All two meters of Kay are skeptical of this entire affair. He makes it abundantly clear and achieves nothing with it. A general doesn’t want to hear any of it.
    Kay looks him dead in the eye and says, “Would you like to know the probability of this boy dying? It’s high. It’s very high.”
    “Make it low then, lieutenant. He’s your trouble now, not mine,” says the general, and this phrase marks the end of the conversation. “You will get your next mission later tomorrow.”
    Because of course he is Kay’s trouble now. Because of course when the general has gone and saved the boy and brought him to the Rebellion, and raised him, and semi-trained him—of course it all meant that Cassian Andor would end up as Kay’s trouble. Somehow all little projects of general’s end up as Kay’s trouble. Kay has no idea why it keeps happening, maybe he’s being too reliable or too loyal, or he seems like someone who can take care of the kid. He can’t take care of the kid.
    The kid should never learn of it, though.
    Kay practically avoids Cassian for the best part of the day. He’s pretty sure, by the looks of it, that Cassian got the news before he did, otherwise there is no reason for him to try and subtly observe Kay. Well, subtly. The boy probably thinks he’s being subtle. Kay finds it amusing. Until in the evening he finds it annoying and confronts Cassian in a canteen by the means of sitting down across the table from him and landing a long, calm stare on the boy’s face.
    “Cassian, right? The general thinks you are my trouble now,” he says, his voice just as calm and collected, and seemingly indifferent, as his stare. “What’s the probability of you being my trouble? Fifty percent? Higher? Lower?” Kay shows the imaginary percent bar with his hands.
    He has never been good at talking with children and teenagers—or anyone, for that matter. People find him either too upfront, or too sarcastic, or lacking tact. Interestingly enough, it never caused him any trouble in his line of work.
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

Отредактировано K-2SO (28-03-2018 01:11:36)

    It’s fascinating how the kid thinks he isn’t going to be his trouble. Kay remembers what the general was saying about Cassian—that’s he’s very eager to help, he’s street-smart, he’s quick, and that he could make a good agent in a due time. That he‘s fifteen. But all of that just confirms that he is going to be Kay’s trouble. His constant, very passionate about the cause trouble. Kay has been in the Rebellion for years now, and still he can’t make his peace with dragging children into it. The more eager the kid is to help, the worse it all ends. He’s seen it happening over and over again since joining up.
    Kay drops his hands on the table and considers Cassian’s questions. He could answer them, sure, but what would be the point? It’s not the kind of information that would save Cassian’s life on a mission. It’s neither useful nor educational. The kid is smiling as if something good is happening to him. Kay doesn’t return the smile.
    “You eat, and I’ll talk,” he says, nodding at Cassian’s dinner. “I am not going to answer your questions, my answers, as well as the details of my personal life, are of no use to you. I am your lieutenant, and you are”—he searches for the right word—“my subordinate, and that’s all that should concern you. Around here you’ll address me as ‘sir’, and I’ll address you as Cassian. Out there you’ll call me by whatever name I tell you, and I am going to do the same. When I tell you to do something, you do it and don’t ask questions. If I am not there to boss you around, you use your head. In eighty percent of situations I am going to be there to boss you around. So do your best in those twenty percent when I’m not.”
    Kay talks calmly and matter-of-factly, there is no animosity in his voice despite the sharp words. The rules are really simple and easy to follow, or so they seem here, at the Rebellion base, in the safety of the canteen. The general said they would get their mission tomorrow, and it means that their field work begins all too soon for Kay to have time to teach Cassian anything truly useful in a safe environment. He will have to rely on whatever the kid knows already and the kid will have to pick up skills on the go.
    “One more thing. There is a ninety percent chance of you dying on your first mission,” Kay says, looking Cassian in the eye. “Eighty-five on your second. Ninety-five on your third. I would appreciate it if you didn’t die on your first, second or third mission. It’s not exactly a pleasant walk in a park after the third mission either, but at least you’ll stop looking like something good is happening to you.” He leans in closer to Cassian and adds, “We’re going to get briefed for our first mission tomorrow. Don’t mistake it for fun.”
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

