Spies Like Us [FT; Closed]

[Thrashia]

Chatto System | Greater Imperium of Pikasistani


The ship was, by most standards, a piece of junk. It was hobbled together with pieces of technology ranging from over a dozen star nations; Thrashian, Dornalian, Solarian, Olimpiadan, and Pikasistani to name but a few. It was the type of vessel that most would expect only in the poorest of systems, commissioned by the local authorities to haul consignments between deep space or orbital facilities, because the idea of trusting it's hull integrity to repeated atmospheric reentry seemed chancy at best. Though, for all of it's ugliness, the Wealth of Kings was undoubtedly sturdier than she looked. It's crew were next to nonexistent, all droids or jury-rigged crew-replacement programs.

For the past six months the Wealth of Kings had been hauling food and water packages from wholesalers to their clients. Glorified milk runs that paid for the docking fees and those bits of necessary elements that helped the "cosmopolitan" engine to run. First from minor worlds where agriculture seemed to be their primary export to major systems, such as Chatto and Port Umbra. The authorities had initially halted the vessel upon it's initial entry into the Greater Imperium. However, thanks to it's captain being standard homo sapiens and having an Olimpiadan trade credentials, it was fairly easy to then register and receive similar papers for the Greater Imperium.

Captain Christopher Kasler still had to send a QE-message to the immigration official on the planet itself, but he decided he'd do that once he docked with the orbital station known as Chatto-VI Orbital. The price for a temporary merchant's visa wasn't exorbitant, but it was still a price -- and not one that he could miss the deadline for. No good excuses, when he'd simply spent the last forty-eight hours using minimal sublight speed to travel through the Chatto system to deliver another cargo hold full of processed food stuffs to a mining colony in the outer system's asteroid belt.

With only a few short transmissions with the station's control room, he soon had a docking bay ready for his own use.

"Any chance of a discount for repeat business, Control?" he asked.

The connection fizz-crackled for a heartbeats. A laugh echoed.

"Not a chance 'Wealth of Kings'. Especially with a name like yours!"

"Tell me a joke I haven't already heard, you bloodsuckers," Kasler replied back good-naturedly into the connection. "Confirmed for docking bay seventy-two. Wealth of Kings, out."

He cut the line and focused on piloting into the correct approach vector that would give him access to the docking bay he'd gotten. The wait times for a docking bay at this particular station wasn't too long and the staff were fairly efficient for a commercial facility. He'd chosen it as his primary base of operations because it was owned by the third largest mercantile family in the system.

Chris checked his uplink to the local digital information network. He'd opened up a profile and posted in the 'Wanted' section, advertising his ship and the speeds at which he could deliver goods, at what costs, and at what volume. His initial runs had been made off of small companies that had decided to use his ship because the price undercut what they usually paid to ship things around. But he could only do that sort of thing for so long until one of the larger, established shipping companies started to notice. Competition was competition and there were ways of dealing with it. He'd already been asked by a few of the more seedy shipping companies to join them as a new hire, but he'd been stalling them. There were other independent operators of course, but they seemingly didn't last long. Not in the bigger, more flourishing systems anyway.

Once the ship landed in the docking bay Chris stepped through the ship to find a skeletal-like droid waiting by the exit airlock and down ramp.

"Master Kasler, I p-presume you will be gone for another full standard cycle?"

"Yeah, K2, I will. Make sure to keep the ship locked and only open up for me. Still having trouble with your voice modulator?"

"P-Perhaps if you p-payed a p-proper mechanic or engineer to fix me then this wouldn't be a p-problem," the droid replied, managing to sound waspish even with a monotone voice.

"I'll keep that in mind, K2," Kasler smiled and stepped out of his ship. He had a meeting with another two clients at the local spacers cantina, both of whom were looking for cheap inter-system shipping. Then it was time for an interview with the immigration officer that had been assigned to him. Just a few more loops to jump through and he might be able to freely travel not only throughout the Greater Imperium, but also even get to land and enjoy some fresh, non-recycled air for a bit.

And carry out his mission, he supposed.

