[GRO] Sinter Heilig - Adult

[Hivestuck]

Sinter knew it would have been a smarter move to establish himself in Civisect. At least, it would have been more efficient when it came to climbing rank--or the best he could do as a redblood. For one, Tamiya was there. It didn't do much good to be a lowblood in a highblood city without a highblood of particular status holding your resume aloft and with great bravado. Civisect was also something of a cultural center. It had been heaved back from mere squatters' ruins via military intervention. Sinter had been there personally. There was something poetic about it. It was where his career technically began, even if he was too young to properly enlist at the time.

And yet, Sinter's office was in Chittentown. It was his home, for one. His hive was small, but comfortable. It was built and maintained to his exacting specifications. That was meaningful. Even more so, Sinter's lusus, Lophie was specifically adapted to desert life. She could live in other locations, but never thrive. She'd require a great deal of troll intervention to survive anywhere else. She was the type to disappear into the desert for weeks at a time. To pen Lophie in a city on solid bedrock would be worse than sending her to the orphaners himself.

Sinter felt a little embarrassed of his sentimentality. He and Lophie could survive apart just fine. That didn't mean he wanted to. They'd been together since his trials, after all. She was hardly a kind or gentle lusus, but she was stalwart and efficient. Sinter was alive, successful even. Lophie could pull strength from the barren desert; so could he.

That really was the nature of Chittentown in the end. Lowbloods had made something spectacular out of a pit in the desert. The second largest city on Alternia, and the leading city in technology and the sciences. They'd made sure of that time and again. The space tower race made sure of that.

Proud as he was of his hometown, Sinter couldn't help but feel a bitterness at the way in which Civisect lost. That level of sabotage, of loss, helped no one. Anyone with a thinkpan between their horns could see that. And yet, this sort of treachery was par for the ******** species.

Sinter dropped his briefcase on his kitchen table. He winced when the sound was sharper than he'd intended. Exhaustion could be recovered from. Dents in wooden furniture were a little trickier.

Once he was confident he hadn't caused lasting damage, Sinter drifted to the nutritionblock proper. He'd been home a full three minutes at least. It was criminal that he hadn't set about preparing tea yet. He was going to doze off on the floor at this rate.

Sinter paused as he fiddled with the burner dial. There wasn't something he'd forgotten about that night, was there?

Only seekingCylem and Buzzwulf may post in this thread.  

[Buzzwulf]

It had been a very long time, but Engrav had finally broken out the old sweatshirt. It felt appropriate for his return to Chittentown. Back on the old, dusty streets. Also, it hid his face and arm, which was mostly what he cared about. The lowblood pulled up the hood as far as it would go, determined to stay out of the notice of anyone tonight. He wanted no witnesses, no records, nothing he didn't directly have a hand in.

He slipped through the street corners and darkened alleys of Chittentown like a shadow. Engrav knew where trolls gathered, remembered all of the open plazas and vantage points to avoid. He missed the desert. It hurt to admit, but it was true. He missed being near the other lowbloods, that sense of community. He missed the dust in the wind, although he'd cursed it more than once as well. He missed running with Morrimom on rooftops during clear nights.

That hive, there. That must be it. Smaller than he'd expected.

Engrav scouted the base of the hive. Nothing overt. No wires or lasers or lines that said anyone who lived inside was concerned about security. The yellowblood skulked to the front door, looked around. No one in sight. Probably still not worth risking it. He slipped around to the back, peering through a window. Redblood in the kitchen? Must be his contact.

The yellowblood glanced around, making sure no one was near. Still silent. Just the way he liked it. He pulled a small, flat piece of metal from his bag of tricks, sliding the flexible tool between the windowframe and the jam. It took a second, but the window latch opened with a click. Nervously, the yellowblood crawled inside of the opening, shutting it as quiet as he could behind him. He closed the blinds. Looked quiet outside, but it didn't hurt to be safe.

The inventor slipped the tool back into his bag and cleared his throat, trying to catch the redblood's attention. Maybe he was a black-clad troll breaking into someone's hive in the middle of the night, but he didn't have to be an impolite black-clad troll breaking into someone's hive in the middle of the night. Manners didn't cost him anything. Engrav lowered his hood from his scarred face, careful not to catch his horns.

"I made sure I wasn't followed, and no one saw me. You're Sinter, right? You run military intelligence? Engrav Setlar. I have a proposition."

Seekingcylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter didn't hear the sound of the window unlatching. His hive had made many an odd noise at it settled into the Chittentown desert all these sweeps. He most certainly caught the sound of a troll's throat clearing, however.

On impulse, Sinter whipped on his heel. A knife from the knife block was caught in his hand and brandished at the intruder. Sinter snarled. He was not about to get burglarized in his home twice.

Sinter stalled. The would-be burglar was not only just standing there, but was also speaking to him. It took Sinter a minute to recognize what was being said. The adrenaline drained from the redblood, but didn't abate entirely.

"What!? You..!" Sinter gesticulated with the kitchen knife. Upon realizing what he was doing, he slammed it down on the counter where he couldn't accidentally hurt anyone. "You," Sinter hissed. This was his supposed contact. The scheduling of their meeting had been short, efficient, and professional. Sinter had taken that as a good sign at the time. People with valuable information weren't long for the world if they were too keen on sharing it. Those traits seemed to go hand-in-hand with a number of other... eccentricities, Sinter recognized, belatedly.

"I have a door!" Sinter finally spat. The core of his ire finally realized. He released the knife fully, only to use that hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. One deep breath. Two. Sinter calmed, though the stern expression on his face showed no sign of dissipating.

"I am Sinter Heilig. I'm a sergeant operating under Lieutenant Tamiya Aiguma and specializing in intelligence. I hardly run the division. However I am reasonably well-connected given my standing."

Sinter's posture straightened, subconsciously emphasizing his statement. "A proposition, you say? Since we've established you're not here to assassinate me, let's hear it."

The sooner Sinter could stop feeling on guard in his own hive, the better.

Buzzwulf

 

[Buzzwulf]

Engrav Setlar

Engrav held up his prongs disarmingly as Sinter pulled the knife from his nutritionblock. That was about what he'd been expecting. Impressive reflexes, though. He noted that in the back of his thinkpan, wrote it and stamped it and dropped it in a file for later. The yellowblood scratched his face idly with a mechanical hand, glancing around to get his bearings.

"Don't like doors if I don't have to use them. Solitary points of entry make me nervous." the inventor said, moving to close the corrugated moonlight slats on another window. "My persona is a little too public right now for my tastes. Don't want anyone recognizing me around the hive of intel officers." Engrav relaxed slightly as Sinter slammed the knife back to the counter of the nutritionblock, although he still eyed the redblood uneasily. Hadn't he scheduled this meeting in advance? What if the officer was an impostor? They'd never actually met face to face, so Engrav was understandably skittish. "You understand."

Engrav dismissed the worry, though not entirely. This was just a meeting. Nobody else knew about it, suspected it could be important. Nobody had culled the real Sinter and replaced him with a clever duplicate. He forced himself to shake it off. The yellowblood stood straight, looked the officer in the eye.

"I'd like to join the rebellion. I know how. I'm almost positive I already know who to talk to to get me there. I'd like to become indispensable to their operations." The yellowblood grimaced as he said it, but didn't break eye contact. This was important, and he needed Sinter to see it, but he hated spilling this many secrets all at once. It felt wrong, but necessary. He needed to lay this on the table before they could work out any details. "And I'd like you and the military to help me. So that I can hand the rebels to you." Engrav wrung his hands, thinking about it. He knew it would be dangerous, and he wasn't sure if he could do it yet, but he also knew he had to do something, that the chaos and destruction caused by this war was too much.

"I'd like to give you the rebels. With a bow."

seekingCylem

can't make it much plainer than that

 

[seekingCylem]

Once Sinter had calmed from his initial panic it didn't take him long to catch up to Engrav's train of thought. 'He's a complete nutjob.' However he was clearly skilled, cautious, and a troll of clear goals, if not murky motivations. Sinter's eyes narrowed in thought.

Said thoughts were interrupted by the rattling of the kettle behind him. Sinter flipped the switch on the stove before the whistling could start. "Take a seat," Sinter gestured to the table on the other side of the nutritionblock counter.

Sinter meticulously retrieved a tea set, which he set to work assembling for two trolls. He transferred the hot water to a pot, but forewent adding the tea directly. Instead he set a small array of prepackaged tea bags on the tray and brought it to the table. He doubted Engrav would be the type to take food or drink from veritable strangers, but it was more about the gesture than anything.

