#Intelligence Bureau Officer allowances

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

The agent and the witch

Summary: All Marcus did was touch a bronze cat figurine after a new shipment of stolen art came in. He never thought a simple touch would make him travel back in time to meet his witchy soulmate.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem. witch reader

Wordcount: 5.9k

Rating: M

Warnings: timetravel-magic-soulmate AU, confusion, fluff, a masquerade ball, my take on how magic works, some.... kissing, falling in love, more time travel

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Full Masterlist // Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus had the headache of headaches. His eyes were still closed and he groaned, loudly, before he slowly blinked his eyes open. The room he was in was dark and he turned his head, finding a single candle burning on the bedside table. 

Frowning, he tried to remember where he was and what happened. 

He went to work this morning.

They got a new shipment of artefacts from the middle of the 19th century that the lab was checking for their realness. 

Marcus remembered flirting with the cute new lab techie Kristin who was way too young for him, but hey he was just a man and some flirting should be allowed. 

He remembered her showing him a bronze figurine of a cat that she thought was adorable. Marcus remembered picking the figurine up and then. 

Nothing. 

“You’re awake. Good,” he jumped, his hands flying to where his weapon should be normally, sitting himself up to find a woman sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. 

He didn’t have his weapon on him. He remembered leaving it in his office. Shit. 

He blinked his eyes, not used to the darkness as the woman got up from the chair and walked towards him. She was wearing a long dark purple gown that reminded him of those princess movies his little sister had watched back when they were little. There was a small smile on her lips and she had beautiful green eyes. 

“Now you can tell me, where you stole my figurine?” she flicked her fingers towards him and held up the bronze cat with the other while Marcus headache seemed to work on making his head explode. He closed his eyes, only now noticing that he could not move anymore. Slightly panicking he tried to will his arms to move but it was like his body did not respond. 

“Fear not, I put your body on a sleeping spell, but your mind is still awake. Clearly. I might take the spell back once you start explaining,” the woman said and Marcus looked at her. 

“Spell?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 

“Yes.”

He wanted to ask more questions but, the woman only raised her eyebrow as she waited for him to talk. 

“I… haven’t stolen anything. A whole load of stolen artefacts have been shipped to HQ this morning and the lab had been checking them to validate if they were real or not.”

The woman tilted her head. 

“Listen, I have no idea what happened after I touched the figurine but if you let me call my boss I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Your… boss?” the woman asked.

“Yes… I’m an FBI Agent and I work in art thefts.”

“FBI?” she asked, looking at him like he grew a second head, and Markus sighed. Nothing made sense. Not him waking up with this strange lady, not her telling him he was under a spell, nothing. 

“Federal bureau Intelligence?” he helped. The woman still looked at him as if he had grown a second head. 

He sighed. 

„My badge is in my suit jacket,“ he said, the woman still not reacting. It gave him some time to really look at her and at the room he was in. 

There was no real light source. No lamp on the ceiling, not even a lamp on the bedside table. There was a what looked like a Gaslamp next to the door the woman was standing. It was dark outside, which made the whole set up felt like straight out of a horror movie. The furniture was made out of what looked like heavy wood. 

But it was the woman that fascinated him most. 

Her hair was styled back in a sleep bun but some curls had fallen out of her hairdo. The dress she was wearing looked expensive. He was no expert in fabrics but it looked like it was silk.

And definitely not out of this century. 

Which left him to ask his next question:

„What…. What year is it?“ He asked and finally the woman took a step closer, the bronze cat still in her hands as she looked down at him with eyes full of interest. 

„It’s 1824,“ she said and Marcus lips parted in surprise. 

„Why?“ She asked.

Marcus couldn’t help but chuckle. A chuckle that turned into a full laugh the woman was less than appreciate of. 

„I’m so sorry. This must have been the best prank ever. Is my sister behind this?“ He asked.

„I have no clue what you are saying. Why did you want to know which year it was?“ She asked him, now standing right next to the bed, the heavy fabric of her dress swishing against the bed he was still lying on, unable to move. 

„Because it’s 2024,“ he said, still laughing. But the longer he laughed the more her face changed into one of concern, his laughter slowly dying.

He gulped. 

„This isn’t a prank, isn't it?“ He finally asked. 

The woman sighed. 

„I’m afraid not, Mr….“

„Pike. My name is Marcus Pike,“ he said and for the first time the hint of a smile came to the woman’s lips.

„Mr. Pike. I think you being here is a spell gone massively wrong. This never happened before. I used the same spell for everything, how could it have gone so wrong?“ She asked herself and Marcus cleared his throat, her eyes snapping back to look at him. 

„Spell? Like… magic?“ He asked, still more than confused. 

„Yes,“ she nodded.

„So you’re a….“

„I’m a witch. Yes.“

When Marcus woke up the next morning, reaching for his phone and not finding it, for a small moment, he forgot that he… time traveled?

But once consciousness took over he sat himself up with a start looking around. 

He seemed to be in the same room he was in yesterday, but now the sun shone through the big windows. The walls were painted in a deep rich red, the furniture equally held in dark colours like he remembered from the night before. 

He took a deep breath, sighing when he exhaled. Rubbing his hand over his eyes he swung his legs out of the bed, noticing he was still wearing his suit from the day before. Well… The day before 200 years in the future.

He still could not wrap his mind around having time traveled. And there still was a part of him that thought this was all just a big joke. 

Stretching his muscles he slowly walked towards the window, lips parting in awe when he took in the busy street in front of the house. 

People were dressed similar to the woman he met yesterday. The women wearing long gowns, the men dressed in posh suits and each one wearing a hat. There were carriages pulled by horses driving on the street.

When he further looked around there was a lack of all things that were normal to him. 

No cars, no street vendors, no street lamps, no skyscrapers.

He startles when there was a knock on the door behind him, the door opening shortly after and in walked the woman, the… witch he met yesterday. 

„Good Morning Mr. Pike,“ she said with a small smile, carrying various items in her arms she set down on his bed. 

„Good Morning Mrs…“ he said and she huffed a laugh.

„I am not married,“ she said as she turned back towards him with a small smile. She told him her name.

„But I am only called Peach around here. There’s a big peach tree garden behind this house that I open for the city free of charge,“ she explained and Marcus found himself smiling at her. 

They stared at each other for a moment before Peach seemed to blink herself out of her trance.

„I unfortunately have not figured out yet, what went wrong with my spell. So I am afraid you will be stuck here until I can figure out a way to send you back, Mr. Pike,“ she said, walking over to his bed. 

„Please call me Marcus,“ he said and she hummed.

„Well, Marcus. You might be a man from the future, but we can’t let people know that. So I grabbed some old clothing from my brother who is currently out of state,“ she explained. 

Marcus stepped next to her, looking over the clothing she had spread over the bed. 

„I think you and him have the same stature, so the clothes should fit,“ she said and Marcus nodded. 

„I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me, some of which I will not be able to answer, but I’ll try. If you like you can join me for breakfast on the patio once you dressed?“ Peach asked and he agreed.

„I am a little overwhelmed if I am honest. I hope a cup of coffee can fix that,“ he hummed.

„Oh you’re in luck. We received a bag of coffee beans just last week. I will ask the cook to prepare some. Personally I am not too keen on it. It’s too bitter for me,“ she smiled and Marcus could not look away from her captivating smile. 

„Anyway. I will leave you be. Once you dressed just come down the stairs and go to your right. You should see the sitting room with the patio right outside right away,“ she nodded with a warm smile and Marcus mirrored her. 

„Thank you,“ he said just before she exited his room. 

„You are in this situation because of me, Marcus. It’s the least I can do.“

A week went buy and Marcus was slowly getting used to his new normal in the year 1824. If he was honest with himself he quite enjoyed not having to get into work every morning at the crack of dawn to work for 12 hours only to get some shitty take out on his way home and pass out in front of the TV. 

Instead he could sleep in and just dream into the day. 

Only yesterday Peach had took him on a walk around the capitol. He was fascinated how different yet familiar everything looked. And it was interesting how quickly he got used to the lack of noise in this century. 

There were no cars, no planes. Yes there was some screaming now and then, but nothing compared to the hum of the city he had gotten used without even noticing it before. 

The air was fresher and the people were kinder. 

He had started strolling though the neighbourhood twice a day after Peach had walked around with him the first two days. But he quickly learned that she was a busy woman. 

She was a valued member of the community and even though there were people, mostly men, around who did not take well to a unmarried woman being in charge of an estate, let alone a family business, her success spoke for herself. 

She was also fascinating, intelligent, had a killer sense of humour and one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen. More than once he caught himself watching her as she read through her spell book, searching for something that would get Marcus back home. 

And she was doing all that while also planing a giant masquerade ball for Halloween which would happen in the next week.

He knew by now that once she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and slightly aggressively brushing over her cat’s Lucius fur meant that she was getting frustrated. He learned to get her her favourite tea from the kitchen would calm her down and give him one of those small smiles and a squeeze of his hand as thanks that he was sure by now she knew made him blush. 

