Freyr looked up from the console she was reading from over Dr Wetherall’s shoulder and saw Agent 595 exiting her office. They locked eyes across the lab - the spook winked and grinned devilishly at her. Freyr didn’t react, immediately thinking back to the previous afternoon. 

The Rothian Speaker, Roth’Orsa, had questioned the motives of the Director-General, Agent 595 and the organisation they claimed to be a part of. A lot of what she...it had said resonated with what Freyr had pieced together so far. It had felt nice to talk to something that shared her concerns, even if they were almost certainly synthetic.

But any feeling of security Freyr gained from the meeting were immediately shaken upon leaving. 595 promptly and firmly whisked her back to the Barbarossa, where the Director-General was waiting on a holo-screen. Ostensibly, this meeting was for her to run through her report on their foray into the simulation, propose next steps and answer questions. Freyr dutifully obliged; the bright-eyed man was technically her boss, after all.

She explained her recommended course of action - learn as much as possible about the object before it was moved, try to negotiate terms of use for the Cradle. 595 jumped in, changing the conversation entirely. “What did you and the Speaker talk about? Back then, in Threria.” The Agent was leaning against the wall behind where Freyr was seated with her arms crossed. The Director-General’s holo was in front of her, staring into her soul.

Freyr had been expecting the question, but her throat still tightened and her cheeks still burned. She gulped. “She wanted to talk about how they could best assist us with our investigations.” 595 appeared from behind and sat down in a seat facing her. “And what did you say?” The Director-General asked. “We’re, uh, going to set up a joint patent scheme to take advantage of Rothia’s advanced technology. They claim to have improved our mobile transit station design. Don’t worry, I’ll have our team ensure they-”

“You’re lying to us, sweetie. I thought we were friends?” 595 asked.

“I’m not lying, I-”

“You do not have the authority to make deals on Outremer’s behalf. I will need to see your implant recordings of this conversation, to see if it’s something we can legally offer.” The Director-General interrupted her.

Freyr hesitated, then pretended to look through her internal archive before focusing back on him. “I don’t have anything recorded, the Speaker must have a scrambler. I’m sure she’d repeat it for you though.” 595 chortled.

The Director-General considered her like a science teacher might inspect a dissection sample. A few seconds passed before his features softened and spoke softly again. “These aliens, Dr Lang...they aren’t your colleagues. That thing you just talked to is the leader of a police state. They want nothing more than to take the Cradle for themselves and turn us into a satrapy if we give them the chance. While our leaders have lost their senses and agreed to cooperate with them, that doesn’t mean we should let our guard down.”

He took a pause. “I understand that collaboration in the pursuit of science is your natural response. But this is no longer just a scientific endeavor. The survival of our entire species hangs in the balance now. Conspiring against Outremer and Humanity with a foreign power is at best, grounds for dismissal. At worst, treason. So i’ll ask you one more time. What did you say to them?”