Fear What You Cannot See

Name: Cipher 91 Status: Active Location: Classified

[cipher-seven]

Ease of Mind

[cipher-seven]

By the time he turned off the steaming hot water, Cipher Seven sighed with content. The moisture had warmed his skin, soaking into his sore muscles and aching whirling machinery—he’d still need it to get repaired, of course; the freezing cold of Alderaan’s peaks hadn’t boded well with the metal ignots. But just the same; the pain had thankfully dulled to a distant lull. 

It wouldn’t be a problem.

The young man quickly slipped on his uniform, buttoning it loosely, before making his way towards the mess hall. Though the uniform lapels usually snapped together quite close to his throat, now it barely reached his collarbone, exposing his neck. No one was awake to see him, anyways.

No one, that is, except a very much awake agent currently standing in the middle of his kitchen. He stopped short of the entryway, strands of his ebony hair threatening to drop rivulets of water onto his clean uniform.

"Agent," he greeted curtly, rubbing the towel through his dripping hair. She was up early. Not entirely uncommon, but…odd just the same. She was looking at him carefully—guarded, perhaps. Or maybe surprised. Well…in any case, she isn’t exactly making it easy, not saying anything, he mused, irritated. The tinge of annoyance was new to him; it still unnerved him that he couldn’t quite tell what she was thinking. Yes. That was all it was.

He stood there observing her for a moment, the ever constant whirling hiss of his cybernetic eye zeroing in on her small stature. He didn’t know what to make of the Chiss. In part, he’d hardly said a word to her since she’d insisted on pestering him with those silly questions back at Headquarters.

Keeper knows what he’s doing, he wouldn’t just assign an ill-equipped, poorly skilled Cipher to trail after him—though…in the past… His mouth set into a slight frown. He wanted to go back into the shower.

His grey eye slid past her tiny form, settling instead on a steaming plate of…

…food. 

His eye widened slightly. Icahrus’ traitorous stomach rumbled in protest.

It smelled delicious.

[cipher-ninety-one]

"Agent, I didn't expect you out here so early," Lerisa said calmly, although she was having a hard time focusing her gaze on his eyes. He looked so...casual. It was odd. His uniform wasn't even buttoned up properly and with his hair still wet and messy...well, she was an easily distracted woman. 

She saw his gaze slide past her and to the food she had made and she couldn't help but smirk when she heard his stomach growl. So maybe he didn't love those Imperial rations as much as most Imperials tried to say they did. 

"Are you hungry? I made enough for the both of us," she smiled as she turned around to face the food. She had kept her voice warm, almost inviting in an attempt to show him that she was quite capable of being friendly and not just a typical stoic agent. He may not appreciate her efforts of think that it was a bad thing, but she was going to try anyway.

She moved half of the food she had made onto a different plate and slowly walked over to the table, putting the plate at his end. She smiled at him once more as she walked back over to the remaining food and picked up the plate. Now that she thought about it, maybe she should be slightly more concerned with her lack of clothing.  

Oh well. She doubted he even noticed anyway. 

[cipher-seven]

Ease of Mind

He awoke with a start.

His eyes snapped open and went wide, darting nervously around the blank walls of his room. He sucked in a short gasp and covered his face with his palms; blinking away his sleep and gulping back his dry throat. He felt disorientated and muddled, like time had skipped through the caverns of his mind and fiddled with his thoughts.

For a moment, he thought he was back in that place…

He rubbed away the cold sweat on his forehead and sat up, looking around his room and ensuring that everything was where it should be.

His nightmares had been so vivid recently. 

With a tired yawn, he glanced at his clock and winced when he realized he’d only managed three hours sleep. Icahrus had honestly thought that he would have managed to gain a little more rest considering how exhausted he’d been. But no. Evidently, his insomnia was here to stay. He sighed, regretfully.

It was pushing six in the already miserable morning, and he could already hear the methodical hum of the engines as the ship soared through space. He knew that it was futile to try and get any more sleep, so he slowly eased himself out of bed, grabbed his uniform, and headed for the shower.