Of course, only he could accidentally travel back in time by touching a bronze cat, only to fall for the witch who put the spell on said bronze cat. 

„I have a theory,“ she said, exactly a week after Marcus had appeared in her house. 

It was night, Marcus sitting in an armchair opposite the fire place, her second cat Lucky in his lap, purring affectionately as he brushed over her head. He was reading a book, a glass of scotch waiting on the little table next to him. 

Peach was sitting in the armchair next to him, new spell book and another much older looking book in her lap. She was cuddled under a thick fur blanket, Lucius squeezed next to the books in her lap, the black cat only rarely leaving her side.

She was wearing his reading glasses, something she was almost giddy about once he told her what they were as he found them in his suit pocket, the dark thick frames sitting on the tip of her nose. 

„You have?“ He asked and she turned her head to look at him. She was pursing her lips and he found himself wanting to close the distance between them to kiss her plush lips. He took a deep breath, willing these thoughts away. 

„Yes,“ she nodded, sucking her bottom lip in. 

„Are you gonna… tell me about it?“ He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She loved and hated when Marcus looked at her like that. 

Marcus Pike plopped into her life exactly a week ago, and it was like a switch had flipped inside her head she did not know had existed before. 

And when he looked at her like that, his big brown eyes giving her his full attention, more than once she found herself forgetting whatever she was about to say. 

How could it be that no man from her time had held her under his spell as much as Marcus Pike from two hundred years in the future did?

It was like something clicked into place ever since he got here, and she found herself getting less interested in finding a away to send him back into his time. Which was not fair to him, but if she only thought about not seeing him ever again the sadness that took over her made it almost difficult for her to breathe. 

And as he looked at her now, sitting in the armchair next to her, Lucky, her cat that had never let anyone but her touch her until Marcus arrived as she sat in his lap, she again found herself forgetting the words she was about to say. 

She blinked at him, trying shake herself out of his spell, suddenly nervous about the theory she was about to tell him. 

„There is a…. Story about a witch who used the same spell I did on the same figurine. It brought her back the figurine and a man, she wrote was from sixty years in the future.“

„When did that happen?“ Marcus asked, leaning in closer. 

„About a hundred years ago. This spell book is from the mother of one witch from my coven,“ she explained. Marcus nodded. 

„Did she find out why it happened?“ He asked. 

Rubbing her tongue over her teeth, she took a deep breath. 

„Can you show me your left elbow?“ She asked. He frowned.

„Please?“ She added with pleading eyes and he looked at her for a moment more before he nodded. She watched him as he carefully set his book down and pulled the sleeve of the shirt he was wearing up and over his elbow. 

He breath stuttered when she saw the purple scar right above his elbow, the one she got after burning herself when she was just fifteen years old and experimenting with some potions. 

„Marcus…“ she whispered. He was looking at his elbow too, frowning. 

„I… didn’t have this before. What does this mean?“

Instead of answering him she to pulled at the sleeve of the dress she was wearing, showing him the matching scar. 

„It is said in these books, that witches that were born during a full moon on St. Hallows eve have the blessing of soulmates,“ she explained quietly. Looking up at him she found Marcus watching her, listening. 

„It is said that they have the power, knowingly or not, to summon their soulmate. Their one true mate.The universe will chose and find a way to bring them to the witch before her thirtieth birthday,“ she whispered. 

Peach saw Marcus process the words.

„The soulmates share every scar on each others body,“ she continued and Marcus gulped.

„Could you…“ he started before he cleared his throat. 

„I have a scar on my right hip from when I was shot…“ he began and her eyes widened.

„You were shot?“ She asked alarmed.

„Comes with the line of work,“ he shrugged. 

„Did it hurt?“

„Like hell,“ he chuckled and she released a shuddering breath. 

They looked at each others hands for a while. 

„I also have a scar on my leg ankle. Had to get surgery when I was little,“ he said after a while. Taking a deep breath she nodded, before she pulled her left leg up and pulled her dress up. She felt her cheeks warming as she pulled at her stockings. She had never undressed in front of a man like this and she was thankful when she noticed Marcus adverting his eyes. 

She stared at her ankle for a moment, her fingertips brushing over the scar she did not have a week ago. 

„Marcus,“ she whispered in awe and he turned his head to follow her sight. She jumped when she felt his hand on her ankle, his fingers brushing over the scar. 

When she looked up she found Marcus already looking at her and tears filled her eyes. His expression changed to concern as the first tears rolled down her cheek. 

„I did this,“ she whispered. 

„I pulled you from your time, your life, your family. It’s my fault you’re here. I’m so sorry, Marcus,“ she sobbed and she didn’t realise he had gotten up to hug her until she felt the warmth of his chest against her cheek. 

He soothed her, rubbing his hand over her back. 

„Peach,“ he whispered and she shakily breathed out. 

„You may have pulled me from my time, but you did not pull me away from my life,“ he said, chin resting on top of her head. Hesitantly she put her arms around him, her heartbeat slowing down. 

„My life only consisted of work. The only thing I might miss is my sister and her children. But apart from that? There is nothing for me there,“ he explained. 

„That sounds like you already made plans to stay,“ she whispered. 

„Is there even a way to go back?“ He asked. She pulled away from him so she could look at him. 

„There is. I would have to do it before my birthday. It’s a potion you take on the morning of St. Hallows eve that bring you back once the full moon has risen,“ she explained and he nodded. 

„So we have time,“ he said and she frowned. 

„Time for what?“

The smile he gave her made her knees weak.

„To get to know each other. To… to make a decision.“

„You really thinking about staying?“ She asked.

„I have been thinking about it for the last two days already,“ he smiled sheepishly and she found herself smiling at him. 

„I have also been thinking about kissing you,“ he added and her eyes widened. 

„You have?“ She asked and he nodded. Peach sucked her bottom lip in. 

„I have been thinking about many things. But kissing is the most innocent one,“ he said with a mischievous smile and her lips parted. 

She felt hot all of the sudden. 

„Marcus…. I have never…. I am not…..“

„Hey. It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything. I just wanted to be honest.“

„I do want to do something though,“ she whispered. 

„What do you want to do?“ He asked and she tilted her head up, looking into his eyes. 

„Kiss you,“ she whispered so quiet he wouldn’t have heard her if he hadn’t been already leaning in, lips so close to hers, he could feel her warmth. 

He smiled at her. 

„Now?“ He whispered. She nodded. 

„Now,“ she repeated. 

Marcus brushed his nose over hers, breathing her in before he slowly closed the distance between them and kissed her softly.

„What is it like in your time?“ Peach asked a couple days later. Both Marcus and her were lying under one of the Peach trees, enjoying the sunny day. She was lying with her head on Marcus’ chest, his arm wrapped securely around her, keeping her close. 

Since they had kissed for the first time, many have followed. 

She couldn’t go long without having him close, the planning of the Masquerade ball having been done with a great input of Marcus due to the fact that she just couldn’t bring herself to part from him. 

People had began to talk. Of course they did. 

Even though she was a great help and valued member of the community, there were still people whispering behind her back, calling her a mad spinster. 

Well, technically she was one. Is one. 

She had never been with a man, having been happy with her life as it was. But ever since Marcus came into her life, she began to ask herself if maybe there was a way to be even happier. 

Which brought her to her question about his time and how it was. 

She couldn’t imagine what the future was like.

But the letter she had received from her brother was concerning. He had been traveling for a while, and reported of the rise of the witch trials and the burning of witches. 

He was concerned for her and frankly, she were starting to be too.

She had noticed the whispers too, her coven spreading awareness, asking everyone to be even more cautious. 

„What do you want to know?“ Marcus asked, grabbing her hand, his fingers beginning to play with her fingers. 

Peach hummed, trying to think what exactly she wanted to know. 

„You said you worked as an… Agent?“ She asked, feeling him nod. 

„Yes. I am an FBI Agent. They are sort of a police, if I had to describe it. There are different sorts of police formed for different crimes. I work in art theft. Which means if a important piece of art, such as a painting or let’s say a bronze cat figurine get stolen, I get called to find out what happened,“ he explained. 

„Is this a dangerous kind of work?“

„Not really.“

„You did get shot though,“ she said, turning her head so she could look at him. He hummed, his finger wrapping around hers, holding her hand. 

„That was a…. Very unique situation that will never happen again,“ he said. Peach kept looking at him before she slowly nodded. 

„Where do you live?“

„At the moment in a small apartment that I pay way too much for,“ he chuckled, making her frown. 

„Rent is very expensive, but I do have my eyes on a house not to far from here actually. I looked at it a month ago and put in an offer.“

„I hope you get it,“ she said and he smiled at her. 

„Why do you ask?“

„I… might have not told you everything about the soulmate situation,“ she said and Marcus raised one of his eyebrows in question. 

