Private Ready or Not

[Val Pellian]

UNKNOWN LOCATION
SIX HOURS AFTER HARLOW'S MURDER
Isobel Nakano | IVI

They were tied up together, back to back, bags over their head and in a sound-proof environment. He knew this because of the telltale way his screams were bouncing back to him instead of being slightly absorbed by the wall as sound traveled through the material. The reason that Val knew this was because as former Station Chief of Yag'dhul he had put plenty of people into rooms like this himself.

Maybe you know what they have done, maybe you don't. The key is that they have no idea what you do or do not know. So you let them stew. You take away their ability to move, to see, but you allow them the ability to speak.

In a fit of panic they might let something slip. In a hushed conversation with a fellow troublemaker they could argue their way into a confession. If they are alone they might simply scream themselves into a fit, which is when you swoop in and use their paranoia and panic against them. This was all to say that Val was particularly calm and steady in this situation. It hit different when you have been on the other side of it.

Instead he gently squeezed Isobel's hand.

This must flash her back straight to Harlow's room. At the very least... they had watched him bleed. They knew he was dead and wouldn't be coming back.

"We are ready to talk." Val finally said to the otherwise empty room. Oh, they were certainly watching, and Val had enough of the charade.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

you thought i'm dead and done; you'll know for sure tonight​

Isobel stared into the darkness of the hood that she wore, as if by staring so hard as to strain her eyes she could force her eyes to absorb enough light, force her brain to process it into an image, force there to be something to see that could be the means of their escape. But try as she might, all she could see were her hands around Cierrol Harlow's elegant neck, mussing his bow tie, until the light went out of his eyes. Even the other things that had transpired that night -- the look of gratitude in the eyes of the three women that had been in his apartment, all with hauntingly familiar features; the approach of security and police forces; the look of grim determination in Val Pellian's face -- she could not summon in her memory.

Only Harlow. Only that spark of recognition in his eyes, the perverse glint, then the fear, the realization that this time Isobel Nakano wore no leash. The sensation of his windpipe relenting under her grip. The pain as she gritted her teeth, summoning all her strength. The dull ache where he had kneed her in the side, in one last ditch effort to save himself.

She did not, would not, could not force herself to regret it. Perhaps it was murder in the eyes of the law. Isobel knew better. Cierrol Harlow was a danger -- to her and to the women in his apartment and as far as Isobel was concerned to women everywhere. To society. Governments came and went, but evil like his was eternal. Unless someone did something about it.

Isobel preferred not to give the governing authority in these parts -- the Galactic Alliance -- the opportunity to make a deal with this particular devil the way Delilah Graham had. Oh, she had had her reasons: she and Val had found the blackmail files, the threats, the recordings. Harlow in Graham's Garden District apartment in Avalonia. Harlow threatening Graham's partner. Harlow offering up competing crime lords in exchange for amnesty. That was Cierrol Harlow: usually a carrot, but always a stick.

It wasn't to say she was without regrets. She regretted dragging Val into the sordid affair, particularly now that they were in custody. This was her fight, her burden, and -- if murder it was -- her crime. Isobel flinched when his hand squeezed hers; she had been there again in her mind, that dimly-lit warehouse office suite on Yag'dhul, curiously well-appointed for the building's purpose and location. Shaking her head back into the present, she lifted her head, resting her head against the back of his. She was about to say something when Val himself spoke.

"We are ready to talk."

She stiffened, then spoke in a hoarse, dry-throated whisper: "Are we?"

Val Pellian | IVI​

 

[Val Pellian]

Isobel Nakano | IVI

He slowly stretched and tried to project more confidence than he felt.

They were captured by the Galactic Alliance.

Old history would suggest they'd be safe from the real bad things. There wasn't a Val Pellian at the other end of that door. Someone who was authorized to break and snap and tear, until all secrets laid open in front of him. But there were rumors. Even in the intelligence community people talked. The Alliance was going through a shift in operations.

Understandably so. The Galaxy was becoming rapidly less predictable with the collapse of all these nations in the last few weeks.

