No Good Deed

[Commissar]

Jana Achen

---

A lesser woman would have laughed. Less than a minute in each other's company, and Klugmann's hound and the Buro-esque stranger were ripping into each other like a pair of vultures that had found the last piece of carrion in the desert. It was a childish display. Chest-beating and death threats, of all things. Amateurish. A professional started with the little threats. A man would be positively grateful if he thought you were breaking his kneecaps instead of glassing his city. No, the real professionals bruised and battered, where they had to. A little twist of the knife first, to show you were serious, and then she started talking about what else she could do to you. A truly convincing threat was the one you had already followed through on. A bruised rib was an excellent prerequisite to an enlightening conversation. Everything else was just words. It was all Jana could do to hide her smirk in her book.

While Freya and Sarah's cloaked companion swapped threats, the younger woman was cycling through expressions faster than the Bundestag chewed through representatives. From a put-upon glare at the Vorsitzende's disappointment, she turned a beetroot red at Freya's mention of Axel and stared at the floor as though it held the answer to the great questions of the universe. Sparks dissolved into shocked indignation at Freya's threat, real anger burning in her eyes. The young activist opened her mouth to speak.

"How dar-" She froze mid-sentence when the Buro lookalike spoke up. Like a soldier and a superior. Or a father and daughter. Jana glanced at a page, turned it, and filed the observation away for later consideration.

Silence settled on the gathering like a shroud at the lookalike's - Vaelin, he'd said - question. It was certainly a pseudonym, and not a particularly imaginative one at that. Jana had seen worse, but she would be hard-pressed to remember where. Jana settled in her chair. Quiet was a more useful tool than bluster.

Finally, McFarlen shifted like a rat under a lab-assistant's gaze, gave a nervous cough and spoke.

"Chr-" Her gaze darted to the wall behind Freya, and she winced as though she'd just stood on a tack. The girl made a valiant effort at a recovery, nerves rushing her words like a runner squeezing out breaths. "Vaelin, this is Freya. She's Vorsitzende of the Bundschuh." When that didn't garner a sign of recognition, she continued. "She's the boss. Not just of the Widerstand. Of the Bunschuh, all of it. Freya, this is Vaelin. He's... An old friend?" And questioning his decison to visit, I suspect.

When it become clear that no hand-shakes would be forthcoming, she turned her attention to the rest of the room. Sparks glanced across the desk and seemed to see Jana for the first time.

"This is..." She trailed off, uncertain.

Jana placed Paradise Lost on the floor beside her and glanced up at the pair. She gave an encouraging smile and let the young activist drift into complete silence before she spoke.

"Jana Achen. Here as an observer only, I'm afraid." She unfurled from the seat, extended a thin hand to shake the younger woman's and, in turn, offered it to Vaelin. "I don't believe we've met."

"The Vorsitzende-" Jana returned to her seat, retrieved the book. "And I, are concerned as to your conduct, Mr Darklight. You know, I had someone look over the docking manifest, and I can find no individual by that name. Perhaps you could start by explaining to the Vorsitzende how you found your way aboard? Without further threats to this facility, if you would."

---

May you live in interesting times.
| Sarah McFarlen | Jane Hartman |