[ISBI] Meltdown

[Ethan Tahmores]

ISB Central Office, Imperial Center

Ethan stood, hands clasped behind his back as he stared out at the cityscape spread out before him. Coruscant, or Imperial Center, or whatever else the bureaucrats and politicians had decided to call it this week, rumbled on without hesitation as the civilians and citizens of the Galactic Empire went about their daily lives. While ordinarily he would have loathed the notion of standing idly, engaging in such an apparent waste of potentially valuable time, there were occasions when he felt it was important to reconnect with the world outside the walls of the Imperial Security Bureau. Too many of his people lost sight and touch with who and what they were working to protect; they became so obsessed with rooting out the insidious evil that pervaded their line of work that they forgot their mandate - to protect and serve - and began to see threats lurking around every shoulder; jumping at shadows.

With effort, Colonel Tahmores peeled his eyes away, and turned back into the room where a woman clad in the unflattering off-white of ISB's official uniform stood patiently waiting. Tahmores himself avoided the things at every opportunity; currently, he was sporting the same plain black that he'd worn back as a Stormtrooper, as he generally did ever since he'd politely informed the Security Bureau's Director of Investigations that "The only way you're getting me to wear anything that colour again is if it's made of duraplast and shaped like Stormtrooper armour."

Speaking of the Director; he turned towards the desk of the man who had kindly loaned him the office while he was out having 'buffet and drinks' with some high-flying political types, and glanced briefly at the open file, reproduced on several sheets of flimsy so he could avoid the abhorrant data terminal mounted to his desk. Ordinarily, he would have loathed being here, trapped within the confines of the overly-grand and stuffy office, but there were some conversations that just weren't appropriate for the open-plan workspace where Tahmores and his team usually spent their day. This was one of those occasions.

"So," he said eventually, eyes lingering on the report for a moment longer before clambering their way up to meet with the woman's gaze. "I see you've put in a request to transfer from Surveillance to Investigations, and become a Field-certified Agent." Despite the complete lack of aggression or malace in his expression or posture, his eyes were piercing as lasers. "Why is that, Miss Jansen?"

[Elizabeth Jansen]

Eliza was nervous and that meant she was giddy which meant she probably looked like she had drank a wee bit too much caff that morning, but it was okay. Well, she hoped it was.

"Well, I just really was looking for a change."

A change... right-o. Everyone who had ever run in to Miss Eliza Jansen knew she felling LOVED her lab and the droids she had worked with but an opportunity had opened elsewhere and well, when it knocked she was ready to go! At least, she hoped so.

"Surveillance is just so technical, and I figured being a field agent would allow for more challenging work. A girl gets bored being stuck in the same old, same old for too long. You get stale and that means you get sloppy and no one can afford any sloppy work around here." She paused, for a half instant. "I could still do the surveillance part-time! I just... I want to prove I can do something more."

Something more? More than what, Eliza? More than staring into monitors all day and reviewing holovids to the point where your head wanted to collapse? Even if she was capable of picking out the tiny details everyone else seemed oblivious to, it just had gotten dull. Dull. Dull. DULL.

She was young though, young and smart. Real smart. Her file said that much. Young was good too, it meant she could be trained and move up in the ranks rather than be stuck in some dreary surveillance office for the rest of her career with the Security Bureau.

[Ethan Tahmores]

Ethan's eyebrows creased, not entirely sure what to make of the lightspeed response, and the unusual twitching of the Agent before him. She didn't look even remotely like the sort of person that he would have considered for a field role. Hell, if he'd been on the selection panel when she'd first been interviewed for ISB service, he probably wouln't have considered her for any role. He would have been wrong in that regard, of course: her aptitude scores refuted any preconceptions that her personality and attitude might have instilled in his mind; and Surveillance was generally thought of as a dead-end role for people who weren't up to the task of a more challenging assignment. This woman, hyperactive and over-eager as she was, showed real promise.

Her attitude can be repaired in time, he mused, running a hand over the stubble that, though beaten into submission via razor only a few hours before, was making a determined effort to reassert itself on his face. "You said one good thing in that rambling tirade, Agent Jansen," he revealled, settling his arms in a loose fold across his chest. "Getting bored does make you stale and sloppy. But this isn't a game: Investigations isn't here just to satisfy your own personal lust for excitement."

