0x099CAB---File---

Name: Maire Doiteain
HID#: 1098-54819-09
Astral Forces #: 9713-219986
Birthplace: Ythil Villas, Bothislia
Date of Birth: 291 Sunreach 29
Eyes: Green
Hair: Red
Height: 1.9m
Weight: 64kg
House Allegiance: Solune Primus
Induction: 310 Shadow 8
Active Since: 310 Darkstorm 27
Separation: [blank]
Rank: Master (Adviser, Special Intelligence)
Specialty: Telepath
Training: Grade 1 Astral; Grade 2 Technical; Rank 4 Special Intelligence; Basic,
Qualifications: Master of Special Intelligence, Security Clearance Priority 4, [Classified], [Classified], [Classified] Marksman score 150, Technical score 378, Piloting Score N/A [see attached file]
Battles and Campaigns: [Classified]
Decorations and Citations: Mental Fortitude Citation, Graduated from Prometheus II Academy, Office of Special Intelligence Recognition Award
Previous Assignment: INS-Shackleton Special Adviser
Current Assignment: Prometheus II, Office of Special Intelligence, Division 2
Status: Active

---File---0x647C27F
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:02, Fri 25 July 2014.

[Getting all the personnel files done and we'll start on the narrative.]

"So, Aunt, I wanted to ask for help...," the voice coming from behind Maire said, "and you were the only I could turn to with the pull to..." Maire glanced behind her at her niece and sighed.

"Esmer, you're a psychic, just like me. I went through the same classes you are, and will go through. I will not tell the instructors to go easy on you. That's beyond my position, as well as being immensely rude and showing favoritism." Maire shook her head. "I know it's hard. It's always going to be. But it needs to be hard for you to learn what you need, so deal with it. Now, I have other things I need to do. That I needed to do an hour ago. I'll check on you later."

Esmer just stood and left, and as soon as the door closed behind her, Maire put her head in her hands and just sat there for a moment. She could feel a headache coming on, and it wasn't even lunch time. She was tired, but she could't take a break. Not now.

She was happy she had a room to herself, however. It wasn't large, but it had a desk and a chair, and that's all she really needed. The computer sitting on the corner was sleeping, but Maire only had to glance at the red number on the side to know she had messages. There was a pile of paper on the opposite side that she had to fill out and send off to the gods knew where. There was a steaming cup of tea in her hand though, so everything, until the tea was gone, would be just fine and dandy.

The tea lasted a dreadfully short time.
-
Maire found herself wishing to be anywhere but here. Her paperwork was done. Everything she'd been assigned for the day was finished, and she now had time to herself.

She would, of course, if it wasn't the next day and another pile of paperwork was sitting on her desk. She'd asked to be transferred to an assignment that actually fit the fact that she was active, but she'd been shooed away and nothing had happened. That was almost a year ago. She had, at least, gotten more of a grip on her capabilities. She was actually in contact with 3 others spread across the entire system right now, keeping an eye on everything that went on through them. She also had a contact with the director of her division, so she could report directly to him in an emergency.

She interrogated some folks every now and again on suspicion of being terrorists or traitors or both. She translated when and where it was needed. All in all, she really was a useful member of the teams here. She was proud of the work she accomplished in keeping this system more informed and slightly safer, but she, as she'd been telling her superiors time after time, could do far more on the front lines. She'd wanted to come here to seek more knowledge on her gifts from the instructors, and she had that, so now she wanted to go back out and do something more noticeable.

"Patience is more important than desire." She said, reminding herself for the hundredth time.

Patience was so boring.

A transmission comes up in your personal quarters early in the morning, as you are about to leave. Somewhere, an override is tripped and it bypasses local handshake requirements, directly displaying on your holocomm. The image a bust of a man in his 40s, dour face, the kind of scowl that is born on a man, rather than put there. His hair is cut in a traditional military style and you can tell he is wearing a business suit. Everything about him is generic, without any distinguishing marks or features. You'd be hard pressed to describe him to anyone else without visual aids.