"Yes." Val murmured calmly but loud enough the person on the other end of the door did not have to strain. "We were captured practically the moment we exited the apartment."

He had been running the scenario in his head for a while now. How likely was it that the SIA had known of their plans and let them execute it?

"They did not deliver us to the Law. They didn't speak to us, didn't ask us any questions, just put us in a little room." Together, not separate. That was important because it suggested they weren't interested in comparing their stories. "They have been waiting until someone with high enough clearance will show up, because they know what we are."

If they hadn't known they were former FOSB? Yeah, they'd already be seeing a prison cell.

"So, yes, we are ready to talk... for the right offer."

 

[Isobel Nakano]

i'm rising from my shallow grave, and i'm holdin' my switchblade tight​

Isobel shut her eyes; she didn't realize how dry and scratchy they had become in the intervening time. She wasn't sure about this. "If they were watching the apartment," she reasoned hoarsely -- still likely loud enough to be overheard, given that she couldn't whisper effectively in ehr current state -- "That means they were watching Harlow. And if they're upset about him being a footnote of history, that's not great news. Frankly the only thing I'm interested in discussing is the size and route of the fucking parade they should throw us for making it so."

She twisted a little, testing the strength of the bonds that bound them.

"And if they aren't?" Isobel continued to reason through things. Granted, she was not in her best shape, having been confined for some time, having been in a highly emotional state. "If they had a problem with him but let him carry on -- you saw those women." Young women. Atrisian heritage. She shivered violently, causing the chair she was stuck in to tremble. "Wouldn't they try to stop it? Unless he had some kind of deal. Like with Delilah."

A pause as she flexed her shoulders, trying to find a comfortable position. "Cowardice," she declared.

Finally she relented, slumping forward. She listened to the rest of Val's explanation, then stifled a smirking chuckle under the bag. "They're in for a lifetime of heartache, I guess. I wouldn't know a First Order state secret that's not years out of date if it fell into my lap. But -- if they want to hear what I know about Harlow then -- yes, I'm ready to talk."

It was a fine pickle to be in.

A deep breath. "If it comes to it, I'll tell them the truth. It was me. You were just -- caught up. Should be a lesser charge." Isobel leaned her head back again, brushing lightly against his. "I did it. And I'd do it again. You should be all right."

Val Pellian | IVI​

 

[IVI]

Six, almost seven, hours was not a long time.

When M received the alert that the renegade agents were starting to show signs of weariness, she was about to go home for the day. She was glad that had not been the case — what had been gathered in the files on the two people back-to-back made this one of those sensitive situations that she preferred to be overseer and conductor of.

Mostly because she wasn’t just looking for a confession.

Inaction lasted just less than ten minutes after one hood — Former agent Pellian — announced they were ready to talk. The time from request to response allowed time for their exchange, and, at some point, it looked like both hoods had their chins up. Which M assumed meant they’d reached an agreement.

When the door hissed open, the sanctity of Isobel’s murmurs to Val were protected. The director and the agent that had been monitoring the tiny room walked into charged silence.

There was pride to be found in the prisoner’s posture. Despite having their arms aching and tied behind their backs, their shoulders both seemed equal measures of straight. Professional, even. M liked that.

M walked slower than her Amaran agent. If she hadn’t been there, the vulpine would have been responsible for the conversation; they were a tenacious negotiator and well-suited to bartering for freedoms and confessions. Instead, they’d simply observe from the room outside after they reached up and pulled off the hoods of the tied up pair.

Isobel Nakano ’s was first. M watched her react to the sudden light of the pale, bright, white room.

Then Val Pellian 's.

“You’re both ready to talk, then? Where would you like to start.”

 

[Val Pellian]

IVI | Isobel Nakano

Pupils shrunk to a pinpoint and then steadily got used to the harsh light.

This was the only sign of Val's momentary discomfort, before he pulled it back in and quietly glanced to the side and up to the face of their captor. Internally he was impressed. The Director herself. M. She hadn't been part of the original Galactic Alliance, the one the First Order had fought when he was a station chief, but she was around during the second rise of the Order.