He paused for a beat, laser vision scrutinising her features for any clue to what might be hidden behind her mask of sunny optimism. "Why'd you join the Security Bureau? Why are you even here at all?"

[Elizabeth Jansen]

Eliza frowned slightly, looked down at the white shoes she detested for a moment before looking back up to Tahmores. Her mind tried to formulate answers but it wasn't turning into nothing more than gibberish.

"Well of course it isn't about excitement or a game, sir! I'd consider that just bonus points, personally. It's about getting the bad guy, about justice being done and making sure its done right. We don't mess up here, and it was that reason why I wanted to join in the first place." Her eyes diverted from his for a moment before she actually, well, shrugged.

"I've heard nothing but good things about the group you command. You don't mess up and you get the job does by whatever means possible and more to the point, yes, you do it how it should be! Anyone can solve cases or detain criminals or find truths. But they just don't care about the citizens we do it all for. I care. And I take the fact I care very seriously and I have talents and I put those talents to use."

Oh Eliza knew she was rambling, but that was who she was and if the group she wanted to transfer in to didn't like it, or couldn't stand it, they could go to hell.

"And don't think that just because I care about everyone else is enough to qualify me, oh no. We have jobs to do, sir. And every last one of us should be doing them to their best ability. If I have to stay in that small room full of computers anymore I'm not doing the best I can and that's outright abysmal, not to my own ego or anything, but to the Imperial Security Bureau itself. It doesn't do things to a level of 'good enough', it excels! Is it so wrong I wish to do the same?"

[Ethan Tahmores]

Ethan couldn't quite put his finger on the specifics of it, but there was something about Agent Jansen that was already managing to wear a soft spot into his normally gruff an calloused mindset. Her enthusiasm and optimism were infectious despite his best efforts, and while the did adorn her statements with far too many superfluous words, she certainly hit across enough valid points to satiate any niggling concerns that he might have had.

Not that it would have mattered, really. He'd already reviewed her file; and the flimsies in front of him bore the Director's signature, already making the transfer effectively official whether he approved or not. Ethan had just wanted to meet her first: fortunately she'd passed his personal review, saving him from finding out what would have transpired had she turned out to be a useless waste of uniform fabric, and had he been forced to go head-to-head with the Director on this issue.

"No, Eliza," he replied, throwing in the pet form of her forename that the psych evaluations had made note of; "There's nothing wrong with that at all."

His normally grave expression softened a little with a hint of a smile. He picked up the documents before him, and gestured with them slightly, for emphasis. "Congratulations, Miss Jansen: looks like the Director already went and approved you as a Probationary Investigations Agent, starting tomorrow morning. We brief at 0800; I expect you to be there waiting for me by the time I walk in." He waved the papers towards the outfit she was wearing. "And ditch the uniform for something more practical; whoever thought white was a good, practical colour for an active field unit was an utter moron."

[Elizabeth Jansen]

She was overcome by a sensation of giddiness. Colonel Tahmores had pretty much said everything she could have hoped for - and more! The uniform bit put it right over the top. She HATED the official whites they were supposed to wear. There was no character to them at ALL.

However, Probationary meant she had to prove to the team that she was good enough to be one of them, and prove it she would!

Eliza let out a small squeak of excitement before practically scampering over to the side of the desk and hugged Tahmores. "Thank you!!"

A sudden blush rushed to her cheeks and she let him go, her eyes widening. "I mean, yes sir! I won't disappoint you, sir!" The smile was plain on her face still, a mixture between happiness and a healthy dose of embarrassment.

The urge to hug him again was suppressed as she managed a crisp salute and ran out of the office.

[Ethan Tahmores]

A little dazed and confused by the hyperspeed events that had just transpired, Ethan found himself chuckling wordlessly to himself, shaking his head in mild disbelief. Beside her extensive list of qualifications and recommendations came Jansen's psychological profile, which described her as 'good natured, though a little eccentric an scatterbrained'. He'd have to make the effort of seeking out the man responsible for that particular understatement, and smack him up the back of the head.

With a sigh, he idly dropped himself down into the Director's chair, and hooked his feet up on the desk, fingers lacing behind his head. He may have told Eliza that this job wasn't about fun and games; but with things shaping up the way they seemed to be, life was about to get very interesting for him and his team.

"At least," he mused aloud, his faint smile not fading, "We won't get bored and sloppy."

