His commlink blinks and then indicates it’s got a message. Kay presses Open, but nothing happens. Then he presses it in the same pattern he told Cassian to press Send—twice, holding the button longer the second time. Commlink screen clears, until in the upper left corner there’s a little beating heart, showing what apparently is Cassian’s pulse, and right next to it there is an arrow. Kay looks up from the commlink—the arrow points exactly at the kid, who is still talking, thinking.
    “An attention span of a felinx, congratulations,” he remarks. “Ways of knowing something about a person without talking to them, not ways of learning something by brutally assaulting them. People they work with, their living space, surveillance. Code—not really. There aren’t many telltales in the code. They’ll just learn we are good at our job. Nothing more.”
    Kay walks around the room, his attention glued to the screen of his commlink again. The arrow points in the generally right direction. The tech uses satellites up on the orbit, the signal could potentially be hijacked, but it’s a risk they will just have to deal with. Kay walks back and forth some more, before picking up his datapad and tweaking something in the code.
    “Talking. Searching. Observing,” he says, clearly punctuating every word. “The three things you can do to learn something about a person. Think again. What are the other ways—what else they can search, how can they observe, who can they talk to. Do not,” Kay steps closer to Cassian, quickly looking at his face, before switching back to the app on his datapad and tweaking the code of the kid’s commlink in the same way he just did with his own, “let your imagination run. No drugging. No beating. These are smart people if they survived in their little cell on an Imperial planet. They know how to be subtle. Put yourself in their place. Think.”
    Kay’s fingers fly over the datapad keyboard, mending the code, until it looks like it should—and, hopefully, acts like it should. He isn’t eager to test that in the field, though.
[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 (29-07-2018 09:32:51)

    Kay doesn’t acknowledge Cassian’s words in any way. Finally, the kid starts exploring options, thinking through them and addressing different sides and arguments, yet Kay just keeps silent. He finishes with the code and sets the datapad aside, then returns back to his original place on the other side of the room.
    “Ah, he finally pays attention,” Kay says in a detached kind of way. He presses Send once, then the second time, holding the button longer. Now there should be a message on Cassian’s commlink—the icon of it just a little bit different from the default message icon. “Press Open using the same pattern—once, then the second time hold it longer. It’s a primitive tech, easier to hide, so there are just two things on the screen there. One is a heartbeat tracker—that’s why I asked you to make sure you fix it on your wrist properly. The other is a geo-tracker. It’s about as accurate as I can make it without getting into the complicated coding stuff.”
    Kay walks back and forth around the room so Cassian can see how the arrow follows him with a tiny delay, but generally well. At least, well enough to find somebody if they, say, are dragged to some odd building on the outskirts of the city, or are thrown in jail, or anything else.
    “Press Send once, and it will close. You will not be able to open it again. Once the link is severed, it’s off completely, until the next time I send you this type of message. Otherwise it’s a boring, ordinary commlink, same as usual.” Kay sets his own commlink on mute and looks at Cassian. “Now, the fun part. You know our goal. You know we are going to be checked by these people—in one way or another, and we have no means of predicting, in which exactly. You know we are going out today, you brought me the flyers. Everything is going smoothly. Feeling safe,”—he suddenly claps his hands, but his voice is still calm—“is what can get you killed. Tell me, what can go wrong?”
    There is a rather simple answer to this question—everything. Everything can go wrong, at any point in time, anywhere, with anyone. One sniper shot through the window—and one of them is dead. One missed moment—and one, or both of them, is gone. One wrong choice—and the mission is failed. Kay watches Cassian calmly.
[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 keeps an eye on Cassian until the kid finally starts talking. It‘s mesmerizing how his childhood affects him in this little, but fundamental way. It feels almost as if Cassian can’t possibly imagine the cell not being a true one. And maybe he can’t, because he grew up in one. Kay grew up in a drastically different environment, and to him, nothing really is what it says it is, until he has seen it with his own eyes—and even then, looks can lie. However, the kid’s thinking is good this time, he snaps right out of his illusion. There is a possibility he isn’t going to get killed after all. Still a slim one, but it exists.
    “There is no plan for that. We just run,” Kay says. “We break all our contact, you and I both on our own. This,”—he shows the commlink to Cassian—”should only be used if you are one hundred percent sure it is vital that we find each other again and stick together. It usually isn’t so don’t get your hopes high if we ever do separate.”
    Kay doesn’t like this part. This is one of the other reasons why he doesn’t do partners. Partners can get killed. Especially fifteen-year-old ones. Cassian may be smart for his age but he is still so very young. There is a possibility he could survive on his own while on Uquine—he still has his Fest experience, after all—but the possibility of him getting back to the base in one piece is much, much lower. Kay stays calm. From the very beginning he outlined Cassian’s chances of survival, and made the kid aware of them.
    He did not, however, make him aware of the other part. Of the part that, if an agent is unlucky, comes before death. Of the part that is much worse than death.
    “How much pain can you tolerate? What was the most physically painful experience you have ever had?”

