End of the Beginning
Sept 16, 2014 4:35:12 GMT
Caitlin Cockfoster, Roy Greenheart, and 1 more like this
Post by Faolan Skye on Sept 16, 2014 4:35:12 GMT
"The Queen won't be happy about this." Alistair said, from his seat across the room from Skye's desk. The office wasn't particularly large, so the two could communicate quite effectively across the brief gap.
Skye nodded, from his seat on the edge of his desk. There was a glass of fine scotch in his hand, but he hadn't taken a sip yet. Things like this weighed on him a bit more than they seemed to weigh on Alistair. He noted how little the man had left in his own glass. "Perhaps better to leave her in the dark for now. At least until we're sure."
"And you don't believe our friend in the basement?" Alistair laughed and took another sip of his scotch, shaking his head.
The basement was what he commonly referred to the cells under the old barracks. Skye wasn't so fond of the name, but then that's why he'd appointed the man to head of intelligence. Skye supposed his morals just weren't comfortable with such a thing, but his hands were just as dirty, he knew better than to think he could claim no knowledge of such things. Whatever Alistair did down there would inevitably be his responsibility.
"We need more proof if we are to put Lodan on a footing for war again. Lodan still bares her scars from the last war, it's too soon." Skye sighed, he was arguing with an immovable point. The man they'd captured in the woods, the one who had tried to blow up Lodan with his strange machine, had admitted his true purpose, and arguing with Alistair wasn't going to change that revelation. He downed the Scotch in one gulp and pushed himself off the desk. "All right, call whatever officers are available to the conference room. The ones we can trust not to run their mouths. There's only one way to confirm this, and that's a recon mission. If they are building up for war, we need to know about it."
Alistair nodded and finished his own drink. He set it gently back onto the small cart, adjusted his uniform, offered a crisp salute, and was gone.
Skye nodded, from his seat on the edge of his desk. There was a glass of fine scotch in his hand, but he hadn't taken a sip yet. Things like this weighed on him a bit more than they seemed to weigh on Alistair. He noted how little the man had left in his own glass. "Perhaps better to leave her in the dark for now. At least until we're sure."
"And you don't believe our friend in the basement?" Alistair laughed and took another sip of his scotch, shaking his head.
The basement was what he commonly referred to the cells under the old barracks. Skye wasn't so fond of the name, but then that's why he'd appointed the man to head of intelligence. Skye supposed his morals just weren't comfortable with such a thing, but his hands were just as dirty, he knew better than to think he could claim no knowledge of such things. Whatever Alistair did down there would inevitably be his responsibility.
"We need more proof if we are to put Lodan on a footing for war again. Lodan still bares her scars from the last war, it's too soon." Skye sighed, he was arguing with an immovable point. The man they'd captured in the woods, the one who had tried to blow up Lodan with his strange machine, had admitted his true purpose, and arguing with Alistair wasn't going to change that revelation. He downed the Scotch in one gulp and pushed himself off the desk. "All right, call whatever officers are available to the conference room. The ones we can trust not to run their mouths. There's only one way to confirm this, and that's a recon mission. If they are building up for war, we need to know about it."
Alistair nodded and finished his own drink. He set it gently back onto the small cart, adjusted his uniform, offered a crisp salute, and was gone.