Sinter sat at the table and assembled his own mug of tea from the tray. He gestured again to the setup. "You must take quite a lot of pride in the secrecy of your 'persona' given I've never heard of you before scheduling our appointment." Now that Sinter was able to look at Engrav properly he did decide the yellowblood was rather conspicuous for a lowblood. That was fair. Sinter chose not to press that detail further.

Instead Sinter chose to focus on the far more important topic. "You have an in with the Phoenix Initiative. You want to infiltrate them. Deeply. And then turn the lot of them in to the authorities." Sinter recapped Engrav's words slowly. It was so... simple! Sinter stopped set his teaspoon aside. "That is... one hell of a game plan Mr. Setlar." Sinter's breath stuttered through his nose in a sigh. A chuckle. "Forgive me for thinking it sounds a little too good to be true. Too clean. Why," he fixed Engrav with a pointed stare, "Why do you want to do this. What are you hoping to accomplish?"

Sinter's fingers ran over the rim of his mug but his eyes never once deviated from Engrav. There was more to this story. There had to be.

Buzzwulf

 

[Buzzwulf]

Engrav Setlar

Engrav picked up a spoon, looked at it in the artificial respiteblock light. The concave surface turned his reflection upside-down and turned him into a mockery of a troll. Bloated and distorted beyond recognition. He carefully at the table, nodding to Sinter as he placed the tea tray, neglecting to take a cup for himself. The inventor thought for a second, making sure to get his words in order. Sinter was interesting, playing the good host. It would be disarming for any other troll. Engrav, though, could feel his suspicion starting to become piqued, little details catching the corners of his attention and lodging in his thinkpan. A briefcase sat on a table, out of place. Could it contain recording equipment? Could the tea be drugged? Would the redblood be so canny as to have something like that prepared ahead of time

But at least Sinter didn't recognize him. That was good. He'd been worried being involved with a superstar so... publicly... would come back to bite him, but if the military didn't catch on, it was probably alright. "Sorry," he said, smile small. "Just... easy to remember is all. Got one of those faces." Let Sinter think it was ego instead of probing for information. Engrav was just fine with that. He'd always rather be underestimated, if possible. That was part of the point.

Engrav counted off on his prongs. "One. Space towers go up. Someone plants bombs, threatens hundreds of lives. Civilians and military alike. Lots of injuries, lots of casualites." He tapped his second finger to his metal hand. How much did he really want to reveal? In for a penny, in for a pound, he guessed. "Two. An attack on a military parade in the center of Chittentown. One unidentified assailant steals valuable satellite uplink machinery right from under the empress's best. They attack with explosives, leaving behind casualties." He didn't have the exact numbers. That night had been chaotic, difficult to see, even more difficult to keep his feet, let alone keep an accurate headcount. "Three. Rebels infiltrate the space operation, pulling information straight from starship engines and logs from their computers. They're quiet about it this time, but make no mistake, they ARE there. Mr. Heilig, this means that they now in all probability have the knowledge to build insterstellar vessels, if not the means."

Engrav didn't particularly feel a need to tell Sinter he'd helped them acquire some of that information. The price of doing business, after all. "We add these things up, and the rebels are more of a threat than ever before, especially if something happens to actually get them moving and on the offensive." His prosthetic drummed on the wood of the table, a metallic tapping that the inventor didn't even notice. He could feel the frustration beginning to reach the surface. Good. He needed it here. This was what he'd been saving it for.

"Mr. Heilig, they're not playing by the rules. Civilians are getting hurt." Polair was blinded. Engrav himself had lost an eye, an arm. Caiden was up to his neck in dangerous activity. Morrimom still had the scars she'd gotten in the space tower. It was far past time someone paid for all of that. The inventor held up the metallic limb for emphasis, tapped orbital of the lost eye with it. "So why should the military? I just want to make Alternia a little safer for everyone living in it. And I'd like to skip some bureaucracy to do it."

seekingCylem

Sinter, you should probably run now.

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter nodded along shallowly to Engrav's list. What surprised Sinter more than the scope of the information was that Engrav was one of the only civilians incensed about it all. The threat of a rebel presence on the space missions wasn't exactly the type of thing the average troll thought about. The others were public spectacles. They were hardly the only ones too. Fear, anger, the pressure to do something about it all shouldn't be left to paranoid conspiracy theorists. Engrav was right and the lack of public outcry or even acknowledgement of the scope of their crimes drove Sinter to insanity. The Phoenix Initiative wasn't some alternative living peacenik nature compound. It was a terrorist cell.