"Miss Doiteain. My apologies for calling you so early in the morning." He pauses, but his face betrays no sign of apology or any emotion at all.
"Forgive my brevity, but time is not a luxury we can afford. We need to have a chat."

His holoimage flickers as he waits for you to respond.

In reply to Mr. Grim (msg # 4):

Maire blinked and quickly blocked outgoing information from her mental links, sending a short message to her eyes and ears throughout the system before. "Nothing to worry about. I'll get back to you in a bit." She turned to the transmission and inclined her head. "It's hardly a disturbance, sir. What do you need?" She finished putting her hair up in a bun, and stuck two pins through it. "Unless you want to have this conversation in person. In which case, where do we meet?"

"Miss Doiteain, I must decline your offer. I am not in the habit of meeting with psychics face to face, especially telepaths. It's nothing personal, you understand. Operational Security  expressly forbids me that imprecation."

"Secured comm channels will do fine. Tightbeam when possible, fractal encryption when not."

He purses his lips, and on his already sour face it appears exaggerated.

"I'll cut to the chase, Miss Doiteain. We have mole in the Hegemony. Someone has started feeding critical data to the Unified Brotherhood. They know far too much about our schedules, deployments, defenses. We believe someone either in the OSI or Fleet has been flipped and is working for the other side. We need you to track them down and capture them so we can plug the leak and maintain control of the situation."

"As you might expect, right now, we don't know how far this thing goes, so we'll have to keep the operation quiet as much as possible and bring in outsiders. We can't risk tipping off the mole if they're here at OSI. Outsiders means House Specialists and that means Shivari operatives. I'm well aware of your mission report in the Morill system so I imagine you'll have some reservations regarding that."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:01, Tue 26 May 2015.

In reply to Mr. Grim (msg # 6):

"I'm already in contact with 3 operatives in the system, as I'm sure you're aware. I'll have to include them in my actions if I'm to keep up with my regular duties as well as this mole-hunt." Maire glanced at her watch. "Either way, I'll do some digging. Discreetly. Do you want me to report to you as soon as I find anything? Or will you call me?"

"You won't hear from me again. I'm sending the operative to handle the mission. Expect her tomorrow. Grim, out."

The holo-image fizzles and winks out.

In reply to Mr. Grim (msg # 8):

Maire raised her eyebrows but shrugged her shoulders and unblocked her links. "Good news folks. We get to add a more exciting job to our lists." She rolled her shoulders and left her rooms, quickly making it to her office and sealing the door, taking a seat at her desk. Her computer lit up, but she kept her focus on those on the other side of the links. Kith was her contact with any underground networks, but the others were perfectly capable of helping her from their positions as well. She closed her eyes and quickly sorted through what little information she had before sending it to the three of them, keeping everything out of the link to her director. She didn't work for him, just underneath him. Benefits of the job. "And be discreet when you ask questions." She added. "We don't want to spoil the surprise to our mole that we're looking." She sat back for a moment and sighed, glancing at the paperwork on the side of her desk. "Time for work boys and girls."

It is the end of the day when your informants have something for you. Connection is maintained of course, nominally, but they are clearly at work to gather information.

The sun is going down on the artificial station. During the sleep cycle, the shutters close and the electrostatic glass darkens. Internal lighting is dimmed or reduced to allow for typical sleep cycles. Most starships and space stations follow the 24 hour Indari military schedule. 8 hours of sleep followed by 8 hours of work and 8 hours of leisure time. It can take some getting used to for offworlders, but it begins to make sense. And for those who can't adjust naturally, there are drugs, hypnotherapy sessions, implants, all paid for by the Hegemony government.

Silvin and Juint report in at the appointed time. Nothing from the upper crust or the news media, as expected. You do pick up a couple unrelated things: Lord Achame is divorcing his wife. The Tyrell Corporation is going to announce a new product next week and stock prices are expected to skyrocket. A popular cruise line lost a ship near Tantalus II yesterday.

