miles off. "Initial visual assessment of QOS tells us that a ship roughly the size and shape of an Arquitens-class Light Cruiser was delivered to the staryard approximately two weeks ago, but a visual assessment of distant surveillance footage and the word of an untested informant is not enough to give us confidence that it's the real deal. So, the first act of OPERATION: PAPERCUT is PROJECT LEDGERBOOK. Put simply: verify that the ship is what we think it is, that it's not some sort of trap to flush out resistance operatives, and obtain a full technical readout of the ship so we know its condition and status ahead of GO/NO-GO decision by Cresh about whether to steal the thing."

Half-turning toward the screen, she clicked again, and a list of potential operations came up. "Our analysts have proposed three methods of obtaining the information we need. Ideally, we'd like to keep things quiet. If we make too much noise, or overplay our hands, even if the ship is there and the informant is legitimate, we could put the facility on alert or worse: cause an uptick in security in the Kuat system. To that end, the safest and quietest method is also the most involved: a physical infiltration of the shipyard. A small team of agents will have identities created for them by Q Branch and be placed as employees at Quayside Orbital Staryard. We do not know how long it may take to extract the information we need, so if you choose this operation, be advised you may be deployed for... a while."

Another click. "Alternatively, we've traced the route that our informant used to reach out to us. It was relayed from QOS through an orbital satellite, here." She used the laser pointed on the map, indicating the satellite. "A talented hacker could remotely access the satellite and hack through the signal relay to the data center at QOS. The downside to this? The hacker would need to keep a close proximity to the satellite for the duration of the hack, and loitering nearby is an excellent way to attract the attention of Kuati system defense, which would in turn raise questions and visibility."

"Lastly, and with the most potential for raising our profile, is a quick-and-dirty drive-by scan. This is the least ideal option for two reasons: first, the aforementioned profile raising. There is no way to do that on the sly, nor to cloak the scan from QOS' external sensors. Second, most shipyards deploy jammers to prevent, among other things, industrial espionage. With a quick drive-by scan, we won't get as detailed a report as we otherwise could with other methods. But if all else fails, or if there are no volunteers for other methods, it's good to have the plan in reserve."

Bevan cleared her throat and took a sip of coffee, then cleared her throat again more violently. The coffee really didn't help matters. "On that note -- these missions are voluntary. They have the potential to be exceedingly dangerous, and we don't take that lightly. That's why there is some flexibility as to whether and how you approach the missions. Now, I'll open the floor. Proposals, questions, volunteering, whatever you've got, I'm all ears."

Avenyx stood to the side of the podium and touched the controls to raise the lights a little so people could see each other when they spoke.

​

 

[Arcann Pehnataur]

PERSONAL LOG — ARCANN PEHNATAUR
Cairoka’s Gate, Section C
Timestamp: 2327 GST


I wasn’t supposed to be here.

I told myself I’d left the soldier’s life behind when I walked away from the Republic, from the committees, from the speeches about hope and reform that no one ever meant to keep. But here I am again — in a dim, recycled-air briefing room, surrounded by operatives half my age, listening to talk of infiltration routes and signal relays like it’s all muscle memory.

Maybe it is.

Bevan runs a tight room. Reminds me of command briefings from the old days — short on patience, long on purpose. She didn’t flinch when she saw my name on the roster, though I caught the momentary twitch of recognition in her jaw. I’ve gotten used to that: the look that says You were supposed to be dead or worse. I didn’t correct it. Let people believe what they need to.

When she opened the floor, I volunteered before I could stop myself. It felt… familiar. Natural. I said I could provide a diversion — walk into Kuati space with my name, my history, my face, and make sure every Imperial analyst in the sector loses sleep trying to figure out what I’m doing there. I told them, “I’ll be seen.” That got their attention.
Truth is, I don’t know if I’m doing this for the cause, or just because I owe my brother. Thexann has always been the anchor — the steady one. I was the storm. He built things; I broke them. Maybe this is my way of building something, even if it’s just buying time for others to act.

Kuat’s a risk. They remember the Eternal Empire’s fleets, the blockade, the destruction. They remember me. The Empire paraded me through their halls once, broken and bound, before my brother traded everything to get me back. They’ll be watching me the moment I enter the system. That’s the point. Let them.

If something happens — if I don’t come back — at least this record explains the decision. No one ordered me. No one manipulated me. I chose it. For once in my life, the choice is entirely mine.

Funny how that feels almost like peace.

End Log
-Arcann Pehnataur


TAG- Avenyx Bevan

This is when he speaks to someone in real time

​

 

[Sephira Mond]

Sephira listened impassively, her eyes drinking in the maps, the diagrams, the photos.

