Planet Telex

"I'm sorry, Green." said the Senior Agent as she handed her lesser an envelope. "They said no, again."
Talons of Green scrunched up her face at the sealed document, telling her yet again that she had been passed up for promotion. "What did they say this time?" she asked, not even bothering to open it. "Too many Second Classes? The paperwork wasn't in on time? Or did they run out of excuses and just say it's because I dig a bit too deep?"
Peregrine shook her head. "Look, Green, this sort of thing takes time." She frowned a little as Green just pushed the letter off her cubicle desk and right into the recycling. "But, being politically... inconvenient... doesn't help it."
"Is that the secret?" asked Green, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair. "Not discussing things that are against policy, just because they're done by Senior Agents?"
"That's not what I..." Peregrine sighed, and picked the letter from the wastebasket. "Look, if you stop putting your beak where it doesn't belong for a few months, it'll make both our lives easier."
Green snatched the letter and stuffed it into her jacket pocket. "I suffered through the Academy so I could help the Accord, Peregrine, not sit about idle." She stood and closed her jacket in a huff, fumbling with the buttons in fury. "Now, if that's all you need me for, I'm going home."
Peregrine looked around the empty cubicles and the setting sun through the windows, and shrugged. "Alright." she said, and stepped aside. "Green, you're a good Agent, but you have to work inside the system, sometimes."
Green buried her hands in her Agent jacket pockets and marched off. "Like hell."
Peregrine pinched the top of her beak as the Agent approached and stood at the elevator doors, so preoccupied with her anger that she forgot to press the elevator call button.
"Usually I know what'll happen with Agents, but, you..." Peregrine flicked the monitor of Green's terminal off and shook her head. "Well, one way to see."

Green's fury had settled a little by the time the elevator had taken her down the hundred-something floors to the transit terminal. The place was mostly empty by now, only the occasional Class C that lived elsewhere in the city waiting for the monorail, and just the occasional night-shifter coming off. The Ministry never slept, Green had heard. It also never was fully awake, either, in her opinion.
As she made her way to her platform, her thoughts further converged on the subject. The Accord was a thinking, living, breathing being of its own, and Internal Affairs was its heart. It beat tirelessly, but that didn't mean it was healthy. Talons of Green often described it as diseased, the corrupt and abusive Agents that floated to the top slowing it down for their own desires. She hated it, and couldn't understand why it was so prevalent. Was it just her that was seeing it?
The next monorail on her line rumbled towards the station, brakes screeching as they engaged. It woke her from her thoughts, making her frown. "Maybe next year." she mumbled, to herself, feeling the letter against the hand in her pocket.
"Blue line to sectors seven, eight, fourteen, and northern external districts." said the digitised voice from the platform speakers. "Train departs in five minutes."
Green frowned at the windowless train cars that had stopped in front of her. There were regular ones at the back, but she decided she couldn't be bothered walking. Assistants tended to use these cars more often, not concerned about how coffin-like they felt. Maybe there'd be a few traveling with her, and around them, she could at least feel superior for a change.
The carriage doors opened and she stepped in, the car disappointingly empty. With a shrug, she found one of the few seats that the car had, and sat down. She closed her eyes, breathed out, and tried to relax while the automated train waited out its station timer.

"Agent."
Green's eyes snapped open as she heard herself addressed. She had to assume it was her, anyway, since the monorail hadn't reached the next station yet, and hadn't taken any more passengers -- but if nobody else was in the carriage, who was talking to her? Before she could turn to ask, the main lights shut off and the emergency lamps flickered to life, bathing the windowless carriage in a dim red.
Green looked around in the darkness, eyes not yet able to distinguish anything. "W... who's there?" she asked, a little louder than necessary.
"I am seeking your assistance, Agent, with a sensitive matter."
Green turned to where the voice came from -- inbetween her and the twin carriage doors. Nothing felt right about this. "What sort of assistance? And, what did you do to the lights?" she asked. She considered reaching for her sidearm, but it was underneath her jacket, and it would be too obvious to grab now.
"It's best if you don't see me too well." replied the other. "You may call me Sleeper, if you so wish."
"Hah. Sleeper." Green said, a little nervously. "I get it." She slowly stood, hand moving under her jacket to the holster on her hip. When people introduced themselves with monikers on the Homeworld, it never meant anything good.
"It's not meant as a joke, Agent Green." Sleeper replied, coldly. Their voice was hard to distinguish, as if it kept changing pitch at random. "But, that is not the topic of discussion right now. You were denied a promotion you rightfully deserved, today."
