sahnin

[sahnin]

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.

[sahnin]

The Hour is Late.

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.

[sahnin]

“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.” -Wendell Berry

The apartment is larger than a box, but only just barely. There is a small area for living space, complete...

[sahnin]

Notice:

All references to Jae's budding alcoholism will be slowly removed.  Some posts may remain for posterity, but this aspect of his character is hereby retconned.  

[sahnin]

Operas and Shotguns.

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.  

[sahnin]

Haze.

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..."

[sahnin]

Reblogging here because reasons. Also whoa. 

70k credits character commissions! (Ebon Hawk only)

This one is for Sahnin, Lord of Bunnies of Agent Doctor.

[sahnin]

Opera and Operations.

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.

[sahnin]

Duly noted.

Darth Tholgeth's research is complete.  Uploading it to a datapad now to give him

Darth Setekh has agreed to remove the chip from my brother, essentially freeing both of us.

Why am I getting pressure from several directions regarding Miss Genna?

Darth Setekh also sent me that holo of ... 

I think it's time to get more sleep.

Tomorrow.

[sahnin]

I remember now.

"I remember now. I remember how it started.  I can't remember yesterday... I just remember doing what they told me..." -Nikki, Operation Mindcrime  

SWTORwrites Prompt#10: Family.

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."

"No, Aris-"

"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..."

[sahnin]

Lord Tholgeth's ghastly research is nearly complete, and not a moment too soon.  I never relish these assignments, though I do them dutifully because I am told to.  He seemed rather pleased with the Spider Project data, which is a relief.  Our initial failures were all do to the alloy we were using to access the brain.  Once that was corrected, testing proceeded flawlessly.   

Of course, the 'Leeches' project is in the same vein, but much more dreadful.  Most of the subjects reacted as predicted. However, the trandoshan managed to resist it well enough to break free from his restraints and begin tearing apart the control room.  I had to leave a party in order to return and put a stop to the situation, which thankfully by the time I got there the trandoshan had knocked itself out by tearing open a canister of gas.  

No one was killed, thankfully, and one of the assistants somehow twisted her ankle escaping from the control room.  This was the only injury.   We cordoned it off until the Leech finally exploded and called in the clean up crew.

There's always at least one anomaly.  No time to dissect what went wrong, Darth Tholgeth is expecting a report tomorrow.  I'll have to include a footnote that we need to test the Leech further on alien species such as the trandoshan.

Today was Gennavie's birthday.  She turned eighteen, and held a small gathering at one of the casinos on Nar Shaddaa.  I've met with her a few times previously, and last I heard she was attempting to join the medical program.  I felt it only right I bring a gift, and she seemed pleased with it.  It's a bit technical for someone at her rank, but eventually it'll be useful to her.

It wasn't a bad gathering, several faces I knew and a few I did not, which meant new contacts.  Not a bad thing at all, plus the birthday girl seemed happy I was there.

That brings to the forefront several issues for the evening.  Setekh, of course, had to be there.  That Sith still gives me the creeps when he is near, and he loves reminding me of-- ah, yes, holovids.  I should contact Darth Achai and see if he knows about this.  Most likely he does, and he does not care.  Probably I shouldn't either.  It's only giving Setekh fuel to continue harassing me.  

Of course, no matter what is said or done, he still has control over my brother.  Rhease doesn't know about it, I'm sure.  And this Setekh uses like a noose around my neck, tightening it occasionally to remind me how he owns me.  Until I can figure out how to free my brother.  

Issue two would be that apparently Gennavie has a crush on me.  I cannot fathom -why- anyone would have a crush on me, but Ixor'semo assures me that this is the case.  I work long hours, I'm always on call, and I have to placate several Darths who do not like to be told no, or informed their projects have failed.  

Strangely enough, Ixor seemed to encourage it.  Age becomes meaningless, considering she doesn't give a damn I'm nearly ten years her senior.  Or that she's legal on Nar Shaddaa.  (Honestly, I don't think there -is- any age limits on consent on any Hutt planets.)  

I don't even want to -think- about what kind of sick ideas Setekh would come up with if he knew.  The very idea of it makes me shudder, and steer clear of relationships all together.  

She's also very young, and somehow I don't think she'd be very happy with me.  She'd be better off finding a young man closer to her own age.  Or, simply taking some time to figure herself out first, gain more confidence in herself.  On that level, I'd be happy to assist her.  

And why do I read back over this and think I'm trying too hard to convince myself?

[sahnin]

Log Entry.

I can't even begin to describe what has happened to me over the last few months.  Suffice to say, I'm not entirely convinced anything happened at all.  

And I think perhaps it is better for me psychologically to believe all of it was some sort of bad dream.

I am back at the Division full time, now, and have two students under my supervision for the time being.  They are both rather young, entering the military's medical program.  Not even graduated yet from the Academy, though due to later this cycle. I'm amazed at how young the recruits are, but I shouldn't be.  With tensions being what they are and skirmishes igniting across the galaxy, it's clear the Empire needs to bolster its military numbers.  

There's a young woman who isn't even eighteen yet (though she claims her birthday is soon) who admitted she's been recruited into Intelligence.  And quite possibly I may run into her again if she passes the basic requirements for medical training.  

Somehow I feel as if I'm getting old, though I'm not really sure if I -am- or if someone's been playing with my head again to convince me another two years have gone by when they really haven't.

I think.  When I shouldn't. 

[sahnin]

Log Entry.

It is actually rather nice to be back at Division headquarters again.  I have quite a bit of work piled up for me, but at least here I am in my element.  This mixup regarding my identity hasn't quite been resolved, and I am uncertain of Lord Setekh's (Darth Setekh now?) fate at the moment.  