The end goal was fairly straightforward: verify the tip. Was it too good to be true? Could this mysterious informant be trusted? And would it be possible to heist an Imperial-style vessel and repurpose it for the good? Hands on hips, the young spylot (half spy, half pilot) glanced around the room at her fellows once the Quartermaster's introduction was done. Immediately, a man Sephira didn't immediately recognized volunteered to cause a divserion. Well, that caused the pieces to fit together. It could only be Arcann Pehnataur -- whose public presence would likely cause a stir.

She folded her arms across her trim midsection. "We could do any of them," said the pilot, gesturing with her chin toward Ivo Mozorov . "If a low-profile infiltration job is what you're after? We could do it. But if it's faster and easier, a hack job...?" She shrugged as her voice trailed off. "Doable, too. With Mr. Pehnataur causing a distraction, especially."

She glanced at Arcann a moment. "We'd need to have a reason for you to be there," Sephira said. "So it doesn't look like a distraction. But you probably knew that already."

 

[Ivo Mozorov]

Arcann Pehnataur Sephira Mond

Brows were furrowed as Ivo pushed his spectacles back up and watched the screens even after they had dimmed and the floor was given to them to offer suggestions.

One of which was a diversion. That could work, keep their attention away from the main prize and then get in. But the Quartermaster made a good point, it would mean a continued deployment for who knew how long. By the time they would be useful, the war might already be over, these things often took time whereas geopolitical considerations could shift in a moment's notice.

"Don't like the idea of a physical deployment." Ivo finally said in response to her question. "We would have to go dark for who knows how long, in the meantime the conflict keeps raging, imagine how much we will miss while sitting on our hands trying to verify information on that ship."

A glance towards Arcann and then nodding carefully.

"Hack job could do the trick. Mister Pehnateur causes diversion when he is on board, perhaps as a high roller coming to look for a custom ship job from the shipyards? Those are often high maintenance." Ivo shrugged. "Then as they focus on the diversion made by a drunk and annoying but rich and important figure, we could slice into the systems and extract the information we need."

He snapped his fingers.

"Hell, we could provide him with some remote slicing equipment, if he can get to one of the data ports, he could make our job easier too."

 

[Arcann Pehnataur]

PERSONAL LOG — ARCANN PEHNATAUR
Cairoka’s Gate, Section C
Timestamp: 2330 GST


If I didn’t know any better, it seems like people think I’m an old man.

They’re not wrong.

This spectacled fellow, Ivo, he’s an idea man, and there might be something to what he was bringing up. “Why, back in my day”... heh… We’d just go in and take it. The thought of me being “drunk” isn’t very off putting, or out of the norm sometimes, but those days are mostly behind me.

There was something to this idea though. Perhaps utilizing the materials already at my hands could help.

I am here to help however I can, perhaps there is something to this “ship” idea. I could speak to my brother about failed shipyard designs from his company. Use one of them as a “trade”, maybe looking for a collaboration. This could help gain access and maybe enable me to put in slices for your work? Or something of the like?

Clandestine operations is not my thing, never has been, but if what the Quartermaster is saying is true, then I would be remiss if I did not try to help. I am “playing with house money” in the regards of my life right now. I need to make it count. Ivo's idea has merit, and with the right approach, it could work. Leveraging the materials and connections at hand might open doors that would otherwise remain closed. If this collaboration comes to fruition, it could be a game-changer for everyone involved.

End Log
-Arcann Pehnataur
TAG- Avenyx Bevan Sephira Mond Ivo Mozorov

This is when he speaks to someone in real time

 

[Avenyx Bevan]

The Quartermaster watched the exchange between the agents, her fingers gently tapping against the podium. Little ripples echoed her taps in the paper cup of coffee. No plan survives first contact with the enemy. Or with allies, Avenyx amended to herself dryly. "Let's -- let's walk before we run, hm? Take me through what this proposal is, start to finish. We need to get a clear picture of what you're envisioning so we can see if Q, O, and -- heaven forbid, if necessary -- F Branches can support what you're proposing."

She picked up her coffee and gestured toward the room broadly, opening up the floor to Arcann Pehnataur , Ivo Mozorov , and Sephira Mond -- as well as the others in the room -- to detail their plan. "Start to finish. Step by step. Go ahead."

 

[Sephira Mond]

"Right then," Sephira said after a protracted silence. She stepped forward, clasping her hands together and rubbing them, as if working out the anxiety inherent to planning a top-secret mission with the self-soothing movement. That, or she was trying to mimic the raccoon from that one meme. You know the one.

