Glimpses of a slender, dusky gray tail flashed in and out of Cyrene's vision as she bent over her papers to work, accompanied by a steady, motor-like purr. It was soothing and almost lulling, although it was a little too distracting to be good... and she would need the papers her tiny companion was sprawled over eventually. But disturbing her seemed out of the question.

Just why was it that it was the /people/ who always felt bad about disturbing the /cats/, and not the other way around?

She scrawled her signature at the bottom of Parliament's most recent proposal and set it aside in a tray without another thought, grateful that it hadn't been related to the Kislev investigation. That seemed to be all that appeared on her desk lately; she was the final authority, and unfortunately, every operation needed word from... the final authority.

If she could have trusted her Cabinet, she might have considered /paying/ one of them to take her place for a day... But that would, of course, be suicide. Sadly, Esari had some partial support even among /their/ number, and they simply could not be trusted any longer.

Carefully, Cyrene ran a finger over the kitten's fur, trying to stroke its back lightly enough that it wouldn't wake up from its adorable fit of slumber. She'd forgotten how nice it was to have a pet... Human presence could be pleasant sometimes, but it became tiring for her. Yet, a cat... it was comforting just to have it there, even if it insisted on making a bed out of the daily reports.

And Mirian - named after a sister she only vaguely remembered - might be demanding, but at least she demanded affection, and not this treaty, or that project, or meetings with arrogant noblemen...

"You know... sometimes I think you'd rather be spending your time at leisure, rather than behind that desk."

Her gaze snapped up from Mirian, though she kept her hand steady and continued to pet the kitten even as she raised her head to greet her visitor with a nod.

Synclair bowed, perfect as always... though it seemed a bit strained, today. "But then I think to myself... no, that couldn't be. Cyrene would never give up tiresome reports and meetings with Esari for a moment to herself. Never..."

It was difficult not to laugh or to match that sardonic smile, but she managed, instead leveling a steady -look- at him as he approached her desk. "Are you trying to make a point, old friend? Because if not, I'm sure Alda would appreciate some company down in the kitchens..."

He raised a hand in defense, offering a folder with the other. "Ah, no thank you, my Queen... I'm quite comfortable with my current task."

"So I thought..." Cyrene offered an amused smile, finally, and reached out to take the folder. It was surprisingly heavy - she nearly dropped it before she could lock her wrists and adjust her hold on it. "What is this...? Reports, or results?" She placed it on the desk, careful to avoid catching Mirian's tale under its weight.

"Results, surprisingly enough..." He looked like he was about to say more, but paused for a few moments before continuing. "Look. You might be surprised at what you find, though we did expect this."

"Really..." She flipped the folder open, the hand stroking Mirian's fur withdrawing to her lap. It was doubtful there would be anything there to cause a /violent/ sort of surprise, but...

Report #48.7.679: Location: Kislev Border
Contact with Captain Athena Belford confirmed, reports sent. Exchange completed, identification protected; meeting time, estimated thirteen minutes elapsed.

Cyrene moved her gaze up to Synclair, her head still bowed over the report. "You found it? I'm surprised, honestly, considering the level of organization in your office..."

A slight, embarassed cough escaped his lips, accompanied with a long-suffering frown. "I can hardly be expected to keep up with both the house-keeping code /and/ my command duties, my queen."

"Of course, of course..."

Report #48.7.679-2, Ilar Quinn
-The regiment commander has confirmed possession of the enemy's coordinates, as ordered by the main office. However, upon further discussion with the commander of this squad, a report of unknown origin has come into his hands under the name of the Palace of Shevat.

-The contents of this report review classified information on Solarian assualt gears, and their class has been confirmed as "Neo", as they were yet unnamed in our records upon my departure from the Mother City. The agent in question, the bearer of these reports, remains unnamed, but under suspicion; enclosed are visual records captured by the base turret's external camera. Attempts to discover her identity have met with failure...

An unnamed agent. There was little doubt as to what that could mean -- she'd already suspected as much, and had asked Synclair only for confirmation. But sometimes she wished she could remain in the dark about such things... if she was lucky, she'd only go to bed with a headache, after this. If not... she wouldn't be able to sleep at all.

What ruler could relax, when she knew there might be Solarian spies controlling the information she was giving and receiving?

Gingerly, she moved the report to the side, her fingers brushing aside the thin paper shield to examine the photographs that had been sent along with Agent Quinn's report. She almost hoped Synclair would utter some soothing sound of recognition upon sight of it, but she kenw that would never happen -- he'd had time to review these before arriving, she was certain. He knew what the folder contained, from front to back, and every little event that had led it into his hands.

That's what he was there for, after all. To /know/. It was a shame her Minister of Intelligence didn't do quite so well...

