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Post by Emma T. Baskerville on Nov 6, 2012 8:41:50 GMT -6
Emma was twenty-seven. At twenty-two, she'd been an assassin for eight years and made her first official 'mistake.'
A simple tag-and-bag on a little island on the Grand Line had transitioned into an unexpectedly complicated shootout when the mark had turned out to be a Devil Fruit user of unusual strength. The resulting destruction had cut a bloody swathe through town, street samurai, pirate scum, even a sushi vendor who happened to be a merman merman boiling out of every alley and window in order to join in on the 'fun.'
In of itself, hardly unusual.
But then the marines had gotten involved and afterwards she had simply let them get on with their daily lives.
It had been a minor thing as errors in judgement go, hardly a risk that would compromise security or have her handed over to the justice system for 'judgment' - but she had still been reprimanded for it. No matter how public the operation became, it was always assumed, until declared otherwise, that secrecy was paramount. The marines needn't have been killed - but debriefed and given orders from on high to keep their traps shut?
Pain-in-the-ass but necessary, yes. If only to keep the bureaucratic typewriter monkey happy.
Fast-forward five years.
The room was wreathed in shadows: the line of light seeping in from underneath the door barely illuminated a single table, chair and person. The air smelled musty with disuse, a consequence of the marines here having their own private rooms and cells and being, on the whole, rather well-behaved.
Her name was Victoria Locke, Petty Officer. She had committed the inadvertent 'crime' of witnessing a delicate cipher pol operation. Certain identities had been compromised, certain assassinated individuals understood to be individuals, Emma Baskerville's current role as Honorary Lieutenant Janissary Fortinbras, spoiled, snobby noble, revealed to be just that, a role.
The door opened, Emma Baskerville strode in.
"Petty Officer Locke," she declared, her aristocratic affectation disappeared, "I hope you understand why exactly it is you are here."
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Post by Victoria Locke on Nov 6, 2012 13:19:02 GMT -6
The unpleasant smell... The darkness... And the hanging feeling of dread kept the figure sitting in the chair silent. Victoria’s blank stare had been directed at the table for the last ten minutes. Despite wearing a full uniform, she was still feeling cold. It was this room. Simply being here was like a silent accusation that she had done something wrong. For such a loyal marine, it was a nightmare. Her colleagues hadn’t said much, only that she would be meeting a high-ranking superior. Whether she was actually guilty of anything or not was irrelevant. She had been brought into this horrible room for a reason and she hadn’t been trained to question her superiors.
When the door opened, Victoria snapped back to reality and slowly lifted her eyes. The sight almost made her heart stop and the gears in her head started spinning. Her eyes carefully observed the taller woman, noting the long, blonde hair, refined attire and intimidating gaze beneath the round glasses. They were all too familiar. She knew that woman... From five years ago... Because of that big shootout... The memories were spotty. She had tried to forget, partially succeeded too, but there were still enough details left to haunt her. The shock was all too apparent on her face, but it passed quickly enough, shifting into defeated acceptance. Now she knew why she had been brought here.
At least so she thought.
The marine swallowed nervously when the blonde woman posed her question. She nodded and managed to keep an eye contact, but it took the last shreds of her confidence. "Yes, ma’am. I am here because five years ago I learned about a top secret operation far beyond what my rank allows me to know." The answer was as honest as she could give with absolute certainty. Her memory was distorting the details and giving any false information to her superior would’ve been absolutely unforgivable. As much as she wanted to ask about the incident and refresh her memory, she knew better than to speak without permission. Her duty was simply to listen and do as she was told.
Nothing more and nothing less.
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Post by Emma T. Baskerville on Nov 6, 2012 13:44:06 GMT -6
"Excellent," Emma murmured, her padded footsteps just a little louder than absolutely necessary. "Your memory does you credit Petty Officer - have you had any offers from Cipher Pol?"
Keep them off-balance, keep them wondering, keep them nervous, but most importantly keep them hopeful. Those were the interrogation basics.
"But never mind that," she said breezily, sitting down in the chair facing Victoria. An arcane, barely seen gesture from her fingers and the lights went on, blinding in their sudden intensity. The message was clear: they were being watched and listened to. "You were not properly debriefed as to the circumstances of the last time we crossed paths, an unfortunate oversight that I am now rectifying."
Reaching into her shirt pocket, she extracted two cigarillos, and out of apparent courtesy, offered one to the marine. Unsurprisingly, she refused it. Tapping it back into her pocket, the dark-skinned blonde uttered a pointless "Do you mind?" before lighting her own, in a show of obvious indifference to the marine's answer.