[Soren Khapst]

Eyes narrowed as the 'lift door opened, flicking automatically to the critical points of the immediate area. Points normally covered by the barrel of a rifle on every entrance team he'd been on in his long career. The severe expression eased as he stepped out, melting to a smirk as he strode across the short walkway to the sleek, wire-suspended stairs.

Heavy boots stepped lighter than most would expect as Soren descended, shrugging out of his worn leather jacket as he did. Precisely twelve steps later, he turned and tossed it over the back of the Colonel's chair and sat on the edge of his desk. Fingers curled over the edges as he leaned forward slightly, taking in the sight of Agent Aviz and lingering perhaps longer than it should.

Soren grinned as she caught his shameless stare and dropped his gaze to examine an invisibly speck on the knee of his black cargo pants. He lifted a hand to flick it away and resettle his 'tags against the black t-shirt over his chest. "Agent Aviz...pleasure as always. How's the Colonel been treating you?" he asked, raising his gaze to meet hers.

[Vivienne Aviz]

Seated behind a well organized desk, sorting through files of flimsies for the various cases they were currently working on, Agent Viviene Aviz watched Khapst enter the room. She gave him a slight half smile as he sat himself on the Colonels' desk. Unlike the other office staff, field agents dressed in civilian clothes - Aviz herself wearing a dark sweater and slacks. It was hard not to roll her eyes at Soren as he returned his gaze to hers.

"Everything has been fine, Soren. Just waiting for him to return from a meeting with a new recruit."

[Soren Khapst]

"Ahh...good to know. I've been wondering when he'd take someone else onto the team."

Soren smiled, proffering a wink as he sat back. Fingers lifted to touch his black-bordered dog-tags, settling around them for several moments. The plasteel edging had been painted black to honor a fallen brother, a long-standing tradition in the ranks.

Eyes remained on Agent Aviz briefly, before he withdrew one of his DC-17 blasters in a practiced gesture. The laser sight mounted on the underside had been giving him issues earlier at the range, and his fingers tugged it off for inspection. Casting a critical eye towards it, he frowned, noting the slightly bent railing. That would need fixing before the next mission.

He set the blaster down and borrowed a stylus from the desktop behind him, using it to carefully bend the piece back into place.

[Ethan Tahmores]

Ethan appeared from nowhere, a hand clapping firmly up the back of Soren's head. "Get your lazy backside off my desk, Gunny," he ordered, no hint of the implied half-humour in his tone of voice, "Or I'll be interviewing candidates to replace you, as well."

Swooping around the desk in a smooth, fluid motion, his fingers plucked the stylus from Soren's fingers and returned it to the holder on his desk; fidgeting with the datapads and sheets of flimsy arrayed before him, he waited for Sergeant Khapst to kindly remove himself - and the posterior that was getting a little more padded in his old age - from the valuable filing space on his desk.

His eyes flicked up, peering over Soren's shoulder to meet with those of Agent Aviz. "She passed, by the way," he offered as a casual aside; "Starts tomorrow." His gaze flicked back to the Gunny. "Don't you have subordinates of your own that you can go and annoy?"

[Soren Khapst]

"What on earth would you do without me, Colonel?"

Soren grinned as he stood, before his expression sobered and he offered a crisp, proper salute. A flick of his wrist saw the laser sight re-attached to his weapon with a satisfactory click and no extraneous movement. Much better indeed.

He reholstered the weapon on his right leg and crossed his arms over his chest. "Normally, sir, I do have my own crew to keep in line. Got the word on the range this morning that I was to report here. Something coming down the pipe, I presume?"

[Ethan Tahmores]

Ethan had some vague recollection of barking at one of the Stormtrooper Privates on his way into the office this morning; instructions to tell Soren to get his ass in gear and come see him. When the Gunny hadn't materialised, he'd simply assumed - incorrectly, it seemed - that the Private had simply been an incompetent jackass, and hadn't done what he was told. Seemed that instead, it had been the Sergeant's lack of urgency and common sense that had been the problem. Ethan let out a silent, almost completely stealth sigh. Back when the two of them had been Stormtroopers together, he'd have chewed him out with some stock reprimand for being late; unfortunately, the Imperial Security Bureau called for a slightly more relaxed attitude than the Corps.

In truth, he'd wanted Soren here as his wingman; wanted a senior field agent on-hand to help him evaluate their new recruit. He didn't need an extra set of eyes or neurons to complete the task; but it always helped. And besides, playing a little good agent / bad agent was an entertaining enough way to begin the important task of hazing a new Probie. On that note, felt momentarily relieved for Jansen that Agent Zonnodi wasn't still around: toying with rookies and recruits was his speciality.