[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]

    Two years ago Kay was already amongst rebels, but as he didn’t concern himself much with whatever was going on at the base in between his missions, he neither saw nor heard anything about this up until today. Thirteen is a very young and tender age to be subjected to training like that. Even he was eighteen when he signed up, and they didn’t get to that part of the training until a year later. Kay steps closer to Cassian, stops in front of him. He isn’t about to shout this across the room.
    “If you ever find yourself in a situation when you are being interrogated, and they ask you about me—you give me up. You give them anything and everything they would like to know about me, you, or our mission. Do not try to play a hero—they will break you in ways you cannot imagine. I can take care of myself.” Kay isn’t sure if the kid knows yet what it means, when an agent says they can take care of themselves in a context like this. Even better, if he doesn’t. “You get caught, you do not worry about me. You worry about yourself.”
    The probability of the kid listening to what he’s saying is rather low. Kay has no idea how to reinforce his words. If things turn to worse, Cassian is better off either dying a painless death after giving up information, or staying alive and as unharmed as possible to escape—if he decides to escape. The look on Kay’s face is stern. It is impossible to teach someone how to ignore pain or raise somebody’s pain threshold in just one evening. This is the best possible option he can see.
    “To be clear—this is an order. I will not tolerate disobedience. Is this understood?”
    They have to go soon, and Kay hopes this conversation is going to stay in Cassian’s memory for the rest of their time together. Nobody ever throws kids in work like this, so Cassian is just unlucky he has to learn the ropes this way. It should be a simple mission. It probably is—just a cell, just some people interested in joining the bigger, stronger Rebellion. But there always is this possibility that it isn’t, and their commlinks might come in handy.
[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]