„The summoned soulmate can go home, like I said. But the only time they can go home is before the thirtieth birthday of the witch who summoned them ends. If they stay beyond that day there is no going back,“ she explained. 

„The potion I brew this morning, while you were reading in the study can send you back into your time,“ she continued and Marcus squeezed her hand. 

„However the soulmates witch can also chose to go with them if she takes the potion too,“ Peach said quietly, and Marcus stilled beneath her before he sat himself up, pulling her with him. She was looking at him as he took her other hand. 

„You would go with me? Leave all of this?“ He asked, brows furrowed. 

„Would you stay here? Leave your whole life in the future that sounds like it has so many advantages compared to this time?“ She asked. 

„I would stay if it meant I could stay with you,“ he said sincerely and she found herself leaning in to kiss him softly. 

„And I would go with you if it meant I could stay with you,“ she mumbled against his lips. 

„But you don’t know what you would be getting into. I know both sides. I know what I would give up by staying here with you. Yes there are certain things, like indoor pluming I would miss, but I would have you. I could… I could grow old with you. Here. In this beautiful place. We could get married. Have children if you want them. You could teach me witchy things,“ he grinned and she giggled before her face got serious. 

„I might be in danger if I stay here. Witch trials are on the rise and my brother wrote about having heard of witch burnings on his travels. I don’t know if we could have all you dreamed of, if we stayed here,“ she mumbled. Marcus hand came to touch her cheek, his eyes focused on hers, his face serious. 

„I read about the witch trials once. I don’t think I would have a way to protect you,“ he sighed and she smiled sadly. 

„So tell me everything you could think of from your time. So I am as prepared as I could be if you would accept me to join you,“ she said.

He kissed her instead, pulling her close against his chest. 

„I would be honoured to have you with me, sweetheart,“ he whispered against her lips, before he began to tell her about his future. 

It was the night before St. Hallows eve.

Her brother had returned home earlier that day and once he had met Marcus, it seemed like he knew she was about to leave. Peach had a long talk with him after lunch, walking with him through the gardens, explaining everything. 

It would hurt her to leave her brother behind, but he told her he would be happy letting her go into a future where she could live with her soulmate, instead of having to be scared to lose her to the witch trials and their fanatics. 

It also meant he had to stop his travels, and finally settle down to take over the family business. But as he told her with a shy smile about a girl he met on his travels who was supposed to visit with her family in the following weeks, Peach felt better about leaving. 

After dinner her brother, Marcus and Peach took a nightcap, checking if everything was ready for the big ball the next day. Peach had made some costumes for the both of them, giving it to them before saying good night, retiring to her chambers. 

As she sat in the middle of her bed for what would probably the last night in her home, her century, she tried to think about what to take with her. She knew from Marcus that not everything he had on him made it to the past, to her. She could only hope that her spell book that she would put in her pocket would make it with her. 

She also had instructed her brother that, if possible, the should store some of her trinkets and things at a secure space at the local bank. She didn’t know if it would wait for two hundred years for her, but she wanted to try. 

She was about to blow out her candle to go to sleep when there was a knock on her door.

Knowing there was only one person who would seek her out so late, she called for them to enter, smiling when Marcus walked in, closing the door behind him. 

„What brings you to this side of the house on this late hour, dear sir?“ She asked teasingly. He slowly walked over to her, stopping in front of her bed. 

„I missed you,“ he just said and her heart stopped, before it beat twice the speed again. He was dressed in a long white night gown, something he was not used to, as he told her, telling her that he usually slept naked, making her flush with warmth. 

Nibbling on her bottom lip she looked up at him.

„Would you like to spend the night with me, Marcus?“ She asked. He exhaled audibly, his eyes closing. 

„That was not my intention. But I have to admit I would love to,“ he said warmly. 

„What was your intention then?“ She asked.

„A good night kiss,“ he said and she could his cheek blushing slightly. 

„I already gave you three,“ she teased and he chuckled, before he pulled back the covers of her bed, slipping under neath them. He turned to her, his face almost touching her. 

His arm came to carefully rest on her hip over the blanket. 

„I will never have enough of you, sweet love,“ he whispered and she smiled, butterflies in her belly as she closed the distance between them, kissing him softly. 

The kisses quickly turned passionate, tongues playing with each other, hands exploring each others body. It was when Marcus leg slipped between her legs and she instinctly moved her hips, her breath stuttering against his lips that he stopped. Painting for air as he rested his forehead against hers.

„We should stop,“ he whispered.

„What if I don’t want to stop?“ She whispered back and he groaned. She could feel his manhood hard against her belly and she had read just enough to know what to do to make him feel good. 

Slowly she let her hand slip underneath the blanket, her finger finding his hard length, giving it a small squeeze. He moaned her name and she had never felt so powerful.

„While I want nothing more than to fuck your little pussy,“ she gasped at hearing those words, „I would prefer we wait until we are in my time. I don’t think I could stop myself from coming inside of you and while I love the idea of babies, we should wait at least a little to work on them,“ he said and she parted her lips in a small O. 

„There are ways in the future that prevent pregnancies?“ she asked, fascinated. 

„Several,“ he nodded, before kissing her again. 

„There are however certain other ways to explore each other without going the full way,“ he continued, slowly kissing down her neck. 

„Oh?“ She asked. 

„Would you like to let me show you?“ He kissed down to her collarbone, pulling at her nightgown, looking up at her with dark eyes. 

„Yes please,“ she gasped, her eyes slipping close as his lips kissed down her body. 

The masquerade ball was in full swing once Marcus and Peach entered the hall. Him dressed completely in black, the beautiful black velvet cloak she had let made for him, fitting him perfectly. His face was hidden behind a simple black mask. Yet she knew it would be him anywhere. 

She was wearing a deep green silk dress, with a mask that matched Marcus’.

After they…. Explored each others bodies until the early morning hours, they had woken up in each others arms, spending the whole morning in bed with Marcus wishing her a happy birthday in all ways he could think of.The both had drank the potion before having breakfast, sealing their decision with a kiss before they left her chambers to help with the last preparation for the ball. 

Yet when the time came, Marcus seemed to be easily distracted from the dress she was wearing. His fingers seemingly finding their way underneath it and inside of her, making her sing his name while the whole house was already filled with guests, leaving her being late to her own ball. 

Now they were dancing.

They were laughing and she couldn’t remember ever being that happy. 

It was a quarter to midnight when they made their way outside, drinking the second part of the potion she had made, sealing it yet again with a kiss. 

Her bother was waiting with them, away from all the guests. 

They said their goodbyes, her crying a little at the thought of never seeing him again. 

„Be happy,“ he whispered, before he kissed her forehead.

Marcus and him also said their goodbyes, her brother whispering something to Marcus to which he nodded, before Marcus joined her back, taking her hand. 

„Do you know what happens next?“ Her brother asked, to which she shook her head. 

She looked at Marcus as the church bell began to ring and he kissed her with a smile. 

And then. 

They were gone.

One year later

„Careful,“ Marcus stopped Peach as she was carrying another huge pumpkin. He rushed over to her while she rolled her eyes affectionately. He took the pumpkin from her, carrying it to the house. When he came back he pulled her against him, or as much as the belly between them let him, kissing her nose. 

„You are not allowed to carry anything heavy, doctors orders,“ he reminded her and she sighed, dramatic. Looking down she felt her black cat, Lucius the second, slip by her legs before he walked outside to where Marcus had left the door open. 

„It wasn’t that heavy,“ she pouted and he sighed, kissing her pout away. 

„When is the coven coming?“ He asked. 

„In about twenty minutes,“ she mumbled, jumping in the next moment when the dishwasher began to sing its little melody to inform them it was finished. 

She still was getting used to the future.

Both Marcus and her had been more than surprised when she did not only find her trinkets and things she had asked her brother to put in the back safe, but a significant amount of money and estates in her name. 

Which is why they were now living on a small farm close to Marcus’ sister who, much to Marcus’s surprise, was a witch too. 

„So we have enough time for some…“ he kissed down her neck making her sigh. 

„You know twenty minutes is nothing enough, my love,“ she hummed making him sigh. 

„Later?“ He asked. 

„Later,“ she nodded, kissing him. They enjoyed each others embrace when they both felt a kick from her stomach, both chuckling. Marcus hand slipped onto her belly, another kick following. She put her hand on top of his, the ring he had put on her finger only last week at a small ceremony in their garden, sparkling in the light. 

Even though the future came with an overwhelming amount of new things they learned that contraceptives weren’t as reliable as Marcus thought.

Their little one was due in four months.

„I love you,“ she said and the smile he gave her was almost blinding. 

„I love you more,“ he hummed. 

„In every century?“ She asked and he chuckled. 

„In each and every one you find me,“ he smiled against her lips as he leaned down to kiss her. 

[miley1442111]

pride-part one. (a.hotchner, s.reid)

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: both of them love you, but you will be there for you?

pairing: potential aaron hotchner x gideonreader, potential spencer reid x gideonreader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, gore and brief descriptions of harm, fighting, mentions of child abuse, mutual pining, heavy topics, angst, death, illusions to smut, etc.