The fact that she was here personally for this? That confirmed a number of his assumptions.

"At the price of our cooperation, madam Director." Val responded calmly without averting his eyes from those blood red sights. Chiss truly had a natural benefit in terms of intimidation with globes like that.

"By all accounts we should have been either imprisoned by the Marshals or executed in an alleyway, but here we are with the undivided attention of the SIA Director herself." There Val inclined his head in respect. People in their craft talked, as he previously noted, and M was considered an especially crafty operator.

You had to respect a creature like this working under the confines and eyes of the Jedi and still coming up on top.

"We want a new beginning in the Galactic Alliance. To start fresh and continue to do what we do so well." A slight curl upwards of his mouth. Yes, ironic considering they were currently tied-up in an Alliance black site, but even the best had limitations they needed to deal with.

"Fresh slate, comfortable placement, outlook towards even more comfortable retirement..." Val shrugged. "...and everything we know is yours." For Isobel that might mean little. She had left the FOSB and didn't look back. But Val on the other hand? He had been moonlighting for years for Graham even after Isobel's resignation. It would probably break Delilah's heart (not likely) but he had plenty of access and information that the Alliance could use, if they wished to expand into the Unknown Regions.

A veritable treasure trove, in fact.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

'cause you can blast me with dynamite, but i won't rest in pieces​

The young woman flinched as the hood was pulled from her head -- less in surprise than as a reaction to the light. She had been nursing a headache since her tussle with Harlow, and the sudden introduction of light didn't help matters. She blinked away the shift and squinted for a moment as her eyes adjusted. Only then did she turn towards her captor.

Before she had a chance to respond, though, Val Pellian began to give away the store.

Fains I be Agent Crane when Delilah Graham finds out he's singing like a canary, Isobel thought grimly. Her wrists twisted in their bindings and she turned her head, the better to hear Val's commentary. Everything we know? He's gone completely 'round the bend. Their reputation in the intelligence community -- such as it was -- might suffer from the knowledge that they had leaked like sieves. Still, the First Order was gone. The Supreme Leader had disappeared and the government had collapsed in uncertain circumstances some months later. There was nothing left to be loyal to, except Delilah Graham. Val's continued association with her meant something -- something Isobel didn't like to contemplate -- so for him to pledge to sell out her secrets was no small thing.

The revelations that had come from their search of Harlow's apartment had given a fresh perspective on the graceful, auburn-haired woman that had once been Isobel's handler. Isobel didn't know if Delilah being bullied and blackmailed into going along with Harlow absolved her of her sins. Delilah knew better than anyone -- except Isobel herself -- what Harlow was responsible for. She couldn't bring herself to fully explain to Val; it might change the way he saw her, to know that she jumped at every shadow and exactly why, when Val himself was so cocksure and confident. Perhaps Harlow's invasion of Delilah's life had done the same to her. Perhaps that would have to be justice enough for her.

Very subtle, Isobel mused silently at Val. Not at all desperate.

Still, it was time for Isobel to sing for her supper now that Val had committed them.

"What he said. I left the Strategic Operations Executive several years ago, but one... hears things. And of course, I'd be willing to expand operations of Black Lotus at the disposal of the Galactic Alliance. I'm sure the SIA is aware that doesn't just mean high-end fashion and naughty lingerie." She paused a beat, finally turning her head to the Alliance personnel. Isobel favored them with a charismatic half-smile. "Unless that's your thing."

Val Pellian | IVI​

 

[IVI]

Not an interrogation indeed. A negotiation. She’d hoped for this much, but for it to be so forthright was welcome.

But a turncoat being so forthright was one thing — a turncoat from a nation long-passed was another. No nation was ever truly irrelevant, and the information of a crippled government had value. Perhaps not as much worth as information on, say, the growing, murmuring threat in the Outer Rim, but value nonetheless.

“True, The Alliance is built on the possibility of new beginnings.” M intoned and folded her hands in front of her. A luxurious gesture neither of them could afford.

