HOW TO KEEP YOUR HEAD DURING A CRISIS: A HIGH STAKES SCI FI OFFICE POLITICS QUEST

Calculate the risk of bodily harm on one end of the equation squared by the inverse of social risk and weigh it out to the return on investment times security engendered by pulling him on.

Is it worth it?

You never know until you try, and as you study Tzhin, who is now chewing his stimmie with the same sort of placidity that you expect out of certain ungulates, you realize that you just don't know. Take his resume. He worked up to Division Commandant before he made the switch, which can say a few things. First, it could mean that he topped out there, his strategic/logistic acumen fit to command a cruiser pair, a micro carrier, some frigates and corvettes, and whatever strategic munitions assigned to him, no more. Second, it could mean that he knew where the wind was blowing and blew town before he could be expected to do the real sicko civil war shit, retiring comfortably a mass market hero with a couple of clean wars under his belt. Third… shit, you don't know. The point is, right now you are placing your trust in Tzhin, and that doesn't come easy to people of your career. Case in point: you are preparing to engage your coworker in an enterprise to frame your department's head a traitor.

The worse case scenario: Tzhin is part of the Conspiracy. Wouldn't that just blow all?

"I don't get what Mr. Ardhak is thinking." This forms the opening bombardments, the strategic missile strikes on suspected enemy missile sites. "He should come down his own self and get yelled at."

"Well, he's a busy man and we're disposable." There is an undercurrent of irony in Tzhin's words. Mr. Ardhak, as everyone knows, is taking constitutional vacations every Friday, and the other four days of the work week, you'll be lucky to reach his executive secretary, who has outsourced his job to his executive secretary, so on and so forth, to the intern from some party school who is still inexplicably alive.

You believe it is time to increase the intensity of your rhetorical air campaign. "Sad fuckin' day when even a war can get the slackers off," you shake your head. At the current state of the EMPIRE, or your blatant hypocrisy, who knows and who cares?

"Woah now. Under any sane accounting for slacking, we'd fit the bill. We'd get our pay cut in half if you raise that crap up high. 'Sides, spoils're just the way of life. You don't think those new gens families actually earned their ranks, do you?"

"As far as these things go, nobility for killing the enemies of the EMPIRE in job lots is a pretty fair deal," you riposte. Shit, Cylange, you're getting too into the weeds here. Don't get into a discussion about the practices of enfeoffment. "Even if my grandaddy lost a leg in a shooting war and we never got jack. Hell, you're a decorated war hero, and they never gave you a gens title."

"I turned mine down," he spat out his cud. It falls down three hundred feet of vertical office space. You wonder if it can reach terminal velocity. "Comes with obligations and all. You didn't read the fine print, the Triumvirate rewrote the tax codes so that you only get the gens tax exemption if you showed up to a fight in the next twenty five years. I just got out of the military, I don't want to get back in."

"Uh, you're here."

"Away from the bridge. Anyway, what about that guy Ardhak?"

"Well, he's up there, we're down here, he should get down here some time."

"Oh," Tzhin pushes himself off of the railing. He adjusts his coat with a considering expression. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I am kinda ticked that we get the short shift. It's high time for our leadership to demonstrate their principles and their vigor in these trying times. How'd I do?"

"I'll pencil you in for the next team moral booster meeting, sir."

"Good to be an officer. Or, well, good to have been." For a moment there is something desperately disconsolate in him. You fancy that under his skin there is something vast and hollow that was once recently filled. But then again, you are somewhat of a romantic. "Caparello get you down that bad? He's nothing much, just all talk. He tried making an instructor slot but couldn't make it because of maladaptive social instincts, so the guy spends all day yelling at private citizens. Waste of a title, but what can you do?"

An areotrans blocks the sun, momentarily. Three thousand tons of cargo bulk carrier float high above your head. Your teeth tingle with the strength of its antigrav core. "Well, now that we're shooting the shit about the fleet, how was the Triumvirate like? You know, before they got into the big seat."