Of more interest, you find out from Juint that Nergal has been attacked and occupied by the United Brotherhood, but this information is being kept from the public for now. They expect to go public in a matter of days.A

Kith finally checks in, hours late. Even over the telepathic link he sounds excited and afraid.

"I got him! I got him! You need to come here, now!"

OOC: Kith rolled a perfect roll. Double 6s plus his bonus.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:50, Wed 06 Aug 2014.

Maire was up instantly, the reports she'd been about to fall asleep on forgotten as she dashed around her desk and out into the hall. "Where?" She asked aloud, forgetting she was mentally linked. She repeated the question in her head to Kith as she headed for her quarters to grab a few things. "I'll get there as soon as I can. Do you need any assistance? I can send others to secure your position before I get there." She was in and out of her room in moments, grabbing a pack she had sitting right by the door, and heading for a shuttle. She applauded her luck, and sent a few praises along her link to Kith. One day. She had not expected it to be that easy...

"Listening post Theta-Seven. Edge of the system. You can get here in 6 hours if you hurry. Silvin and Juint, we'll need their help as well."

There's a private transport you can book with a good pilot. With some course trimming he can get you there in 6 hours or less. You'll have to leave immediately.

You are ferried out to Theta-Seven without so much as a question, perks of working with OSI, you suppose.

http://i39.tinypic.com/11bj9cl.png


The facility is discreet, one of a number of asteroid bases around the edge of the system built into the Rekaran Belt. Primarily intended to send and receive FTL message pods or pick up broadcasts from courier vessels. Some of them are staffed with one or more Telepaths, linked to the central world, allowing for faster than light communication within system. Very useful as an early warning system or to transmit critical information rapidly from point to point.

Your three contacts are such individuals, parsing all incoming data from outsystem, decrypting and transmitting important information to you for review when relevant. They also handle their own jobs as analysts for the OSI.

Each station has only a handful of crew and usually only one ship and a slew of FTL messenger pods. A courier vessel needs only to arrive at the Listening Post, burst its data, refuel if necessary and then spike out again.

You float off the ship, artificial gravity on intrasystem shuttles and small stations being considered unnecessary. Once through the airlock and decontamination you enter the primary corridor of the asteroid base. No one appears to be present.

Maire stood perfectly still for a moment before heading down the corridor. Null-grav was fun, but even in her tight bun, her hair was starting to slip out. Annoying, but not something she needed to work with. "I'm here. The other 2 should be on their way as we speak. Where are you?"

"Maire. You're here. Good. I'm in storage room B." You get an image of a blue line down a stark white passage, taking a few turns before passing through a bulkhead door and taking a left into a room marked 'Storage Room B' in large blocky letters. You see a flash of Kith's bright blue eyes. "Hurry up, we need to get him talking."

The station is cold, heating elements being used only occasionally and without gravity or fresh air, it's a surreal and clinically sterile place. You float down the access tunnels, following your mind's eye until you reach the storage room and step inside.

Waiting for you, as expected, Kith is floating in the corner with a mag pistol trained on a lanky dark haired man with grey eyes who has been hastily fastened to a stack of cargo with omnipaste ribbons. The man looks angry and he glares at you as you float through the hatch.

"Should we... wait for the others?" Images of Silvin and Juint appear in the link for a split second.

"Not necessary." Maire said, gesturing around her. "In fact, it's better that they're not here yet." She took another look at the man, and blinked. "Silvin, Juint. Don't enter the station without my permission when you get here. If I sever contact with you, leave, immediately, and inform admin that I've been compromised." Maire smiled nefariously and floated closer to the man. "Let's see what's going on in that head of yours, my fine gentleman."

Your mind's eye widens and you peer into the mental space of the bound prisoner. His "Space" as your professors used to call it at the Academy is manifested as an old-style wooden house, like the kind you've seen in history books.