"Mr. Pehnataur makes an appointment to meet with Crane on the Staryard to pull his 'let's make a deal' schtick. One of us -- or both, depending on how these men want to approach this -- goes with him as an aide of some extraction. His meeting pulls the focus while the other party or parties involved slip away unnoticed -- oh, I'm just looking for the little boy's room," she said in a reasonably strong impersonation of Ivo Mozorov 's voice and demeanor.

"The other can provide cover. Or we can be in one of the less ostentatious ships remotely slicing into the relay satellite. Attack this thing from both ends. If Mr. Pehnataur is the hot ticket he seems to be indicating, security will be focused on him and it could buy us the time and distraction we need to try to slice. That way, if the porg and fathier show on the staryard goes wrong, or if there's no opportunity to get what we need, we at least have a backup."

"So as per your request, Q: step one, get Pehnataur on Crane's calendar. Step two, get false papers for Moz -- that is, Special Agent Mozorov -- and notionally for me. Step three, build some kind of virus that can be auto-executed from a flashdrive. Step four -- maybe -- requisition a ship that one of us can use to remotely slice the Kuati relay satellite. It should be sneaky without looking too sneaky -- I'm sure you know the kind, Quartermaster. Bob's your uncle. Thoughts, gentlemen?"

She turned her attention back to Arcann Pehnataur and Ivo Mozorov , her black eyes piercing and inquisitive.

 

[Arcann Pehnataur]

PERSONAL LOG — ARCANN PEHNATAUR
Cairoka’s Gate, Section C
Timestamp: 2330 GST

---

Quartermaster Bevan is right to be suspicious. If I were in her position, I’d hesitate too. A former senator, former soldier, former everything, volunteering for an op that could put half a cell at risk? It’s enough to make anyone check under the table for detonators.

Though not outright asked, there was concern and a request we could walk her through how this doesn’t end with me in chains again. Truth is, I can’t guarantee anything. But guarantees are for diplomats and con artists. Soldiers live on odds, and today the odds happen to favor a man willing to be noticed.

Sephira Mond seems to understand that instinctively. She slid into the plan before anyone could talk her out of it, treating the idea like it was always obvious: dress me up, walk me into Crane’s office, and while the bureaucrats argue over who gets to shake my hand first, her team disappears into the guts of the Staryard. I admire her nerve. Clever, but not reckless. The kind of person who knows how to hide a blade under a smile.

Mozorov’s eager to play the fool. It unnerves me how comfortable he is with it, how quickly he slips into that harmless act. I’ve met men who used humor as a weapon, and most of them were lethal. If this mission works, it will be because Mond keeps her wits and Mozorov keeps his grin.

But the distraction — that’s on me.

None of them said it, bit it’s clear they see me as little more than an old man. Not cruel, just honest. I’m not the shock trooper I once was, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But I’ve spent enough years in public arenas to know how to weaponize a room. The way the Eternal Empire wielded fleets, I wielded attention. A senator’s reputation is just another kind of armor. Mine is tarnished, cracked, and still sharp enough to cut the unwary.

The Empire will recognize me in an instant. Good. Let them waste their time reading dossiers and debating whether I’m here to sell secrets or ask for favors. Let their analysts choke on speculation while the real work happens where they’re not looking.

That’s the trade. I put my neck back under the spotlight so others can slip into the shadows.

I told Bevan I chose this. I meant it. I’ve spent too many years letting others make decisions for me — emperors, generals, committees. Even survival was something bargained for by my brother, not earned by me.

Maybe this is payment. Maybe redemption. Maybe just the first time in a long time I’ve decided what my life is worth.

If this goes wrong, they’ll blame the fool who stood in the center of the room. If it goes right, they won’t remember I was there at all.

I’m fine with either outcome.

---

End Log

-Arcann Pehnataur
TAG- Avenyx Bevan Sephira Mond Ivo Mozorov

This is when he speaks to someone in real time

 

[Avenyx Bevan]

Bevan stood at the podium, watching the interchange. She was slightly dubious, but it didn't show on her face. She folded her arms across her trim midsection and considered the plan. It wasn't what the analysts suggested. It could possibly go badly wrong, but that was true of any plan they might try. "Right then," Avenyx said, bracing herself on the podium. She stepped out of her left high heeled shoe, scratched the back of her calf with her toes, and then worked her foot back into the shoe.

