Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 6, 2013 10:51:38 GMT -8
Airheaded Agents- Principal Authors: Tycho Talon & Grigg Ory
- Who can post on this thread: Tycho Talon & Grigg Ory
- I want to receive critical responses: N
- I will be using standard Universe rules here (e.g., canon-only, fleet limits, etc.): N
Location: Everywhere Timeframe: Sometime in the next 15 minutes. Or so. Maybe. Two completely inept spies cross paths over and over, only to be thwarted by their own stupidity. |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 6, 2013 11:48:19 GMT -8
Imperial Intelligence Director Bernard sat behind his desk with his head in his hands. There was no way around it, he had to assign someone to handle the mission brief in front of him but the options for available agents made him want to cry. He even considered venturing back into the field himself, but his assistant pointed out that he had top level meetings all week. Everyone was busy, everyone was on assignment. Except Tycho. He felt like drinking and it wasn't even lunchtime yet.
He flipped the briefing material open and read it over again. It was risky, it would require finesse and the ability to blend in with another culture, stuff way over Tycho's head. He yanked open his desk drawer and brought a flask of brandy. A quick slug on it and he buzzed his assistant.
"Fela, send Tycho up."
"Yes, sir." A moment passed before her voice issued from the speaker on his desk. "I'm sorry, sir. Did you say Tycho?"
"Yes, Fela."
"As in Tycho Talon?"
"Yes, Fela." He sighed, his head slipping down and hitting his desk. He remained like that for several minutes while Fela located the agent in question.
Meanwhile, in the mess hall, Tycho was standing on a table, his motions animated as he regaled the kitchen workers, who clearly looked like they wanted to be anywhere else, with the tale of his last assignment; a daring mission to the mean streets (They have streets, right? Those things where the speeders run are streets?) of Coruscant in order to retrieve a crucial piece of information for the Sith. He wasn't sure what it was, it was just a datastick, but he was sure that it was something big.
The janitor leaned on his mop, a certain ennui in his tired face as he stared at the fool messing up the clean tables of the mess with his nasty boots. He was going to have to clean them all over again. About that time, the Director's assistant came running into the room, breathless and worried. She had run through every room in the facility looking for Tycho and she waved her arms to get his attention.
"Tycho! Get off the table! The director needs you!"
Tycho swelled with pride. His exploits were getting noticed. He jumped from the table with aplomb, twisting his ankle as he landed, crumpling into a heap. Fela rushed over and pulled him up off the floor as he tried to hide the pain, holding his hand up at the building staff, who looked nonplussed at his injury.
"Duty calls!"
Limping and leaning on Fela, he left the mess hall, the janitor shaking his head and grumbling. "Gawd, helpus."
Bernard looked at Tycho in disbelief, his leg elevated in the chair next to him, a bag of ice on his ankle. Fela had told him that Tycho jumped off a table and sprained his ankle. Bernard could see his career going down the drain, the higher up sending him to monitor com traffic on Hoth with only a thin coat a copy of 50 Shades of Grey to keep him company.
Bernard pushed the briefing file to Tycho, his voice tired and accepting of his doomed fate.
"Tycho, there is a mission that has to be done and you're the only one who can do it. You're going back to Coruscant. The listening devices we have installed at various places in the Senate have been detected and removed. We need you to pose as maintenance worker and replace the devices in locations where no one can find them. We need this done delicately, or else you risk exposing the Empire. Do you understand?"
"Yes,sir! Do I have a license to kill, you know, in case someone catches me?"
"What? No! No killing Tycho. Just be careful and do it when no one is around."
"Yes,sir. But what if I run into Grigg Ory?"
Bernard shook his head in frustration and disbelief. Tycho had mentioned the name of the Republic agent many times in his last debriefing. He had somehow come to believe that Grigg was his arch rival. From everything he had read, it was a miracle that both agents were still alive. A new thought dawned on Bernard. Maybe giving him the ok to take out Grigg was just what he needed to get Tycho out of his hair. Maybe Grigg would kill him! How fortuitous! He narrowed his eyes and nodded at Tycho, his voice overly emphasizing his words as he played Tycho right where he wanted him.
"I see what you mean. Grigg is a thorn in our sides. If you see him, take him out. Good luck Agent Talon."
Tycho jumped to his feet in excitement, wincing in pain and nearly falling.
"I won't let you down, sir!"