[Pikasistan]

Cor Imperii
Chatto system, Magnam Imperii ec Pikasis

58,6 billions souls inhabited a system that, despite not being the Throne World, both urbanized worlds within the Chatto-system were equally vital to the continued prosperity of the Magnam Imperii than the Tepui-laden planet. Each years, the system furnished sextillions of Nummis in taxes, billions of soldiers and uncounted tons of manufactured goods which were used across the borders of the rising nation. This rapid rise of the "Greater Imperium of Pikasistan", an exologism employed by most of the nations across the galaxy, showed that the nation was particularly isolated within the astropolitical scene, few nations being as brave on their policies regarding xenoi, one only shared by half of it's allies and none of its other partners. The change in rulers also marked a change of era, were the first emperors and empresses of Pikasistan had built a strong empire, only Laelys's reign could be one of extra-sectorial relations. Indeed, whilst the previous rulers were either constrained to the nation itself, or to the Pentus sector itself, only interacting with a handful of nations that existed in the wild spaces of the betan sector, the young ruler understood the importance of showing to the galaxy that there was an alternative to co-existence with xenoi, to the naïve galactic nations who had been weathering cataclysm after cataclysm because of their inter connectivity. She followed the footsteps of her father, consolidating the Pikasistani grasp on the Borealum provincaes and extending a friendly hand to other human dominated nations. Some joined their forces in the Compact, including Olimpiada, the sister-state of the Imperii, but also new allies such as the Menschlicher Sternenstaat and the People's Republic of Sinica, others had reciprocated the effort and initiated trade, such as the Aumanii and others only saw it as an opportunity to keep their rival in check...

Such were the Thrashians, traditional hegemon of the Beta Quadrant, which saw trade relations with the Pikasistani as a way to monitor the expansion of a contender to their rule. The Thrashians weren't in the wrong, the Magnam Imperii had made its expansionist nature clear and almost came to blows with the Thrashian navy in the Pharos Conflict about a decade earlier, both nations trying to secure a source of seemingly unlimited energy. Whilst the Pikasistani were aware of the risk posed by letting their rival enter their state, various means had been employed to try to minimize their grasp on information, including rigorous scans and dissuasive paperwork. However, once those security mesures were completed, the Thrashians were able to enjoy a relatively normal life in Pikasistani Space, few only being screened for surveillance by the Arcani at the border.

This meant that Captain Kasler would be able to explore both the exotic Laecia and the eponymous world of Chatto. Both worlds had long lost their alimentary autonomy, the billions of inhabitants requiring far more food than the world could ever wish to produce and what little remained of agriculture in the system was usually owned by the richest Pikasistani nobles which chose the system, mostly growing luxury foods and owning vineyards at the summit of colossal arcologies which littered both worlds. However, unlike most of metropolitan worlds across the galaxy, both Chatto and Laecia had relatively homogeneous populations, mostly being inhabited by either Pikasistan or, in rarer but still notable instances, Olimpiadans.

However, there was on more step between the wonders of the megalopolitan worlds of Chatto and the Thrashian hauler. Customs inspections, because of course the Pikasistani were quite wary of strangers, especially those which traveled from a seemingly hostile nation with a droid, as decrepit as it may look. This was probably the most annoying part of the job of the Wealth of Kings, to get through the byzantine bureaucracy of the Magnam Imperii, one that was specifically made to dissuade foreigners from massively immigrating in the core of the Greater Imperium, whilst encouraging them to venture in the far territories of Imperium Delta.

[Thrashia]

Orbital Imperii ec Pikasis Immigration Offices | Chatto

"Like I said for the fourth time, I'm Olimpiadan," Christopher Kasler said, semi-aggressively pointing down at the identification documents and trade credentials that showed him to be a citizen of that star nation. His accent was also one that any Pikasi should recognize as being Olimpiadan -- after all, he'd spent months perfecting it. "The ship itself may be Thrashian, but I'm not. I bought it from a wholesaler near the Solarian Reaches."

The immigration officer seemed overly pained by this pronouncement. Things were obviously not in order, and when things were not in order then the tiny world that most bureaucrats lived in became chaotic. It was enough to make the poor man apoplectic in a slightly hissy, demure fashion. The man sighed, looking at the documents that Kasler had provided and the permits that had thus far been issued to him. Apparently some pen-pusher had decided that since his ship was from one nation that he himself was from that nation as well. But it wasn't this guy's mistake, which meant it had to have been Kasler's. "Well sir, I'm afraid you'll have to resubmit your application. I'll issue you a temporary, three month visa for planet-side travel. Your work visa remains in effect for the next eight months. You can resubmit within one week. Please follow the designated instructions outside this office, pay the appropriate filing fees and visa fees, and things will go smoother next time."

Kasler grimaced and curled his lip in disgust.

"You really can't just fix it now?"

"No, sir."

"Really?"

"Yes, sir."

Kasler bit off the retort he had been working up and mentally sighed. It wouldn't benefit him to chew the head off an unimaginative immigration officer. He smiled a real big, shit-eating grin, picked up his documents, took the proffered temporary visa and then walked out of the office. The fact that no one was hurt and that his sidearm remained in it's buttoned holster was a sign of just how magnanimous and forgiving a person he was. He did get some small satisfaction in making a rude hand gesture at the flashing posters that had slogans like "Immigrate to the Frontier, Today!" on it. In the end, he wasn't truly dissatisfied. He had his temporary visa after all. There was a lot he could do with three months time. The first being a meeting with his "old" friend, a local shipping magnate that he'd gotten his first offers from for shipping goods around the system and between Chatto and Port Umbra.