She looked to Isobel more intently.

“The Black Lotus is a formidable offer, former Agent Nakano.” The information from one individual could be a shoestring, but the information potential from a business network was a ball of yarn at least!

“It would appear that both your operations have outlasted the Strategic Operations Executive by quite the timeline.”

Her hands opened and she shrugged lightly.

“If you hadn’t been apprehended for Harlow’s murder — would we be having this conversation with you both in more comfortable seats? Or maybe just one of you?” M tilted her head to the side and blinked once. It wasn’t just jail they wanted to avoid; was there something worse chasing them? Her files were good, but they were limited.

“Or were you considering other retirement options before opportunity bagged itself over your head.”

---

Isobel Nakano / Val Pellian

 

[Val Pellian]

Isobel Nakano | IVI

Val smirked when she mentioned how good the offer of Black Lotus was. He had always been proud of the work Isobel had done with it. Above and beyond what a field agent usually does. The fact that she hadn't been promoted to station chief herself? Well, it was a crime. Then again... you needed a certain sense of ruthlessness to be a station chief. Could Isobel oversee the sort of torture that Val had grown accustomed to over his long years on Yag'dhul?

Unclear and perhaps it was for the best they wouldn't find out.

"I was considering going freelance." Val responded dryly with a hint of humor. "Having a boss can be so depressing sometimes. The ability to choose your own hours, your own jobs, well, it had an allure to it."

It wasn't very far from the truth even with the humor attached to it.

Then Val decided to be really truthful.

"But mostly I did not consider the Alliance, because for the longest time I thought you were all a bunch of fragile pansies." His eyes held hers. "But I am changing my perspective on the matter." Would the SIS, the first Alliance's strategic organization, been camped out on Harlow's doorstep just to map out his contacts and figure out his entire network? With all the nasty horrible chit he was up to?

Val doubted it. The fact that the SIA had less compunction about its methods made him infinitely more interested in being an agent for them.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

i'm a revenant, baby, and i'll be back​

It was pathetic, perhaps, that Isobel felt a hit of dopamine that Black Lotus was seen as a kind of boon to the Director. It was her life's work, after all, and something of which she was proud. She had built it with just her own initiative and ideas. Well... and a teeny, tiny little credits infusion from her wealthy parents. But mostly her own initiative and ideas.

She tried not to let the pleasure show on her face. This was a negotiation, after all.

Not showing her pleasure was made easier when she flinched at the word 'murder'.

Val went first. Showing his cards. What is with him today? Isobel's brow quirked up, but she couldn't see him, tied as they were back to back.

The question was a surprise to Isobel, certainly, mostly because she had been toying with the idea for some time. She remembered bringing it up to Val a few months before they'd got the hit that Harlow was here. He'd demurred on the premise that the Alliance were... soft. Not prepared to take the hard choices that were necessary to protect a government. Had there been an implicit rebuke there for her? When she was on operations, she tried to keep things from getting out of hand, to use only as much violence as was necessary, even if it meant taking the long way 'round. Val was different from Isobel. Hard edged, where she was --

-- a sickening Pop! as Harlow's throat yielded to her thumbs, whimper of protest squelching --

She forced herself back to the present, her dark almond eyes widening.

"I -- " she began, then hesitated. Was she about to spill her guts to this stranger, Director or not? Swallowed a lump in her throat, swallowed her pride. She summoned a bit of bravado that she didn't quite feel. " -- unlike my associate here, I like some structure to my life. As your files no doubt will tell you, I ran an independent intelligence agency after I left the First Order under the auspices of Lotus Universal. I was the boss and I gave the orders, but without a cause there -- it began to feel like vigilantism, and that's not really my bag. So -- yes. I think we would have ended up in this position one way or another, though I couldn't say whether the chairs would be more comfortable. But -- I have a question of my own, if you don't mind, Director."

