Oaths Are for the Obedient

[Leo]

The hair on the back of Dagger-2's neck stood up. He didn't give any impression that his senses were suddenly keenly aware of his surroundings. This was his fight or flight response. He didn't need to glance at Dagger-7 to notice that he was in much the same situation. Dagger-7 spoke first, his deep bassy voice echoing off the clean walls. "Don't know what you take us for friend, we're just Freelance inspectors sent by DSE to check out this here plant." A noble attempt, but something told Dagger-2 that this man knew exactly who they actually were. His suit was pressed, elegant, and not a single thing out of place. Everything had a purpose--a function. Even the cigar he smoked appeared to be perfectly rolled. His composure was clearly that of someone from wealth. Disappearing a nobody like Serrano in this situation would not be practical or efficient. Money could buy you power, and power got you certain privileges from those on high. This was a high stakes game with his career. He spoke of aliens and when he opened the chest, he felt his blood pressure elevate. He'd seen these in intelligence reports. Almost of them were inert--but here this one glowed with some otherworldly purpose. Based on his performative introduction, this "ORATOR" knew they were intelligence. However, Dagger-2 hoped that he didn't know which intelligence. Dagger-2 decided to play along but shift the narrative a bit. Thinking fast, he settled on a group he'd met in Kepler when he was a much younger agent. "Enough, LINGUIST" he said. Dagger-7 immediately fell into his LSF persona but kept it loose. Good ol Vard. Dagger-2's impressions of the wayward agent were improving steadily with every interaction they found themselves in. "He obviously knows we're Directive agents." he said referencing the old Freelance intelligence group he had once interacted with. The man knew they were intelligence but Dagger-2 hoped that he didn't quite know which one. This was his best option, the others were out of the question. "What's your business?" Dagger-7 said speaking up, the drawl in his voice gone, replaced by crisp and curt enunciations. He waved his hand in Dagger-2's direction. "ARDENT and I don't have time for games. We came here chasing Riegel, not whatever play you're acting out." Dagger-2 smirked despite the situation. The artifact glowing from the chest stilled that mirth, however. It was glowing a vibrant kaleidoscope of colors which appeared to shift into waveforms that couldn't be discerned by the human eye. Dagger-2 had seen artifacts in various reports over the years, but never an active one. They had to play this right and get this into their possession before things got out of hand. The technology they could develop from one active artifact would set them ahead of the other houses by decades if not longer. "Well? Spit it out." Dagger-2 said, clearly impatient.

---

You fear oblivion. Yet you forget. The universe remembers every atom of your being. Even dust hums your name in the dark.
Roleplay is dead. Long live Powertraders and PvP I guess.