Merrion always knew that Zora was terribly overworked. No one holding the appointment of Inspector could expect otherwise, as the position demanded a certain extent of paperwork and other administrative banality. Indeed, the stacks of files and documents piled atop the metallic surface of Zora's office table, so tall that Merrion had to stand on tiptoes to see over, stood as witness to that fact of the job. And like a sleeping dragon surrounded by its ill-gotten hoard of plundered gold, slumbering in the center of the mountain range of paperwork was Inspector Zora herself.
Amidst her slumber, Zora's short brown hair had escaped the small hairband that normally held it in a neat ponytail and spread itself all across her head in a messy brown mat. Merrion silently observed as Zora's lips parted ever so slightly in time with her exhalation, causing the strands of hair hanging over her mouth to billow briefly in the warm and gentle gusts before going still once more, only to repeat the cycle.
There was a quiet sigh, and Merrion turned her head to face Edmund, who had his palm to his forehead and a look of exasperation on his face.
Edmund: "This is why you shouldn't treat your office as your bedroom, Zora. Dammit, how many times must I teach you this lesson, old woman?"
"Does she do this often?"
Edmund: "With how often she does, I'm surprised that you're even asking."
Merrion chuckled briefly as Edmund walked around the table, muffling his steps in the same manner that he had used to sneak up on her earlier when they were outside the office. Merrion rounded the table as well, taking in the sight of Zora's outfit of the day. A blue pantsuit, once again tailored to conform to her figure with exacting detail and yet exposing nary a patch of skin –
Merrion (thinking): Oh, the blazer buttons are undone today,
The unbuttoned lapels of the blazer dangled freely, and in between them Merrion could clearly see that which the buttoned fabrics normally kept restrained gently heaving with each breath she took –
Edmund: "Wake up, old hag. You're swaying again."
Zora: "Hrrbrgh!"
Merrion jumped back slightly as Zora, in response to Edmund's sudden shaking of her shoulder, shot straight up from the table. A single strand of saliva that had worked its way out from her mouth transiently dangled before detaching and falling away in a sideways arc under the influence of the Doyle's centrifugal gravity.
Edmund: "Damn it, Zora, you're drooling again. Where's the tissues? Also, can't you book yourself quarters aboard the Doyle to sleep in? Surely you can at least secure one to collapse in, instead of passing out at your table like this?"
Zora: "…huh…oh, it's you...Edmund…*yawn* and Merrion. Morning."
Merrion watched as Edmund grabbed a nearby tissue and gave Zora's face a quick wipe. Zora yawned deeply and stretched her arms up, tugging at the fabric of her undershirt with the large movement, before redoing the buttons of her blazer and restoring the completed state of her pantsuit to a presentable level. In a movement that was almost instinctual and guided by pure intuition, Zora reached out for a hairband lodged in a crevice formed by two adjacent files and bound her hair back into a tightly done ponytail with practiced ease, impressing Merrion.
Merrion: "Good morning, Ma'am."
Edmund: "Good morning, old hag. Go sleep in a proper bed, maybe you'll age slower if you do so."
Zora: "Shut up, Edmund. I'll have you know it's the job that ages me, not my sleeping habits."
Edmund: "One influences the other."
Zora: "Your point is taken, and summarily ignored. Now if you don't mind me asking, what are the two of you doing in my office?"
Edmund: "Seriously? This must be it. You're actually going senile!"
Merrion: "Ma'am, you called us a few hours ago? Asking us to meet you in your office?"
Zora: "Did I? Hmm…oh, oh yes, I remember now."
Edmund: "You were staying up late again, weren't you?"
Zora: "Yes, Ed, I was. The reason of which is linked to why I called for you two to meet me. My apologies to you, Merrion, that you had to see me in such an unsightly manner earlier."
Edmund: "Hey! Why her only? Apologise to me too! I don't want to see an old hag swaying – OW! Why'd you kick me?!"