    It’s grim and dark, and Kay doesn’t like it, but it is a part of his job—and of Cassian’s job, too. Any other person would immediately go into the soothing, reassuring mode, telling the kid nothing bad is going to happen, and he is going to be just fine, they both are. Kay does nothing of the like. He just nods, acknowledging both Cassian and his answer.
    “The probability of you breaking this promise is very high,” he says. “Don’t think I don’t know it.”
    However, this is the only thing he has to say, as he quickly goes around the apartment, picks his wallet, and goes out the door, immediately transforming into the nonchalant, relaxed Nigel Harr, the man on a mission to get filthy drunk celebrating a job well done. The interesting bit is—Kay can’t get drunk. People from his planet can tolerate immense quantities of alcohol in their blood and still be as sober as a priest. Sometimes he wished he could get drunk, though.
    Kay leads them to one of the cantinas he has been to before. It is also the one from a flyer he hid just next to his own bed. There should be some kind of a meeting, or a person speaking, or something that isn’t suspicious enough for the Empire to pay special attention yet very much rebel-like. Or potentially rebel-like. The cantina itself, Low Deck, is a murky place, but the drinks are nice and the waitresses are even nicer. One of them recognizes Kay—or, rather, Nigel—and settles them comfortably behind a table in a good spot.
    A good spot to observe, but also a good spot to be observed.
    Kay looks over to Cassian and orders him a non-alcoholic drink, and a glass of local liquor for himself. Once the waitress leaves, he follows her with his eyes for a bit before turning back to Cassian.
    “You are not drinking alcohol on my watch, kiddo,” he smirks. “But we are celebrating so order yourself anything from the menu. We are going to be here for a while, might as well try some of the local cuisine.”
    In half an hour the meeting—or whatever it is—should begin, but before that they have some time to look around, even spot some familiar faces. Kay just leans back in his seat and scans the menu, seemingly uninterested in anything or anyone else.
[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 evening goes on and slowly turns into night, and it looks like the only thing Kay is interested in is his liquor, the more the merrier. He drinks it as easily as water, downs one glass after another and doesn’t even attempt looking around. When the waitress comes back to collect their plates, he flirts with her in a clumsy and adorable bordering on creepy way a drunk person would. She answers cheerfully and escapes his presence quickly, but that doesn’t seem to affect his, indeed, very merry mood.
    Kay can’t get drunk but he can fake being drunk damn well.
    When there are no waitresses around and no other customers he can harass with drunk questions, Kay turns his attention to Cassian and chats with him, talking gibberish and slurring half the time—something about slicing and Empire, and cells, and what he calls “a big war”, and a bunch of other things that don’t make much sense or add up. They just create lots of noise. Lots of very specific noise that Kay is very aware is being listened to by the few people around them, including waitresses passing next to their table further into the canteen.
    Finally, he looks at his watch and drops his head onto his arms on the table. “Seems like we m’ssed th’talk. Pity. Where ’re all th’people?”
    It’s a risk and a bargain, but Kay thinks that Cassian isn’t the type of person who would panic. The kid is smart, he’ll play along even if he is fooled by all this—frankly, quite outstanding—acting on Kay’s part. He turns his head to look at the kid. His face lights up with a goofy drunken smile. What was it, five glasses? Six? To a regular person watching him, Kay should be practically consisting of liquor at this point.
    “D’ya know where did they all go?”
[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 (29-07-2018 23:43:44)

    Sometimes you have to be careful, calculated and precise in your actions. Other times you have to pretend to not have a care in the world, to mess everything up and not be in control—because that way you can step out of the box and see what drastically changed circumstances do to your opponents. Kay slurs again when Cassian searches his pockets and quickly looks around the cantina, pretending to be drunkenly stumbling towards the exit. Soon the kid catches up with him and slips under his arm, and Kay has to stop looking around.
    “No rest!” he exclaims, outstretching his arm. “Fur th‘wicked, kiddo.”
    However, he listens to Cassian, and they do go home. That was more than enough time to search the apartment and watch them both, and people did watch them in the cantina, Kay paid attention. Once a certain few people entered the room, quite a bunch of locals cleared out almost immediately, some of them—leaving their food and drinks. It’s not how people react to rebels, not usually. Unless the cell around here prefers to employ highly terroristic and dangerous methods to make their point.
    On the street Kay continues to stumble and slur and sometimes even shout, but nothing intelligible. Some of his shouts are words from popular Corellian songs, others are just random sounds. When they enter the building and go up the stairs, he can hardly step without bumping either in Cassian or the rails. Next to their door he leans on the wall and exhales a long breath.
    “Ch’ck th’lock,” he says. “It’s jamming—I’m jamming, I’m gonna be jamming with you,”—he suddenly breaks into a song, even tries to do dancing moves but ends up sliding down the wall to the floor—”S’ry. Th’lock. Check it. Still jammed?”
    If there was anybody in the flat, the lock would open easily. If there wasn’t, the lock would still be slightly jammed. It’s an old building, and an easy enough trick to track when someone wants to make a close acquaintance with your personal things. Unfortunately, Kay can’t check it himself, he still has to pretend in case they followed them into the building or there is some other vantage point to observe the door. Or there is some tech installed to do that, now. But that would mean it’s not a rebel cell. Rebel cells don’t have money and resources to do something like that. Kay keeps humming the song to himself.

dice and more dice

[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 (30-07-2018 13:13:01)