The Baskerville blew out a long narrow stream of smoke before beginning to talk again.
"As you might have surmised I am the black ops of the marines, the grey cloak to the marine white. The situation five years ago was delicate, our presence... necessary."
"As it is here. You have been a very good girl, Petty Officer: perhaps you'll be glad to hear that our organization is very thorough. That you were not debriefed meant that someone, somewhere decided that it was unnecessary, your ability to keep your mouth shut not requiring a visit such as this one. But due to that, we have arrived at something of an unusual scenario where you are aware that I am not, in fact, an actual honorary marine lieutenant. Or not a conventional one, in any case."
She leaned forward on the table, suddenly intent.
"So the question is, Petty Officer, can you keep a secret?"
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Post by Victoria Locke on Nov 7, 2012 12:51:34 GMT -6
Hearing the approving mutter eased Victoria’s mind somewhat. The question was odd, but why her superior, who knew about these things better than she did, asked such thing was none of her concern. "No, ma’am." In fact, she had gotten barely any promotion offers. It had been bit of a struggle to get this far despite her unflinching loyalty. Her superiors had deemed her as too... trigger-happy. That’s what they called her. She understood it completely. Her habit of firing before asking questions made her a risk during delicate missions. She was not fit to take bigger responsibility. The sudden flash of light interrupted her thoughts, forcing her to shield her eyes temporarily. So, they were not alone.
The realization brought back the chilling feeling from before...
Upon being offered a smoke, Victoria only shook her head quietly, turning down the offer as politely as she could. She only smoked to relieve stress. Right now, she didn’t deserve such luxury, not until she could be sure her superiors weren’t holding anything against her. When the intimidating woman asked the meaningless question, the marine just shook her head again if only to prove she was still alert. Being a smoker as well, she naturally didn’t mind and even if she had, she wouldn’t have said a thing. Her superiors didn’t need her opinion, much less her permission, as the blonde woman demonstrated.
Victoria leaned forward slightly, listening carefully as the refined woman explained bit more about the situation. At this point, the question about her willingness to stay silent was no longer surprising. She didn’t even need to think about it. The answer was honest, suddenly confident and backed up by a firm nod. "Yes, ma’am. I will take secrets to my grave." As soon as she had said that, her hand wandered from her lap to her right pocket, carefully checking that the detonator for her trump card was still there. It was a force of habit, something she did when she was feeling nervous. She needed her safety pieces, like her weapons, but she had left those outside the room. Countless questions were making a mess inside her head, but for now she could only ignore them.
Common sense told her that any amount of curiosity would’ve been very dangerous here.
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Post by Emma T. Baskerville on Nov 7, 2012 19:43:21 GMT -6
"Perfect!" Emma smiled, revealing sharp, inch-long canines. "Because you will have some secrets to keep in order to ensure this all run smoothly. And we both, obviously, wish all our operations to run smoothly, yes?"
Leaning backwards, the Cipher Pol Agent smirked crookedly, taking another puff on her cigarillo. A more cynical soul might suspect that she was taking some twisted pleasure in the marine's squirming anxiety, but the reality was rather more benign: she was just following protocol.
Protocol, fortunately for Cipher Pol, was fairly flexible.
After a moment's shaky silence, she continued, straightening to a more formal pose, steepling her fingers in front of her.
For a moment, the light conspired to make it look like she had aged three decades and scored a solid ninety on the authoritatively menacing scale.
"Traditionally, you would be re-assigned to a more interesting post in order to keep operational security up to par. And that is still an option, should you ask for it. There's a vice-admiral on the look-out for manpower," she raised one eyebrow, "it would be an intriguing post, I think."
Taking a folder out of her coat, she extracted a single sheaf of paper and slid it along the table to the Petty Officer.
"Keep that. Whenever you want out, sign it and hand it in and you will be on the first transport out."
The folder disappeared back into the recesses of her voluminous coat.
"But if you want to stay, well, then you'll be integrated into Cipher Pol operations. Just small things - you'll have a pay raise to represent your added duties, of course - but if we need you to look aside, you will look aside, and if we need your cooperation on certain issues, we will expect it to be rendered with the minimum possible delay."
"Do you understand?"
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Post by Victoria Locke on Nov 8, 2012 2:40:06 GMT -6
Victoria slipped her hand back to her lap and nervously squeezed it into a fist when the blonde woman smiled. She tried not to stare, but her eyes still focused on the sharp teeth. Something about that woman felt off... As if she was just toying with her. It was making the measly marine shiver. At the same time, she tried her hardest to silence such suspicious thoughts. Her superiors always knew what they were doing. That’s why they had gotten so high on the ladder. She had to trust their judgment completely. If this was how they handled things, then it was the right way.