Aaron Hotchner prided himself on three things, his career, his son (though he did not pride himself on his parenting, only Haley’s), and his patience. 

Two of those things were on the line the second you joined the BAU. You had joined the BAU 7 months ago. When Strauss had told him he was getting a new profiler, and that this profiler would be a licensed psychiatrist and former Agent Gideon’s daughter, he was ecstatic, prepared for your insight and helpful ideas. When you walked into his office on that fateful morning, his excitement was crushed and replaced with an overwhelming sense of desire and disgust with his own feelings. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer Reid believed he couldn’t be loved. He had been rejected and shut down by everyone. Jj, being the most recent. He saw Gideon as a surrogate father, so he was interested to see what his daughter was like. He had not expected you. Your wit and intelligence actually matched his, your beauty truthfully made his mind blank, and your kindness pulled him in further. He was utterly fucked. 

Both of them were. 

——————————-------------------------------------------------------

“Dr. Gideon!” Spencer sped over to you the second you opened the door to the bullpen. “Y/n,” he smiled and you smiled back. 

“Morning Doctor,” you had never stopped using his title within the walls of the FBI building. You only called him by his name outside of work, which was rare considering you rarely went on nights out, choosing to stay home with a book instead. Something Spencer would prefer, but he always agreed to the nights out, in hopes that you’d choose to tag along. 

“How are you?” He asked, trying to create conversation. 

“I’m fine thanks, how are you? How was the festival this weekend? Sorry I couldn’t go.” He knew shouldn’t have allowed his heart to swell at you remembering his weekend plans, considering you also had an eidetic memory and the fact that you had bought him the ticket to go with you, but had to cancel in the end due to a family emergency. Yet his heart swelled all the same. 

“It was amazing, I finally had time to brush up on my-“ Spencer had begun a ramble, but Aaron’s voice rang through the bullpen, calling your name. You politely excused yourself and promised Spencer you’d be right back to hear all about the French film festival he had attended that weekend. 

You walked into Aaron’s office, a pleasant smile on your face. “You called, sir?”

“We have a case,” he gritted out. “It’s bad.”

“To be honest sir, I assume nothing less,” you admitted, but also knew there must have been more to this. “Was that all sir?”

“Is Dr. Reid distracting you from work?” Aaron asked and you were taken aback. 

“No sir, sorry. We’re just friends and he was filling me in about a film festival we were supposed to go to this weekend. I had a family emergency and had to cancel on him. I’ll get straight back to work, sorry again sir,” you answered truthfully, he dismissed you and closed the door behind you as you left.

His hands flew into his hair. He was jealous. He was jealous of Spencer. He was jealous that you and Spencer had plans and he hadn’t even heard you say his own name. You always called him sir. To say it didn’t go straight to his dick would be a lie, but it had gotten better since you’d joined the Bureau. He wanted you. He felt like he needed you. Though you were significantly younger than him and way out of his league in his eyes, he still wanted you. And he wanted you badly. But somehow, for once in his life, Spencer  had the upper hand. You and him had shared interests, you both spoke many languages, you were both equally intelligent (technically you had a higher IQ, at 188), and you were similar ages. Everyone on the team had literal bets on how long it would take you to get together, and he agreed with the logic. You were perfect for each other. You were essentially the same person, evenly matched, evenly blended. Yet it didn’t stop him from wanting you. He felt like nothing could.

You walked back to your desk, starting your work once again. Spencer snuck up behind you and started talking about the festival. You listened, offering small comments and nods in between his sentences as you worked on the reports for the last case. 

“Sorry guys,” Jj’s voice quieted the entire bullpen. “Another case.” 

You all walked into the conference room, Aaron already in there with Jj. Pictures of disfigured and bloodied people lined the screen and you grimaced, then recognised someone. You sat down as your stomach sank. It surely couldn’t be her, right?

“One of the victims, her name was Maisie-” You let out a whimper at the name of your sister. All eyes were on yours and you were out of the room before anyone could question you. You ran out of the conference room, over to your desk to grab your phone. You dialled your mothers number. No answer. 

You dialled your sister's number. No answer.  

You dialled your brother’s number. No fucking answer. 

You finally dialled your father’s number as Penelope and Emily stood in front of you, a worried expression on both their faces. 

“Hello?”

“Dad? Dad!” You left out a breath of relief. “What’s going on?”

“Kid, I’m so sorry-” He sighed. “Maisie and your mom, they’re gone.” 

Your heart stopped. You stopped breathing. You could only think about the last thing you’d said to your sister before you went no-contact. Your memories drowned out the pleas from your father and friends to calm down and know that it wasn’t your fault.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re being dramatic!” Maisie yelled, her head in her hands. 

“You don’t have to understand my decision, you just have to respect it,” you sighed, your bags packed at your feet. “I love you-”

“You don’t do this to someone you love!” Your sister screamed in your face, getting too close for comfort, in your opinion. 

“I love you Maisie. I really hope you get the help you need, but I refuse to be your punching bag anymore. Physically and emotionally. Goodbye.”

You had started to walk out the door when your mother spoke up, the first time in a year. 

“You’re not my daughter anymore. My daughter would never leave her family. You’re just like your poor-excuse of a father.”

“You’re not my sister anymore,’ your sister added. 

“Then I guess we don’t know each other then,” and with that, you left. And you never turned back. 

Leaving them broke you, but staying there would’ve killed you. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Y/n!” Derek’s voice brought you back to life, your father’s voice still speaking to you over the phone.  “Take a breath!” 

You had been hyperventilating for the past minute, everyone on the team was terrified. You were always the quiet and collected one. You always knew what to do. You were calm. You were logical.

Now, you were scared. You were mourning. You were grief-stricken. 

You hung up on your father, sitting in your desk chair. “It’s my mother and sister, they’re the victims.”

Your voice was calmer than you felt, which made you sick to your stomach. The faces of the entire team all dropped. Spencer moved to be closer to you, to comfort you, but he was stopped by Derek, it wasn’t the time to think about himself. It was time to think about you, and this case. Aaron shared a look with Jj. The killer was targeting your family. The killer was targeting you. 

Your phone rang again, your brother’s number popped up on your screen. You answered without hesitation and brought it to your ear. 

“Hey,” he sighed. He knew. 

“Hey.”

“You know?” He asked. 

“Yeah. Did you tell the kids yet?” you asked, referencing his children. “And Sophie?”

“Sophie got the call. I was at w-work. The kids don’t know. I’m so sorry Y/n.”

“I’m sorry too. I’ll be there soon-”

“Y/N,” he sighed. “I-in mom’s will, she finalised it a few months ago, she said you weren’t allowed at her funeral. I’m s-so sorry.” 

Your heart broke again. “It’s fine,” you blinked back the tears. “I’m fine. My teams are investigating-”

“I’ll see you soon Y/n.” 

He hung up. The office was silent. 

“Who was that?” Penelope asked softly, a hand in yours. 

“My brother. I need to go home,” You wiped your eyes. “I need to get my bag and we need to be in the air within the hour.” 

The team nodded and suddenly, everything was loud again. Life hadn't halted. The wind blew outside, the birds sang in the trees, the phones in the office didn't stop ringing, the sounds of keyboards hadn’t been silenced. 

That was just you. 

Only you. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Touching down in your hometown of 'Fighertown USA', San Diego felt surreal. Your brother, Michael, met you at the airstrip with his wife, Sophie and three children, Ryan, Freddie, and Georgia. They all ran up to hug you, red-rimmed eyes and deflated frames gave their grief away and made you forget about your own. You departed from the team to help with funeral preparations and to identify their bodies. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The team hadn’t stopped thinking about you, especially not Spencer or Aaron. Aaron was terrified for you, everyone was. Spencer wished he had been able to read the brief on the plane, wished he could’ve told you what danger you were in. You were what the unSub wanted. 

“Hotch I really think someone should go check on her, they’re all in danger-” Spencer tried to argue with him but he held a hand up to stop him.

“I’ve already sent police to the house and Derek and I will be staying there tonight,” Aaron was being selfish, he knew that. Keeping Spencer from you was childish and petty and he knew it. He knew it. But he also knew the only way he’d even be able to convince himself that you were alright is if he was with you. It was a miracle he had even let you go to leave with your family at the airstrip, he didn’t want to. The entire plane ride you’d been holding his hand, in his arms, or napping on his lap. He was grateful that you trusted him. He felt special, sue him.

“You and Derek? Can I come to check on her too-” Spencer tried. He wanted to keep a level-head, he truly tried, but he couldn’t. Not when Aaron dismissed him and walked off, getting ready to leave. Spencer caught up with him outside. “Hotch! Can I just come to check on her-”

“There’s going to be a lot of people around her, you don’t need to be one more,” he sighed. 