Отредактировано K-2SO (28-03-2018 22:35:14)

    Cassian changes ever so slightly, snaps into his new role very subtly. Well, that went smoother than expected. Kay has never had any trainees before, it’s not something he does. He isn’t good with people around here, they tend to avoid him just as much as he tends to avoid them. The word most commonly used to describe him is “stiff”, but Kay knows that what it truly means is—Imperial. However, the general trusts him and so everyone else is obliged to trust him, too. Why of all people would the general pick him to train Cassian is beyond Kay. Maybe he saw something that Kay doesn’t. Some personal connection, some reason they would make good partners.
    For a short moment Kay analyses Cassian’s attitude then decides that if this is to work, he needs to establish some sort of a rapport with the kid. At least, in his limited experience in working with a partner, it usually helps. People tend to listen to the ones they like more attentively. Kay doesn’t need Cassian to like him, but he doesn’t need the kid to dislike him either.
    “Ah, he thinks,” Kay says, reclining a little bit, and the amusement is clear in his voice even though his face is still calm and indifferent. “Remarkable. Indeed, the third mission is the most dangerous because young people such as yourself become cocky.”
    Kay can’t tell at this point if Cassian is going to be one of them, the cocky, know-it-all brats who die on their fourth mission, because nobody warned them the fourth one is even worse than the third. Nobody warned Kay, and he wasn’t a kid, and he barely survived his fourth mission. If only fate was more merciful to Cassian, that would be more than enough.
    “I don’t think you are cocky, not right now anyway, but you say you know that missions are not fun yet you smile like they are. I can see your excitement, you’re like a puppy that’s gonna get walked soon,” Kay tilts his head a little bit. “You hide it well enough, if you’d like to know.”
    That’s one of the reasons people dislike casually talking to him. Kay has a habit of laying the other person bare, and he has a habit of doing it out loud, too. He never means any harm, though, and he doesn’t enjoy reading others—he does it without any second thought. He does it even before he can think about it. That’s what unsettles people.
    “Interesting,” Kay concludes. “How often have you been off the base? How much of the galaxy have you seen so far?”
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

Отредактировано K-2SO (30-03-2018 03:39:30)

    Kay does the same thing he always does, he observes and analyses. Cassian is either devoid of pride, which is unlikely, or smart enough to react calmly. Kay is fairly certain the kid is just smart and doesn’t want to cause himself any trouble by snapping or disrespecting his commanding officer. Kay nods. So it’s Fest he hears in Cassian’s accent. It’s very light, the type of accent you can’t place anywhere in the galaxy until the person tells you where they are from. The type of accent you would get if you were a kid who left their home planet a long time ago. As far as Kay knows, that’s exactly the case.
    “You don’t have to prove yourself to me,” he says. “Not on the base, anyway. But we can do a little exercise, if you’d like. The odds of you succeeding are extremely low, but you can still try. And keep trying until you succeed—maybe not today, but at some point. Hopefully, I won’t be dead by then.”
    There is one thing in which Cassian is almost right, and that thing is—if Kay can read him, then he doesn’t conceal his emotions well enough. Given that Kay is rather good at this, Cassian’s charade would probably fool an ordinary person and maybe even some soldiers but it’s unlikely to fool a trained professional. However, just like anything else, it is a skill. Lying isn’t something that people are just born with. It is practiced and trained.
    And it is essential for an intelligence officer to be able to lie just as easily and naturally as breath.
    “Fool me,” Kay says. “In any way you can.”
    He pauses, looking for a good enough incentive for Cassian to really get into it. This is a kind of exercise that has to be done regularly. What could possibly make it interesting for the kid? Make him keep trying even if he fails the first couple of dozen times?
    “If you succeed, I will answer any one of your questions. If you don’t,” Kay shrugs his shoulders with a hint of a smile on his face, “you just keep trying until you do. How about that?”
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