Tzhin looks up and pokes a tongue into his cheek. "Triumvir Admiral gens Idrine was kind of a prick," he admits. Thankfully, as the military post of Triumvir isn't nobility, he doesn't fall afoul of lese majeste laws, and since he's no longer military, he can't be censured under decorum codes. "Career climber, you know, he actually tried to put the ol' Marquis Admiral under investigation? Old man double fucked him over and brought gens Idrine in, but that wasn't saving him…"

Interesting…

"Vi Markoviz and gens Abunco were buddies from the start," he continues, "great morale boosters. Parties all night long, I liked them. Hell, everyone liked'em. I don't know how they funded all of the booze, but they did. Never saw them once, you know, the thing happened-" the death of the Archon "-they were too busy. Nebula Storm, then losing and regaining Isthmus, it was a whole thing. Why you asking?"

"I met Triumvir Admiral vi Markoviz." You take the leap. "I'm working under him, actually."

Tzhin gains a poleaxed look. Far off in the distance there are sirens. He is considering every word. Eventually, he returns to profanity. "That's horseshit. First of all, there is no current project that we are undergoing that requires his direct attention. Second of all, if there was, he would have leaned on his guy on the inside, me. Third of all, you're a liar."

"Nada, Tzhin. I've never lied in my life. In fact, I, just recently was picked up by the Conspiracy, the running dogs of the warlords and the feudalists."

"You came out alive so I'm expecting something."

You snap your fingers at him. "On the orders of Triumvir Admiral Seubi vi Markoviz, empowered and commissioned to sniff out the traitors of the grand state! You're jst the man to help me on this, Tzhin. Welcome back into the military, son."

"Call me son again and I'll throw you off of the railing," he snaps back. There is the iron spine of an irritated military officer in his voice. "Proof?"

"You think Admiral vi Markoviz is going to give out his own spy a rank? Seriously, you should trust your officers a bit more."

"That's true," he concedes. "So. You say you're a spy for the Trimvirate. You want to rope me in. Okay. Now what? They'll smell me a mile off. They're not going to trust me one bit. You're wasting your time and effort on this move, which is exactly what I would expect out of a rich kid with a do nothing job to do."

"That would be true if I was using you on that end." That hurts, just a little, you admit. "The rot might go to the top." You can see Tzhin's interested in where this is going. He leans on the railing right next to you. "See, I'm absolutely certain the ring I'm in is just abalative cover, maybe one or two info sources. But there's definitely someone behind the scenes puppeting this. I don't know who, but I think it could be someone in Armillary."

He connects the dots instantly. "Ardhak?"

"Not saying names. It's only pinning me down. Keep an open mind about things."

The former officer grunts, pushing himself off of the railing. He is calculating the same thing you did, trust factor times risk to his self weighed against return to the power of risk of exposure. "Alright," he eventually comes up with. "Tell you what, though, you gotta bring me twenty bear asses-- I mean, decent proof on your end before I make a move. Actionable intel, I don't work with hunches and rumors."

Success! That's one load off your back. With that, the job interview breaks off. You've got some actual paperwork to do, and then you can think about

Your Next Moves
[]- Update Seubi: Or a duly appointed representative. He sent you an email, you can send one back. This is called bottom up workflow, and you're eager to let Seubi know you're on the case. Also, this way if Tzhin checks, you have your ducks in a row before he starts kicking things over.
[]- Make Contact: Alright, you survived one night. But you have jack and shit, other than the fact that the DJ is the guy behind all this. You need something more to throw to the wolves, and a list of traitors in your office and your work circle is just the thing.
[]- Hyperventilate: Shit shit shit Cylange what the fuck are you doing are you a big dick mirrorshades superspy no you are not you are going to get killed you need to calm down and do nothing before you lose your goddamn head.

Here's how you reach the Triumvir Admiral Seubi vi Markoviz.

His civilian offices, in his role as the arbitrator and regent for the state, as mentioned, are penthouse digs for the Undersecretary of Transport, who is now three ounces of ash being processed for fertilizer right now. Located in Conquest Remembrance Park, in Center South Sector, the building is remote and protected by three cordons, since Transportation is a hot business. There's vast political power in spiking planetary, cross system, and FTL regs, which means a lot of threats, good old, mafioso shit. So if you want to reach Triumvir Admiral Seubi vi Markoviz, your best bet is to get a small, fast craft, preferably an areotrans or planet buggy, and open up the throttle and build enough speed to outrace the ring of air defenses around the office. If you are lucky or if you are a good vehicle modder, you just might splatter Triumvir Admiral vi Markoviz with your ashes.