Keeping as quiet as he could, he stepped out of his room and down the hallway, bare feet padding softly against the steel flooring. Without so much as glancing at the other agent’s temporary room, he quickly slipped into the bathroom, locking it securely behind him.

Shrugging off yesterday’s clothes, he muttered a sharp curse when his shoulder twinged in pain as he turned on the shower at a high heat. The skin around his left shoulder was marred and bruised—a permanent effect of the cybernetics implanted to keep his shoulder in place. The metal stretched almost to his collarbone, the skin around the edges now red with irritation. He’d have to get an augment replacement soon.

The agent turned to look at himself in the mirror, brushing strands of black hair away from his face and fingering the shadowy crescents under his eyes. There was too much torture on his face, and it was tucked into the creases of his permanent frown. He looked like a tracing-paper version of himself; paler and almost translucent. Like frosted glass.

The mirror started to steam so he turned away from his worrying reflection and released a content moan as the steamy water soothed his body. He closed his eye and stood under the waterfall of hot water, inhaling with a calming breath. He lathered his arms first, then his chiseled chest and flat stomach, and then bent down to wash the length of his legs.

This felt good. Like normality, and he basked in the sensations. He could feel his muscles easing and it was fleeting bliss, relaxing enough that he allowed his ever-crowded mind to cease thinking, if only to shield the memories of his nightmare. If only to forget that someone else—his partner—was sharing his ship for the next couple of weeks.

[cipher-ninety-one]

"Get up. It's nearly five in the morning."

"Mother..."

"Get up. I have things that I need to teach you today. It's already late."

"Mother, it's only five..."

"Up, Nesl'eris'ana."

Lerisa awoke sharply as those memories fluttered through her mind, jolting her from her dream. She should have gotten used to waking up like this every morning. That memory of her mother berating her was what always woke her up. She hated that memory. At least it was a decent alarm clock. 

With a sigh, Lerisa pushed her blankets off of her and stretched, letting the cold air hit her skin. It was another jolt she needed to wake herself up. When she was finally comfortable with the cold air, she slipped out of the bed and let her feet hit the ground without a sound. She didn't bother wrapping herself in a robe or anything similar. 

Lerisa carefully walked out of the room and down the hallways of the unfamiliar ship, glancing around as she did so. Everything about Cipher Seven's ship was different than her own, even if it was the same model. The engines hummed slightly different, the air was a few degrees warmed than how she liked it. Even the lights and the color of the ship seemed slightly off to her. 

The Chiss woman glanced in the direction of her partner's room and stopped for a moment, approaching the door. She could hear no sounds from inside. No snoring, no shifting, not even subtle breathing. He must have been awake already. If he was, that impressed her. Not many people woke up earlier than she did. 

Sighing as she thought of Cipher Seven, Lerisa made her way to the kitchen and began to prepare breakfast. She hated Imperial ration bars. They tasted like dirt. She always preferred to eat something more substantial in the morning. She doubted Cipher Seven would appreciate the meal, though. 

[cipher-seven]

A Chance Meeting

[cipher-seven]

"I’ve read your file, Cipher," he said rather curtly, eyes taking in every minute detail as they walked—the glaring lights, the slight tick of the datapads in every Imperial hand, the shifting gear of the guards as they slumped their shoulders against impending exhaustion ever so slightly…

"Hutta, Kaas City, Tatooine, Nar Shaddaa…" He clenched his jaw as his shoulder gave a particularly painful twinge. He needed a shower. "Whether by luck or skill, you’re certainly capable enough to handle your own." 

Icahrus stopped rather suddenly in the middle of the hallway, his cybernetic eye fixing on his target. If she was at all surprised by his sharp stop she didn’t show it. The agent looked so much smaller when he was standing in front of her—her head barely reached his shoulders—but she was looking up at him almost…defiantly.

But that doesn’t matter, he mused tiredly.

"However, whatever Keeper believes you can help achieve on this mission, I don’t want or have need for a partner." His grey eye narrowed dangerously. "I work alone."