Sinter steepled his fingers over the steam of his tea. Engrav had a point. He had several, in fact, but the point of the rebellion's offensive capabilities stuck in Sinter's mind. They'd caused their fair share of damage already, but it had always been in reaction to events put in motion by the government. Sinter didn't want to dwell on what chaos the rebels would wreak if they were the ones calling the shots. Unfortunately that was his job.

By the time Engrav stopped to take a breath, Sinter was surprised to find himself chuckling. He was being told a horror story, but Sinter found himself refreshed. There was a method to Engrav's madness, and more than enough passion to fuel it. The yellowblood just needed an outlet.

Sinter leaned forward. His chin rested on his knuckles. "Fortunately we're on the side that wrote the whole damn game. There are only rules if the Powers that Be say there are." Sinter's smile was barbed with a bitter energy. He continued to smile calmly all the same. "We're not the good guys either; simply the lesser of two evils. To that end, I'd like to know, what is it you think the Alternian military could do for you in your... purely hypothetical endeavors."

Trolls had limitations. The Alternian government had no such sticking points as conscience or manpower. Sinter wanted to know what Engrav considered the boundaries of reason to be, should the normal physical restrictions be taken from the equation.

Buzzwulf

"But this is my house!"

 

[Buzzwulf]

Engrav Setlar

"Have you ever tried to catch a buzzbug, Mr. Heilig?" Engrav wasn't fooled by that smile. Not in the slightest. It was clearly meant to be disarming, calming, but the yellowblood could see the calculation behind it, lurking in the redblood's gander bulbs. He could see how a troll like this could become an intelligence officer. Watching, waiting, making sure his play was the right one before setting down his hand. Engrav was fairly sure Sinter was a political animal, patting the right backs and greasing the right palms. Those were the dangerous ones. You never knew if the hand behind your back contained a pat or a dagger.

"You can't do it with your hands. They're too small. If you try to swat it out of the air, you just can't quite seem to do it. On the other hand, if you put out a bit of honey... Excuse me for just a second." The inventor slowly bent to his satchel, pulled out a pad of paper. Carefully. Engrav didn't expect Sinter to trust him yet, and would have been a little disappointed if he did. He didn't want the redblood to think he was going for a weapon. "I propose we set a trap for the Phoenix Initiative. Simple seems best, less room for error. The rebels are starved for beetles, tech, and manpower, and they'll make dangerous moves in order to secure it. If they're willing to expose themselves... I say we give it to them. On our terms."

The yellowblood began scrawling on the paper, odd symbols with no easy order to discern. He appeared to be writing in a spiral, filling the margins of the page before moving to the center. "Sorry. My notes are generally written in cipher. I have a codebook I can share with you so you can decipher them at your leisure, but they may be someone obtuse for now." The symbols seemed to crawl along the page, nothing like Alternian script in the slightest. It was a language Engrav had crafted himself, specifically to thwart would-be cryptologists. A standard substitution code, but each letter had multiple different symbols based on the hyper-geometric distribution of consonants and vowels. In addition, the symbols values changed based on the scrawl of the first line. Not uncrackable, but devilishly difficult.

"I'm starting a business. Nothing fancy, at least not at the beginning. Tech. My plan is to collect as many rebel members as I can, get them invested. Learn their faces. Their schedules. Where they live, where they eat. Who they associate with. At the same time, I'll be making myself invaluable any way I can. Tech, communications, you name it. I'll do laundry if I have to." Engrav meant it. If he had to clean latrines to earn the phoenix initiative's trust, he would do it in a thumpbeat. Too many had been injured, and he had a score to settle. "When I feel I have a sufficient dossier built up and I know where the bolt-holes are, we wrap them all up in a net. I invite as much leadership as I can to some kind of demonstration, and you help me capture them. Then while the followers are confused and isolated, we drop on their location and catch every single one."