Green released the holster's strap, wrapping her hand around the sidearm's grip as she turned to face Sleeper. "Yes, that's true." she replied. "How do you know that?"
"That's not important." grunted Sleeper. "What is important, is that if you assist me, you will have that promotion."
"Promotion via deals made in the twilight?" Green scoffed. "I'd be no better than the ones who denied it to me, then." With a tug, her sidearm came free, her thumb on the safety switch as the Agent kept it hidden under her jacket.
"Not true." replied Sleeper. "I need you to procure me one of the portable chipping guns, and a cache of chips. Just one sleeve will do. It will be used to silence the thorns in the Accord's side. Normal methods are... politically inconvenient."
"How do I know that's true?" Green replied with a snort. "And even then, how do I know you're able to get my promotion?" Green kept her thumb on the safety switch. She didn't feel the need to shoot, now, but still wanted to feel as if she had some control in the situation.
"Just because I don't act on the whims of the Ministry doesn't mean I don't serve the Accord." Sleeper stepped forward, underneath one of the red emergency lights, letting Green get a slightly better look. They wore a mask of some variety, as if they were in a chemical response team, but the formless long coat over the rest of them made it clear that this was no standard uniform. Datapads of various kinds hung from their belt underneath the coat, clinking together like jewelery. "As far as the promotion... anything is possible when you have... ways into the Mesh, Agent. Let me demonstrate." They pulled one of the pads, seemingly from random, from their hip and started tapping at it. Changing rows of neon text were reflected in the glass of the mask's eyes as they worked towards something unknown. "Hold on."
One more press of the datapad's screen, and suddenly the monorail came grinding to a sudden halt. Green, surprised, grabbed for one of the vertical railings, dropping their sidearm, while Sleeper had already adjusted their stance slightly and only swayed. Another press of the datapad, and it slowly whirred into life again.
"Ahah, so... so you're one of those... Mesh hackers, that the Ministry tells us don't exist." Green took on a more stable stance once the train was moving again. "You know there's a price on your head, right? Wouldn't just bringing you in get me that promotion without the work?"
Sleeper chuckled to themselves. "You are a honest Avian, Agent Green. By the book, to death." They held up a datapad, a grainy picture of Green displayed amongst paragraphs of text. "But, you're not stupid. As an insurance policy, I set my terminal to replace your file with that of a Class A, if I were to not return."
Green looked into the eyes of the dimly lit Avian's mask and frowned. "Fine. I'll get you what you want. But -- I want the promotion up front."
"I expected you would ask. Consider it done." Sleeper almost looked like they were smiling under the mask. "It can always be reversed, if you betray me."
Green let go of the railing and cleared her throat. "Understood. I'll get it as soon as possible."
"Good. When it is done, board this car, and you'll find me again..." said Sleeper as the emergency lights switched off, plunging the car into darkness. "Oh, and also? You forgot to load that pistol this morning." Sleeper kicked over Green's lost firearm, the plastic frame coming to rest against the Agent's boots.
"Huh?" Green said, reaching down in the darkness to take it back. "No, I di-"
The lights flickered back on, and once Talons of Green had looked up, the figure calling themselves Sleeper had vanished.
"How would they know if I hadn't..." Green mumbled to herself as she pulled back the slide, only to see an empty chamber. "...loaded it."

The next day, Green's card flashed yellow at the transit terminal security checkpoint.
"Ah, Agent Green." said the officer, peering down at their terminal. "It says here you've been reassigned to a new department, effective immediately."
Green raised an eyeridge in interest. "Oh, yes. I heard that might be coming through. Didn't get the details, though..."
"External Matters, it says. Lower floors. I can print out the file, if you want."
Green nodded, and tried to contain herself. Reassigned to External Matters? The Avian in the mask wasn't messing around. "Yes, that would be helpful."
The guard drummed their talons against the desk as the teletype ground into life, striking the details of the Agent's reassignment onto blue and white striped paper. "Here you go." they said, ripping it off and handing it over.
"Thanks." replied Green, walking through the opening gates, and following the signs towards the cargo lifts to the lower levels.

External Matters sat underground, occupying some of the dozens of levels hidden underneath the Ministry of Internal Affairs building. The hallways that linked everything underground together were maze-like and difficult to navigate. The lights barely reflected off the reinforced concrete walls and floor, causing each corridor to be made up of disjointed islands of light. This was all on purpose, of course. Not only was it intimidating to those that were taken here, it also served to keep the regular Agents on edge whenever they visited.