Dark eyes narrowed and she tried to square her shoulders. Tough with the aching joints inflicted by the bindings. "If we hadn't killed Harlow -- murder is so unmusical a word, don't you think? -- would he still be roaming your streets free tonight? Tomorrow? Next week? Pushing his trade of drugs and flesh and misery? Were you cultivating him? Or did he have something on someone in the Alliance to keep him off the booking dockets, like he did back in the First Order?"

Val Pellian | IVI​

 

[IVI]

M only made a small sound of consideration, like a hm, when Val Pellian spoke his piece. Charismatic while captive wasn't something that could be taught to agents. That in itself was an asset for a would-be-recruit. But, she pursued no further information from him, and instead turned her attention back to the orchestrator of the Black Lotus.

Isobel Nakano revealed far more than M anticipated. Was she trustworthy, though?

Truthfully, Isobel seemed a little less in control than Val. But only because this situation seemed more emotional, or persona— ah, there it was. The wonderings about Harlow and how far the SIA's interest in the man went. This was a closer subject to her, than Val.

"Our tabs on Harlow are mostly observational, to see how deep his connections go and what other forces he's connected to that could cause harm within Alliance space. We needed him alive to make those connections, despite his deviant conduct." Deviant was putting it lightly, from what she'd seen of the reports. It wasn't her major priority, though. Her passion was still on those who'd destroyed her homeworld — but putting someone else, passionate, on the case...

"Although, his untimely death might cause a stir amidst those same connections." She paused, feigning thoughtfulness.

"This conversation began with you two negotiating a job within the SIA. If you would like further information on Harlow, and the SIA's ongoing intentions with him and all those he's affected, that could be arranged as your trial introduction as agents for The Alliance — time will be of the essence on this case now that you've pushed it along to the extreme end.

That does mean, however, that before you begin under the supervision of my team, you will have to give statements of your work, official or otherwise, relating to Harlow. So long as you continue to work for me, starting with the conclusion of this case, your statements will remain within SIA's protected jurisdiction and used only by those assigned to the case itself."

 

[Isobel Nakano]

it's gonna be one pale mornin', or middle of the night​

Isobel felt her gaze narrowing at the woman. It seemed like Val's concerns might have been overblown that these Alliance types weren't just as willing as he to sacrifice for whatever their idea of greater good was. They were happy, it seemed, to let Harlow do his thing as long as he could lead them to bigger fish to fry. The thought made her want to be sick. Careerist, something inside her hissed with derision. Not an unfair criticism, probably, but certainly a hypocritical one. There were a lot of thugs that Isobel had let walk in order to get information. Murderers, rapists, thieves, extortionists -- the real crème de la crème. What was different about Harlow?

It was obvious. Harlow was her bogeyman.

"I wouldn't be too concerned," she told IVI . Her voice was unconcerned, yet anything but casual. She wasn't dismissing the Director's concern, but she couldn't force herself to be apologetic about it either. "Harlow's organization is sophisticated. Killing him will destabilize it -- hopefully fatally so -- but he had a loyal leftenant -- loyal within some rather heavy-lifting inverted commas, of course. If you have halfway decent signal intelligence which you obviously do, you'll see where the news of his demise spreads to and how. We installed sniffers on his network for that very purpose. Happy to hand over the credentials, naturally."

The people -- if you could call them people -- who worked with and for Cierrol Harlow would begin to jockey for position in the vacuum left by his timely demise. Dropping a pebble the size of Harlow caused a certain amount of rippling. It would be trackable if you knew which pond to look in.

Isobel's dark gaze met the Director's. "Statement of work -- you mean a confession. All right. Seems like you've got us dead to rights." Chewing the inside of her cheek. "I met Cierrol Harlow several years ago on Yag'dhul. We weren't so much formally introduced -- he abducted me from my hotel room in order to destabilize the First Order's operations there, overseen by the distinguished gentleman behind me." She took a breath, trying not to let it shake. "We became better acquainted during the time that he tortured me nearly to death. From that moment to this I've never closed my eyes without seeing his face. He blackmailed or threatened his way into some kind of arrangement with my former employer Delilah Graham to get immunity for his crimes against me and every other victim he had in First Order space. I quit and began tracking him. Years passed. Occasionally he'd pop up in some exotic locale or another. Nar Shaddaa, Empress Teta, even Dosuun once or twice. Always gone by the time my agents arrived. Until now."