The inventor pushed the scrap of paper covered in arcane writing across the table. "It's a grocery list of sorts. I'll need a few things to get started. Beetles, for one. I'll also need some kind of identification, something I can use with the military if I ever get into hot water. Something immediately identifiable, but small. A badge or ID. Something I can wave at cadets to make them disappear." Not that he'd ever trust the military any further than his information carried him. Engrav wondered if Sinter knew quite how right he was about being the lesser of two evils. He suspected he did. "I'll also need a little bit of administrative rework. Some clever rewriting of my history, so it looks like I have ample reason to join the rebels. Nothing overt. And... I need your assurance. That whatever I do while undercover, it doesn't come back to bite me in the spinal crevasse."

seekingCylem

Oh look a wall of yellow text. Phew.

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter felt himself calm as he began to settle into the patterns of Engrav's peculiarities. The redblood wasn't at ease in his presence--not even close. Still, he appreciated Engrav's clearly methodical approach to, well, everything. He was an anxious son of a b***h, but he wasn't an erratic lunatic. That was always key to establish when entertaining shady deals with strangers.

The cipher was a bit of a stretch. Sinter felt his mouth thin. This would be a pain to deal with. However he couldn't deny the sort of beauty that came with such a finely tuned system. Sinter itched to take his own notes. He doubted Engrav would take well to him recording more of their exchange than strictly necessary, though. Sinter's shorthand could hardly compare to a uniquely crafted code. He'd simply have to remember what he was being told.

Alternian highbloods prided themselves in their convoluted games of politics. They were bold-faced in their underhandedness. Honey traps were like tea parties to bluebloods. The sticking point was that such stunts were left to aristocrats cannibalizing each other's standing among an unchanging caste of elites. For the Alternian military to offer such delicacy in a plan meant to ensnare ones so low as social pariahs, lowbloods, mutants... Resorting to refined tactics meant the Alternian culture of overwhelming force societal pressure wasn't working. Any self-respecting highblood would be aghast.

Good thing Sinter and Engrav were lowbloods.

Sinter took the paper and looked it over carefully. He definitely couldn't read it, but said nothing. He set the list beside his mug. "I will need to share your 'circumstances' with my immediate superior, Lieutenant Aiguma. She's spearheading the effort to smoke out rebel operatives. One could call it a passion project." Sinter was far too used to Tamiya's antics to bother with a lighthearted inflection. "She in turn answers directly to the Empress herself. The chain of command is short enough we shouldn't have to worry about spreading your name around too much via reports. The rest of the task force will be able to make due with only knowing you as my contact unless some specific problem crops up." And it would. It always did. The plan was to be a dozen steps ahead before that happened.

Sinter felt a little annoyed with himself for hopping aboard Engrav's plan so easily. Sinter was theoretically the one in control given his rank. Engrav was clearly the one holding the reigns, though. It would be irresponsible for Sinter to deny a good strategy when he saw one.

"I will speak further with my superior on the matter of supply acquisitions and... I suppose you could call them 'occupational boundaries.' I'd hesitate to set an undercover agent loose with no strings attached. The least I can say is to keep receipts for the expense reports. I'm expecting a base level of tact in your dealings." Sinter folded his hands across the table. Engrav needed his safety net, but Sinter also needed to establish an ejector seat if this deal took a turn for the worse.

Sinter sighed. "In case it wasn't obvious, I'm interested in your proposal. We will need to establish a contract at a future meeting. You've done well to establish a sense of confidence in your dedication." Sinter examined Engrav's face. "To be honest I'm surprised it's another lowblood coming to me with this sort of proposal. The Phoenix Initiative has a lot of nice sentiments and it's hard not to find a lowblood that hasn't been done wrong by the existing systems of power. You have a lot to lose throwing in with either side, Mr. Setlar. Why us?"

Buzzwulf

 

[Buzzwulf]

Engrav Setlar

Lieutenant Aiguma? Engrav had never heard of her. Once again, Engrav cursed himself for not doing more research, coming into the interview prepared. At the very least, if she was spearheading the effort the effort to catch rebel operatives, she was likely competent and trustworthy enough to not blow his cover for no reason. He liked a short chain of command. As much as he liked chains of command at all, which was very little. Sometimes, there weren't a lot of options however.