[cipher-ninety-one]

The way he turned on her took Lerisa by surprise, but she refused to show it. In fact, all she did was step a little closer to him and glare up at him with. She kept her head high and she would have glared at him if she thought he would be able to tell. Humans had a hard time telling what Chiss eyes were doing most of the time. 

"I assure you, Cipher, that was not luck. That was all skill. I am a damn good agent whether you think I am or not, but I will not waste my time trying to prove myself to you. I will do my job to the best of my ability, and you are free to make your own judgments or not." She kept her focus on his face and on his eyes, even the cybernetic one. 

She could see the tenseness of his body, how he favored one side over the other, how he kept one shoulder far more tensed up than the other. He was in pain, although he was doing a good job of hiding it. She didn't know if that was one of the reasons he was being so sharp and overly defensive towards her, but she wasn't going to make life any harder on him than it had to be. Her job as his partner was to make sure things went smoothly and better than they would than if he was alone. She intended to make sure that happened. 

Lerisa walked away from him for a few steps before she turned around slowly to face him. "I'll see you on your ship, Cipher," she said quickly as she was walking off once more. He may not like it, but he was stuck with her now. 

[cipher-seven]

A Chance Meeting

[cipher-seven]

At her words, he shifted his attention 

"Partner…" Icahrus echoed. His voice held a deadly calm as he looked at the small agent. He didn’t need a partner. He could handle whatever mission Keeper handed to him on his own. This…woman would do nothing but slow him down.

Yet, regardless of his thoughts, the young man gave a sharp nod. It was pointless to argue. He knew, simply by the offset of Keeper’s shoulders, and the pointed look he managed to flash Icahrus’ way, that he wouldn’t relent to a solo mission. 

He wanted to convince Keeper to assign this girl elsewhere.

"My ship’s in hangar four," he said, instead, eyes returning sharply to the other agent. "We leave in one hour—" Icahrus accepted the briefing Keeper held out to him and turned on his heel, saying over his shoulder, "grab your equipment and meet there without delay."

He would be alone again, soon enough.

[cipher-ninety-one]

The smaller agent made a soft sound of frustration in the back of her throat and jogged after the other Cipher, slowing to a walk when she caught up to him. She didn't say anything for a few moments, instead falling into step beside him. His stride was long and she had to stretch out her shorter legs to keep up. His pace was brisk and he continued looking forward, not even glancing in her direction. 

Staying at his side gave her a good view of his profile, and she was willing to admire him in silence. The more she looked at him, the more she noticed little things about him. The sharpness of his gray eyes, the structure of his cheekbones, the stubble that dusted his chin. He certainly was intriguing to look at, that was certain. 

"You don't like me very much, do you? Or you at least don't expect me to last for very long," Lerisa stated. It wasn't a question, really. More of a statement of fact. 

She could tell that he didn't have faith in her capabilities. He didn't think she would cut it in the field, that she would slow him down or get him caught or something silly like that. She guessed she didn't really blame him. She was rather young to be a Cipher. But she was no rank amateur. She would prove to him that she was just as good as he was.

[cipher-seven]

A Chance Meeting

[cipher-seven]

Icahrus paused at the door, his grey eye landing on the other agent in the room. A different agent. 

No, this agent was nothing like Cipher Forty-three. She was small, petite in both stature and visible weaponry—where Cipher Forty-three resembled a bundle of dynamite set to detonate (he had no idea why Keeper let that disorganized filth become a cipher agent) this agent was quiet, her eyes studying him just as he studied her.

She was pretty, he decided, though that fact did little to dissuade his opinion of her. Most cipher agents held a degree of exotic charm to entice their targets into revealing information. The red eyes and deep blue skin would certainly please a variety of their victim demographic. His lips twitched as her fingers released around her knife. 

As if that would stop him. 

"Cipher Ninety-one. Pleased to meet you." Her voice was light, steady, almost calm. There was a quiver in the reverberations, a slight hitch as her tongue rolled over the words—she was anxious to leave.

He said nothing in return.

"Ah, Cipher Seven, do come in," Keeper’s voice was a welcome distraction.