Zora: "Bad boys get a swift kick for calling a mature lady an old hag, Edmund. I remember where you're still flesh and blood. Remember that pain, you're a century too young, and forever will be, to bite this hand that feeds you. Take heed, Merrion, and don't let Edmund get too comfortable around you."
Merrion: "Noted, ma'am."
Edmund: "Don't badmouth me to her, it's your fault for passing out in your office!"
Zora: "As I was saying earlier, I called you here to inform you about your next…assignment, let's call it that. Engage privacy lock."
The time for fun banter and casual talk was ended with that three-word phrase from Zora. Edmund immediately quietened down, whilst Merrion felt herself tension up briefly. Even though this was already the 2nd time she was in a private briefing before Zora herself, even though she had been in more dangerous situations before where life and limb were at stake, something was always different about Zora. The way that she could snap back and forth from friendly and casual (if rather oddly so), to cold and professional, gave Merrion a slight discomfort which she couldn't bring herself to voice.
Merrion (thinking): Perhaps I'll just get used to it…eventually…
Zora: "Regarding the thugs who invaded your apartment, Edmund, as well as the compound found at your apartment, Merrion, we've linked both to sources in the 7th Sector."
Merrion's eyes widened, briefly, before she caught herself doing so and tried to conceal her surprise.
Merrion (thinking): The 7th Sector… of all places…why there?
Zora: "I'd like to start by investigating those sources. However, no matter what I do, those damned bureaucrats in the 7th Sector keep ignoring my request to link up with our sister division, so I can't get access to their records freely, so that's one problem. Besides that, the 7th Sector is currently imposing movement control orders, so all my applications for high-speed transfer passes for the both of you have been unequivocally denied."
Merrion: "No! That…."
Merrion exhaled, her exasperation manifesting in that brief exclamation. Hope and despair, twinned together, now stood before her and laughed at her. Her brief bloom of hope that she'd find out what happened to Maria, dear sweet Maria, followed by the strangling weed of despair that her memories of life in the 7th Sector were all coloured over with, like the sepia of aged photographs –
Edmund: "Surely you didn't call us to personally meet you just so you could tell us "Sorry lads, I failed!", didn't you, Zora?"
Those words from Edmund, sarcastic in tone but hopeful in meaning, snapped Merrion back to reality, bringing her face to face with the smiling expression spreading across Zora's face.
Zora: "Of course not. I would rather be caught asleep again than let that happen. As a matter a fact, there may be a way to get the two of you into the 7th Sector after all. You see, there's a…friend of mine, who just so happens to be in the right place and the right time to secure the two of you a means of passage from the 8th Sector to the 7th Sector. She's in great need for bodyguards, skilled individuals with a penchant for violence and other useful abilities that can assist her in her goals regarding a certain event. And as it turns out, here are the two of you, fitting that…admittedly vague description perfectly!"
Edmund: "I swear, if this results in Merrion being put into mortal danger again, Zora, I'll tear that door off its hinges right before your eyes! Do I –"
Merrion stuck her hand out to touch Edmund, who was towering over Zora as those rage-tinged words cascaded forth from his mouth. The sudden gesture made Edmund stop in his tirade instantly, giving Merrion the time to put together her thoughts and speak.
Merrion: "It's alright, Edmund. I'm not the inexperienced Junior Detective I was a year ago. The danger is part of the job, and I've experienced it first-hand…"
Merrion shuddered slightly, recalling the experiences from barely a week ago: the nonstop experiences of her very mortal wellbeing being at stake and the adrenaline of living with her life on the line with each and every action. Trembling slightly, she breathed deeply to calm herself down, remembering that in spite of the terrible danger she was in, she had survived, and had even made it out with something to show for it.
Something that she could show…yes…something that would be the proof of her resolve.
As if in response to that thought, Merrion felt a heat grow in her palm. She held out her right arm, palm facing the ceiling, and willed her resolve to manifest. The air filled with pseudo-static, a sensation that pricked every hair on the skin of the three individuals within the room and made them stand on end, and the rattling of chains grew to a feverish pitch as a short length of silver chain emerged slowly from Merrion's outstretched palm, perfectly taut, more akin to a stick than a length of chain. She wrapped her hand around the perfectly stiffened chain, watching the widened eyes of Edmund and Zora seeing her grasp what appeared to them as empty air, and gently moved the chain baton about, touching the exposed skin of Edmund and then Zora, allowing them to see that which she had made manifest.