"That's, of course, acceptable to me." the yellowblood said with a nod, taking a mental note to try to do some background research on Aiguma at some point. "I'd like to meet with her briefly at some point, just so I know who I'm working with, but that's hardly a deal breaker. As for the rest of the task force..." He didn't know them. Didn't trust them. "For now, I'd rather be an unnamed source. Please use information I give you, but don't tell them where it comes from just yet. I'll be a confidential informant, but the second I'm recognized, I become far less useful." The more his name got out at all, the more Engrav would worry about trolls putting two and two together. It only took one particularly bright bulb to drop him in a hole he'd never escape from.

The inventor allowed himself a small smile as Sinter outlined the project perimeters. Of course he'd save receipts. "I will of course fill out regular reports and submit them to you detailing all of my activities. They'll be encoded, of course. Apologies in advance. If you feel I'm being to reckless, feel free to reign me in. But generally, I've found the best way to produce impressive results is..." Engrav's smile widened a bit, grew deeper as he paused. "Decisive action. Carefully thought out, and applied with surgical precision." He could work with this. The deal was slightly more politically fraught then he'd been imagining, but he WAS an outsider. He didn't know the military ranks, their internal power conflicts. He should have factored it into his model, a degree of uncertainty relating to the general aggressive tendencies of the troll race. Next time.

Engrav rubbed at his free eye. "Let me be clear, Mr Heilig. I'm not a subscriber to general military doctrine, and I'm almost certainly not a troll the military would look at twice before dropping me right into the trenches without a second thought. That's prime material for what the Phoenix Initiative is selling." It was true. He'd thought about it once or twice, dismissed it out of hand. "But if Alternia is a body, the military is it's immune system. They belong there. And the rebels? They're a tumor. They spread and kill healthy cells. And they need to be removed." The inventor looked right in the redblood's eyes, feverish intent shining dully through his good gander bulb. "Highbloods would never stoop to pretending that they're something they're not, and would look suspicious joining the initiative anyway. They'd be under much more scrutiny. I'm the perfect candidate because I'm determined and forgettable. The military chews up and spits out trolls like me every single span. And... " Engrav's missing eye itched, a small fiery feeling in the back of the damaged socket. A sneer plucked at the corner of his mouth, and the inventor shook his head. "And I guess I have a bit of a grudge. But that sounds a bit romantic for me."

"That's my motivation, Mr. Heilig. I'm not a military troll. I just want to remove a threat." It was true, if not the complete truth. Engrav didn't feel like he DID have a lot to lose. Lowbloods could only get ahead on Alternia by desperate action, large moves. And Engrav didn't want to be owned by anyone. He wouldn't be a highblood pet, not ever. But the rebels had to be removed. They were too dangerous. The inventor extended a metal hand to the redblood. "I think I can work with you, Sinter. And it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm looking forward to what comes of this meeting."

seekingCylem

 

[seekingCylem]

Sinter was surprised Engrav took the initiative to request a meeting with Tamiya. Sinter would have thought Engrav too skittish about his identity to poke much further up the chain of command if he could help it. It was nearly Sinter's turn to feel hesitation as he tried to predict the scenario ahead of time. Sinter's imagine spot came up short on specifics, but he decided Tamiya and Engrav were like enough in their eccentricities to reach an understanding if nothing else. Sinter was the handler in the end. For both parties. The realization actually gave him a bit of a rush.

"Of course. I can arrange for the three of us to meet when we discuss your supplies and parameters of your mission in greater detail. I'm sure she'd like to see you with her own eyes, and with her backing there won't be a need for the rest of the team to question your position further. Make a good impression." Sinter added the last bit with the faintest smile. He was kidding. Mostly.

Sinter found himself pleased with the line of questioning. Engrav carried himself methodically. His identity was wrapped in his fine-tuned process of planning and execution. However, he wasn't a machine. Sinter was comforted to catch glimpses of the troll beneath as Engrav spoke of bitterness and spite. Claiming the moral high ground in such conflicts would only get a troll so far. To deny evil on any side would be disingenuous at best and stupid at worst. Sinter had no use for either from Engrav.

"Fair. Admirable even, if you'll allow the compliment," Sinter said after a moment of thought. He couldn't be sure if Engrav knew the scope of what he was signing himself up for. Sinter appreciated his sacrifice regardless.

"We can meet here again in, say, two weeks. That should give me time to convene with the Lieutenant and begin setting things in motion. We will have a proper briefing prepared then."

Sinter stood from his seat and reached a hand across the table. "May this be the beginning of something meaningful."

Buzzwulf