He went back to Wealth of Kings and prepped the ship. After a short talk with the orbital control staff he had his descent vectors and coordinates to a landing bay at one of the smaller spaceports. He didn't want to pay exorbitant fees for landing rights, after all.


Archicologia-02 | Planet Chatto

Whatever it's officially designation, the locals called it "Aurelia". Kasler wasn't sure of where the name stemmed from, though he'd heard enough Sol-origin languages to know it likely stemmed back to old Earth. How far and wide had the species of that single planet wandered, prospered, and spread. No wonder, thought Kasler, [/i]that some non-homo sapiens species call humanity a "plague upon the universe"[/i].

There were districts and divisions within the city. Kasler wandered through them, making sure that he stayed within areas that did not have a high criminal element, but neither those that were too wealthy and would make him stick out like a sore thumb. He had changed into a nondescript bodysuit worn by many spacers and merchants, cut to a style that was popular among Pikasi citizens. He observed everything. The way people walked, the way they greeted one another, the way they argued, the tones they took when greeting those of intimate or familial relations as opposed to strangers. He found interest in the stores and small shops that lined streets, watching those areas where children played freely or scampered about. He observed police and other officials who walked about in uniform. The propaganda displays and such that was considered 'informative' or 'educational' by the authorities that be. He stopped by a bank and exchanged a digital payment cheque for cash.

He found a hotel near the spaceport where he landed and reserved a room. It was small and utilitarian, which suited those that were merely passing through on business and not for an extended stay. He'd perhaps make an effort to find an apartment, or even a real home, somewhere in the city in a week or two. He stopped his wandering in the early evening, coming to a public library. Kasler had always liked books, true books -- and not the digital copies that most read on datapads; he wondered if they had real books here.

After spending a few hours browsing a few books, they had mostly digital files and only a few 'true' books. The librarian mentioned that upon the capital world of the Pikasi Imperii there was a great library. Kasler decided he'd like to go and see it someday.

[Pikasistan]

Chatto-VI Orbital, Magnam Imperii ec Pikasis

The Olimpiadan in front of Silvius was an odd one. Fluent greek, perfect accent, heck even proper mannerism you'd expect from one of them, yet there was something off, and he could feel it. Despite speaking like an Olimpiadan, he was speaking like someone from the higher classes, someone which would know better than to patch up his ship in such a crude arrangement of parts coming from a plethora of human nations across the stars. However, despite all of those suspicious traits, all he could do was to keep Kasler planetside, feigning some administrative error, a typical stratagem used by Pikasistani customs in those rare cases, and that is what he did. At the end of the day however, it was he and he alone that bore the administrative responsibilities for his actions, and his colleague, Selena, wasn't the most convincing of witnesses.

"Silvius, in my office, now", said the head administrator of the Orbital as the immigration officer was entering his lunch break. Silvius sighed, for once he had a chance of getting one of the good rations at the cantine, but his good work was going to be rewarded by some scolding by his boss and with some of the affordable, yet fade of taste, algae-based rations.

"Yes sir", he replied, not trying to aggravate the mood of the short tempered administrator, making due haste to his office, the door shutting down behind him. Shit, this didn't look good at all, he might as well resign and save himself the embarrassment of being fired.

However, what would happen next would surprise the bureaucrat very much. "I've read your report Silvius... and honestly, I think you might be into something."

"I pro- Wait, you agree sir?"

"Yes, and I must command you for your vigilance. We've been having a hard time tracking Thrashian attempts to spy on us for a while... they have grown wiser and we probably have let a few slip since they shifted their methods. But this one, I don't think Selena or some of the other, less perspective agents would have managed to figure out something was off."

"Thank you sir, but he's still heading off planetside, the damage is likely already done."

"Thankfully, you are wrong, I have a few contacts in the Arcani, a bit too complicated to explain, but I can assure you the dossier is already in their hand and if there's anything dirty he's planning, I can assure you they'll find it. Now, go back to your break, and act like I screamed at you for being some kind of nuisance, wouldn't want to raise alarms, don't we."

"Aye sir, thank you."