“And you won’t be?” he shot back, halting Aaron’s footsteps as Derek turned to him. “I actually know her. I spend time with her outside of the office,” was it a lie? No. But truthfully, it had only happened once, and it was only by chance. You went to the same cinema as him, and it turned out you both had tickets to the same film. You sat together, then got lunch. It was nice. He thought about it constantly.

“Spencer,” Aaron’s voice was a warning. “Do not do this right now.”

“Why not?” 

“Kid, drop it,” Derek sighed. “I’ll bring you to see her tomorrow. Now go work on the geological profile.” 

Derek and Aaron ducked into the SUV, leaving Spencer alone outside the station. He sighed and decided that he would be the one to bring the unSub in. He wanted you safe. That’s all he cared about. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Derek and Aaron reached your family home, they were amazed to see the amount of people there. Jason invited them in and explained the situation. He and your mother had divorced and he had left. Your sister had been abusive throughout your childhood, teenage years, and young adulthood. You didn’t tell him until you’d left. Aaron felt sick. You had been abused as a child. A terrible thought made its way into his head, maybe you did have something in common.

[ptn-imagines]

Hello hello!!

Notorious cat anon asking once again for Langley and f!chief but what if chief brought a cat or two she found on the streets home

Like the cat distribution striking the two lol

The idea of a sphinx cat that hates Langley and loves everyone else was too funny. Otherwise known as: Langley competes with a fucking cat for her girlfriend's attention.

F!Chief bringing a street cat home to Langley

The first thought Langley has is that this creature is the ugliest thing she has ever seen in her life. It’s an exaggeration, of course, but the cat definitely isn’t the cute and fluffy type people think of when they think of felines. In fact, it doesn’t have any fur at all, which is what contributed to the initial reaction in the first place.

After realizing that Chief is in fact holding a cat, and not some hairless Mania abomination, though, Langley smiles. It’s just a sphinx cat, albeit a particularly thin and ragged one. And though she won’t admit it aloud, being cuddled up with the Chief like that certainly lends it a great deal of cuteness factor.

Langley can’t help but tease Chief about picking up strays – a little nod to her Sinners, though of course, this time the Bureau’s new resident is a stray. She pretends to hum and posture about keeping more animals in the MBCC, but Langley already knows she’ll be letting the cat stay. She appreciates the intelligence and independence of felines, though it certainly doesn’t hurt that Chief is looking at her with the wet eyes of a stray kitten herself.

However, it becomes almost immediately apparent that the cat hates Langley. He’s cuddled up and purring without a care in the world in Chief’s arms, but the moment the director approaches, his claws are out and he’s hissing and spitting with vindictive fury.

Judging by the look on Chief’s face, Langley figures she’s expecting her to take back her approval now  that the cat has lashed out at her. Instead, Langley just chuckles and says that as long as nobody gets hurt, the feline can be as grouchy as he likes.

She finds out later that she’s the only one the cat hates. He’s more than content to curl up on the laps of literally anyone else in the Bureau and be stroked. In fact, naming duties ended up falling into the hands of some of the younger Sinners – they decided on “Fluffy.” For a hairless cat. Langley is amused.

Fluffy lives a pampered life in the Bureau, and he’s soon allowed to come into hypnotherapy sessions to soothe nervous Sinners. If he’s not cuddling up with one of the inmates or rubbing against their legs, though, he is almost always with Chief.

This includes, somehow, every time Langley needs to go see her. He kicks up a fuss whenever she appears and if they lock him outside the room, he won’t stop howling and scratching at the door. It amused Langley at first – at least until she realized she was competing with a damn cat.

Still, Langley is neither cruel nor heartless, despite the reputation she’s carefully curated for herself as the Silver Spider, and she won’t deprive the Bureau of what has become an integral member of it. So, instead, she changes tactics.

Despite her incredibly busy schedule, she takes time out of it to go and sit in whatever room Fluffy is in. At first, it goes exactly as one would predict – he goes into his usual feline hissy fits, yowling up a storm, though Langley notes he never takes a swipe at her unless she gets too close.

As time goes on, the yowling dies into low growls and then into suspicious glaring. When she walks into a room one day and Fluffy looks at her only for a moment before going back to sleep, Langley can’t help but smile. Meanwhile, everyone else in the Bureau suffers from increasing confusion as to why the Director of the 9th Agency is spending more and more time doing… nothing?

The crux of the whole plan comes one day when Langley walks into her office and finds Fluffy curled up on her chair. Mission: befriend Chief’s cat, success.

It’s a relief to not be competing with a cat for Chief’s attention anymore, and as for Chief? Well, she’s just glad Fluffy no longer screams bloody murder whenever Langley walks into the room.

[baronneutron]

ISB Special Agent Tarrant

Special Agent Zyn Tarrant, Imperial Security Bureau  - character art by mikonatic; character concept by me ------------------------------------------------------------------- Name: Zyn Tarrant SN: I78-S29-B01 DOB: 7936.2.20 (Age 45) Rank: Special Agent       Specialty: Counter-Intelligence     Description: Species – Human / Gender – M / Skin – Light / Hair – Light brown (greying) / Height – 1.8 m / Eyes – Blue / Build – Athletic     Service Branch: ISB Command: Mid-Rim Unit: Zeleroq Field Office Current Assignment: Special Agent in Charge, Zeleroq Sector   Family Status: Divorced, 2 children Previous Assignments: Cruiser Dagger; accepted to ISB; Mid-Rim ISB Office; Field Agent, X’Toc Sector; ASAC, Manta Sector   OIC Comments: “Agent Tarrant is a strict adherent for the letter of the law.  Any being who follows the law of the Empire will be treated well by him, but step of the line and he will bring down the hammer.”   Decorations: multiple citations, 3 medals for valor/combat ------------------------------------------------------------------- Notes/Background: Zyn is a late-comer to ISB, having begun his career and spending a good deal of time in the Navy before transferring. Most would say of him he might be further up the ISB ladder (or the Naval Ladder if he had stayed) if not for his time in the Navy first. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Personality:  I tried to play him a little high strung.  It is not that he cracked under pressure, its just that he responds to it with shouting and being angry.  He is very confident his position; he knows the law and holds himself to following the law in every way.  This includes rooting out Imperials who are not Rebels, but are lawbreakers.  If you are an Admiral, General, Moff, or whoever trying to use your rank, title, or position illegally, he will take you down.  In this respect, he might be viewed as a potential ally to Rebels as they also wish to take down Imperials, but Rebels should think twice about thinking he is on their side.  That said, he sees the flaws in the Empire and knows many abuse their power and that atrocities happen; the difference is he feels these people are breaking the law and that once he weeds all of them out the Empire will stand for law and justice.  This has made him some enemies.  While it is true he sometimes abuses his staff, they soon learn that he is doing it, at least from his perspective, in support of the Empire.  He typically apologizes and treats them well overall, offering any and all rewards allowed under the law.  Many realize it is not personal against them.      I wanted to give him something to attract the players' eye, so one of his main flaws is that he is a bit of a cad.  He wasted no time on arriving at his new assignment in Zeleroq (around the same time as the players) in establishing a girlfriend on as many planets as he could; he looks for women he likes in careers that typically keep them on their planet of residence.  It was the main area he was reprimanded for by his Regional Supervisor (his opinion of his Sector Supervisor on Coruscant is very low) recently due to the attack on Valdra during the recent Empire Day festivities; Colonel Dayna Knyvette, the ISB Director for the Mid-Rim Region, felt that he would have better served the Empire by being there in persona to help coordinate the response instead of "serving himself" on leave.  They both knew that Tarrant had done everything by the book in setting up security and count-intelligence procedures, but Col Knyvette felt a warning was in order.   ------------------------------------------------------------------- Notes/Background/Vague threads: - "Template" actor Gideon Emery who I saw in the Castle episode “Almost Famous”  - Zeleroq Sector’s Lead ISB Agent

[takadasaiko]

A Flicker of Light Chapter Nineteen

Story Summary: A canon divergent AU in which Luke Skywalker is raised within the Empire to be either his father's heir as a Sith Lord… or his replacement.

Chapter Summary: Luke joins Mara in a race against the clock to try to capture a piece of intelligence before the Rebels can get it.

FFN II AO3

---

There was a desperate attempt to quiet his own fears that resulted in the opposite effect. It looked like hardened resolve to the untrained eye, but she could see the way his jaw clenched to keep his teeth from chattering and how his nails dug into his own palms to avoid obviously trembling hands. The traitor sat forward on the hard bench in his cell, shoulders hunched and the soles of his boots planted firmly as if he were ready to rock forward to stand at any given minute. He still wore the Imperial Navy uniform, even if his insignia had been stripped from it. What it must have taken for a man of his rank to be willing to betray his Empire… Well, it was time she found out. She couldn't wait any longer. Luke would get there when he got there.

Mara turned on her heel from the viewing window and moved to the cell door. The stormtrooper opened the door without a word and she paced herself as she made her way down the steps. One. Two. Three. Four. Each step solid, her boots clanking against the permasteel, and she stopped at the bottom, her green gaze focused on him.