Green wasn't scared of it, though. She had a job to do, and her promotion to these offices made it far easier. 'Extrajudicial chipping' might as well be the motto of External Matters, and the Assistants chipped rarely were ever seen above ground again. Their files were generally restricted, and the serials were scrambled -- even if you had one of the Assistants, you couldn't tell if it was the first or the billionth that EM had done in secret.
It was the perfect place to find a sleeve of chips that nobody would know to miss.
"Ah, you must be..." said an Assistant, as they ran up to Green entering the door to the staff offices. "...Agent Green!"
"Mmmm." replied Green, as she looked at the Assistant. They were an exotic, a furry thing from another world, speaking fluent Avian with a less than fluent accent. "Yes. I'm looking for my new desk."
"Right this way, ma'am!" replied the Assistant, wagging its furry tail.
Green followed it, half bemused by the existence of such a thing, and half wondering how it ended up on an Accord world. Was it a captured spy, chipped, drained of information, and then sent to work in the offices? Or was it a trophy, a specimen of what the Accord had conquered? She couldn't tell, and was sure that the Assistant's dossier would be redacted enough to tell her less than she could guess just by looking. "I guess there's no chance for a window, is there?"
"No, ma'am, but we do have sunlight-replacement panels installed in every room!" said the Assistant, a little too happily. Obviously a Class A. No independent sentient being would be so excited about lighting. "Your office will have a control panel, so you can change it to your preference!"
The External Matters offices looked much like the ones upstairs, only with reinforced concrete for walls. There was the standard maze of cubicles where the Assistants and the lower-ranked Agents sat, with private offices surrounding it. A few plants were located strategically to increase the office's topological complexity, making the boring corners and filing cabinets a little greener (albeit tinged with sickly, sun-deprived yellow edges). Talons of Green suddenly wasn't so sure about the effectiveness of the sunlight-replacement panels that were set into the roof.
"Here you are!" said the Assistant as she opened one of the office doors. "Please let me know if you need anything, Agent Green!"
Green nodded and stepped inside, taking a look inside her new office. It wasn't the largest she'd ever seen, but having an office meant that the hacker had been true to their word, and even upped them to Third Class... "Yeah, sure. I'll let you know." A box sat on the table, neatly packed with the items that were on her previous desk, ready for her to place where she wished -- a good first task for the day.
The Assistant happily returned to their cubicle, still wagging their tail. Green made a note to ask someone what its species was called, out of personal interest.

External Matters dealt with the other empires and species in the galaxy, and did so in such a way that any Avian civilian would hardly know other free species existed. The lesser Agents spoke of them in hushed tones, never quite sure what the department's official non-existence meant. Everyone knew about them, of course -- the Agents from External Matters could often be spotted by being the ones with the exotic Assistants shadowing their every step -- but it was still best not to talk about them.
"Oh, Agent Green!" said the Assistant that had greeted her before, head poking in from the door. "You have a visitor, one that requested your attention urgently!"
Green had barely unpacked her personal effects, and so was surprised she was needed so soon. "Uh, who is it?"
The Assistant went to open their mouth, but no words came out. They looked just as confused as Green did. "Uhm..." she said, after a few seconds. "An Agent... uh..."
The visitor brushed past the exo, stepping into the room and sitting down in one of the chairs opposite Green. "Could you organise me a cup of tea, BA1? In a paper cup."
"Yes, ma'am!" beamed the Assistant, look of confusion disappearing as she went to fill the Agent's orders. "Right away!"
"Good." said the Agent, turning to Green with a smile. "Agent Green, yes?"
Talons of Green looked over the Agent that had invited themselves in. There was something off about her -- the black beret she wore, as well as the standard-issue Ministry blazer, lacked any departmental insigias, and a name badge and rank was absent from her jacket breast. "Yes. And you are?"
"That's not important." smiled the other Agent. "But, something tells me you'd be comfortable enough with a codename, given your recent experiences..."
Green's heart jumped a beat, but she tried not to show it outwardly. "A lot of Agents use them." she said, deflecting. "Safer that way, they say."
"Mmhm. Well, you can call me Thunder, then." The Agent leaned back in the wooden chair, keeping her eyes firmly on Green. "Enough formalities, though. I'm here because I think you might have met someone I'm targeting."
The change in Thunder's tone of voice caught Green off guard, her neutral smile cracking a little. "Who... who might that be?" she asked, having a bad feeling that she knew exactly who it was.