    Kay doesn’t need help entering, he proudly wanders in on wobbly legs and waits till the door is closed. The lock was jammed, which means nobody came. There is a possibility that whoever came jammed the lock back but it’s highly unlikely. People, even the most meticulous ones, don’t always notice such things, and if anybody came to their apartment, they would be in a rush. Kay leans on the wall inside the apartment. They are safe away from the windows, nobody could see them now.
    Nobody came. Interesting. Kay thinks about it for a while. If nobody came here, then who was watching them at the cantina? The cell? Imperial agents? Somebody else? Cassian keeps talking, and finally his words filter through. Kay stands up straight, suddenly sober and clear-headed, and looks at the kid.
    “Good,” he says. “It means you paid attention in the cantina. Nobody came here, the lock was jammed on purpose. If anybody opened it, I would know. But nobody did. However, there were people watching us in the cantina. The kind of people who make other locals hurry away, leaving their food and drinks behind. Those were either very radical rebels, or criminals, or Imperial officers disguised as civilians. This should clear up your confusion.”
    Kay looks around, quickly checking which parts of the apartment could be seen through windows from the outside. Workshop is in the inner part of the building, so it’s good, nobody can see into it without going inside. When finished with scanning the apartment, Kay looks back at Cassian. There was another thing the kid said. About drinking. That should be cleared up too. Cassian must consider himself very important if he thinks him not hating could make Kay drink and care.
    “Questions?” Kay says instead. “The probability of you having questions is very high. Go 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]

Отредактировано K-2SO (30-07-2018 15:13:31)

    The onslaught of questions is exactly what Kay expected, so he just waits patiently until Cassian runs out of them. The only question which he finds unnecessary is the last one—how he did it. Of course, the kid would like to know how he did it, but the answer isn’t some high-tech or a pill, or training, or anything. It’s his home. He’s Varadanian, that’s how he can do it. There are little mutations that happen to people on different planets, and Varadan just happened to be the planet where people mutated to withstand alcohol. It makes sense, given there are way too many creatures breathing ethanol out into the atmosphere. There were just two things that could happen—people either got drunk literally on air and died, or they evolved. So, naturally, they evolved.
    “Your questions,” Kay says slowly, looking Cassian in the eyes, unblinking. “They were watching everyone. They were watching us especially, because we were new, and I was loud. I was loud—and, supposedly, drunk—to make sure everyone knows where we stand. Enemies and friends alike. As for your last question—”
    Kay stops and considers his answer. He could tell the kid about his planet. Although that would be getting a tad bit too close to his personal life for him to feel comfortable about it. Yet, even if he tells Cassian he’s from Varadan, what the kid could potentially find out about him through that? Certainly not details of his past. He’ll just know, from now on, that Kay comes from a desert mining world.
    “It’s not a trick you can repeat. It’s not training, it’s the way I’m wired. You’re from Fest, you’re wired differently. You probably can withstand harsh cold climate much better than me. Did I answer your questions?”
    Now they need to think through their next step. Kay anticipates lots of waiting in coming days, but they will see how it goes. Waiting is good as it allows to prepare yourself. Perhaps, that’s what they should busy themselves with.
[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 suddenly claps his hands, the loud clap rippling through the air.
    “Every time you make a quick judgement, I will clap my hands. We helped a woman. If you possess secret telepathic skills, like some jedi from tales, you better tell me now, because that way our job will be much quicker.” Kay looks at Cassian pointedly before going to the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water.
    He can’t get drunk all that easy but alcohol sure makes him thirsty. Kay downs two glasses of water before he can bring himself to care about anything else. He shuffles around the kitchen some more, at some point looking out the window, then goes into the bedroom. He looks out the window there too, and then draws the curtain. It’s late in the night, and they both should go to sleep. Kay thinks it over.
    He doesn’t know if it’s safe. He doesn’t know if it’s not safe, either. At the moment it’s that weird time in the mission when nothing is certain. They can either provoke some action or wait and see. If he was alone, he would definitely provoke it. He did provoke it today in the cantina, to a certain extent. However, Cassian is here too, and Kay has to account for that.
    He does nothing. Just goes to sleep, and tells Cassian to do so as well.
    The night passes quietly, and in the morning Kay wakes up thoughtful. If only there was a way of knowing who watched them yesterday in the cantina. He could ask around, of course, but who would tell him? Kay stares into his plate of porridge like he’s mesmerized by it. Finally, he lifts his face up and finds Cassian. The kid might come in handy right now. Kids—teenagers are different from grown adults. They live by their own rules. Especially on planets like this one.
    “I have a task for you. Tell me, did you make friends around here? You were out quite a lot in the beginning.”
[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]