Отредактировано K-2SO (01-04-2018 05:25:34)

    The incentive works like a charm. Kay briefly looks at Cassian’s hand as if he is surprised at the gesture but then shakes it firmly but gently, as to not crush the kid’s youthful palm in his own broad one. The ground rules that Cassian lays for himself are reasonable. With the missions being off-limits, it is safer for both of them. As for his other questions, this is asking for an amendment.
    “An amendment,” Kay says. “I will answer any one of your personal questions. I do not plan to withhold valuable information from you. Anything you’d like to know directly related to work you may ask anytime. Just don’t get too excited, I’m not your personal Holonet search engine.”
    Cassian’s survival is just as much in Kay’s interests as it is in his own. Providing the kid with the fullest information possible is guaranteed to make his chances of living long enough to see his double-digits missions much higher. Kay moves his gaze, previously fixed on Cassian’s face, to look around the canteen. However, he seems equally disinterested in both food and people, and it is more of a gesture to punctuate the pause rather than anything else.
    “Once you receive and get acquainted with your mission briefing tomorrow, come and find me,” Kay’s eyes return to Cassian’s face. “Enjoy your evening.”
    He gets up, nodding to Cassian, and leaves, carefully shuffling out of the canteen without talking to anyone or even looking at anyone, as if people around him don’t matter. They don’t, not to him, not really—the job matters, the tasks and orders, the Empire’s inevitable fall, but not the rebels. Cassian matters only because he is the task, but even that is temporary. Whatever mission the general decides to give them, however easy and devoid of difficult choices it is, Kay mentally prepares himself for trouble.
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

    The next day the kid is like a puppy again. Kay can almost imagine him wagging his tail in excitement. He doesn’t say anything about it this time, just lifts his eyes from his datapad with a mission briefing on its screen and nods.
    “Cassian,” he acknowledges. ”At ease.”
    The mission they got is relatively safe. It doesn’t include finding or talking to sources, infiltration, slicing, or anything of the kind. The odds of Cassian surviving this one are higher than ten percent, but Kay doesn’t tell him. Firstly, the kid is better off believing he is in more danger than he truly is. Secondly, the general obviously cares for the kid in his own way, and that is exactly the way people become cocky and die. They start believing they are special. Nobody is.
    Kay gets up from his place at the canteen table leaving a cup of water behind and motions Cassian to follow him. Despite the base being a friendly territory, discussing their mission in public would be a purely moronic decision. Kay doesn’t do moronic decisions. They move away from the canteen and common spaces towards the barracks, until Kay stops and opens one of the doors.
    “Come in,” he says.
    The room—his room—is just about as ascetic as it can possibly get. But for a pair of boots next to a door and a paperback book on a table, it would be impossible to guess anybody even occupies it. The room looks lonely in its pristineness, but Kay doesn’t seem to care or even notice it. There is only one chair, and he leaves it for Cassian, sitting down on his bunk instead. It looks like the room was meant for two, at least the bunk was, but instead happened to be occupied solely by Kay.
    “So tell me, what did you understand from the briefing, and what do you know about Uquine,” he says, switching his datapad back on and fixing his calm, unblinking stare on Cassian.
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

    Cassian is quick to judge that Uquine is easy, that the cell there is sincere in its wish to join the Rebellion. Kay briefly looks down at the datapad, and it is pretty much the gist of the mission, put in a very simple, laconic way. But Cassian’s immediate judgement is the problem. Maybe Kay was preparing himself for the wrong kind of problems yesterday. Maybe it wouldn’t be as much obedience or lack of physical training, but this—quick judgements, beliefs, too much enthusiasm without any critical thinking. To put it shortly, youth.
    “There,” Kay points at him with a corner of his datapad. “You just single-handedly killed the Rebellion. Bravo. It took you exactly half the day on the job. You’re free to go, there is nothing else to do here.”
    Kay returns to his datapad. Waits.
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