That faded quickly, replaced with a little of that knot of frustration at losing one of his men. Sure, it had happened back in the Corps, and far more often than it had here. But this was different; the close quarters nature of their work made the members of his team as close to him as squad mates. Losing a member of that kind of military family was always tough.

He decided to vent a little of his frustration at Soren's expense. "You assume too much, Gunny," he threw back, grasping at the trivial issue that he had intended to only mention in passing, but that was now being bumped up to public humiliation status. "The only thing coming down the pipe right now is heat from the Director about how lousy a job you're doing with filing your operation reports." He fixed Soren with a look, a smile that he quickly killed with a scowl ghosting across his face. "I don't know what they taught you with the Commandos, but proper admin proceedure sure as hell wasn't part of it."

[Soren Khapst]

"Duly noted, Colonel, it won't happen again. Will that be all, sir?"

Soren replied, his tone a bit clipped, but still within a proper range for speaking to a superior.

His inner voice had a few choice words for the Colonel, with far more zest that even he would dare use. It was no use trying to reason with Ethan when he was in this kind of mood. Soren knew it wasn't just him running late that had rubbed the man the wrong way. Something else was going on, but damned if he could figure out what that was.

Well, it didn't bear dwelling on until Tahmores was ready to vent - if and when that even happened. He shrugged into his leather jacket and offered a crisp salute.

[Ethan Tahmores]

"That'll be all," Ethan confirmed, only half paying attention. His eyes rose momentarily at the lack of movement from the Gunny, a sigh threatening to escape him as he spotted the salute. The Stormtrooper Corps was long behind them; Soren apparently hadn't yet got used to the differences over how things worked around here. He intentionally refrained from responding. "That's ISB for 'You're dismissed', Gunny."

He waited in silence for Soren to depart, finally unleashing his contained sigh. His eyes swept half-heartedly across a flimsy, before settling on Agent Aviz, lingering a few meters away. "Let me guess," he asked. "You've got nothing better to do than loiter around either?"

[Jacob Tur'enne]

Tur'enne Residence, Corellia

It had been nearly an hour since Jacob had first settled down at his desk, and begun to stare at the monitor of his computer terminal; and yet still, he hadn't managed to bring himself to complete the task at hand. Reinhart Thul had departed, off to continue the investigation into the disappearence of his son, Alexander. And while his wife trusted Reinhart implicitly - and Jacob, in turn, trusted her judgement just as much - the idea that an unofficial investigation by the family friend was the only hope for their son left him uncomfortable at best.

A conflict had arrisen inside him. Because of the nature of the facility from which their son had been plucked, the Imperials had muscled in on the investigation, superceding any involvement by the local authorities. That bureaucracy had muscled its way into the equation at all left Jacob feeling heavily uncomfortable; but worse, the Imperial Security Bureau was hardly known for its record of balanced analysis. If it was more convenient, they would take the easy option, and brand his son a traitor.

At least, most of them would.

Jacob shifted in his seat, finally reaching for the controls to his comm unit. A few years ago, he'd crossed paths with an ISB Agent whose dedication to finding the truth was as relentless as his own. Their relationship had been purely professional, and he hardly considered the man a friend: but he hoped that, presented with the situation, the Agent's own dedication to the truth, and to justice, would be enough.

His fingers rattled against the terminal keyboard:

Search Query: Tahmores, Ethan.

Subject Found: Tahmores, Ethan - Colonel. Officer Commanding: Central Tactical Unit, Imperial Security Bureau.

Compose New Message. Begin Recording.

Jacob let out a held breath as an indicator began to blink on the screen, informing him that his video message had commenced. He summoned his words carefully, mustering a tone that was far more reserved and restrained than his usual tone. "Agent Tahmores," he began, "I hope this message finds you well. Unfortunately, I have little time to spend on pleasantries: a situation has arisen here on Corellia, and I find myself in need of your help. A few days ago -"

[Ethan Tahmores]

ISB Central Office, Imperial Center

"- my son was abducted from a weapons research facility here on Corellia: a facility with security maintained by the Empire. As I'm sure is appropriate for protocol, the Security Bureau has taken over the investigation. Unfortunately, I am -" Jacob stumbled a little over his words, eyes flitting away to look at something off the edge of the screen for a moment. "- I am not fully confident that my son will not become the victim of some effort to fit an Imperial agenda. For my sanity, I need to know that someone I can trust is leading the investigation: and I know of few Imperials more trustworthy than you. Help me, Agent Tahmores. You are my only hope."

