The Chronicles of X.

[n00bl3t]

815 AS.

"I see why you do not trust yourself, yet you trust the ensign attached my ship so much." Anderson challenged X, in his private office. There were no guards present this time, just the Admiral and the Commodore. It was night, as decided by the rotation of Toledo.

The appointment had been secured with little fuss. Whilst many had to wait in line, his newly created reconnaissance and assassination overwatch fleet members took first priority.

"I see he has followed his orders, as they have been given." X responded, calmly. He understood her confusion, disbelief and anger.

"Given? Right." Anderson sighed. "He will be useful though. I have to admit, I did not think we had come that far."

"We haven't. Andraste Fionnlagh does not exist." X watched Anderson's confused face. "Well, in a way. He has a file. He has a rank. He exists on the physical plane. However, all information is false, and his real clearance is hidden behind a mask. He has no goals apart from those given to him, and believe me he will achieve those goals."

"I have no doubt about that." Anderson replied dryly. When she had last talked to Fionnlagh she realised why he was so essential to the mission. She decided to change the topic.

"So, what if that day does come?" Anderson probed, trying to reassure herself.

"Then do as you have been ordered to do. Locate. Eliminate. Survive." X repeated a phrase which he had coined.

Both of them sighed.

There was a buzz. It was for the door. One of the old-school security check's in place should the new ones fail. X pressed the button underneath his desk. He already knew who was at the door.

James Elias Turner came in and stood to attention. X nodded. Turner loosened his position.

"Sir, how can we trust her?" He started without warning or greeting. Two of them knew they were talking about Boehme. Anderson was in the dark, literally and metaphorically.

"Commodore Anderson, the person Commander Turner refers to is Elizabeth Boehme, an NCO aboard your ship. For now, all you need to know, is to trust her." X answered Anderson's thoughts. "You may leave now Commodore, you need your rest."

Anderson knew it was time to leave. She stood to attention, nodded, and strode out the door. She did not bother to turn to shut it quietly.

X leveled his gaze at Turner. Turner opened his mouth in slight shock, and then closed it again. He did not realise Anderson did not know.

"We do not trust anyone, Commander." The answer was so simplistic it would make most rack their minds. It meant to use whatever resources were available, but to be prepared to operate without that resource and be able to protect yourself from that resource.

Turner stood to attention and nodded. Then, he too strode out the door, but he turned to catch it and close it quietly. His question was answered, and he did not want to anger X.

Anderson went to the bar wondering what Boehme had up her sleeve. Turner went to bed, not being able to get sleep knowing what Boehme had up her sleeve. X lowered his gaze. His face relaxed. He knew all that he needed to, and soon he would know a lot more.

"Never put all your eggs in one basket. You are not the only chance for salvation TSF." X sat back in his chair with a cup of water in his left hand. It was almost freezing, but it did little to cool the fire burning in his mind. He was thinking, and that was the worst thing possible, for those who opposed him.

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Anything I say is not intended as offensive, and to try and deliberately misinterpret it as such would be an attempt at trolling via misrepresentation.

It's not a conspiracy, it's localised bias. They're not intelligent enough to form a conspiracy.