As you approach the front door, a hedge springs up around the property, cutting you off from the path.

He's blocking you out.

Kith looks at you with a concerned expression as you concentrate, keeping his pistol trained on the captive.

The mysterious man glares at you with a smug look of accomplishment.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:42, Tue 14 July 2015.

In reply to The Void (msg # 16):

Maire quirked an eyebrow and shrugged, a smile slowly tugging at her lips. In the lighting where she happened to be standing, it made her look particularly cruel, with her hair floating loosely behind her head and glowing in the bright fluorescent lighting. "If you think you've won, you've really only made it worse for yourself." She said quietly, gesturing at Kith. "See, we have this... order of conduct. While we're required to attempt Telepathy first, if we fail, we are... qualified to use more extreme methods. In fact, I'm allowed to do anything short of killing you. How does castration sound? Having your hands removed? Maybe your feet too... Or, all of those things!" She said, Tilting her head as if she was actually considering those things. "Shoot him in the leg, and aim for the bone. Try to avoid the arteries though." She looked at the man and her grin grew slightly wider. "At the very worst, we can simply torture you for the next 24 hours, and then I can try again." She waved her hand at Kyth. "In fact, shoot his kneecap. I know how difficult that kind of thing can be to get repaired properly. And expensive... he'll never walk quite right again, that's for sure. Unless, that is... there happens to be a psychic nearby skilled in healing! If it's given time to repair naturally, it won't ever be quite the same, but if, say, someone like me happened to decide that a little help goes a long way for such a... miserable condition, perhaps in return for some information, then you may just return to whatever hell-hole you crawled out of as proud a man as you are right now."

Maire floated back and gestured at the man, speaking to Kith. "Give him 5 seconds to try to respond. If he doesn't respond within that time, shoot him. Exactly where I said. You're probably not comfortable with this, but it's necessary. Play on that uncomfortableness though. Make it apparent. Look at me like you're scared of me. Lets give this man an image of me that isn't real. You would be surprised what conversation monsters can inspire."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:57, Mon 01 June 2015.

Kith really did look uncomfortable with this, but he swallows visibly and looks back at the captive. To his credit, he only waits seven seconds before firing. It's a clean shot, as far as you can tell it didn't hit the artery and instead, the mag-driven spike ripped clean through his knee, splintering bone and muscle and actually pinning it to the crate behind it.

The captive howls in agony and actually vomits up what's left of his breakfast. The cargo hold is now filled with floating globes of blood, puke and little pieces of gory bone and tissue.

Kith looks concerned at something on his arm-band.

His voice pops into your head over the squealing of the prisoner "Ma'am? Someone else just docked..."

Maire frowned. "Is that so strange?" She asked. "This is an outpost, after all." She tilted her head to the side. "And aren't there supposed to be more people here?"  She said, casting a curious gaze back at the closed door. "I didn't see anyone when I came in. Unless they don't greet guests they know about, I suppose..." She shook her head, and sent a great deal of sympathy through the link, casting a pointed glance at the man. "I don't like this any more than you do." She said, even as she idly brushed a few globules of bodily fluid away from her body. "But I take my job very seriously, and it was necessary. Don't worry, I intended to fix him up whether or not he told us anything. At the very worst, we can see what the operative we're being sent can do about getting him to talk. My job was technically only to find him anyways, not interrogate him, but there may be others that he directly reports to, and that's useful information." Maire frowned and turned her attention aside. "Give me a moment." Her eyes didn't close, but they lost focus for a second.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:52, Wed 03 June 2015.

"Well, there's only a few crew members aboard at any one time and our next scheduled arrival isn't for another week..."

Kith seems to agree with you, steeling his resolve as he eyes the whimpering prisoner distastefully, but keeps his weapon trained on him. It occurs to you that his mag-pistol has a habit of over-penetrating even dense materials and firing it anywhere near the outer habitation passageways could potentially put a hole through the bulkhead and decompress the entire compartment.