The display clicked to blackness soon after the words completed, and Ethan sat in silence. He was hardly an individual to be overwhelmed by heartfelt pleas, but having met the man - a District Attorney from Corellia - in person before, his shrewd skills at analysing people suggested just how out-of-character this sort of request was. Not to mention the fact that a father, trying to do the best for his son, was a belief he could certainly empathise with.

And besides: what was the point of being the leader of one of the Security Bureau's most prestigious Investigations units, if you didn't get to throw your weight around and pull rank from time to time?

His eyes swept around the scattered cluster of desks that surrounded him. Directly opposite sat Jansen, on only her second official day as an agent: somehow, despite them being of standard size, the way she perched in her chair made it seem far too big for her. She'll grow into it, he mused, with the slightest hint of a paternal smile.

To the right meanwhile was Aviz, busy doing something - given the determined look on her face, it was likely important. Probably something to do with another case. And between the two, completing the quadrangle that their desks drew out - behind where Soren was loitering, once again - was the vacant desk of Ethan's former lead agent: the man whose personnel file currently listed him as Missing, Presumed Lost. It had taken months for the Director to bully Ethan into recruiting Jansen as a replacement for his previous lost agent, and they'd merely been promoted to another unit. When it came to missing - well, if Ethan had anything to say about it, that desk would lie empty for quite some time.

Especially when the missing agent happened to be Mackenzie Tallen, the boy that Ethan had fostered for a few years, back on Naboo.

Mind thoroughly locked in paternal mode, he let out the briefest of sighs, before gathering his energy, and springing to his feet. His mouth snapped off instructions as he did, arms grabbing the various items he'd need - jacket, badge, blaster, bag - from where they were strategically placed for exactly this eventuality. "Aviz," he instructed, not bothering to look in her direction to be sure she was complying, "Get on the comm: I need the fastest shuttle available, prepped and ready to launch, A.S.A.P." To their newest member he added, "Agent Jansen: grab your gear. We're going to Corellia."

He didn't wait for a response, already weaving past his desk on a course for the elevator. His pace slowed ever so slightly, and his voice dropped to a low tone, muttering: "You too, Soren," as he passed.

[Elizabeth Jansen]

"Rock on!"

Of course, Eliza wasn't quite sure what all her gear would entail. This was her first assignment in the field. Best to probably take everything. Luckily she had come prepared, she was always prepared. And the large duffel bag sitting next to her desk was quickly slung over her shoulder as she caught up to Colonel Tahmores.

"You know... I've never actually been to Corellia. Funny, huh?"

[Ethan Tahmores]

Ethan's mouth opened a little to let out a laugh, but in the end most of his chuckle made a swift escape through his nose. His mind recalled some of the more memorable visits he'd had to Corellia over the course of his career, and considered the fact that regret and reluctance, rather than excitement and anticipation, were the emotions that most readily came to mind.

"You'll get over it," he replied, a brief sideways glance thrown in Jansen's direction.

Part of him almost felt a little guilty, dragging their rookie field agent out on an offworld assignment before giving her the chance to settle in to her new role. Almost, but ultimately not. He was a firm believer in the sink or swim selection process: and at the end of the day, what help was it to know that an Agent could do their job when it was convenient? If Jansen could pull through on unexpected short notice, that would go a lot further towards securing his trust in her abilities.

And besides: from the sound of things, he'd need someone with her forensic talents, and even a rookie field agent was still a few steps better than the obsessive lab geeks that were his alternative.

[Soren Khapst]

Without uttering a word, he shrugged into his jacket and settled his waiting backpack on his left shoulder. His left hand checked his pocket for his badge, before both brushed over his DC-17s in a reflexive gesture.

A single brow lofted at girl's nervous enthusiasm and for a moment it reminded him of the way his sister used to be. It pulled a brief smile to his lips and he made a mental note to call her as soon as he had a moment. The lift doors closed on the trio, and Soren finally took a moment to appraise the newest member of their team.

At least the girl was prepared, he mused, noting the duffel she'd brought along. All well and good. He just hoped she'd be steady out in the field.