"A mesh hacker. Calls themselves Sleeper." Green's heart skipped another beat. "They're a spy, for who, we're not entirely sure."
"Ah. Not entirely sure about that..." Green replied, flatly. "I'm not sure how someone like that would exist, though, since the Ministry says that the Mesh is impenetra-"
Thunder held up a hand to interrupt. "Agent Green, I know we're both smart enough to know what is official truth and what is the actual truth. You'd do well to remember the difference, especially in External Matters, where the official truth is that you don't exist... and for that matter, the official truth is that I, in Ministry counter-intelligence, don't exist either." The Agent smiled faintly, as if tired. "The one I'm looking for has modified hundreds of records, trying to cover their tracks. So, I have to go around to every one listed, and try and find a lead."
"Ah, well, I don't know about the one that you're discussing..." said Green, shrugging.
Thunder nodded, thinking for a second. "I know that they might have threatened various things, so finding those leads is always difficult. But, once I get a bead on them, there's nothing they can change that we can't change back..." She reached into her pocket and pulled a piece of white card, roughly the size of the Accord ID cards. "If they do contact you, or you know where they are... fold this in half. It'll activate the transponder inside, and we'll have a team on your position in less than a minute. It doesn't use the Mesh, so they won't even know until it's too late."
"Ah, well..." Green took the card from the other Agent and looked it over before putting it in her jacket pocket. "If they do... I'll be in touch."
"Good." Thunder stood from her chair just as the Assistant returned back with her tea. "Ah, just on time."
"Here you are, ma'am!" said the exo, handing over the paper cup full of tea. "I hope it is to your satisfaction!"
"Mm, something warm is always appreciated on these cold days, don't worry." replied Thunder, heading towards the office door. "And, Green? Remember to keep your wits about you."
Green drummed her talons on her table, waiting until she heard the sound of the main office doors closing. "Hmm. Assistant, have you seen her before?"
The Assistant tilted her head, as if confused. "Who do you mean, Agent?"
"Thunder. The Agent that just left."
"I don't remember talking to any other Agents than you, Agent Green."
Green raised an eyeridge at the Assistant and shook her head. "The one you just made tea for?"
The Assistant looked no less confused.
"Ugh. Nevermind." Green frowned and looked over the white card again. "Just... go get me a cup of tea."
"Yes, Agent Green!" replied the Assistant, fluffy tail wagging rapidly. "Right away!"

Talons of Green's first day was mostly uneventful. Nobody particularly had anything prepared for her to start on due to the suddenness of her promotion, but BA1 was able to dredge up some casework that had languished for a while. Not the most exciting work, but Green was happy to take it.
Almost happy enough to forget to go home.
"Agent Green? You're the last one here."
Green looked up from the folder she was poring over and blinked in confusion. "Huh? Then what's..." She gestured towards the activity out in the central office.
"Oh, last one apart from us Assistants, I meant!" said BA1, seeming almost embarassed that she had to point out the difference. "That's the night shift that just started. External Matters never sleeps, even if most of us have to!"
"Most of...?" asked Green, before waving her hand to dismiss the question she was asking. "Nevermind." She was sure that she'd meet whatever exo was implied. "Yes, I should head off."
"Okay, Agent Green!" replied the Assistant. "I have heard the other Agents talking about how the Archivist never sleeps! She is an Avian though, so that is impossible, she must just work really hard!"
Green closed the folder and stood from her chair, raising an eyeridge at BA1. "Yes...?"
"Avian work ethic like that is what an exotic like me could only imagine to aspire to!" chirped the Assistant. "Fortunately, the chip helps with that!"
Green kept her eyeridge raised as she put on her coat. She noticed it wasn't the one that she'd put on the rack this morning, it seemed to have been replaced with one reflecting her new department and rank. "Uh. Yeah, I guess."
BA1 took a small bow, a gesture not common in Avian society. "It is unfortunately time for me to report for my evening duties, so I will see you tomorrow, Agent Green!"
"Mm." Green said, looking down at her coat. She found it amusing that External Matters's insignia was right there, clear as day. Despite being as abstract as all the others, it was easily guessed what department it was for -- the talons tearing across a ringed planet was sufficiently menacing enough to mean only one thing. "Right."
By the time Green looked up, BA1 was gone. She was still not used to being around Class As like this -- the ones upstairs never spoke more than they had to, but it seems that whoever was responsible for the fluffy one liked them to be a bit chattier. She shrugged, and started to make her way home to fufil her own evening duties... sleep, perhaps.