"Arrick Los, do you know why you're here?"

The traitor looked up at her, the black eye he'd received during his arrest evident. He took a moment and Mara watched him gather himself, seemingly desperate not to allow his teeth to chatter when he released the pressure in his jaw so he could speak. Finally, the muscles eased. "The ISB seems to think I handed intel over to the enemy."

Mara tried not to roll her eyes. The ISB had once been a truly formidable arm of Imperial justice. They were unmatched in the way they drained every drop of intelligence out and crushed those that wished to do harm to the Empire. They had been impressive once, but even with only a fraction of her attention on this case Mara had brought Los in. The Imperial Security Bureau had had nothing to do with it other than allowing one of their own to defect and open up a cataclysmic security breach. Perhaps her recommendation should have included Colonel Yularen's retirement if he was willing to allow his organization to grow so lax.

"In the last three standard months you have accessed Imperial prison databases. Narkina 5, Jendorn, Maw, and even Dathomir. You've made regular checks to the prison barges."

"I'm a Transport Officer. It's my job to know where the prisoners are going and ensure they get there without mishap," the traitor snapped.

"A thirty-five percent increase from the average coming from your station."

"I'm thorough."

"Perhaps," Mara acknowledged as her gaze swept him up and down, taking in every twitch and every darting glance. "And if that's true, then you will have backup reports submitted to your superior officers that will show what case those unaccounted searches were attached to."

Los' eyes widened a fraction at that and he shifted back to put some distance between them or, possibly, to have a better view of his surroundings. There was a long moment of silence, but she could feel the shift in his emotions. "You're not ISB. This isn't an ISB holding…" He blinked, his gaze flickering to the lightsaber hanging from her belt. "You're her, aren't you?"

Mara held his increasingly nervous gaze. "I dispense the Emperor's justice. You're only a pawn, Los. Provide me with actionable intel that leads to the source of this security breach and I will ensure you have a fair trial."

The Rebel's gaze hardened at that. "There are no fair trials in Palpatine's Empire."

Behind her, the door slid open to reveal a Naval Officer. She hid her frustration behind a bland expression as she met him at the steps to keep the conversation private. "You can tell him that he can wait for me now."

A jolt of surprise flashed across the man's face. "Forgive me, but Lord Vader —"

"Natus," Mara corrected and the officer shook his head.

"No sir. We just received word that we should expect the Executor."

Dank farrik. The ISB certainly hadn't called him in, so either Vader had received word of Los' capture and was taking it on himself to try to extract the intel from the traitor or Palpatine had assigned his Apprentice to the situation. It really didn't matter. Either was a problem. Vader had the same discretion as she had - perhaps more - when no direct assignment had been given. The issue was that she'd received her assignment and she was yet to find a way to fulfill it. If Vader had chosen to interrogate Los or if the Emperor had directed him to do so really didn't matter. An argument between them would only be settled by their Master and she knew what he wanted.

Mara's raging thoughts stilled for just a moment on that. She knew exactly what Palpatine wanted from her.

No clear and subtle path had presented itself to drive a wedge between father and son and - despite that nagging little voice in her mind that told her that she'd been avoiding it to push the pain it would cause him down the line just a bit further - the security breach left behind by former Agent Kallus was dangerous. Vader would shatter the traitor before he broke him, leaving the Rebels to scatter and their Fulcrum agent the freedom to continue making fools of the Empire. But while she'd sent word to Luke to join her to buy some time to focus on this issue, this could be an opportunity. If nothing else, it gave her leverage if it had to be taken to the Emperor.

"When are you expecting them?"

"Six standard hours, sir."

"And the Aeres?"

"Has not commed us since the call was routed to you."

She pulled in a breath. Typical. That could still work. She had six hours to get actionable intel from Los. Even if Vader beat Luke there, she could send new coordinates. If Luke won the race he didn't know he was participating in, even better. Luke enjoyed competition. It was Vader that always chose to make a war of it.

---

He'd learned loyalty at an early age. His father had never called it that, but Luke had known what it was, even if he hadn't always understood the words associated with it. Loyalty was dedication, even when there was strain. Loyalty was trust, even when the other wasn't always forthcoming. Loyalty was devotion, even when it put his own life in jeopardy. Loyalty was love.

And Luke loved Mara Jade.

Time was limited and with what he'd learned about the Death Star, he needed to go to Alderaan and speak with Bail Organa, but Mara had called. She wanted his help. She needed his help. He couldn't tell her no, even if the more rational side of his brain screamed at him that he should. What good would offering Organa what he'd offered the man do if Palpatine used the Death Star to wipe the Rebellion out? With them gone the Emperor would have even more power than he had now and he could force a decision. Either Luke or his father would meet his end. It was the nightmare that stayed with him long after he woke and bubbled into a fear that he was desperately trying to use steady his own resolve. They lived in dangerous times and every step counted, but what good would it be to stop Sidious from destroying part of his family if he pushed the women he loved away in the process?

So Luke had gone. Of course he'd gone. And he would help her with whatever assignment she wanted his help with and then jet over to wherever he found Han Solo to hitch a ride to Alderaan. Simple. He hoped it would be, at any rate.

He didn't recognise the ship that he'd received coordinates to, but he didn't have any trouble boarding. The Empire recognized the Aeres, even if it was hit and miss if Imperials recognized Lord Natus himself. He strode in with every confidence and made his way back to the prisoner block where she'd told him that she'd meet him. What she needed, he wasn't quite sure of. Presumably he'd find out when he got there.

"Wait here," he instructed Barrix - the single stormtrooper he'd chosen to bring with him - when they came to the cell.

Luke was reaching for the panel as the door slid open, Mara appearing there. Her gaze was sharp, as if she were coming out of an intense interrogation. It took a moment for that gaze to fix on him with any recognition, but once it did it softened a fraction - only a fraction - and she tilted her head to the side. "Good of you to join us."

"I'm a talented pilot, but even I haven't cracked how to push a ship faster than the hyperspace lanes'll allow," he offered with a shrug and risked a glance past her. Deep in the cell was a single man, cuffed and his chin rested against his chest in utter defeat. He wore an Imperial Navy uniform that had been stripped of its ranking badges and his feet were bare against the cold permasteel. He turned back to Mara. "Defector?"

"Traitor," she specified. "He's working for Fulcrum."

The name struck a different chord than it might have only a couple months prior. "What did you get from him?"

"A location."

"Their base?"

"The drop. We'll intercept the intel that he left there prior to being captured. Kallus will come looking for it."

"You seem confident on that one."

"They've just lost a major asset and they'll be desperate for the last scrap of intel they can gain from him. We can use that. You're good with taking the Aeres, right?"

Luke studied her for a long moment, working to discern just how much she knew about the situation and how much she was relying on the way people so often worked. It could be that Los had given her everything from the location to his procedure to an expectation on how their Fulcrum agent would react. They would have contingencies in place, certainly. And if the intelligence that Los had left for them was important enough, perhaps Mara was right. Kallus would come to get it, despite the risk. Not that she was giving him anymore than she had, it would seem.

But loyalty was trust and someday, perhaps very soon, Luke would desperately need Mara to trust him, even when she didn't understand. For now, he'd choose to trust her and hope that it didn't put him at odds with his unconfirmed alliance with Bail Organa.

---

Imperial officers scurried to the walls of the corridors as Vader stalked through, each man and woman standing with their spine straight and eyes forward, a bit of sweat gathering as he passed them. They didn't matter. Only the prisoner that he'd received word that they held on their ship was of any importance to him. They had him. He wanted him. It should have been a simple demand.

And it would have been, even with Mara Jade slipping in from the shadows and trying to steal the intel away. She had no immediate exit, at least as far as his own intelligence had provided him. He cared little for if she knew what the traitor had to say or not. What mattered was what she was capable of doing with that information. Nothing. That had been the aim, at any rate, but between the time that the intelligence had reached him and when the Executor had come out of hyperspace, Jade had secured a ship. And not just any ship. She'd left out on the Aeres.

Darth Vader felt his temper boil as the officer relayed what he knew, his anxiety showing in the way that he stammered and twitched. It was irritating. It was a waste of time.

"And did you not think I wished to speak to her directly?"

"My lord?" the young officer managed.

He too was a waste of time. Vader's fingers twitched and the officer's nick twisted until it snapped. The Dark Lord loosed a frustrated sigh that sounded like a typical release of breath through his mask. He turned to the officer - higher or lower rank mattered little - that had been standing behind the now-dead-man. "Where is the prisoner?"

Fear permeated the room, giving him the answer without words: not only had Jade taken the intelligence with her on his son's ship, but she'd taken the source of the intelligence as well. The girl had overstepped herself this time. Emperor's Hand or not, this had not been her assignment. Los had not been hers to take and, if she managed to use him to get to their traitorous ISB agent, Vader would make sure that he was there to retake control of the situation. If she had gone to Luke out of sentiment or in an attempt to use son against father, she'd sealed her own fate on this one.