For now, however, I am myself again and people here know me.  Darth Tholgeth has several prototypes of implants to test and we've begun trial runs on animals native to Dromund Kaas.  While I'm not looking forward to sentient species testing, it's at least good to no longer be out in the field, so to speak.

I've been falling into old habits on the Fleet.  I hear a snippet of conversation and maneuver in closer to catch more of it.  I meet with people and after brief, polite greetings, fall back to watch interactions and commit them to memory.  And store all of this information on a datapad, sending a copy to Darth Arannek, and a copy to Lord Ixor'semo.  

Such as the strange confrontation I witnessed down in the spaceship hangars.  Imagine my surprise to hear a Sith Lord grill his apprentice about his supposed asexuality.  I felt sorry for the apprentice. As soon as he departed, the Sith Lord proceeded to harangue anyone passing by, especially women.  So I activated my stealth generator and meandered in another direction to avoid contact.

[sahnin]

The Necklace.

Some people might recognize this.  But, I'm having trouble figuring out what to write about Jaesen, lately. So I'm going down this road.  *kickstarts the brain*

SWTORWrites Prompt 8 - Weapons: The Mind.

****************

He searched for it when he finally got back home. The little pendant they'd discovered in at a battleground while divvying up the loot and passing it around. Nothing noteworthy, really, just a necklace looted off the body of a Republic trooper. Jaesen kept it as a reminder, that once these men and women were breathing flesh and blood. People who died serving their cause as fervently as they defended the Empire.

When he returned to Division Headquarters, he looked for it among his things. He never found it, thinking perhaps he had lost it along the way. It felt alien not to have it on, a piece of his past suddenly missing.

On board a small, fast courier ship, Ghost sat beneath a lamp and studied the pendant in his palm. He remembered how it sat and glistened in the hollow of the agent's collarbone. How tempting it had been to reach over and twine his fingers through the sterling metal and pull him in for a kiss. 

He rubbed it between forefinger and thumb, as if it were a worry stone. As if merely by staring at the shiny gemstone surface he could force its most recent owner to bend to his will, to give up his new keyword. In a fit of pique, he closed his hand around it and crushed the stone, feeling it crack under the force of his palm and fingers. 

Somewhere across the galaxy, Jaesen suddenly dropped to his knees, clutching at his throat, as if someone had just grabbed him there and squeezed so tight he lost his breath.

[sahnin]

Ghost.

You were way out of line Went and turned it all around on me again How can I not smell your lie Through the smoke and arrogance? -The Undertaker, Puscifer Ghost. He referred to himself as merely an apparition. Travelled along the holonet connections as silent as a wraith, untraceable and gone like a wisp of smoke the moment someone thought they had a hold of him. Then reappeared at the most inopportune moments to leave tantalizing hints wherever the good doctor could find them.  Jaesen woke from a dream, a nightmare really. That somehow Ghost had figured out his new password and overrode his programming to make him a slave again. Calling him Cipher, whispering in his ear the things he wanted him to do. It wasn't until he had a few cups of coffee in him that the vague feeling of unease finally faded. He had medical reports to go over, sign off on. Division members were largely healthy, and no new crises or injuries to check in on. In fact, this position was enviable as far as his Fixer colleagues at Intelligence were concerned.  Now if only he could get this Ghost off his tail.  Clicking on a few panels, he signed off on everything and closed the program after encrypting it to be sent back to Division Headquarters. He could hear the crew stirring from their bunks, and soon the Sith Lord, Setekh, would be calling on him. Still so much to do yet on Corellia, and the training exercise gone completely awry had to be finished. Then maybe, just maybe, he could finally return to the quiet life of a Fixer at the Special Research Division. Something bleeped at the base of his computer screen. Jaesen frowned at it, then tapped the space to find out what the matter was. Words suddenly filled his screen, large, bolded, angry words for him. DON'T THINK YOU'VE GOTTEN RID OF ME YET, CIPHER. I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE UP TO. MY EMPLOYERS KNOW WHAT YOU ARE UP TO. YOU WERE MINE ONCE, AND YOU WILL BE MINE AGAIN.  And then everything crashed completely, sound buzzing before a zap jolted the machinery and the screen winked off.

[sahnin]

The Agent and the Sith.

[sahnin]

Scream.

Morpheus!  How could you leave me  when I had need of your love? 'Overdose' - Hurt

In the aftermath, he felt nothing.  The medical droid welcomed him back to the world of the living, that he had been declared officially dead for all of thirty seconds.  But they had revived him.   Vaguely he remembered the contempt in the Sith's quiet voice, the mask staring at him from above when he woke up long enough to open his eyes once.

People looked at him oddly after that.  Keeper stared at him with a long silence when he returned to duty.  His Watcher had such sympathy on her face.  Even Aristan treated him differently.  Never could Jaesen remember a time that his brother touched him gently before then.  Even embraced him, as if he had thought he'd lost his little brother.  

At night his dreams were absent.  He returned to his quarters in Dromund Kaas and slept without a problem.  The weeks passed and he performed his duties with the same competence as before.  Eventually everyone collectively shrugged their shoulders and stopped watching him as if he might explode at any moment.

It took the desert sands of Tatooine to remind him.  To bring forth the memories his mind trapped deep within and unleash the consequences of his actions.  The heat rose in the distance, playing tricks on one's vision.  Mirages that shaped themselves into lightning.  Into the vision of that mask staring down at him just before the needle came into view.  

Jaesen never wanted to remember, but once the torrent of memories returned, he couldn't turn off the spigot.   And that was when the cantina found him to be a regular.   A few good drinks did the trick for forgetting.  Everything.