When the lights went out in the empty train a second time, Green was slightly less surprised.
"I haven't got it yet." she said, to the darkness. "It's only been a day, I haven't even figured out where they're kept."
"That was expected. I don't mean to rush your good work." replied Sleeper, stepping into the emergency lights as they flickered into life. "You have got something else, though."
"Mm." Green put her hand on her hip in the darkness, towards her sidearm, just in case. Today, she had double checked that it was loaded. "How so?"
"That... Agent visited you." Sleeper almost seemed to hiss the words. "The thorn in my side."
"Thunder?" Green wasn't surprised at the thinly-veiled anger. It was clear that they were locked in some cat and mouse game, and Green was eager to not become the cheese. "She said that she'd detected you tampering with my file."
"Of course she did." snorted Sleeper, pulling up one of their datapads. "Manipulating the Mesh is not something that requires skill. Not letting them know what you manipulated is the skill that keeps me alive." They seemed to scowl at the screen before them. "What did you say to them?"
"That I didn't remember anyone, that I'd been busy." Green's other hand went into her coat pocket to pull out the white card. "She gave me this. Told me to snap it if I saw you."
"Yes, I knew she would give you that." Sleeper let go of the datapad, letting it hang back down their hip, clanging with the others. "Put it on the seat. Where I can see it."
Green did as she was asked, placing it on one of the seats between her and Sleeper. "Don't you trust me?"
"Of course not!" replied Sleeper, voice changing pitch rapidly as they seemed to lose their cool. "The last time I trusted a fellow Avian, I ended up in solitary on an orbital blacksite for months."
"Ah." said Green, voice more reserved. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Sleeper's voice returned to a flatter pitch. "Just get me what I want." They pulled something from their formless jacket, stepping forward to place it on top of the white card. "That thorn has been reassigned to your building for a few weeks. To help with some External Matters investigations."
"Right." Green looked at what was placed, guessing that it was a slip of paper in the poor light. "What's she doing?"
"Wetwork. Cleaning up a real messy exo spy operation." Sleeper stepped back, into what they considered a safe distance. "Once she's done with them, she'll likely chip them herself. She has one of the special rooms blacked out for the entire duration, at least." Sleeper nodded towards the paper they'd placed. "That's their schedule. She's the kind of Avian to stick to it."
"Mm." Green reached over and took it, unfolding it and trying to make sense of what was on it. "So, why are you telling me this?"
Sleeper shook their head, as if it was obvious. "Agents like her have their own chipping guns, so that they don't have to put high-value targets through the system. Since she's going through so many, there's no reason to pack it up each time, so she's likely to leave it unattended while working on the next one." They pointed at the paper again. "If you can get me any chipping gun, take hers. It's unregistered, untrackable, and once she reports it lost, her head will be on a pike. It solves two problems for me at once."
"Fine." said Green, stuffing the paper into her pocket. "What do I get out of it?"
Sleeper sighed quietly, tone dancing up and down in frustration. "It solves two problems for you as well. She doesn't visit every Agent, even if she says that. She's on to you -- us -- and we'll both be lucky if we end up siphoning hydrogen from a goddess-forsaken gas giant if she manages to close the net." They pointed at the card. "That's a tracking device. It's always active. Under no circumstances should you carry it when you get her chipping gun. But, don't leave it in your office either, it'll give you away."
"So, what do I do then?" asked Green, eyeing the card. "I can't be in two places at once with it."
"You're the Agent, think of something!" hissed Sleeper, voice spiking. "Or it's both our graves."
With that, the lights shut off again, plunging Green into darkness. When they came back on, Sleeper was gone.

Green paced around her office, paper in hand. She had referenced it dozens of times, trying to think of how she was going to do it. Not in a practical sense, though, it was going to be easy to take and those levels were absent of any cameras or recording devices -- but how she would work up the courage to do so.
"Agent Green?"
Green raised her head to see the Assistant poking her head in through the open doorway. "Yes?" she said, folding the paper in her hands to hide their contents.
"You requested my presence specifically! I'm sorry that it took so long, this Assistant was deliv-"
Green checked her watch and then held her hand up to quieten the Assistant. "No, that's fine, you're right on time." She walked over to her desk to pick up a thick cream document folder to hand over. "This is missing some pages throughout the file."