Merrion: "And besides, I've got this little trick up my sleeve now. I think this'll come in handy, on occasion."
Zora: "Impressive. You mentioned this in the reports you recently submitted. I assume you used this in the earlier case as well?"
Merrion: "That would be so, ma'am."
Zora: "Good. Edmund, you can't protect her forever, and you know this. I've told you this before, and I know that I failed to convince you. But perhaps, just maybe, hearing it from Merrion herself might convince you that she doesn't need protecting anymore. Maybe she's finally ready to stand by your side, as your –"
Edmund: "– as my partner?"
Merrion: "!!!"
Zora: "Don't you think you owe her an explanation, at least, for why you're so protective? Hmm?"
Merrion, upon hearing that remark, wanted to know. She felt her curiosity swell in her heart. She wanted to know, with all her heart and soul. But her desire, her curiosity, was met with a tormented look upon Edmund's face that told her, at least partially, that the reason was not all pleasant to him.
Edmund: "Don't…don't look at me like that, it's not like I think you're weak. You did save my life in our fight on the Tainah. I…just…not right now. Not here. Eventually, I'll tell you, I promise. But…not right now. Is that…alright, Merrion?"
Merrion (thinking): No, not that look. You're making that same look again…the very same one you made when I found that album, the album of photographs…of you and Camelia.
The thoughts roiled Merrion's mind, churning and frothing her mental waters. This was deep sadness that she could sense, even though Edmund's normal mental armour.
Merrion: "…that's alright. I won't press on it any further."
A momentary silence fell upon the room.
Zora: "Well…erm…continuing from where we left off earlier, the two of you will serve as bodyguards for my friend in the event and secure your passage into the 7th Sector as a by-product of your service."
Edmund: "Sounds pretty convenient, perhaps too convenient even. Why don't you tell us what event this is?"
Zora: "I'm glad you asked. Have you heard of the Voidway Auction before?"
---
Edmund and Merrion stepped out of the tether tram onto the docks platform of the Estrella, their magnetic boots clicking as the mechanisms locked onto the metal deck. The two were dressed in casual outfits to help them blend in with the normal people: Edmund in a loose black hoodie and grey sweatpants, and Merrion in a loose grey long-sleeved hoodie, navy blue leggings, and a pair of black shorts within which her communicator was stashed. Large haversacks filled to the brim with clothes and other items were perched atop their backs. Behind them, the doors of the tether tram slammed shut, hermetically sealing for its journey back up towards the spin axis, returning to its prescribed route traversing between the Estrella and the other 8th Sector vessels it was tethered to. Merrion yawned deeply and took a big stretch, while Edmund surveyed their surroundings. He raised a single eyebrow in surprise.
The vicinity of the tether tram terminal was heavily decorated. Colourful light-emitting diodes linked in long bunches hung between the floodlamps illuminating the cargo docks like vines growing between trees. Through the surprisingly lively atmosphere at the docks and the shouts of the raucous crowd thronging the vicinity, Edmund could make out the jolly melody of a band playing a merry tune: the perfect notes that were played with completely consistency serving as the hallmark of the synthesized instruments being used. A pungent odour wafting through the air, normally the smell of metal and machine lubricants, caught Edmund's attention and soon, he found himself walking over towards the origin of the smell, taking big strides in his advance.
Merrion: "W-wait for me, Edmund!"
Edmund: "Oh-oh right."
Edmund, realising he had outpaced Merrion, halved his stride and let her catch up with him. After a brief delay, they were walking side by side, with Merrion taking three strides for every two that he took.
Edmund: "Zora said we're supposed to meet the contact here. Do you see her, Merrion?"
Merrion: "Nope! You're taller, you should have better luck seeing further than me. I'll keep an eye out in the vicinity, though."