"The report for the Alderaan site." He said it quietly, his voice a deadpan of cold indifference. 

"Well done, Cipher." Keeper’s voice was a notch higher than usual. "I trust there were no complications with the assignment?" Icahrus glanced at the small agent again and back to their leader. The Keeper’s voice lacked a certain clipped air—he was going to send him on another mission.

The Rodian was dead. The guards had been alerted. Icahrus had managed to slip away from the site without drawing attention, leaving nothing but a ghostly fog in his wake. All was well…until it had started to rain. His shoulder still ached from the lingering cold. 

Old wounds never quite healed, it seemed.

Icahrus’ jaw tightened. “None, sir.” 

The young man clasped his hands behind his back, straightening his back and widening his stance to a common Imperial salute. “What’s my assignment, sir?” 

"Not just your assignment, Cipher Seven," Keeper nodded curtly at the smaller agent, and Icahrus resisted the urge to sigh. "Cipher Ninety-one will accompany you."

[cipher-ninety-one]

Lerisa forced herself to bite her tongue and not say anything. She hated being ignored. That was one of her biggest annoyances. But she had prepared herself for this and how he would react to her. Preparing for one thing and facing it were two entirely different things. 

The way he brushed past her without caring, without even glancing it her direction...she hated to admit it, but that almost hurt. She had never been so easily ignored. Most men took a double look at her, with her exotic hair color and skin and well shaped body. But this man was practically looking right through her, almost like she wasn't even there. 

She watched as he spoke to Keeper, handed him his report with such sharpness his movements cut through the air. It was obvious that he was strong and capable. One had to be to be an agent, after all. But to carry the scars he did, deal with the cybernetic implants that were obvious on his body...that took a special kind of strength.

"I am to be your partner for this mission, Cipher Seven," Lerisa replied coolly, clenching her fists tightly. She could tell from the way he looked over her and the way he looked at Keeper that the other Cipher didn't expect her to last long. That was to be expected with his track record with other agents, after all. She wasn't them, however. 

[cipher-seven]

A Chance Meeting

tick. tick. tick.

The trees surrounding the edge of the cabin were pine, a thin line of them right around the perimeter, as if it had been designed like a permanent border that even a glimpse of society couldn’t penetrate. He looked up at the sky, cold and quite foreboding above, threatening rain—or more likely, given the temperature, snow—the clouds rolling across the sky as if they were trying to beat him to his target. He pressed on through the trees.

The ground beneath his feet was solid, hardened by the cold with only the crunch of dead leaves to accompany his foot falls.

tick. tick. tick.

The trees grew thicker, closer together, the bracken that wound between them denser as he made his way further past the branches, constantly alert for any sounds of wandering guards. Icahrus shifted his rifle with cold fingers, his grey eye flitting forwards to count the steps to his destination.

tick. tick. tick.

He’d expected guards when he approached the cabin, perhaps some kind of alarm system, although so far—ah there they were.

Four guards. Two windows. A side entrance. Eight claw traps. Seven cryo mines. Semi-automatic rifles. They were shifting against the wind.

tick. tick. tick. 

Time passed slowly. Suddenly he began to hear voices. His blood seemed to pick up its pace in his veins, anticipation gaining more and more with each step. He concentrated on that rhythm, slowing his breathing, allowing his boots to slide silently through the foliage. Once the cabin was just a few feet ahead, he stopped and slipped down against the ground, under the cover of an old, decaying oak.

It was so familiar; the butt of his rifle set firm against his shoulder, the whirling tick of his cybernetic eye as it zeroed in on his target, the cold grass seeping moisture into his jacket.

tick. tick. tick.

He blocked it out. He blocked it all out.

His heart slowed against the inside of his rib cage, and he breathed, steadily and without hesitation—in, out, in, out—raising his eyes to what lay beyond the boundary. There were shapes in the house; shadowy figures that seemed to disturb the air from where they stood. He breathed in deep, tightening his grip on his sniper rifle—his finger settled over the trigger. 