BA1 looked alarmed. "Missing pages?" She took the folder and opened it up, scanning through the page numbers to check. "Oh, I am so sorry, Agent Green! I will get you a new file right away!"
"Ah, just one thing..." Green said, stuffing the scrap of paper into her pocket. "I've been taking notes on what's there, so if you could just insert the missing pages into that..."
"Yes, Agent!" said BA1, straightening up her posture. "It'll take a little longer to figure out what's missing, but this Assistant's time is at your disposal!"
Green nodded, feigning a frown. "I don't mind it taking longer, I just want it done right this time. Double check it if you have to."
"Yes, Agent!" repeated BA1, tucking the folder under her arm. "I'll make sure everything is as it is meant to be."
Green watched the Assistant leave, supressing the sour feeling in her mouth. She had no reason to act frustrated towards the Assistant, especially since the missing pages were occupying the bottom drawer of her desk, but it was almost expected, and provided her cover. Something that'll take them time, something that they'll be absolutely sure of before returning.
Talons of Green checked her watch again. The Assistant was right on time. Thunder would have finished up in her allocated room ten minutes ago, and she wasn't due back for another hour. A plenty large buffer, at least in theory...

The hallways were dark, even darker than the ones linking the External Matters offices to the rest of the building. Dim panels sat where the floor met the walls, the diffused light from underneath them doing little more than preventing Green from walking into something solid. The light didn't even reach up the walls to the ceiling, giving the halls an eerie cavernous feel. Of course, she reminded herself, this was on purpose. Disorientation was the point.
She knew how they layout worked, though. The rooms were numbered on a grid, with the entrance side in the name as the cardinal direction. All she had to do was look at the doors, and she'd instantly know where she was and which way she was facing. She still felt lost, the poor light and echo of her steps causing her mind to wonder if there was any more tricks up the designer's sleeves. Were the halls actually straight? Were there dead ends? The maps said yes and no, but who knew if the maps actually reflected reality?
The what-ifs silenced themselves once she read the numbers on the next door. 2362W. Her eyes had adjusted enough that she could make out the white paint on the black door without having to hold up the backlight of her watch to try and make it out.
Green stood outside for a minute, listening for any movement. She didn't know what she would expect to hear -- the noise of chains? Begging for freedom? She could only guess, and she'd heard enough rumours to be happy she didn't hear a thing.
Slowly, quietly, she wrapped her hand around the door handle and turned, breathing a sigh of relief when it did so easily. It wasn't locked -- which meant that it was unoccupied. She pushed the door open slowly, seeing nothing but darkness inside.
"Thank goddess." she said, slipping inside and rubbing her hand up against the wall until she found the light switch. "In and out, Green." she muttered to herself as the lights turned on and she closed the door behind her.
The room lights were brighter than she expected, but they revealed a room as she mostly expected. Desk with typewriter on one side, a large padded chair with embedded restraints in the centre, and a few small tables scattered with documents and tools.
Like the chipping gun, sitting out in the open.

The next ten minutes were a blur. She remembered finding the carrying case for the chipping gun, and being relieved to see at least a dozen unmarked chips in their sleeves also stored inside. She remembered seeing a number of... less technically sophisticated tools, and decided that it was best she didn't look too hard. She remembered packing up the chipping gun, sealing the case, turning off the lights, closing the door behind her, retracing her steps, and...
Then she was back in her office. The chipping gun, sitting securely in its case, was already hidden in her messenger bag. She had... done it. Somehow.
"Agent Green!"
Green nearly jumped out of her feathers in fright.
"I have your folder here!"
Green turned to the door and exhaled in relief. It was just BA1. "Oh. Thank you."
The Assistant seemed confused about Green's reaction. "Did I startle you? This Assistant can knock first, if you prefer."
"No, no, I'm just..." Green glanced at her bag. "Tired. Been a long day."
"Understandable!" BA1 brought over the folder, tail wagging happily. "If it were palatable to Avian tastes, I would suggest my food! It always makes me feel energetic in the mornings."
Green took the folder and sat down at her desk, leaning back in it as her heart rate returned to normal. "I'll say." she muttered, taking a glance at the fluffy exo's tail bobbing about. "What... are you, anyway?"
"An Assistant!"
"I mean..." Green leaned forward in her chair, gesturing. "Like, species."
"Oh." Her tail stopped wagging for a second, as if the Assistant was thinking deeply. "I don't remember, Agent."
"Never mind, then." replied Green, guessing that it was best to not push the question. "Just get me a cup of tea, I guess."