    Kay doesn’t react to Cassian’s exclamation. He doesn’t react to him standing up or sitting down. He doesn’t react to his own name. He does, however, react to Cassian’s plea, but not because the kid sounds desperate and clearly upset at the turn of the events. Kay lifts up his head.
    “You’re still here,” he says. “Remarkable.”
    Kay looks at Cassian intently for a few moments before continuing, “First you exclaimed. A predictable reaction to the realization of your own mistake. Then you were trying to come up with a plan. Probably trying to decide how to wiggle out of the situation with minimum damage to your pride. Then you chose to admit your mistake. Then you chose to evaluate your actions and reflect on them. Then you informed me you thought you weren’t a lost cause.  And pleaded. I think I got everything right.”
    Nothing in Kay’s tone of voice gives away if he liked Cassian’s reaction, or Cassian himself, or dissecting Cassian’s reaction and Cassian himself. He looks just as calm and indifferent as usual, but there is something in his eyes, a little speck of interest for a moment—blink and you’ll miss it. Kay decides then and there that he likes the task. He begins to understand why the general is so fond of the kid. If anything, he didn’t give up even though he was dismissed.
    “Ah, of course,” Kay adds after a little pause. “You also didn’t give up. Catch.”
    He throws his datapad to Cassian. On it, there is a note on Uquine containing anything and everything that the Rebellion intelligence was able to gather up on the planet prior to the mission. It’s not much but it is something. The names of places and some people, short characteristics of the terrain, and short history, and even shorter note on the events there nowadays. To put it bluntly, nothing happened on Uquine since the Empire has overtaken it.
    “Next time you make a mistake, leave out the exclamation, your opinion of yourself and any type of plea you can think of. The rest was good. I would tell you not to make mistakes at all, but the odds of that are non-existent.” Kay nods at the datapad, “Now let’s make you as informed on Uquine and its people as I am. Then we can discuss our course of action. We have to leave in an hour, so evaluate your questions carefully and don’t ask the stupid ones.”
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

Отредактировано K-2SO (03-04-2018 00:29:40)

    “You think you know me well enough to tell if I like you or not,” Kay doesn’t ask, he states. “I don’t think you do, but if you’re more comfortable believing that then by all means, be my guest.”
    In all truth, Cassian’s judgement isn’t bad. Most people seem to think that Kay either dislikes them or downright hates their guts simply because he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t engage in small talk and he doesn’t care much for people. Just for the cause. That’s why he will always be a lieutenant in the Rebellion. Luckily, Kay doesn’t care for ranks either. And he certainly doesn’t hate anyone around here. He doesn’t find anyone interesting enough to either hate or like. And it doesn’t matter, even if he did. His likes and dislikes are all left behind when it comes to his job.
    “As for your questions, we will go to Uquine and observe the situation for several days first. We will gather information on our surroundings, on the people, on the general situation on the planet. If there is any serious confrontation going on, we will carefully gather information on it from afar and evaluate our options, then decide on our next steps. If not, then after the first few days we shall infiltrate the cell under fake identities and observe, evaluate and report back for at least a couple of weeks. We will not engage in any activities more than needed to uphold the legend. We will not do anything rash, or stupid, or dangerous. We will not break our pretense regardless of circumstances. If either one of us is uncovered, the other one shall proceed with the mission. Understood?”
    Kay lays out the entire mission, and there is immediately a part of him that tries to calculate the odds of failure on any step. The odds of Cassian blowing their cover. The odds of himself blowing their cover. The odds of Cassian doing something rash and not thinking his actions through. The odds of the cell being a trap laid for the Rebellion intelligence officers. Kay still thinks that, out of all the possible missions, this one is the easiest, most comfortable one to ease someone into the craft. Cassian is lucky.
    Kay’s first mission was to find and kill—they say ‘eliminate’ in the Rebellion, but that’s just a weak excuse to keep their conscience at bay—an Imperial officer. A very specific one. He thinks about the man briefly, until his thoughts move on.
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