That's a pretty bad way, even for an assassin.

Beneath him, physically beneath him and his office, are floors upon floors of government clerks, scribes, and data punchers. There are entire rooms dedicated to clearing up his inbox, which is stuffed full to bursting with nepo hires and plants dedicated to clearing up his inbox in a manner that the backers of the clerks liked. For this reason, vi Markoviz gets his news from a couple of drinking buddies from back in the day. He can trust them, within reason, so he can get the low down of the world from them. Naturally, his buddies are also all brought, and there's nothing he can do about that, except that hope beyond hope that the buyers are from factions amenable to him.

Finally, there's his agents.

A cultivated corps of informers, snitches, and spies. It grinds your teeth to deal with them, since to a man jack they're rogues, habitual traitors, or even worse: genuinely dedicated to the Triumvirate. They won't think anything of condemning people to supermax or a firing court to advance their own position. This category of slime includes you, by the way.

In summation, things have not improved since the civil war. The swamp is still here. The new boss is stuck in the same lofty, inaccessible heights from the common salt.

"Tszin?" vi Markoviz sounds shocked that you buddied with him. "That prick? He went to all my meetups but never said anything more than hi to me!"

"Yes, him. I need you to pass the word to him, alright?"

"He tried to fuck with the Marquis-Admiral!" Admiral vi Markoviz cries out. "What, is he going for a repeat act? Frankly, I'm surprised he stuck around, the prick! I oughta--"

Didn't you screw over the Marquis-Admiral, too? Is the question you want to ask. You also have the brains to not ask it. The admiral eventually calms himself. "I apologize," he breathes out very slowly, along with a cloud of pollen. "I lost my temper. Now, Tszin. I want you to be aware that I dislike the man for various reasons that I'm not sharing. I strongly suggest that you find a better class of collaborator, because that man has the restraint of a starved rattlesnake thrown in a mouse cage."

You nod. "Furthermore… do you actually need him to work with you?" Admiral vi Markoviz leans back on his chair. For the record, the both of you are in a nook of the bottom floor cafe on his office. He looks like just another barbarian officer, when he's not in his uniform. Then again, all of his type look the same to you. "Anything important you have him marked down for?"

"I just think that it's probably for the best if the person who's around me all the time doesn't smell a rat."

"Of course," vi Markoviz agrees. "I could just kill him," he mentions offhandedly.

Your spine shivers. "Sorry?"

"Oh, I shouldn't use that word. I should render the state's judgment on him. Because I do have a stack of allegations on him yea high-" he gestures to about his shoulder level "-on him. Oh, I grant you, nothing no other one of you people haven't done in your army, but what the hell. I control the judges here, and not them."

You've never been around anyone who'd offer that sort of thing so basely and matter of factly. They'd lead up to it. They'd dance around that what they're offering isn't an expedited downgrade, or embarrassing chat logs gone public, but instead an assassination or holding their loved ones hostage. But, you think, when you're as powerful as vi Markoviz, as high as a rank as vi Markoviz, why lie? Just say that you're going to kill them. If the people argue, then hide behind the poker face and extraordinary circumstances.

Still, you're not too sure on this. I mean, beyond the fact that you've never actually gotten anyone you known killed because of your career climbing ways, what would your supervisor think about that? Hey, there's Cylange, the prick, he fed his coworker to the beast, are we gonna be next? We should screw him before he screws you.

On the other hand…

Do they need to know? vi Markoviz is offering to do it himself. You're not actually involved, except in the loosest sense. In time, the face eating panther machine turns on everyone. There is nothing that you can do, and nothing you can't do, ergo, you've done nothing and more pertinently, no one will realize you've done anything.

You think a bit, gnawing on a finger. With Tzsin gone, you'll miss a guy on the inside, but you can't really trust him anyway. It's a shaky alliance, you can tell right off the bat. And like, shit, you don't need him, it's a nice to have, nothing more. Another guy means another guy who can peach on you, and you don't want that.

Still…

Moral Coinflip
[]- Yes
[]- No

AN: So, I went back and checked if Tzhin showed up in the prequel. He did not. That is because I misremembered the name from Tszin to Tzhin.