The break in silence was welcomed as it gave the anxious marine something else to focus on. However, Victoria swallowed nervously once she realized just how much authority such a refined woman held in a single look. Large part of her secretly admired such impressive trait. Any fool could yell and threaten people into submission, but the greatest leaders didn’t have to say anything at all to get their point through. The mention of a "more interesting post" received a visibly mixed reaction. On one hand, Victoria wanted to feel honored by the offer, but on the other hand, the cold feeling crawling up her spine made her wary of what the woman actually meant by interesting.
Some people called prisons interesting.
Shifting her focus on the table for a moment, Victoria took the offered paper and gave it a quick glance before folding it neatly and tucking it into her pocket. Right now, she didn’t really feel like reading it in detail. Perhaps she would look through it later today, when she could fully focus on it. It wasn’t like she was going to sign it anytime soon either. "Yes, ma’am, I understand completely." While her skills may have been insignificant compared to Cipher Pol members, she was still prepared to do everything within her power to assist them. Taking a small liberty, she gathered her confidence and spoke up once more.
"I’ll be ready to fully cooperate should you ever need me, ma’am."
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Post by Emma T. Baskerville on Nov 19, 2012 23:12:28 GMT -6
"Excellent!" the Cipher Pol agent murmured, flexing her fingers as she stood up, reaching a gloved hand out to shake the Petty Officer's hand. "I am really quite delighted to have you on board, as it were. I think you'll find that we-"
The lights flickered.
Then the entire building shook, as if wracked by explosions. Grabbing onto one of the walls, the Agent snarled, visage transformed. She could smell blood - and not just a little bit. It took effort to keep her demonic heritage down, but she managed, squeezing her eyes shut and counting to three. After a moment's worth of pause she opened her eyes.
The lights were out, and underneath the door, dust was starting to billow inside, as if something alive.
Cursing, the Cipher Pol agent, grabbed the Den Den Mushi that was inside the room. "Report! What is going on?" she roared into the receiver, barely able to suppress her growing bloodlust. People out there were dying, and the Hellhound within really wanted to help the process along.
She clamped down on the instinct, annoyed.
The Den Den Mushi looked up at her mournfully, only able to emit the usual dial tone. Glancing at the encroaching layer of dust, the Cipher Pol agent made up her mind.
"It appears our collaboration will have to occur much more quickly than either of us had anticipated," she told the Petty Officer. "Come with me, we're under attack."
Without even pausing, she marched up to the door, tore it straight off its hinges and walked into the billowing dust.
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Post by Victoria Locke on Nov 20, 2012 23:28:48 GMT -6
In all honesty, Victoria was quietly pleased to see that this little meeting went better than she had expected. She felt proud that her superior saw her as an asset rather than a risk. However, fate decided that the good feeling couldn’t last. As the lights flickered and building shook, Victoria’s eyes instantly narrowed and she reached towards her revolver, only to remember that it wasn’t holstered near her hip anymore. Drat. To fight the nervousness of being unarmed, Victoria focused fully on her superior. Unfortunately, the sudden snarl only made it worse. The darkness must’ve been playing tricks on her eyes, because for a moment the blonde woman seemed almost... demonic. What on earth was going on?
The Agent’s reaction and the empty response from the Den Den Mushi stabbed even deeper into Victoria’s shivering heart. Something very serious was going on. Luckily, her superior was far better composed. As expected, she already knew the course of action and the Marine was happy to oblige. Victoria straightened her back, saluted once more and nodded firmly. "Yes, ma’am!" She stepped towards the door, ready to offer support, but something stopped her on her tracks. The Agent demonstrated a part of how she had earned her rank. Right then and there, the previously so refined and sleek woman suddenly ripped the sturdy door aside like it was made of paper.
Victoria was absolutely stunned.
Finally, the lowly Marine was starting to realize there was a good reason she felt so nervous around that woman. She had heard Government Agents weren’t ordinary humans, but to think they were this powerful... Shaking herself from the daze, Victoria hurried out of the room, but not quite deep into the dust yet. She had to find something important first. Luckily, her equipment left on the other side of the door was still intact. She quickly slipped her revolver to the lonely holster hanging from her belt, slung the gray messenger bag to her side and grabbed her trusty shotgun before rushing after the woman. Her trigger finger was itching already. Someone was going to regret attacking this base.
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