    “A kid speaks of children like he isn’t one of them,” Kay murmurs to himself, his habit still staying with him. “The task,” he says louder. “We need to know who was it in the cantina yesterday. I have several guesses. It’s either some criminals dangerous enough to scare people away, or Imperial officers in civilian clothes—the kind who go mostly undetected, but the locals beware of them just cause, or radical rebels, who are, to some people, border-line criminals. Go out and find it out through your friends. Be careful. Don’t get caught by anybody on being too interested in things like this. Take your commlink with you and don’t ever let it go, until we get off this planet. Make up a good story why you’re interested, if anybody asks. Make it consistent. If two people talk to each other, they should both have the same story from you. Don’t get cocky. Don’t get violent. Don’t get killed, however, it is mostly out of your hands. Don’t provoke anybody. Remember the rule of three C. Calm. Collected. Careful.”
    Kay looks at Cassian, immediately thinking of the possibility of the kid getting caught on the street, or the locals getting suspicious about them, and the possibility of Cassian actually doing a good job on his little sneaky task. Kay decides that he shall see. This is the first time he trusts Cassian to do something on his own—something more important than finding an apartment. Something closer to a real job.
    He wants to say that if Cassian does get caugh, he has no intention to come and look for him.
    He doesn’t say anything.
[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 returns so suddenly and so loudly that he almost catches Kay off guard. He lifts his eyes from his datapad and looks at the kid, checking his outfit for any sign of struggle. When he finds nothing, his gaze shifts to Cassian’s face, the kid’s eyes so bright, so proud. Another cell. That’s big news. So instead of having just a cell, which can be either real or fake, they now have two cells, of which they have to somehow pick the right one, the one that is a true one. If they guess wrong—they die or face incarceration. Lovely prospect.
    Cassian asks for praise, and Kay provides none. Instead he thinks, calculating the possibilities and chances, and how to not get killed in this mess of a situation. The woman could’ve been from either cell. There is no way of telling, unless you are in the cell. Or know somebody who is in the cell and can either confirm or deny suspicions.
    “Did anybody follow you around when you were asking questions? Did you notice anything strange? People or droids, or other tech, or anything?” he asks first. That’s the most important part.
    Cassian might have done well in the department of opening his mouth and charming the hell out of his friends—Kay believes, the kid is rather capable of that. But was he careful enough, did he pay attention to his surroundings—that Kay has no way of knowing except for asking. Even if he was followed, there isn’t much harm in it. One of the cells knows their address anyway. The other one, however. Hm. Kay rolls it over in his head, looks at it from different angles, trying to guess, to deduce, to imagine what he would do if he was their enemy. Or a friend who didn’t know they were friends yet.
    The mission doesn’t seem to get easier. Kay tilts his head.
    “You can ask me another question, if you’d like.”
[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 shakes his head to all his questions. It doesn’t mean anything, but for people posing potential threat being cleverer than a young rebel kid who thinks he knows it all. Maybe he is getting paranoid about it, but paranoia is what keeps people alive in their line of work. Kay doesn’t say anything, just keeps thinking, while Cassian considers his precious question. There is a possibility he’s going to ask something off-putting again, but Kay sticks to his ways like a droid would. He just reminds himself to make sure the kid—if he survives, if they both do—doesn’t wander around the Rebellion base chatting away his secrets after they come back.
    To Kay’s surprise, Cassian picks the simplest question. The one question that doesn’t require many details to be answered. It’s easy. So easy it’s painful—because there are billions of stories like this. Kay draws a long breath.
    “They wiped out my planet and my family along with it.”
    It’s a figure of speech, of course. Varadan is still very much up there in the sky, and Kay is pretty sure it once again returned to its barbaric ways of living. But then, three and a half years ago, the Empire did not like something about it or just needed to test a new tech, Kay doesn’t remember the puny little details of it. He just remembers Varadan red from blood of his people. He never actually saw it, the news has found him later, and he has had no means of going there, but it still haunted him.
    It haunted him even more when he learnt whose order was it.
    “So I killed an Imperial general. The one person nobody could get to, except for me.”
    When Kay says it, he doesn’t sound pleased. If anything, his voice suddenly becomes hollow, even more devoid of emotion than before. Not as if he is in control of himself or successfully suppresses his emotions, but rather as if there is a hole in him, a special place in his heart where he just can’t feel anymore, completely and utterly desensitized. It’s been three years, and he still fucking hates the man.
    It’s a pity it’s impossible to kill someone twice.
[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]