    He would have joined the Empire was he born on a different planet to different parents, Kay almost answers. Nobody is standing there with a sign ‘good guys, please, proceed to the Rebellion, bad guys, move over to the Empire’ in life. Good people work for the Empire. Some of the best people he has known worked for the Empire. But it’s the past, and it has nothing to do with their mission. By the looks of it, Cassian has to learn the truth the hard way, and Kay says nothing.
    “That is correct,” he nods.
    If Cassian was a trained intelligence officer, it would be the most reasonable course of action. Infiltrate the cell separately, assess it separately, exit it separately. However, Cassian isn’t a trained intelligence officer, and the chances of him making some kind of mistake are high. Too high, for Kay’s liking. He isn’t used to working with a partner. A partner raises the probability of failure. Too bad Cassian isn’t some sort of a droid Kay could just give a clear list of orders and be sure he would follow them.
    “However, we are not going to do that,” Kay continues after a small pause. “You are not experienced enough to infiltrate anything on your own, yet. So we are to come up with a legend that would explain why you and I are traveling together, and why one of us might be surprised at the other one being an agent. It raises the chances of trouble should one of us be uncovered thus making the task more difficult, but it also lowers the chances of you dying a premature death. I would rather deal with largely avoidable trouble than with an almost inevitable death.”
    Kay stands up and takes the datapad from Cassian, sets it on the table and turns back to the kid. Something changes in him almost imperceptibly at first, something in the stance, in the way he holds his head, his shoulders. His dark eyes become warmer, as if someone just switched him on. Or changed him altogether. It‘s like those magical drawings that only appear on a blank sheet of paper if you add some water to it.
    Kay holds out his hand to Cassian and says, “So nice to meet you, my name is Nigel Harr,” and when he talks, he has a pronounced Corellian accent. He seems more relaxed, friendlier, easier to approach.
    He also smiles warmly.
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

Отредактировано K-2SO (05-04-2018 22:46:02)

    Cassian reinforces his Festian accent, but that’s the only thing he does so far. The kid has much to learn, but all in due time. Kay isn’t worried about it so much now. The only benefit of being a beginner intelligence agent is that nobody will remember you anyway—too small, too insignificant, too improbable. That’s the right characteristic, Cassian being an agent is too improbable at this stage. He’s fifteen. Fifteen year olds are anything but rebel intelligence agents. Usually.
    “Ah-huh,” Kay shakes his head and laughs lightly, “haven’t fooled me yet, kid. And neither,” he adds. “A slicer. And you, my dear friend, is going to be my new apprentice. I heard you know a thing or two about decoding? Where did you learn that? No, first things first. What is your name?”
    Kay adds one layer over another. First the accent, the stance, the way of holding himself, the warmth. Then the profession, the confidence in being useful for the rebel cell, the way he phrases things. Now the antics, the thoughts that are too quick for the mouth to follow, the lightness to his laugh, all the little gestures. When it comes to creating a character for himself, a faux persona, Kay is an artist. The general once told him he wouldn’t believe the stories didn’t he see Kay at work with his own eyes. Useless flattery.
    Kay has been doing this for—what, twenty-one?—many years by now. And when he got recruited, when he had his own ‘Kay’ to introduce him to the craft, he was told he’s a natural. If fates turned out differently, he would have been an actor. Instead, he is an Alliance intelligence officer. Kay looks at Cassian and carefully considers what else they need to change in him, if anything. His name is an obligatory precaution. His face is new, nobody will remember it. His accent—that detail is good. His backstory, to some extent. How he came to be a slicer’s apprentice.
    As far as Kay managed to learn so far, everybody always needed a good slicer—especially if there were two for the price of one, ready to begin their work right away.
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