You drop your consciousness into the Future-Past state and explore a brief way into a possible future. Nothing distressing. You can continue to interrogate this man without any danger to yourself, as far as you can foresee. You sense no other feeling of any more immediate danger to yourself.

He taps at his arm-display irritatedly and then his eyes widen. You can feel his fear like a creeping cold in your mind as he tenses up.

"Mistress, the camera network was just disabled... I can't see who's coming aboard."

In reply to The Void (msg # 20):

Maire frowned. "Definitely not Silvin and Juint." She said. She reached into her bag and pulled out her pistol, gesturing at the door. "Where's the... command center? Bridge? Something that controls the systems here." She stared at her gun and shook her head. "Or even better, Environmental suits? At least a breather. If we end up needing to use these things in defense, I doubt that the walls are going to be particularly happy with us." She tilted her head to the side and unblocked the link with her director, sending a quick message over. "There's been access to Listening post theta seven that, as far as I'm aware, is unauthorized. Cameras have been shut down so we have no visual. Be on alert, but don't send any troops unless I lose contact with you. I'll see about taking care of it myself." She glanced at the screaming man and sighed, floating up quickly. She brushed her hand down his arm and healed him quickly, turning around and floating out of the room. "See if you can gag him or something." She said, before carefully shutting the door. "I'll go greet our unexpected guests."

She floated cautiously down the hallways, keeping herself as hidden as she could manage, glancing around corners before heading down the corridors.

With a glance and a thought, you simply repaired the damage of the prisoner. Flesh re-knitted itself, bone grew purposefully and skin covered the re-constructed knee flawlessly, leaving only the torn and bloody jumpsuit leg sleeve and bits of gore floating about to speak to what happened only minutes ago.

He ceases whimpering and thankfully slumps forward, eyes closed, almost as if he is a asleep. The sudden cessation of pain and injury tends to have that effect on the wounded, especially when their adrenaline spike suddenly wears off.

Silvin comes through you mind clearly "I'm checking, but I don't see any record of transit to that outpost. Whatever it is, it's not on the books."

Juint concurs and advises you to maintain regular contact.


"What the Hel is it? A foothold situation?? The brotherhood couldn't have gotten this far without anyone knowing.... right?!" You have to remind yourself that the others aren't combat veterans and are quite a bit greener than you are.

However, to his credit he flashes you a series of images which give you the directions to the central control room.

Maire shook her head. "This is a terrible position to try and set up a foothold." She said as she floated gently into the command center, scanning the room quickly. "For one, it would be known immediately that something was wrong. It's already known, in fact. I just reported the disturbance to my Director. And for two, there's no strategic advantage to this place. Or real disadvantage, either. All it is is a listening post. There are no defenses, no extra resources. It would take more effort to store people on this station then it would to keep them on a ship." It took her a moment to identify a security console, but she found it and floated over as quickly as she could, scanning it. She honestly had no idea how to use the console. She was better at repairing things like these then she was at manipulating their controls. She looked it over briefly, but after trying to catalogue what everything did and failing at almost all of it, she shook her head and sighed. "It appears that identifying security consoles appears to be the limit of my capability in using them." She said, mentally shrugging her shoulders. "Nothing's going off with my foretelling, so I'm going to go and investigate this myself." She kept a steady link with all three of her companions, and slipped back out into the hallway, heading for the docking port.

It doesn't take long to reach the docking port. You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of your link behind As you round the corner and set your eyes on the visitor...

"You should know, if you attempt to access my mind,"  He taps his temple with a long tapered finger "I am authorized to execute you immediately. Nothing personal. Shivari code." He speaks in what seems to be an almost intentionally mechanical way, like reading from a script.

Like a ghost, he floats there by the airlock. An armored body-sleeve covers him from the neck down and his skana rests at his hip. Strapped to his opposite thigh is a handgun of some variety, but you don't recognize it. He looks at ease and cocks his head as he waits for you to collect yourself and respond.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:22, Sun 14 June 2015.