The Dark Lord moved past the sniveling officer and he fell to the floor, writhing as he struggled to breathe. He would find them. He could always find his son.

----

The change had happened gradually over the last nearly two decades. The rebellion had started with just a handful of people, and certainly fewer than they had needed. Bit by bit it grew. In fragments and in fits and starts, often with every sign pointing to destruction over victory. At discovery before they were strong enough to survive the attack that would swiftly follow.

But then, somewhere along the way, it had started to pull together. There were still outliers like Saw Gerarra's group, but there had been a shift in the rebellion that Bail had almost given up on. The Alliance was still new and it often felt like it rested on shifting ground, but it was there. If they just had a little more time, they could gain the footing they needed. Padme's son could give them that, especially if what he'd told Bail was true. They needed him. Bail just had to convince them of that.

There was a buzz of activity at the base on Yavin IV to the point that Bail almost hadn't received clearance to land. When he finally set down he found himself dodging pilots and foot soldiers alike. Something was happening, but no one stopped long enough to fill him in on what.

He made his way into the temple where the faces began to look familiar. It wasn't until he reached the inner chambers that he found the person he was looking for. Mon Mothma stood speaking with an ISB defector that had become one of their leading Fulcrum agents. With them stood a dark haired agent that Luthen Rael had brought into the fold before his untimely demise. The smaller nodded in agreement before turning on hee, melting into the crowds of people as Bail moved towards the remaining two.

"Senator Organa," Kallus greeted, his topside Coruscanti accent standing out amongst the collection of beings from all around the galaxy.

"Captain," the former senator greeted after a quick glance at the insignia on his jacket. "Mon, when you have a moment?"

"Keep me apprised," Mon directed at the Fulcrum agent and he gave her a particularly sharp nod born out of years of Imperial training.

"Yessir." He took the dismissal, leaving Bail and Mon standing in a pocket amongst the chaos.

She loosed a soft sigh. "One of our Fulcrum assets has been compromised. Arrick Los."

"The Imperial officer with access to the prison systems?"

"One in the same."

"Is this a rescue mission then?"

"Precaution. Los knows the location of this base. If he's broken, we won't have much time before the Empire comes for us." Discomfort lay under each word, but rather than explain she shook her head. "I hope you've brought better news."

Bail pushed a breath out through his nose, glancing around. "Yes and no. Luke Skywalker paid me a visit at my home."

He watched her reaction, curious if Ashoka had let anyone but him in on the secret about Anakin Skywalker's fate and Padme's son. From the sadness that pulled at her, it appeared she knew. "Is there anything left of the boy after this long?"

"More than I would have suspected, if he was telling me the truth."

"About what?"

"A weapon. He called it a Death Star. Aptly named in that, when completed, it's expected to be able to destroy an entire planet."

Mon Mothma took in the information with the same measured grace that he'd known for years in the Senate. "That explains the rumours."

"Rumours?"

Mon Mothma glanced around the room. "No one knows for sure. We've only heard pieces about a defecting pilot with information. Saw caught hold of him before we could."

Bail sighed heavily. "He won't see the light of day again."

"Likely not."

"Luke may be able to help with that. He said he has an in with the director of the project. He's convinced him to conduct an experiment, see how far it's come along."

"And he just gave you this information?" Mom asked skeptically.

"He wants out."

His old friend pursed her lips together. "Vader's son… a lot of risk with that."

"He is Padme's son as well."

"Even so…"

He had banked on her affection for the late senator from Naboo to carry enough weight. What he hadn't been ready for was the Alliance facing a security breach that could send them scurrying off to all corners of the galaxy. It hadn't been that long since some of them had fought the Battle of Atallon. Another setback would delay all the progress they'd made.

"I understand the risk. Even more so in this moment —"

"If we take it to the council now, they'll never agree to it. Sealing the breach Los' capture has opened up is paramount."

"Even with this Death Star looming?"

Mon Mothma's auburn brows drew together at that and Bail watched the subtle lines in her face deepen. "Even with that," she acknowledged softly, the strain making it into her voice as well. "I'm not saying no. Only patience."

"Something tells me he doesn't have a lot of that, but… I'll make it work."

She reached a hand out, her fingers light against his arm. "Good. Give Breha and Leia my best."

"Of course." He watched her turn to leave, but didn't move himself, even as others scurried around him. They were standing on a precipice, and one wrong step would send them crashing down. Promises made that couldn't be kept might make an enemy of a friend, but for his part, he'd fight to make sure the promises he made to Luke were honoured.

He just had to make sure Luke was willing to fight for the same.

---

Anger followed them as the Aeres sped through hyperspace, the sharp and bitter echoes through the Force familiar. It wasn't aimed at him, though, at least not directly, which left Luke with the more likely possibility that Mara and his father were competing for the same bit of intel and Mara had gotten to it first. It certainly wasn't the first time the two had clashed over an assignment, but with his own position precarious enough, he didn't think he wanted any surprises coming from either of them.

He found Mara standing alone in a large, empty room with a viewing window that took up the majority of the space-side wall. She didn't turn to look at him as he entered, but instead her gaze was fixed on the streaks of stars, a muted conflict all he was getting when he reached out through the Force.

"Everything's set with Los in the brig. You still want to take him down with us?"

Mara didn't look over at the question, but her own unsteadiness seemed to even out as she focused on the task at hand. "Yes."

"He's a liability."

"He's a guarantee. If I know anything about how the ISB trains their agents, Kallus will have eyes and ears all over the town next to the base. If he knows we have Los there, it'll put the pressure on him to move."

Luke considered the strategy for a moment. She'd spent far more time around the ISB than he had, even with his time stationed on Lothal when Kallus had been working for his father. It was one of the reasons that Palpatine had tasked her to help plug the security leaks created by Kallus' defection. If the Empire was good at one thing, it was drilling the same exact training into each and every member of a particular group. Stormtroopers, pilots, Imperial Security Bureau… It was rare that an Imperial soldier stepped outside of the carefully constructed box, and even when they did - even when they went as far as Kallus had - there was always going to be a trace of that training pulling on them and giving someone like Mara a weakness to exploit.

"Still doesn't explain why I'm here."

"What do you mean?"

"In my experience, you have no trouble finding a ride when you need to hop systems," Luke answered.

"I wanted this one."

"You do get what you want."

That pulled the tiniest of smiles from her. "And you don't?"

"So you're telling me that I'm just the ride?" He waited and her mental walls solidified a little bit more as if she wanted to make doubly sure that her private thoughts were her own. "Or did you steal this out from under my father and you're hoping he'll be in a more generous mood if I'm along?"

Finally she broke her staring contest with the stars and turned to look at him. "What did he say?"

"Nothing," Luke chuckled. "I can just feel it two systems away. He's not happy."

"He's never happy."

He loosed a breath, willing the frustration that was bubbling up inside of him away. "I'm not a tool in your weapons depot, Mara. I get that you've been wrapped up in trying to plug the intel leaks with Kallus' defection, but I don't like being used against my father. You know that."

There was a long moment and he felt that subtle conflict just under the surface again before she pursed her lips together. "That's not why you're here. I called you before I knew he was on his way. I didn't want some faceless, nameless troopers with me on this one. I wanted someone that I could trust. That I know has my back if something goes wrong. That's why I called you. That's why you're here."

Luke let the words sink in and swirl around his mind for a moment. They felt true, even if she wasn't saying everything. She never said everything.

"Are we good?"

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Of course. Just… don't ask me to play mediator between the two of you. That never goes well."

Mara snorted and Luke tilted his head towards the door. "It's a great view from here, but even better from the bridge when we come out of hyperspace."

He watched her smile break through, small and real, and he couldn't help but echo it.

----

They made it to the Jendorn system without mishap and left the Aeres in orbit as they took a shuttle down to the planet below, choosing to land at the small spaceport in town rather than the larger one inside of the Imperial prison compound, Los in tow. It was busy, crowded with both locals and a heavy Imperial presence alike. Mara scanned the crowd as Luke handled their docking fee, trying to calm her mind enough to allow her feelings to pick up on anything that her eyes might miss.

"None of us are walking away from this," Los said from her side, the first words he'd spoken since they'd left out on the Aeres.

"I promised you a trial. I didn't bring you here to execute you."

"I didn't say you'd be the one to kill me."

Mara risked a glance at the man, resolve set firmly into the lines on his face. Behind them, Luke approached and whatever hesitation or questions he'd had previously had been put away. He was focused. Good. Something deep inside of her said they'd need every bit of that.

His blue gaze slid over to latch onto Los. "What are we walking into?"

The captured defector swallowed hard. "Down the main street, off to the right there's a building with a market in the alley. Three flights up and at the far end there's a room. That's where the communication system is hidden. I told her all that already."

"That's not what I mean," Luke answered lowly.

"Then what do you mean?"