    “Jeron,” Kay says, clumsily mimicking Cassian‘s pronunciation, adding that extra bounciness to the sound of it.
    He keeps smiling pleasantly and nonchalantly, like a person without a care in the world. Even though he is pretending to be someone else, he isn’t pretending to feel someone else’s emotions—he remembers his own happy moments, and they make him smile sincerely. A gesture he isn’t used to but Nigel Harr is. He looks at Cassian waiting for him to continue answering.
    A part of him is surprised the kid isn’t beaming back at him—of all people, Cassian seemed to be the kind of person who would. But then again, maybe they changed their roles here, and Cassian wants to pretend he doesn’t smile. Ever. He definitely pretends—his eyes lit up, even though his lips don’t move. They’re still on the base, and the game is on. Kay doesn‘t call him out on it, not yet.
    “You tell me, kiddo,” he shrugs his shoulders as if he would buy anything Cassian told him. He wouldn’t. “You know more about Fest than I do,” not true. “And you certainly know more about Jeron than I do,” true.
    Kay looks at Cassian for a little while, his eyes inquisitive but still flooded with warmth. A person who had a kid or a little brother would know this look. It’s the look that Kay keeps in the very depths of his memory, only ever pulling it to the surface for the missions like this one. Nigel Harr is amiable and he treats his little protégé like he would a brother. It fits, so Kay lets the detail stay.
    “What you should change isn’t your story, it’s the way you tell it. Your main instrument shouldn’t be your words, it should be your entire body. You can say complete and utter nonsense, but if your body moves the right way, people will believe you,” it’s quite a bit more complex than that, but Kay doesn’t want Cassian to drown in the nuances so early on. He places a hand on the kid’s shoulder and squeezes it lightly, “Your shoulders are stiff when you talk. It’s the first telltale.” He removes his hand. “Look at me and try to tell, if I’m lying or not. Don’t listen to your head, though. Switch it off for a moment and trust your gut.”
    Although the words themselves clearly belong to Kay, the rest belongs to Nigel. It’s Nigel’s smile, his accent, his little gesture, his flamboyant attitude. He steps back, visibly drops the charade and looks Cassian in the eyes, his gaze steady and calm.
    “Before coming here I worked on a mine on one of the Colonies. The work was dirty and tedious, I hated it with my guts and only ever wanted to get off the stupid rock and do something—anything—else,” Kay covers his throat with his palm, and his shoulders rise. “I got lucky, ran from the mine when I was seventeen—some merchants picked me up. I got very lucky. They traded old-school books mostly. The old worlds’ tales and kids books, and I remember I would try to read every single one before they got sold. They treated me fairly well. I worked hard, sometimes harder than on a mine, but it was fun. Hard work, yeah,” Kay trails off. He stands very still, his breathing heavier than usual. He looks upwards and to his right for a moment before continuing, “Either way, that was much better than dying on that shitty planet. It was a dick move to leave my family on it, though. The decision I still regret to this day.”
    Kay shakes his head. Looks away for a second.
    Then adds, “They died slaves, and I didn’t.”
    And his gaze returns to Cassian. Again, the same inquisitiveness in it, and warmth—not his own, Nigel’s. Nigel is back.
    “What do you think?”
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