There he was. The Rodian’s heat signature was far lower than any other in the room. Cipher Seven breathed. In. Out.

In. 

A resounding shot sliced through the cold, winter air. 

Out.

The Rodian fell dead to the floor. 

~~~~~

The door was open a crack when he reached the Keeper’s office, and he could hear voices inside, and what sounded rather a lot like the hum of machinery. Evidently another agent had arrived and was already getting briefed. He would just turn in his collection of documents and be on his way. 

His shoulder ached.

Icahrus exhaled slowly, conscious that there was two Imperial Fixers watching him rather curiously. He could feel their eyes settle on his scars, could feel them rake him up and down in an assessing, critical sort of way. It didn’t matter. They’d be gone soon enough, anyway.

His fingers tightened, his leather gloves creaking in protest. The door hissed open. 

[cipher-ninety-one]

Lerisa stood stiffly as she listened to Keeper's briefing, trying her hardest to keep herself focused. She hated wearing her Imperial uniform, how itchy it was. She hated Keeper's office and the glaring colors that hurt her sensitive eyes and the constant whirring of machines that made it so hard for her to focus.

She longed for the silence of her room, her ship, or even the atmosphere she held when she was on a job. On a job she could embrace silence, embrace darkness, and truly be herself. No pretending to be the perfect agent. No having to act on her best behavior and be the stoic, cold and calculating tool the Empire wanted. When she walked into Intelligence headquarters, she had to suppress herself. It was something she could hardly stand.

Just a little bit longer, Lerisa. Just long enough for you to meet this mysterious other agent.

The thought wasn't exactly comforting. 

She had no problems working with other agents. She had done it on many occasions with varying degrees of success. What worried her the most was how Keeper had stressed that even her patience might be pushed to its limit with this agent and that many other agents had refused to work with him because of his personality. That was the only thing that worried her. 

"Agent, are you paying attention?" Keeper's clipped voice broke the small agent out of her thoughts and she nodded sharply, clamping her hands together tighter behind her back. 

"Of course, sir. I-" she paused when she heard the door hiss open and turned around quickly, her hand already on her knife. It was a silly reaction, she knew. Nobody hostile would be able to just waltz through Intelligence headquarters and make it all the way to Keeper's office. It was simply habit. Then again, she had made the mistake of being over-confident and lax before. With how that had turned out....well, it was safe to say that she would never make that mistake again. 

She took a minute to look over the man in the doorway, accessing him quickly. He was tall for a human, at least a couple of heads taller than her. His hair was dark and neatly kept, and she looked over the various cybernetics that covered his face. She had read the report, of course, but a lot of information was classified even to her. He was quite handsome, for a human. Lerisa released her knife and nodded at the man in the doorway before speaking. 

"Cipher Ninety-one. Pleased to meet you." 

[cipher-ninety-one]

Intelligence Profile: Nesl'eris'ana

Name: Nesl'eris'ana (Lerisa) Gender: Female Species: Chiss Age: 20 (Uncomfirmed) Likes: Having fun, succeeding in her missions, sincerity, patriotic spirit Dislikes: Selfishness, murder for no purpose, inefficiency Primary Weapon: Vibroknife Secondary Weapon: Blaster rifle Background (Summary): Daughter of former agent, Minder 59. Born and raised on Dromund Kaas. Started unofficial Intelligence training at an exceptionally young age and passed all required tests with flying colors. Became an active field agent at the age of 18 and has became a Cipher at the age of 19 due to incredible talent.  Personality: Extremely patriotic and loyal to the Empire, although has a distaste for violence. Is very efficient in the field and is willing to kill if the job requires it. Has never once done anything that would put the Empire in risk, no matter what she had to do.  Notes: Extremely loyal, but aversion to killing could become a problem. Watch carefully. 

[quotestuff]

People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar.

Thich Nhat Hanh (via thoughtsforbees)

[ukw-n-deactivated20141123]

Keep your relationship private without keeping your partner a secret. There’s a difference between privacy and secrecy.

(via lifeissatisfactory)

My friend needs to learn this one

(via thatqueerkid)