BA1's tail started wagging quickly again. "Certainly, Agent Green!" she said, disappearing off towards the break room to procure one.
As the Assistant left, Green opened up the folder that was returned. She scanned through it idly, seeing the pages she'd removed all replaced. She turned to the back of the folder and the envelope embedded in it, opening it and withdrawing the contents. Inamongst a few slips of paper containing Archive withdrawal records, sat the thick piece of card that Thunder had given her.
"Good." she said, putting it back in her jacket pocket and leaning back in her chair. "...good." With a sigh, she closed her eyes, trying to relax. If it really were a tracking card, anyone checking its location wouldn't know that it hadn't been on her the whole time.
"Oh, Agent Green! I was just on my way to make your tea when I noticed a document had been sent for you!"
Green opened one eye, frowning at the interruption. "Is it important?"
"It was addressed to you personally, so, I think so!" BA1 put it on Green's desk before hurrying back outside. "Apologies for the delay, Agent!"
Green glanced over at the singular page and sighed. She never found much interesting in memos, even if they were 'important', but if it were individually addressed...
Leaning forward, she realised that it was bereft of text, and looked as if it had been scanned and printed several times, making it almost illegible. Inamongst the copy-splotches, there was something clear, though -- an address, and a time. And the splotches seemed almost as if they were in a pattern, not just the random result of poor copying...
They almost looked like... a mask.

Green stepped off the train and into the cold. She almost regretted leaving her jacket on the monorail, but if the card was tracking her, being left in a jacket she absentmindedly forgot seemed... plausible. Maybe.
"Blue line departing now." said the computerised voice, echoing through the transit terminal. "Please stand clear."
The monorail doors shut and it began to move, whipping up the cold air. Green clenched her beak shut and held her bag close. She was safe. She just had to deliver this, and then she could forget it ever happened. She would have the promotion she had deserved all this time, and she had no reason to ever question that. She was also sure that Sleeper would consider it too risky to ask her for anything more...
Talons of Green made her way to the surface, ending up on an empty street above the underground terminal. It was now well after dark, with only the lights of the industrial plants lining the roads giving any indication of life. They were probably only staffed with Assistants by this time, with all the free Avians having left for their apartments hours ago. Of course, it was best if nobody saw her, so the timing made sense...
A short walk later and Green found the address on the memo. From the front, it looked like nearly every other building on the block -- square, concrete, flush with the ones next to it, and incredibly boring. A short path led up to a single door in the concrete, with not a window in sight. It was common for these prefabricated buildings, but it seemed... almost foreboding to Green. Even the Ministry's ground floors were open, relying a lot on natural light... but this seemed like someone had plonked the External Matters office above-ground.
Green's thoughts stopped when the door was opened. It didn't open enough to see who had done it, but it was left ajar... as if this was her invitation to come inside.
"In and out, Green..." she repeated to herself, walking up the path. She made sure to do so slowly and predictably, expecting Sleeper to be even more jumpy than before. "In and out."
She pushed the door open to a bare hallway. It was dark, but a door on the far end was left ajar, letting the light from it spill out. Green stepped inside and closed the door behind her, double checking that it hadn't locked behind her.
The doorhandle wiggled with her movement. It was unlocked, thankfully.
"Oh, don't worry." said a familiar voice, coming from the door down the hall. "What I've been promising has arrived..."
Green's heart skipped a beat. It was almost certainly Sleeper, but who were they talking to?
"If you'd actually told me anything of use, this wouldn't be how it ends!" Sleeper exclaimed, pitch jumping about. "And if you had held your tongue about the Primus, I'd have considered this happening in more comfortable environs..."
Green walked cautiously up the hall, before knocking twice on the door. "Hello?"
"Ah. Here she is." Sleeper's tone lightened up considerably. "Come in!"

Slowly, Green pushed open the door, revealing what appeared to be a makeshift interrogation room. She was surprised to see Sleeper in the proper light of the room, almost enough to not realise that they were standing over an Avian bound to a wooden chair, black fabric bag covering their head.
"Close it." said Sleeper. "And then show me what we agreed on."
Green walked in and closed the door behind her, glancing around the room uneasily. It was unfurnished but for a table sitting against the wall, a pile of boxes in the corner, and the chair the Avian was tied to. "Is that...?"
"Ministry, yes." Sleeper replied, turning to look at the one they had captive. "Well, a traitor to it."
The bound Avian argued uselessly from under the bag, as if their beak had been taped shut.
