03-31-2019, 04:04 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-31-2019, 11:34 PM by Marcus DuBois.)
Marcus made sure an attendant would be there to take her to the adjacent consular office. Her meeting would be with him, not in the Kremlin proper.
In truth, he felt a sense of excitement. Applications had been rolling in and he had set the filters in the AI for very specific wording and language. At the end of the day, it boiled down to scientific inquiry about the power.
The other applicants had their handlers. Those that might heal or influence. Both were familiar to him. But there were those who spoke of sensing moods, of influencing them, of speaking to wolves, of talking to plants, of seeing images and visions, of speaking with the dead, of smells of violence, of future crimes, of shape shifting, of smoke creatures, of living vampires, or witches, of human snakes, of speaking with aliens, of dreams as vivid as life, of people dead and resurrected, of creatures with heads in their bellies, of Jesus or Bhudda or Krshna reborn, of walking outside their bodies, of having visited or been from other worlds. They ran the gamut of everything imaginable.
Force related? He didn't know. People were scared and any and everything that was out of the ordinary made people see the Force, now. So he had expanded his staff to conduct interviews to gather information, to determine consistancy, repeatability and ultimately, truthfulness of such claims.
And that was only a small part. The Consulate focused on channelers as an asset. Which meant evaluation and quantification. Where could they fit? He spied with jealousy the ridiculous conceit that power related people go to the military. Vellas was the hammer and in his mind all problems were nails.
Still, his simplicity was his downfall. Strategic genius he might be. Might. But he had no eye for the future. No finesse. War was but one tool in the arsenal of power. He should ask Vladislavovna or Bykov or Valentin the role military action played in the formation of the ASU. Their answer would surprise his simple mind.
And then there were the legal issues. Meetings with law makers regarding channeler and gifted people's rights, what constituted crimes, arrest, due process, holding, inhumane treatment, etc. He had a meeting with a Captain Drayson regarding an existing police unit tasked with non-normal criminal activity. That, too, would be folded into and under the Consulate.
And so very much more.
Meetings. Endless meetings. He was tired. But this one had flagged his attention. His interest, in truth, as it echoed his own. It had been too long since he'd been able to focus on his own work.
He messaged his secretary. "Please send her in." A dessert perhaps. A treat, but one he'd earned. He had so much to do.
In truth, he felt a sense of excitement. Applications had been rolling in and he had set the filters in the AI for very specific wording and language. At the end of the day, it boiled down to scientific inquiry about the power.
The other applicants had their handlers. Those that might heal or influence. Both were familiar to him. But there were those who spoke of sensing moods, of influencing them, of speaking to wolves, of talking to plants, of seeing images and visions, of speaking with the dead, of smells of violence, of future crimes, of shape shifting, of smoke creatures, of living vampires, or witches, of human snakes, of speaking with aliens, of dreams as vivid as life, of people dead and resurrected, of creatures with heads in their bellies, of Jesus or Bhudda or Krshna reborn, of walking outside their bodies, of having visited or been from other worlds. They ran the gamut of everything imaginable.
Force related? He didn't know. People were scared and any and everything that was out of the ordinary made people see the Force, now. So he had expanded his staff to conduct interviews to gather information, to determine consistancy, repeatability and ultimately, truthfulness of such claims.
And that was only a small part. The Consulate focused on channelers as an asset. Which meant evaluation and quantification. Where could they fit? He spied with jealousy the ridiculous conceit that power related people go to the military. Vellas was the hammer and in his mind all problems were nails.
Still, his simplicity was his downfall. Strategic genius he might be. Might. But he had no eye for the future. No finesse. War was but one tool in the arsenal of power. He should ask Vladislavovna or Bykov or Valentin the role military action played in the formation of the ASU. Their answer would surprise his simple mind.
And then there were the legal issues. Meetings with law makers regarding channeler and gifted people's rights, what constituted crimes, arrest, due process, holding, inhumane treatment, etc. He had a meeting with a Captain Drayson regarding an existing police unit tasked with non-normal criminal activity. That, too, would be folded into and under the Consulate.
And so very much more.
Meetings. Endless meetings. He was tired. But this one had flagged his attention. His interest, in truth, as it echoed his own. It had been too long since he'd been able to focus on his own work.
He messaged his secretary. "Please send her in." A dessert perhaps. A treat, but one he'd earned. He had so much to do.