"Mr. Pehnataur, you'll arrange for a meeting at the staryard through your usual process. It must seem authentic, which is why I think using your own methods is best. Please keep me updated. Ms. Mond, you'll accompany him as his assistant. Come back at 1600 hours and Q Branch will have your new identity paperwork and the prototype slicing shard." Her eyes turned to Mozorov. "Mr. Mozorov, you'll be on the remote slicing gig. I'll need to confirm the details with you once I've ascertained the availability of a stealth craft suitable for the operation. See me at 1300 once I've had the opportunity to meet with our brothers in F Branch."

Avenyx turned off the screen and the lights came up. "If there's nothing further?" A quick glance around the room. Once all questions were answered, Bevan said: "You have your orders."

Ivo Mozorov | Arcann Pehnataur | Sephira Mond​

 

[Sephira Mond]

Sephira entered the Quartermaster's office at the appointed hour, leaning into the doorframe to.knock briefly before the redhead glanced up from her work distractedly and called her in. Bevan handed her a packet containing the paper documents to back up her false identity.

"Elitza Kornin," Sephira read out loud. "Masters Degree in engineering from Coronet University." She looked up at Bevan quizzically. "We don't think that's a little overqualified for a personal assistant?"

Bevan sipped her coffee and raised her eyebrows. She didn't mind the question but it didn't happen often. "For any other gig, maybe." She took a bite of the wampa claw pastry and brushed crumbs from her blouse, washed it down with another drink of coffee. "But for someone like Pehnataur? He'll want someone to bounce ideas off in the downtime. And if someone sees you snooping, it's a -- "

Sephira arrived at the same time Bevan did. "Built in explanation. Softens it. A... professional curiosity."

Bevan smiled wryly. "Right in one, Ms. Mond. And hopefully you'll be extended a professional courtesy and not thrown out an airlock."

"Simpler not to be spotted, I think," Sephira mused as she flipped through the rest of the packet.

"My preference as well," Bevan agreed. After a beat, she shook the paperboard box of pastries on her desk at Sephira. "Can I tempt you?"

"Thank you, but no." She tapped the packet. "Pehnataur has a copy of this?"

"Digital, but yes." She jotted a note in the datapad in front of her. "There's a dossier on Pehnataur there for you, too, in the datapad files. So you two can chat without sounding like it's your first time speaking. Do you know him?"

"No," said Sephira. "First time meeting him today as far as I know." She checked her datapad and saw that a file has indeed downloaded. "I think I'm all set then."

"All right," said Bevan. "Well then... you have your orders."

Avenyx Bevan | Arcann Pehnataur | Ivo Mozorov​

 

[Arcann Pehnataur]

PERSONAL LOG — ARCANN PEHNATAUR
Cairoka’s Gate, Section C
Timestamp: [REDACTED]

---

I returned from the comm suite an hour ago. The meeting is confirmed.

Jezminda Crane will receive me at Quayside Orbital Staryard in three days’ time, local Kuat standard. The appointment was granted more quickly than I expected, which in itself is worth noting. No delays, no scheduling games, no attempts to reroute me through intermediaries. Direct access. That usually means curiosity… or preparation.

The process to secure the meeting was thorough. Excessively so.

They verified my identity three separate ways, including records that should have been buried with the Senate archives. There were questions about my travel itinerary, how long I intended to remain in the system, and whether I planned to bring staff. One functionary asked, very casually, what facilities I wished to tour while I was present. Dry docks. Fabrication bays. Command decks.

I answered carefully. Too much interest would invite scrutiny; too little would raise suspicion. I requested nothing extraordinary. Just enough to seem like a man with money and influence who wants to feel important again.

What stood out was how little they cared about why I was coming, and how much they cared about how long I would be there.

That tells me a few things.

First, they expect me to be seen. They’re planning around my presence rather than questioning it. Second, they’re already thinking about containment — not arrest, not yet, but limits. Controlled access. Curated routes. If I stray, it will be noticed.

They asked if I had ever visited Quayside before. When I said no, there was a pause on the line. Not long enough to be rude. Long enough to be deliberate.

They are watching me already.

I brought the details to Quartermaster Bevan personally.

If they’re focused on me — my schedule, my movements, my expectations — then the plan is working. Their attention is narrowing, not widening. They’re building a box around me, which means everything outside that box is less guarded.

I can live inside a box for a few hours. I’ve done worse.

The only real variable is how far they intend to push their curiosity. If Crane insists on prolonged tours or additional meetings, I’ll have to play along. That may buy the team more time… or it may shorten my own.

Either way, this confirms what I suspected earlier. I’m not the guest.

I’m the event.

And as long as they keep watching me, they won’t see what matters.

---

End Log

-Arcann Pehnataur
TAG- Avenyx Bevan Sephira Mond Ivo Mozorov

This is when he speaks to someone in real time