Edmund: "Hmm…hey, Merrion, you previously mentioned that you came from the 7th Sector, right?"
Merrion: "Yeah, I did. That was several years back though."
Edmund: "Did you pass through the Estrella back then? Is it always this…loud? And fragrant?"
Edmund watched as Merrion paused in her step, cocked her head to one side and pursed her lips. A single eyebrow was raised and then lowered, and Edmund swore he could see Merrion's nostrils expand as she took a deliberately deep inhalation, eyes closed.
Merrion: "Something definitely smells…delicious. I'm hungry – Edmund, can we get some food?"
Edmund: "Stay focused, I asked you a question, remember?"
Merrion: "Yeah, yeah. The answer is no, by the way. This place was very dreary when I last passed through here…erm…"
Edmund watched Merrion move her fingers about, doing some quick mathematical calculations and counting up with her moved digits.
Merrion: "…five years? Yeah, it was about five years ago."
Edmund: "That's – that's quite some time ago."
Merrion: "Sure was! I came to the 8th for the Academy; I wanted to join the FID after all. Left behind my old life in the 7th and spent my 4 years training! And after all my hard work, I – "
Edmund: "Graduated at the top of your class?"
Merrion: "Did average in every way possible."
The happy expression on Merrion's face from earlier was now gone, replaced by a humorously neutral expression that almost made Edmund snort from the tonal whiplash.
Merrion: "Except my reaction speed, that was top class. So yeah, that's how I ended up in General Investigations. Funny story, eh? At least I got to meet you, so it wasn't all bad."
Edmund: "If you keep saying that I might actually start believing you, you know?"
Merrion: "Hmm? I'm not lying, though?"
Edmund: "Yeah, yeah. Ah, we're here."
Edmund and Merrion stopped in their paces. They found themselves standing before a deep-fried snack store, manned by a wizened old man at the back attending to the deep fryer. Evidently, this was the point of origin for the fragrant odour permeating the air, as the melodious scent was emerging from a tray of freshly fried pastry sticks, each of a different size and shape from its golden-coloured brethren, all resting atop a sheet of waxed paper supported by a metal grille. A light dusting of spiced powder caught the light from the axial tubing above, and the steam coming off the cooling pastry bent the light in strange angles through the heated air. From the corner of his vision, Edmund saw Merrion's green eyes positively sparkle with excitement.
Merrion: "Ohhhh! Everything looks amazing!"
Edmund: "Don't eat too much…ahh, you know what,"
Edmund reached out and plucked the haversack off Merrion's back, slipping the pack off her shoulders with the flawless ease that he would handle his communicator, an item barely a fraction of a percent of the weight of that bag that looked ready to explode from the items crammed inside.
Edmund: "Pick whatever looks nice and get double for me. Everything's on me today."
Merrion: "Really?! Shop-owner! I want two of this, and two of this, and –"
---
Edmund walked over to a nearby bench opposite the snack store and dropped his weight upon its metal sheeting, placing Merrion's haversack on the empty space besides him. He removed his own pack and placed it besides Merrion's, before leaning back and closing his eyes for a brief moment. In the distance, he heard Merrion's excited conversation with the shop owner over the snacks, and he felt a small smile creep into his –
???: "Excuse me."
Edmund: "Hmm?"
Edmund's eyes flicked open in response to the sudden arrival of an unfamiliar woman's voice. Merrion's haversack was now on the floor, and in its place was someone sitting there. A long, lanky figure dressed in an impressive and strangely familiar white business suit reclined upon their hands held behind their head. Long white-grey hair flowed like rivulets of water from the individual's head, their identity concealed behind a felt trilby perched atop their face like an indignant bird. Edmund stretched out his arm towards the individual, before pulling back upon realizing the futility of the gesture.
Edmund: "Sorry, but someone's already sitting there."
Grey-Haired Woman: "Yes, I know. I am that someone."
Edmund crinkled an eyebrow upon hearing the individual's distinctly feminine voice.