She swallowed audibly, looking forward, as if watching the events of the night unfold at cinema. "We tracked him, found his apartment. We were waiting for him when he let himself in. Let me tell you that the fear in his eyes when he saw me there, like some kind of avenging angel... it was like the most exquisite liqueur you've ever tasted. Better than anything they sell for six figures a shot in the Palace District in Avalonia. I strangled him with these hands." Her arms flexed in their bindings. "He tried to beg for his life, of course, but we both knew we had reached the end of our story. After seeing what he was up to in that penthouse, there was no other way it was going to end. He wasn't capable of remorse, you see, or reform. He got away with what he did to me and to countless others and instead of laying low, instead of counting himself lucky to have escaped -- he found more victims to exploit and abuse and destroy." Another shaky breath.

After a moment of staring wide-eyed ahead of her, as if, Isobel's eyes closed and when she spoke, her voice was conversational. "Is that what you wanted, Director?"

Val Pellian | IVI​

 

[IVI]

The mutual benefit of accepting the renegade agents to her cause was becoming more and more obvious. Credentials, a business, two qualified personnel — the only loss-leader was trust. But that could be earned on both sides.

M listened carefully to the personal retelling of affairs with C. Harlow. Something behind her ribs shifted, and while these people were not her agents, M had a softness for the brutalities that tended to come with the job.

She’d almost forgotten them, but then she’d had her face beaten in, and it rekindled her sympathies something fierce. Outwardly, she looked like an impassive listener. Her ears only perked at another name dropped, one that had been highlighted in a dossier somewhere. Delilah Graham.

It truly was a small galaxy.

The story, nor the interest, ended there. It got far more personal, and M cast a wayward look over her shoulder to the vulpine in the corner. The fox-faced interrogator nodded back once.

“More than, former Agent Nakano.

This has been a personal affair for you. More personal than any of the agents the SIA has assigned to this case. It seems appropriate that you and former agent Pellian see this through with a more formal conclusion, and the proper active resources.

That’s hard to do when you’re arrested for murder. We’ll see to it that those records are updated with your statements and your introductory interviews, relating them to The Agency's activity.

You’ll have a senior agent assigned to you for oversight. But this will be the chance you've negotiated to be a part of the SIA and chase the ripples from the stone you dropped.” She made another gesture with her hands, and the vulpine moved in with something that looked like a sleek magnet. He held it over their restraints.

At the same time, two more agents in well-tailored suits arrived on the other side of the wall. The only indication of their arrival was a three-point-buzz at M’s hip.

“A team will be with you momentarily to go through the introductory process, and formalize the exchanges of the aforementioned credentials and discuss the integration of Black Lotus to our affairs.”

Then, the suits came in, and M took a step backward.

“Further questions for me, before you get started?”

---

Val Pellian | Isobel Nakano

 

[Val Pellian]

IVI | Isobel Nakano

He listened almost as impassively as M did.

It was only the balling of his fist and relaxing that revealed any lingering tension there. It was funny, that. Put the man in a room with a bag over his head and he was fine. No sweat, no increase in heart pulse. Just professionalism as Val negotiated his way out of a murder charge into a new job opportunity with a career attached to it.

But this was different. What Val regretted was not being able to squeeze the life out of Harlow himself.

It wouldn't have been fair however.

That kill belonged to Isobel and she had to see it through herself. Val understood that.

"I prefer to keep my old tag. Crane." Val said in response to M asking if they had any questions. "Bit obvious, but." There was a light shrug there. "A face like this doesn't hide easily anyway. Might be sentimental but I have always enjoyed it." Agent Crane. He also missed Isobel's old tag. Lotus. It had been fun like that.

Crane and Lotus.

"Other than that... eager to get started, Director, thank you for taking a chance with us."

