C2P4: The Belly, The Beast
4WheelSword
The original N-body Problem
- Pronouns
- It/She/They
The cold halls of the King's Security Service Offices (which most people knew as the Zaschita's lair) were designed to evoke the symbolism of the village church, the Shparutka. That meant low ceilings, smooth cut masonry and the omnipresent Icyths replaced by the King's crest, though some of these were now being replaced with the Varnmark one as a nod to the unification of the two nations.
Your boot heels and those of your escort click heavily on tiled floors as you descend into a sub-level which is just as carefully designed and only differs from the upper floors in the nature of the lighting. Gas lamps hang from the walls, casting a warm glow over otherwise cold stone, gave the place an almost archaic look even if they were still the norm across most of Polyapavlosk. Electrification was not the fastest moving development in Kevia, though you had heard that Stolrussia had adopted it much more quickly.
Your escort, a young woman in the uniform of a junior civil officer, stops sharply at a door and raps her knuckles off it three times. An unintelligible murmur from inside has her opening it.
"Starshi Leytenant Mikhailova for Major Beresev." She almost barks.
"Come in, Leytenant, take a seat." An unseen man says in a much more conversational tone. Your escort gestures and you step in. Rather than the office you were expecting, you find yourself in an anteroom. A genial looking older man smiles at you from behind a battered looking desk, point at one of the seats against the far wall. The door closes behind you as you lower yourself into one. "You were expecting the Major, yes? I'm afraid she will be a few minutes, she is on the telephone."
"Oh, uh. Thankyou." You stammer, nervous. He nods and goes back to his work. The anteroom is as carefully constructed as the rest of the building but even more spartan. A desk, a filing cabinet, the two chairs opposite the old man's and a low table with a few folded newspapers on it. You pick one up and begin to skim.
The front page is dominated by a pair of pictures of planes. One is subtitled "Unity - The Varnmark Entry" and shows a strange looking machine with two waving pilots. The other, an ungainly looking design with two bodies and only a single wing is subtitled "The Victor from the Far East". The article goes into some lengths to explain how the oriental design had embarrassed the Caspian entry and broken several records in the process. There is a second piece breaking some scandalous story from the same affair, wherein two women-
Oh.
The paper goes back on the table and you fold your arms across your chest. It is not often you are reminded quite so blunty of the attitudes of your nation.
"Leytenant?" The old man asks, smiling from behind a thick beard. You look up and nod. "You can go in now."
You had seen neither signal nor heard alarm but somehow the Major must have signalled him. Nonplussed, you make your way into the office you had expected to enter the first time.
In comparison to the rest of the building, the major's office was like a world apart. Plushly decorated with a dense carpet underfoot and beautifully dark wood furniture, it is almost enough to make you stop in your tracks. The paintings on the walls show several patriotic scenes from Kevian history as well as one of the royal wedding which marked the unification. Behind a desk surely large enough to sleep on is a petite woman in an immaculate uniform, hair craped back in a severe bun and a smile on her face. You salute almost on instinct rather than from any particular need.
"Take a seat, Leytenant, no need to stand on formality."
"Thank you, major." Dear god, the high backed chair is one of the most comfortable you've ever had the pleasure of reclining in.
"You requested this meeting. Please, go ahead." She motions for you to speak, leaning back in her own throne-like chair.
Major Beresev, Polyapavlosk senior officer for the Zaschita and infamous rat-catcher, listens intently with fingers steepled as you explain your last few weeks. First the discovery of the strange shipments, then your initial investigations and despatch of Bo'sun Maximov. You find yourself, uncertain as to why, describing how you felt when threatened by Kapitan Sverdlov and that you had had your service pistol close at hand ever since even if it didn't provide much in the way of reassurance. Finally you detail the meeting in the cafe with Pietr and his insistence on your patriotism.
"He never gave his full name?" Beresov asks, looking up from the notes she has been taking as you have been speaking.
"No, ma'am, I'm afraid not."
"Is that everything?" You nod and she slips the lid back onto her pen with a click. "Good. Then I have a question for you."
"Of course." You may have been a patriot, but you were no traitor to your oaths. Whatever it took, you'd do your duty.
"Why did you not report this sooner? You could have reported the discrepancies. You did not. You could have reported the Kapitan's threats. You did not. You chose instead to wait until you have been exposed to not one but three aspects of an apparent plot to bring this to the attention of the Zaschita. I ask again. Why?"
Why?
