Tales of the Future
Intelligence 2: Bureaucracy 3, Linguistics [Chinese] 1
Wits 4: Meditation 2, Rapport 2
Charisma 3: Etiquette 1, Savvy 3
Mindshare 3: CLASSIFIED
Psychbending 3: CLASSIFIED
Backgrounds: Contacts 1, Device 2 [“Psi Crown”], Influence 5, Resources 3, Status [Ministry] 3
Gear: Orgotek Iris-L II Enhancer Gauntlet, Custom Memory Impulse Survey Instrument [“Psi Crown”], Custom Black Ministry Uniform, Field Suit [1/3], Bioweave Armor [2/3], Vocoder, Minicomp
(Classified information requires Second Department, Bureau Three clearance while agent remains in code black field operations*)*
Initial Ministry log: Field Deployment
This is my opening log to document assignment into Second Deparment field operations. Maximum security clearance code black for the Office of Security. Ministry education does not include information on these operations. I have not spoken with my associates since my assignment and may need to depart without doing so. I will create a story later, but there are other concerns now; I need equipment, I need research, and my contacts need a lot of time or a lot of money. The news is the only resource up to this point on Luna’s operations and those are too political. Unreliable.
The assignment involves a full brief on your agent ranking. Your whole life is put before your eyes and you get a score based on all other Ministry Agents ever in existence. Then you are ranked based on all agents. Even if they’re dead. They wouldn’t rank a dead person unless they have something to hide. Their rank could never increase, unless they weren’t dead.
It was like ancient stories of god and death. Your life flashes before your eyes, with holo-vids where they were recorded, and then you receive your crown. Mine was bigger than I was expecting, but there is no sense of satisfaction now that I know how many were before me that were much more than I am. The universe is a much larger and more dangerous place, and I feel as if I’ve been reborn… again. Death does not concern me, but each birth seems more painful than any death I could imagine.
They had footage on my last birth. You try to forget, like they say about natural childbirth, that your mind overcomes the physical pain and pushes it from your mind. But when the birth is your mind there is no reprieve. It was quiet, but I know there was screaming. Even your mind can scream.
They had news footage on my first assignment once my training was complete. There were many commentators and none could agree. All were horrified, some at the terrorists and many at me. They all cringed, as if to protect themselves from my influence through the vid.
They also had on site footage. I should have expected to be monitored at every step. You could hear the call, my footsteps as I made my way to the school, and the effortless move past the local authorities. The muffled cries of the children were just as I remembered, but the tears in their eyes, the fear, them shying away from me as much as the terrorist, all that I missed. I was not a rescuer; I was another threat.
The terrorist (i still do not wish to know who he was) completely trusted me every step. The conversation, our “escape” throught the school, the last moments standing outside the school looking out at all the newsies and civilians. There was a lot of different clips of the gunshot. It was shown over and over. Me taking the gun from my belt, bringing up to his temple, and firing. My white uniform and cloak were transformed by his brain matter and blood. And then I was gone. I turned and moved on without so much as looking at the body. The hostages were not my responsibility, and I was no coroner, but still it looked so callous even to me. Some said I was an ice woman, many referred to fire and ice (some ancient poem). They were all afraid. That is probably why they are sending me to space. I should fit right in.