"... I see." Synclair shifted, but made no sound. "You're sure about this?" Placing both shield and report over the photograph again, she folded the binder closed and looked up to examine his face, feeling strangely detached, and calm. Deceptive, the mind could be.

"As sure as I am of anything that I do not receive directly. And other reports from our agent in Solaris confirm the identity of the woman in that photograph. We've received others, but the office is still in the process of decoding them; for the moment, they are only available on-screen."

She nodded, pushing the folder away from her. She didn't want the thing near her; it was akin to a live viper... "She can't be the same one... that color is rare, even among Solarians, but not so rare that it would merit..."

He shook his head, taking the folder as if he could read her thoughts. "I highly doubt it. We may be willing to believe Sophia has been reborn, foolish as that might be, but logically speaking, that would be impossible."

"According to current scientific research, you mean." Cyrene took a deep breath, rising from her chair and leaning on her desk, palms flat against the polished wood. "But to be perfectly honest, I'd rather not imagine the consequences... It's foolish to believe that girl is the Mother of Nisan, as well; it's just wishful thinking and the charm of her appearance."

A careful shrug answered her. "So, we have a woman with violet hair, meeting with a girl who happens to resemble the founder of Nisan." His lip twitched into his usual, sardonic expression. "We've quite a situation on our hands, don't we?"

"Who is she?" Cyrene asked after a moment, nodding to the folder.

The expression faded, and he clasped the folder behind his back with a shallow bow. "We believe she is aide to Commander Ariath Dracorte, of the Solaris Military Circle, formerly in the service of Mordon... according to our spy. Surname is Yukari, given name, Myaru. Our database holds no records of her existence before this incident."

"So she is either new, or not who she says she is..." It was easy to forge records, as the woman's interference with their intelligence net demonstrated. Yet, she might have simply been too minor to note, until her affiliation with the Commander of Gebler... "Given her resemblence to That Woman... I'm inclined to believe there's more to her than what your agent has found. However..."

However... what? Keep an eye on her? Their agent was neck-deep in danger as it was; assigning him to pursue an obviously high-ranking -- or at least high-reaching -- official would likely get him killed. She wanted to assure his safety above all else - he was her subject, he was loyal, and the service he had done his country while residing in Solaris was worthy of a thousand medals. Sending him on a mission like that would be asking him to commit suicide.

So, what could they do then? Letting Solaris walk all over them wasn't a solution either. But what could be done, at this distance, with only one reliable agent in Etrenank?

"We'll do what we can, Cyrene... I don't like the idea of this Myaru breaking into our operations any more than you do. But keeping track of her will be more difficult than keeping Esari from foisting her influence on Parliament; it will be nearly impossible for our agent in Etrenank."

"I know." Cyrene's turned their options over in her mind, fingers tapping sharp rhythym on the desktop. The staccato tap of her nails usually helped her focus her thoughts, but there was just too much to think about, too much to consider... And all of it lead to the same conclusion - nothing. "Do what you can... I can't ask anything else of you. But make sure our contact's life is preserved. We'll get nowhere if we lose our only spy in Solaris."

A sharp knock sounded before Synclair could do more than nod, and Cyrene called for the door to open.

"My queen." The calm, nearly expressionless voice of her aide preceded her entrance, and she spread her skirts in a formal curtsy. "The Lady Moran has requested a meeting with you, if your schedule allows; she insists that it is important enough to interrupt your appointment with Minister Synclair... my apologies."

Straightening, Cyrene nodded and motioned for Medena to rise. "Bring her in, then... and take your time about it. Maybe it will teach her a bit of patience."

Smiling faintly, her aide departed, and Synclair raised his eyebrows. "Important? Isn't everything she goes on about just as "important"?"

"Oh yes... And if she were not so popular in Parliament right now, I would show her our /appreciation/ of her important matters, but..." Cyrene spread her hands, granting him a bitter smile. Opinion of Esari had never been a matter of contention between them... she doubted it ever would be. The girl made enemies left and right - and few friends. "You know the rules... I'm afraid my hands are tied in this matter, for the moment."

"For the moment," he replied, with a glint in his eyes that she wasn't sure she liked. "Just be sure she doesn't chain you in truth, before we can repair the matter."

The door clicked open, and he bowed again more formally, the folder containing the reports from Kislev secure in his hand. Then, sparing hardly a glance for Esari and Medena as they passed him, he strode through the door and disappeared.

A shame. She would have liked his company for this meeting... but she wasn't sadistic enough to put him through one of the girl's petitions. That, she wouldn't even care to inflict on Mordon.

Cyrene sank back into her seat with a sigh, and braced herself for a long, unpleasant discussion; the Fates, it seemed, had a little more torture in store for her today.

But at least she wouldn't have to think of the violet-haired spy...

(Summary: Cyrene and Synclair discuss his findings and discover Myaru's deception of their Intelligence operations.)