    Kay can almost see the cogs twisting and turning in Cassian’s head as he tries to calculate the answer. Some years of practice, and he’ll be able to do it if not instantly then much, much quicker. For now, Kay lets the kid think for as long as it will take him to arrive to some sort of a conclusion. Upon hearing his answer, Kay nods and chuckles a little at the little adorable way in which Cassian offers his empathy.
    “Don’t be, I made it all up,” he says.
    That’s not exactly true, he didn’t make it all up. Most of it, but not everything.
    Kay thinks for a moment. He could ask the kid, make him think about all the little things that give away a liar. It’s possible Cassian would even name some, but he’s more likely to see the difference if presented with the other side of the spectrum. Kay doesn’t drop the charade this time but does drop the smile.
    “Watch me again,” he instructs Cassian. ”Before coming here I worked on a mine on one of the Colonies. The work was dirty and tedious, I hated it with my guts and only ever wanted to get off the stupid rock and do something—anything—else,” Kay says again, but this time his pose is more fluid, his shoulders are moving a little as he speaks. “I got lucky, ran from the mine when I was seventeen—some merchants picked me up. They traded books mostly. I remember I would try to read every single one before they got sold. The merchants treated me fairly well. I worked hard, sometimes harder than on a mine, but it was fun,” he shrugs his shoulders. His breathing is even. Sometimes he looks away, usually to the left, then returns his gaze to Cassian. “Either way, that was much better than dying on that shitty planet. It was a dick move to leave my family on it, though. The decision I still regret to this day.”
    Kay nods his head a little, almost imperceptibly. Looks down for a second.
    Then adds, “They died slaves, and I didn’t.”
    Once again, his eyes return to Cassian. He tilts his head a little, smiles again.
    “What do you think now? What changed? You guess at least three things—I’ll answer one of your questions.”
    Kay realizes he won’t be able to use this leverage forever, but he can exploit it for now.
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]

    “That’s enough, kiddo,” Kay says softly, still in Nigel’s voice, and only then drops the persona again. ”In case you’re wondering, it’s Nigel’s story before he became who he is today. I repeated it twice, whatever you remember is what you know about him if anybody asks.”
    He must admit, Cassian isn’t all that bad at this. The general certainly wasn’t a fool to put the kid here—even the learning process excites him. Kay thinks for a moment then lifts up eight fingers. The probability of Cassian catching every single thing was low, but he did fulfil the task—he named not three but four. Half of the things Kay was showing him. He considers if the bar he set for Cassian was too low. Then decides it was alright, the kid deserves a bit of a treat for his efforts today and for the future failures, too. Whenever they come.
    “Right now you are quite average at this,” Kay says in his usual calm and dispassionate voice. “You named five things. I don’t count the one about me looking down cause it doesn’t matter if I look away to the side the way I did or down—it’s not a sign of lying. I don’t count the one about the shoulders, because I pointed it out to you,” Kay puts one finger down. “The other three that you named were correct. Looking to the right indicates the person is addressing their imagination instead of their memory. A person who is lying tends to breath heavier, they are naturally nervous. Shaking head while talking is more often than not a telltale as well, you explained that well enough for me to repeat,” Kay puts down three other fingers. “Your result is fifty percent, minus five points for the overthinking. Forty-five percent total. Average.”
    Kay isn’t disappointed in Cassian or scared for him. Apart from the fact that outside the mission he doesn’t really care for the kid, it’s a perfectly normal result. He has seen people with worse results do good. Cassian is going to be alright if he sets his mind to learning behavioral language, body language. The probability that the excited kid is going to try and analyze everything that breathes is very high. Kay is not going to stop him.
    “The other signs were me repeating my own words—convincing myself as well as you; covering my throat to protect myself; standing stiff; looking you in the eyes all the time. The probability of you remembering all of this on a mission is around twenty-five percent so I don’t expect you to,” Kay puts his hands down. “Now. What is your question? Choose carefully, this is the only freebie you are going to get.”
[nick]Kay Tooesso[/nick][status]what are the odds[/status][icon]https://s7.postimg.cc/akubc07uz/Chiwetel_Ejiofor.jpg[/icon][LZ]<br><center><a href="https://swmedley.rusff.me/viewtopic.php?id=75#p815">IDENTIFICATION CARD</a><br><br><img src="https://forumstatic.ru/files/0018/1a/00/81098.png"><br><b>Kay Tooesso</b>, <br>Alliance intelligence officer</center>[/LZ]