Hobbling out of the room, the papers under his arm from the briefing folder falling all over the place. Fela met him outside the office with a bag of gadgets and his ticket to Coruscant. He grabbed Fela and kissed her, dropping the folder everywhere. She pulled back horrified and confused as he scooped up the papers, shoved them in the bag and hobbled on his way.
|
|
|
|
Post by Grigg Ory on Oct 16, 2013 16:47:53 GMT -8
Republic Intelligence Service HQGalactic City, Coruscant1130 Hours Local Time" Ory, report."
Major Granston regretted the words as soon as he spoke them into the intercom. Sighing as he leaned back in his chair, he briefly debated savoring one of the cigarettes he kept in the top drawer of his desk, if but to give some joy to the next five minutes. The joy being, of course, that he would be dead sooner and therefore spared from dealing with the complete and utter incompetence that wa-
" Republic Intelligence Agent Theta-Zero-Two-Niner, Grigg Ory, Special Intelligence Division, Recon and Sabotage Expert, Reporting for Duty, Sah!"
The man had kicked down the door with all the grace and subtlety of a walrus flopping into a glass window, leaving the Major tapping lightly at the knob that would open the drawer.
" You ... you don't have to introduce yourself with your full title every time. We know who you are, Agent."
I swear they assigned him to me because of that incident with the Bothan Senator. It's not my fault she suggested Starshine Surprise ...
Standing before Granston was a rather ordinary looking human. Dark hair closely cropped to his skull, dark eyes that had a tendency to dart to the corners of the room in what could either be classified as deep-seated paranoia or an inability to sit still for three seconds, and a frail build that was just asking for a breeze to knock him over. At least his dress had improved over the past week: Granston had had to remind Grigg that showing up in full Dress Uniform was not, nor had it ever been, a required mandate by the Intelligence Service.
Just please let him shut up until I'm finished speaking.
" Please, have a seat," the Major offered one of the leather chairs in front of his space, cordial in his tone and smile as he tried to accommodate his least-favorite field worker.
" Is it The Empire, sah?" Grigg asked, a light dancing in his eyes. A light of fire and determination to defend the ideals of The Republic and protect it from its enemies abroad.
Or just the twinkle of the insane.
" Have they come once again to plunder our women and pilfer our riches, to rub democracy the wrong way with their Imperial Fist until it bursts, leaving us limp and useless?"
" No ... No, why would yo- ..."
Major Granston buried his head in his hands before the bulb finally flickered on. The best way to get Agent Ory out of his office before he had to give him the news that his pink slip had finally come in. A way to send Ory off without having to pay severance or put up with the sobbing that would surely follow his being fired from the RIS.
" ... Yes, Ory. Yes. The Empire is here to do all of those things you just said."
The Agent nearly jumped out of his chair in shock and indignation.
" The fiends!"
" Yes, yes they are, Agent. And only you can stop them. Only you can prevent the Imperials from destroying The Republic from within."
" Anything, sah! Just say the word and The Empire will fear the name of Republic Intelligence Agent Theta-Zer-"
" Save that fire for the enemy!" Granston cut Ory off quickly, chuckling as if in amusement of his rugged and masculine determination, while inside trying to do his best to not just strangle the meatbag and toss him off into the endless skyline.
" We've recently found Imperial Listening Devices plastered all over the Senate Rotunda," The Major explained quickly, trying to hasten the end of this conversation, " Which we've removed, but no doubt The Empire will try and replace them soon. We need you to be our eyes and ears, Agent Ory. Go to the Rotunda and patrol it around the clock, showing The Empire's best that Arr-Eye-Ess will always be better. Stop them from bugging our government again."
" Sah! It will be done, sah!"
" That's the spirit!" Granston clapped his hands together excitedly, knowing that this would be the last time he would ever see the buffoon of a spy ever again. He knew The Empire would be keen on reinstalling their surveillance equipment as soon as possible, and surely they would send one of their top men to do so. Ory would, bravely but foolishly, intervene and be gunned down in a moment's notice. They would have a lovely funeral service, 21-Blaster-Salute and all, a few people would stammer trying to say some nice words at the eulogy, and RIS would finally, finally go back to normal.
The Major gave himself a figurative pat-on-the-back for figuring out this, his most clever of plans as Grigg was already making to leave for his assignment. When the door finally closed, Granston looked down to see his fingers enveloping a small, paper tube of tabac. With a relieved rush of air, he placed it back into the pack he had subconsciously removed it from.
The day Ory was gone, he would quit. He solemnly swore it. |
|