---

Archicologia-17, Chatto

Life as an agent of the Arcani was one of loneliness, you couldn't say anything to your family and it made it extremely difficult to form any meaningful bond of attachment with someone else. That was probably the most painful drawback of the vocation Claudius Leviarii, yet it was all worth in the end. He was not a man of praise, but he was loyal to the very end to the Imperium and working in the shadows to protect the ideals he believed in and swore to defend since his very first years was his honor and duty. However, this evening was not dedicated to his task, no in fact he was in a tavern in the lower levels of the city. The alcohol was closer to disinfectant than anything proper, but if you had minimal knowledge of the booze served, you knew whiskey was the safest bet. If there was a single thing that was more adaptable than Mankind after all, it had to be rye. The cereal, albeit awful in comparison to its peers, was the only one which didn't seem to care if it was growing in regolith, iron dirt or fertile mulch and it ultimately had its purpose for settlers in the outer colonies as a cheap and somewhat lucrative terraforming crop for the massive rotation agrohabitats as they kept being built to sustain the ever growing Imperium. Speaking of which, his glass was now empty.

"Hey, Penelope.", he said to the barmaid, his favorite as she was still too new to figure out she was giving him far too much alcohol for his money, "I'll take another dear."

The barmaid smiled, after all he wasn't the worst client she had to endure and he tipped decently. She reached for the bottle which was a little high for her despite her wedges, making her grunt in annoyance, maybe she should keep the bottle lower if he was to stay around. She poured the poor man's ambrosia in the faux-crystal glass only to find the man had left. Well, at least he payed, yet it was still a bit frustrating when it happened. What a strange Ministry of Agriculture clerk...

---

Officio Arcani HQ, Archicologia-03

It took less than an hour for Claudius to travel the to other side of the continent for this meeting, barely giving him time to sober up. Seriously, this had to be important if it was to ruin his entire evening. The hyperloop arrived in the terminal of the higher levels of the arcology, where the headquarters were located and almost as much time to pass through the gates of the so-called "Ministry of Agriculture" building, extensive security protocols taking most of the time as always.

However, he did ultimately arrive to the briefing room, straightening his clothes as he passed the doorway. "You know I had to travel the whole continent for this right?!", he said, visibly irritated to have had his plans for the evening ruined.

His partner Menelos however was quite enthusiastic about this. "Calm down Leviarii", he said with his usual nonchalance, "this thing saved me from a very boring evening with my brother, you know t-"

"Yeah, I know the one which builds models with matchsticks, you really need another story, we all know you don't have a brother."

"Can we begin?", a third voice said, interrupting the banter between the two, "We had word of a suspicious arrival in system from Chatto-VI Orbital about two hours ago, spotted by a particularly talented customs officer."

"And? We get those all the time, usually it ends up being some Aumani or Gods-know-which citizen trying to get a visa because they think we have better social benefits or something around those lines."

"Yes, that would be the case...", she pauses, "However, this time we have reasons to believe it's a Thrashian spy."

"Are you kidding, the Thrashii are barely able to do a decent job when they show up, that's why they stopped bothering to try entering by the Core Worlds.", replied Menelos, laughing at the idea that a Thrashian could ever succeed to pass a customs inspection.

The screen lit up, showing various video feeds and pictures taken at the Orbital, alongside a complete series of documents and IDs which made the middle aged men stop his mocking. "This is your target gentlemen, we have reasons to believe he's not the first one that managed to slip through our fingers and if the intel is right, he could allow us to dismantle the whole network they probably managed to build, although I don't expect it."

"So standard filature?", Leviarii asked, leaning into his chair as he began to chew on a second gum, the first one no longer able to hide the smell of alcohol in his breathe.

"Affirmative, last informations indicates he's somewhere in the lower levels of Archicologia-02."

"Fucking hell", he mumbled, "You know I hate this hole..."

The briefing --which turned into a full blown meeting-- lasted another 45 minutes of pure boredom, Leviarii trying his best not to roll his eyes or yawn as all that was told was basic standard protocol which barely ever worked anyways to finally leave the room, tilting his head backwards and sighing loudly before straightening himself back, his old partner giving him a tap on the shoulder.

"You know Claudius, you'll have to move on at some point, you can't leave those family issues of yours get in the way of your job, as much as you despise your brother and as much as internal affairs were on your ass because of him."

"Yeah, I know, but this place is just awful in general... the upper levels are mostly owned by corrupt Olimpiadan oligarchs and the lower levels are dubious at best."

"What do you mean, dubious? You never went to Laecia's A-07 didn't you?"

"Of course I did... but at least the criminal network there has the decency of not having a single member of my family in its ranks...", he concludes, dismissively before going inside the washroom, trying to get some peace an quiet for once. He knew what Menelos was about to say to him, that his brother was an asset for this, that despite being highly placed in one of the major crime syndicates of the planet could help him gather intel and generally mess with the spy's intentions, whatever they might be, yet he would have hoped that someone else could take care of this, just this once so he could return to the bar, get wasted and then pass out watching a Sinican soap opera in his living room.