Edmund: "No, that's not what I mean –"
Grey-Haired Woman: "Then what do you mean?"
Edmund: "My…partner, is sitting at that seat."
Grey-Haired Woman: "I'm not your partner."
Edmund (thinking): A damned literalist, great. Just what I needed to start the day. Where do all these whack jobs come from anyway?
Edmund was sure he was rolling his eyes, but this person didn't deserve that courtesy. She couldn't see him, not through that felt trilby.
Edmund: "My partner wants to sit there. You are occupying her place. Please get up."
Grey-Haired Woman: "Why was there a haversack there then?"
Edmund: "I was reserving her seat? To guard against others coming to sit down?"
Grey-Haired Woman: "That haversack was quite heavy."
Edmund: "Hey, don't ignore me. Who do you think you are, just rocking up and sitting down to a stranger? Firstly –"
Grey-Haired Woman: "Who am I? Well…"
The individual raised the trilby off her face and her grey eyes flicked over to meet Edmund's own amber orbs, instantly silencing him. Edmund couldn't help but feel a strong sense of nostalgia from this individual, even though he knew that he could have never met her before – no, he was absolutely assured he had never met her before. As she placed her trilby to rest atop her bosom, thoughts raced through Edmund's mind.
Edmund (thinking): What…is this feeling? Why does her aura feel…so familiar?
He did, however, know who she was. Zora had provided both him and Merrion with a picture of the contact they were here aboard the Estrella to liaison with during their briefing earlier aboard the Doyle. That devious smile that crept across her face was unmistakably the same as in the picture that Zora showed them earlier.
Grey-Haired Woman: "…perhaps I should wait till your partner returns, Detective?"
Edmund: "Zora didn't tell me anything about what kind of person we'd be meeting, only a physical description of features to look out for."
Grey-Haired Woman: "Oh? And what were those?"
Edmund: "Grey hair. Grey eyes. Pale skin."
Grey-Haired Woman: "Flattering as always. Very descriptive."
Edmund: "She also provided a photo –"
Grey-Haired Woman: "Several decades out of date, no doubt –"
Edmund: "Matches you exactly."
Grey-Haired Woman: "Tsk-"
Edmund: "She also said that I'd definitely know if it was you when I met you, even if the physical features didn't match."
Grey-Haired Woman: "And? Am I what you expected?"
Edmund: "…"
Grey-Haired Woman: "You can answer that later, we'll have several days to really get to know each other. Intimately, even. Ah, here comes your partner."
Edmund turned his attention back towards Merrion, who was happily walking back towards him and their unexpected liaison. She held a long stick of fried dough wrapped in a paper napkin in her left hand and happily munched upon the fried delight, whilst carrying a large plastic bag stuffed with fried goods in her right. As she approached, her eyes met Edmund's, before flicking over to the individual's grey eyes. There was a pause in Merrion's chewing before she spoke through a mouth filled with fried dough.
Merrion: "Oohh, ou'e oue erson e're uooosed oo eet! (Oohh, you're the person we're supposed to meet!)"
Edmund: "Swallow your food first?"
Edmund watched as Merrion suddenly realised and swallowed her mouthful of fried dough in one great gulp. Evidently this was far more than she was used to, and she squeezed her eyes shut in visible discomfort as the bolus travelled down her gullet.
Merrion: "Sorry about that. But Edmund, isn't she the person we're here to meet?"
Grey-Haired Woman: "That's right. Introductions are in order."
The individual stood up from her reclined posture atop the bench, returning her trilby to its original position of grandeur perched atop her head. She was an individual of grandiose stature, and Edmund watched Merrion's eyes widen at the sight of a woman who even towered atop him. Standing at her full height, his eyes barely reached her chin, and for a moment, Edmund was sure that this was how others who were shorter than him felt in his presence.
Grey-Haired Woman: "You may just call me Altansarnai. Alta, for short. There is a formal title, however, but going around calling me Inquisitor Altansarnai gets annoying after a while. Don't stand on ceremony around me. I'll be counting on you, my dear bodyguards."