 

[Isobel Nakano]

when i come 'round to take your life, i know it will feel all right​

It was not lost on Isobel Nakano that she had essentially signed a confession that would give this mysterious IVI and her successors in interest the power to imprison her for the rest of her natural life. Some governments still took homicide so personally, which Isobel could certainly understand, but when it came to creatures like Harlow... well, sometimes you've just got to kill a guy. And if she ever outlived her usefulness to IVI or the SIA or the Galactic Alliance itself, there it was: a one-way ticket to the clink.

She made a mental note to get her false credentials updated. She would play ball with these people, but she had been burned by her country once before -- another Delilah Graham Original™ meant to save her own skin at the expense of Isobel's -- and she was not so keen to do it again.

Isobel expected the babysitter, but it would have been churlish to invade the Alliance's jurisdiction, kill someone, get caught, and then demand to be left to her own devices, so she merely inclined her head in assent. "Since the only people left alive to know my former codename, I don't see why I shouldn't use it again. You know, old time's sake and all. Lotus, at your service." It felt like putting on a once-beloved dress that had been thought ruined by some clod who couldn't hold his red wine, only to find that it was as perfect and well-fitted as it had ever been. Her lips twitched up in an enigmatic smirk.

"No other questions, Director," said Isobel. She took a breath, dialing back her fear- and adrenaline-induced bravado down from 11 to 4, her dark eyes softening. Her voice all sincerity for once. "Thank you. For the opportunity."

Val Pellian | IVI​

 

[IVI]

"Crane and Lotus." M mused. Her thoughts wandered to the corners of her lips, and her mouth sharpened into a narrow smile.

"That's who you were, and that's who you'll be then. Be careful not to let nostalgia prevent you from embracing the freshness of a new opportunity. Welcome to the SIA."

M folded her hands in front of her and nodded once before turning to leave the room. In her stead, two broad-shouldered agents entered to escort the pair of former First Order agents into a debriefing room.

It might have been relatively quick to be accepted into the The Alliance's Intelligence Agency, but it would be a long time until the comforts of rest were available to them. Both Val Pellian and Isobel Nakano were subject to a long night of onboarding, interviews and processes that secured their transition.

 

[Val Pellian]

Isobel Nakano

By the end of it even Val was a bit exhausted.

IVI 's people were thorough and that earned his respect all over again. As did the newfound pragmatism in the organization. A decade or two ago and he would never have considered joining up. The Galactic Alliance of then was a bunch of softies. They were incapable of making the hard decisions to get to people and security for their people.

Now however?

Tracking Harlow and waiting, until they could roll up his whole network? It was exactly the sort of ruthless nature he had employed in the FOSB. Not something to be enjoyed.

But something necessary at times.

"Need a smoke?" Murmured to Isobel as they walked out of the building together. Once outside Val didn't immediately put distance between himself and the building. Why? It was what it was. Instead he leaned against the wall and lit himself a cigarette. If Isobel wanted one, he'd extend it, if she just wanted to bum from his that would be fine too.

"Well, that was something. Any thoughts on the matter, Agent Lotus?" A sly smirk there.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

'cause you can bury me underground, paved over for good measure​

Isobel watched IVI leave and swallowed audibly. They were in it now.

Later, after the hours of debriefings and introductions, Isobel left the building with Val. A wind, channeled between the canyons of the city's buildings, blew the tails of her long coat away from her briefly until she pulled it back around her and secured it with its belt. She waited as he lit up a cigarette and when he offered her a cigarette, instead she reached up to nimbly pluck the smoldering cigarette from his fingertips to take a drag. "Thanks," she murmured, then exhaled deeply. Silvery tendrils billowed between them, and her dark eyes scrutinized Val through the smoke.

She thought about his question for a few moments, took another drag of the cigarette, then offered it back to him with an elegant twist of her slender fingers.

"I hope you know what you're doing," was Isobel's only wary response. Silence stretched between them for a few long moments, then: "I'm going to text my assistant and have her book us a hotel. I need a hot bath. Maybe something to eat. You coming?" She began tapping away at her datapad.

Val Pellian | IVI​