"Ah." replied Green, pulling her bag open. "I see." She reached in and pulled out the black plastic case, putting it down on the table. "Here it is."
"Good, good..." Sleeper walked over and opened up the case, before gleefully inspecting the contents. "Ah, Agent, this is exactly what I asked for."
Green, now that Sleeper was facing her, finally got a good look at the one she'd only previously seen obscured in darkness. They were indeed wearing a chemical response mask, the clear lenses revealing that the eyes were indeed Avian. A weathered long coat, scrubbed of the markings of any particular Ministry, hid the clanging datapads, each of a different make. They wore simple black clothes underneath, nothing like the Ministry button-up linen shirt and navy pants that Green and the bound Avian wore. Green also couldn't help but notice the leather gloves -- they were just as weathered as everything else they wore, but weren't quite done yet. She had to guess that they couldn't just ask for new ones whenever they wanted.
"With Thunder's regards, yes?" said Sleeper, taking the chipping gun out from its foam insert and turning it over in their hands.
"Yes." replied Green. "It's hers."
"Good!" exclaimed Sleeper. "Two in one, then." They took one of the sleeves of chips out and inspected that as well. "Everything I asked for, yes."
Green glanced over at the bound Avian, who had begun pulling their ankles against the rope that held them to the chair, as if it might give way. "Is that all?" she asked, her desire to leave increasing by the second.
"One last thing." Sleeper pulled a chip cartridge from the sleeve and loaded it into the gun with a satisfying click. "Have you ever been present at a chipping?"
"I... no." replied Green. "Not yet."
"Ah. Well, we can change that." replied Sleeper, inspecting the chipping gun's controls.
"I'd rather not. I left my jacket on the train with the tracking card in it, so I need to go collect that before anyone notices..." said Green, stepping back. "So..."
"Mmm. Very well then." replied Sleeper. "You have satisfied our agreement. You may leave."
"Thank you." said Green, relieved. She glanced over at the bound Avian, and then turned towards the door. "Hope it all works out for you."
Sleeper waited until the Agent had reached the door before speaking again. "One last thing I have to say, though."
"Mm?" Green asked, not turning back. "What's that?"
"That I'm sorry that things ended up like this."
"Huh? What do you mea-"

Sleeper sighed deeply as they pulled the rope free from Thunder's ankles. "Another one."
"Perhaps it's your acting." replied the Agent, throwing the tranquiliser pistol on the table beside the chipping gun. "You're a very convincing Avian, you know."
"Very convincing... pah!" Sleeper snapped back, voice rising in pitch. "You make me offer something they're sure they'll never get. Any Avian in that position, even you, would take that." They threw aside the rope and stood back up. "Have you considered that?"
"I was trying to compliment you, y'know." Thunder stood up and stretched her legs, groaning as she did so. Her own act was fairly punishing on the limbs, especially when her wrists weren't actually held behind the chair. "Besides. You know the kind that counter-intelligence needs."
"She'd be perfectly fine!" Sleeper exclaimed, gesturing at the tranquilised Avian on the ground. "You, yourself, said that you didn't even know your chipping gun was gone until day's end! What more could you ask for?"
"Mmm, that's not quite it." Thunder picked up her chipping gun off the table and checked it for scratches. "Technical skill doesn't mean that I can rely on them. I'm looking for one that you would call, hmm, blinded by service, excessively patriotic, or... stupid."
Sleeper crossed their arms and leaned back against the wall. "You rely on me. Which one am I?"
"Ah, reliability under duress is different." Thunder smirked at the other Avian, who only frowned underneath their mask. "I can't send you to the colony worlds... Goddess, I can barely let you outdoors alone..."
Sleeper bundled their fists up and scowled underneath the mask. "You know, Thunder, one of these days, one of those Agents is going to come in here, and they're going to chip you for me, and I'll savo-"
Thunder cleared her throat, cutting off the other Avian's speech. "You know I don't like having to threaten you with the stun baton, Sleeper." Thunder said, before looking over at Green's crumpled body. "But, here. Let me make it up to you. I'll let you pretend this one's me."
Sleeper's gaze went between Thunder, the baton on the table, and then Green. They shook their head. "You know I feel sorry enough for them already. This one's yours."
"Suit yourself." said Thunder with a shrug. "You know, you probably won't feel so sorry for the one that decides you're a loose end and ends up putting a round through you."
"Sorry? No." Sleeper sighed, air audibly hissing through the chemical filter. "Thankful? Yes."