[ ] It was my duty to investigate thoroughly(Test)
[ ] Until the last meeting I did not understand the severity of my findings (Test, +1 Stress)
[ ] I wanted to be certain it was important before I bothered the Zaschita (Test)
[ ] Write in (will result in test, may result in stress)
Your boot heels and those of your escort click heavily on tiled floors as you descend into a sub-level which is just as carefully designed and only differs from the upper floors in the nature of the lighting. Gas lamps hang from the walls, casting a warm glow over otherwise cold stone, gave the place an almost archaic look even if they were still the norm across most of Polyapavlosk. Electrification was not the fastest moving development in Kevia, though you had heard that Stolrussia had adopted it much more quickly.
Your escort, a young woman in the uniform of a junior civil officer, stops sharply at a door and raps her knuckles off it three times. An unintelligible murmur from inside has her opening it.
"Starshi Leytenant Mikhailova for Major Beresev." She almost barks.
"Come in, Leytenant, take a seat." An unseen man says in a much more conversational tone. Your escort gestures and you step in. Rather than the office you were expecting, you find yourself in an anteroom. A genial looking older man smiles at you from behind a battered looking desk, point at one of the seats against the far wall. The door closes behind you as you lower yourself into one. "You were expecting the Major, yes? I'm afraid she will be a few minutes, she is on the telephone."
"Oh, uh. Thankyou." You stammer, nervous. He nods and goes back to his work. The anteroom is as carefully constructed as the rest of the building but even more spartan. A desk, a filing cabinet, the two chairs opposite the old man's and a low table with a few folded newspapers on it. You pick one up and begin to skim.
The front page is dominated by a pair of pictures of planes. One is subtitled "Unity - The Varnmark Entry" and shows a strange looking machine with two waving pilots. The other, an ungainly looking design with two bodies and only a single wing is subtitled "The Victor from the Far East". The article goes into some lengths to explain how the oriental design had embarrassed the Caspian entry and broken several records in the process. There is a second piece breaking some scandalous story from the same affair, wherein two women-
Oh.
The paper goes back on the table and you fold your arms across your chest. It is not often you are reminded quite so blunty of the attitudes of your nation.
"Leytenant?" The old man asks, smiling from behind a thick beard. You look up and nod. "You can go in now."
You had seen neither signal nor heard alarm but somehow the Major must have signalled him. Nonplussed, you make your way into the office you had expected to enter the first time.
In comparison to the rest of the building, the major's office was like a world apart. Plushly decorated with a dense carpet underfoot and beautifully dark wood furniture, it is almost enough to make you stop in your tracks. The paintings on the walls show several patriotic scenes from Kevian history as well as one of the royal wedding which marked the unification. Behind a desk surely large enough to sleep on is a petite woman in an immaculate uniform, hair craped back in a severe bun and a smile on her face. You salute almost on instinct rather than from any particular need.
"Take a seat, Leytenant, no need to stand on formality."
"Thank you, major." Dear god, the high backed chair is one of the most comfortable you've ever had the pleasure of reclining in.
"You requested this meeting. Please, go ahead." She motions for you to speak, leaning back in her own throne-like chair.
Major Beresev, Polyapavlosk senior officer for the Zaschita and infamous rat-catcher, listens intently with fingers steepled as you explain your last few weeks. First the discovery of the strange shipments, then your initial investigations and despatch of Bo'sun Maximov. You find yourself, uncertain as to why, describing how you felt when threatened by Kapitan Sverdlov and that you had had your service pistol close at hand ever since even if it didn't provide much in the way of reassurance. Finally you detail the meeting in the cafe with Pietr and his insistence on your patriotism.
"He never gave his full name?" Beresov asks, looking up from the notes she has been taking as you have been speaking.
"No, ma'am, I'm afraid not."
"Is that everything?" You nod and she slips the lid back onto her pen with a click. "Good. Then I have a question for you."
"Of course." You may have been a patriot, but you were no traitor to your oaths. Whatever it took, you'd do your duty.
"Why did you not report this sooner? You could have reported the discrepancies. You did not. You could have reported the Kapitan's threats. You did not. You chose instead to wait until you have been exposed to not one but three aspects of an apparent plot to bring this to the attention of the Zaschita. I ask again. Why?"
Why?
[ ] It was my duty to investigate thoroughly(Test)
[ ] Until the last meeting I did not understand the severity of my findings (Test, +1 Stress)
[ ] I wanted to be certain it was important before I bothered the Zaschita (Test)
[ ] Write in (will result in test, may result in stress)