    Silence grows in the room until it encompasses everything, and Kay feels like drowning in it. Cassian asks questions that are easy to answer but the answers make Kay suffocate on the inside. He doesn’t share like this, never. He shouldn’t share with Cassian. It doesn’t matter for the mission, it doesn’t bring anything to it. It’s a little incentive for the kid, yes, but maybe Kay overestimated his own readiness to be dissected like this.
    He stares, unblinking, past Cassian, as if he was a clockwork droid, and the clockwork just ran out of charge.
    “Yes,” he says, breaking the silence. “Yes, I was. Closer than I would have liked. He was the one who gave the order.” Kay slowly focuses his gaze on Cassian’s face. His eyes feel itchy, but he blinks a couple of times, and the sensation passes. “You should stop asking questions you didn’t earn yet, otherwise the incentive will lose all its purpose. I am not here to entertain you. We are here on a mission. Go take care of the little task I have for you.”
    Kay nods at Cassian’s workplace. The task is rather simple, to encrypt a short message on the progress of their mission to the Rebellion base. It’s concise, Kay didn’t even bother forming proper sentences, just strung together keywords and punctuated them with dots here and there. Two cells. One fake. Checking. That’s all the base has to know.

[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 (02-08-2018 14:09:05)

    Cassian’s questions make Kay remember—not that he ever forgets, really—and he deals with it the only way he knows how—by burying himself in work. He makes himself switch from the childhood memories to present, and he doesn’t get out of his work mode neither that day, nor the next day, nor the day after that. He gets them another couple of jobs, to keep the legend running, and he smiles and laughs, and tells fantastic stories to their clients. Nigel doesn’t hurt. Nigel doesn’t have a messed-up past.
    Somehow, among all of this, Kay is certain the next time Cassian does something worth rewarding he will allow yet more questions. There is something about telling his story, albeit fragmented, to this kid. There is something about the kid himself, but Kay doesn’t delve deep into these thoughts. It shouldn’t matter, it’s just a little motivational game, and he convinces himself that it, indeed, doesn’t matter.
    Kay takes Cassian with him when he goes out, this time not to some cantina but to a grocery store. On the way there he describes one story that never happened, except to an imaginary Nigel Harr, and on the way back, along the evening streets with grocery bags in his hands, he tells another. All of them are light and entertaining, and a bit funny, and Kay tells them perfectly, with spot-on humour. Maybe, he gets into it too much, or the strangers are just too good at their job, it’s difficult to tell.
    Kay just feels somebody approaching, and one of the strangers, a twi’lek, is tall enough to throw his arm over Kay’s shoulders in what could have been an amicable gesture was it not for a blaster pressed to Kay’s side. “Keep walking,” he says quietly.
    “What is this?” Kay asks, not breaking his Nigel persona even for a moment, and quickly looks over to Cassian. “You picked the wrong time to assault us, we just spent all our money in the store. Would you like some bread instead?”
    Well, this is smart. Here, on the street, Kay can’t do what he would have done otherwise, because Nigel is peaceful. He doesn’t fight. Doesn’t know how to fight hand-to-hand. If Kay breaks his character, and somebody who isn’t supposed to be here sees that, it would be impossible to continue the mission. So he stays perfectly calm—except for a nervous smile on Nigel’s face—and calculates.
[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]