Blue eyes flickered to meet green and Mara didn't like the sudden shift in his mood. Something was wrong - something that she'd missed between the search for intel and Vader and her Master's directive all warring for a place at the forefront of all of this - but even Luke didn't know what.

Nothing appeared to be out of place, and if they gave the Rebels any more time they would take off with the intel and Vader would find a way to steal Los from her. She'd walk away with nothing save for the Emperor's disapproval in her distraction. "Let's go."

They moved through the streets on high alert, the buildings made up of the yellow and orange clay native to the planet on either side. Chatter echoed from the market Los had spoken of as they rounded down the way.

They were five steps away from the entrance when the shots rang out, a fraction of a second's warning through the Force barely giving them enough time to draw their lightsabers. One blaster bolt ricocheted off of Luke's crimson blade, searing the outer wall of the building. The second hit its mark.

A sharp curse left Mara as their prisoner dropped hard and she followed the trajectory of the shot to see a figure on the rooftops. "There!" she shouted, motioning.

Luke didn't say a word, but leapt into action as the figure took a running leap from his perch to the building they'd been about to enter. The building the intel was stored in.

Los coughed hard from where he'd crimped and Mara took a knee next to him, civilians running and screaming all around. "You knew Kallus would take you out."

The dying man choked on a mirthless chuckle. "It's not Kallus you should be worried 'bout."

Shouts from stormtroopers on their way into the middle of the chaos drew her attention as Los slipped away. Let them deal with the body. She'd dragged Luke into this. While he could likely handle whatever was up there, he shouldn't have to do it alone. She wouldn't let him fight it alone.

---

TBC

Notes: I live! Sorry for the delay on this chapter. This has definitely been one of those chapters where I'd write scenes just to scrap them for a different angle halfway or more through. It's been a rough one to write, but hopefully the back half of it will be a bit easier now that we've hit the brunt of the action for it.

Next Time: Luke is caught between loyalties on multiple fronts.

[couldntbedamned]

Goodbye Grey Sky, Hello Blue - 16

Summary: In an alternate universe where trains and zeppelins are still common forms of travel and the internet and cell phones exist, nineteen year old Peter Parker has few options left after he’s swindled out of his inheritance. Unable to pay for college, let alone keep the house left to him by his deceased aunt, he’s running out of time before he’s out on the streets. Desperate, Peter signs his life over to the Bureau of Civic Spousal Selections to take his chances as the selected husband of a complete stranger. After all, he only has to make it through a year and then he can choose to annul.

Dr. Stephen Strange has little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on his career. When his career is threatened by what a nosy board of directors considers a “lack of personal fulfillment and settling down,” he opts to select a spouse through the BCSS and chooses Peter Parker. The young man’s profile he’d briefly skimmed suggests intelligence and compatibility. It’s not ideal, but if after a year it’s not working out, he can always annul the marriage and send Peter on his way.

It’s a marriage neither truly wants, with sharp learning curves for both. It’s either going to be forever or it’s going to go down in flames.

Warnings/AO3 Tags: 18+ MINORS DNI, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s/Modern Fusion, Doctor Stephen Strange, Jewish Peter Parker, Peter Parker is of Legal Age, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contracts, Government Sanctioned Marriages, Domestic Discipline, Dubiously Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Aftercare, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Morals, Dubious Ethics, Asshole Stephen Strange, Smartass Peter Parker

Notes: Please remember to read the tags/warnings listed and read/avoid as best for you. YOU are responsible for the content you chose to consume on the internet.

<<<>>>

Chapter 16

<<<>>>

That following Wednesday morning saw Stephen driving to Upper York to take the first zeppelin to Chicago.

He’d told Peter he was free to sleep in, but Peter had insisted on getting up with him at five-thirty that morning. He’d cooked Stephen a hot breakfast and gave him a small container of snacks for his flight. “Just in case you get hungry,” he said.

“I’ll call you when I touch down in Chicago,” Stephen told him. “Clea said she and Ava will be happy to help if an emergency pops up while I’m gone. You have my mobile number if you need to get ahold of me. Behave and take care of yourself, understood?”

Peter nodded. “You take care of yourself, too,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

Stephen stood for a moment as if stuck, then kissed his forehead and left.

It wasn’t even seven in the morning, but Peter had no desire to go back to sleep. Not when Stephen wouldn’t be there. Not when Stephen was off to do a surgery that even he was unsure of.

Their weekend had been quiet. Stephen had spent most of Saturday and Sunday up in his office, only interrupted by Peter insisting he come downstairs for lunch and then again for dinner. He’d been sure to give Peter his full attention during the meals and now that Peter understood why Stephen had been so withdrawn, he didn’t mind spending the rest of those days with only the radio or a book for company.

What was he going to do with himself until the weekend?

He ran for a couple of hours, lapping the mile-long circuit of the park six times before he allowed himself to consider the rest of the week.

There wasn’t much for him to do, he thought as he stretched and walked-off his cool down.

He could clean the already tidy house, obviously. Or maybe he could see about finishing all the laundry for once, without him and Stephen immediately sentencing a set of sheets to the washer because Stephen enjoyed making Peter release all over them as much as he enjoyed spending himself deep inside Peter. Maybe he could find another radio show to follow. He enjoyed the gossipy small-town drama of Winding Road Whispers and of course, he loved listening to the ridiculous exploits of Rex Gladstone, Ace Detective.

He could - and he forced himself not to shudder at the prospect - go shopping and buy some decor suited to the cooler autumn temperatures. Nothing outrageous, but an autumn themed tablecloth or runner would be nice, he supposed, maybe with a wreath for the front door. He could turn his attention to the yard; the flower beds would need to be prepared for them upcoming winter and he’d always liked the look of chrysanthemums.

He shook his head as he went inside Stephen’s house, which had started to feel like his house, and maybe one day could feel like a home. It was hard to believe he pondered interior decorating and landscaping when he’d once planned to be so busy with college, he’d barely be able to sleep. He’d thought his days would be full of labs and writing research papers, not laundry and cooking meals for his husband.

Peter realized that he wasn’t even upset about that, really. He lived in a beautiful house, wore high-quality, comfortable clothing that fit him, and was able to eat according to the dietary laws he’d had to mostly forego alongside his Aunt May after his Uncle Ben had died and money had been so tight that survival had been more important than keeping kosher. He had a husband who had gone out of his way to marry him and seemed to care about him, though his aloof manner made it hard to tell most of the time.

And there was the sex.

Oh, the sex was incredible, and he didn’t just think that because he had nothing else to compare it to. Like any teenage boy who had discovered his dick and what it could do and how good it could feel, he’d masturbated plenty. From the ages of thirteen to seventeen it had been one of his favorite hobbies and he hadn’t worried about actual sex. He’d always assumed he’d find someone, fall in love, and then the sex would happen naturally and that would be that.

He hadn’t expected to have his life fall apart only to be bought by a strict, stupidly handsome older man of a selecting husband who hadn’t hesitated to put him on his belly and use him so thoroughly Peter doubted he’d ever forget that first fuck. He hadn’t expected his husband would lock his cock in a cage to incentivize good behavior. Or, most importantly, he’d never expected that he’d like it.

“It’s stupid,” Peter complained while Stephen put the cage back on him one day a few weeks into their marriage. "It’s my cock!"

Stephen looked up at him with a smirk. “Not anymore, it’s not,” he said. "It belongs to me, just like the rest of you. And I will pleasure it whenever and however I see fit."

He engaged the lock and stood up, giving the caged cock a fond little pat as he often did. “There’s pleasure in the wait, after all.”

“Pleasure for who?” Peter asked, still annoyed.

“For both of us, provided you behave,” Stephen said. “Now, I’m off to work. Be good and I’ll see you when I get home this evening.”

Peter’s face flushed as he recalled that exchange. There had been several times when Stephen had taken him while he’d still been caged and even though Peter hadn’t had an orgasm those times, he’d still enjoyed the feel of Stephen splitting him open and driving into him again and again. He enjoyed how close Stephen would hold him, the low groans and rare profanity he’d let out as he sought his release. And the feel of Stephen spilling inside of him, the flood of heat that settled in him before sluggishly leaking out was something Peter savored.

Maybe he was messed in the head or a victim of the alleged “Selected Spouse Syndrome” the anti-BCSS protestors were always trying to claim.

Peter didn’t think he was, though. BCSS marriage or not, he didn’t think it was wrong to enjoy sex with his husband. And despite how fiercely independent he’d always been (or maybe because of it) he didn’t believe it was wrong to finally let someone else be in charge and take care of him for a change. Even if that would be easier said than done.

Stephen phoned Peter’s mobile when he disembarked from the zeppelin. There wasn’t much of a time difference between Sanctum Heights, New Amsterdam and Chicago, North Illinois, only an hour. The flight had been tedious as usual, and he was a little annoyed with himself that he’d eaten a few of the snacks Peter had packed for him out of boredom. He’d finished his book and started the next in the series, only for the older lady in the seat to his left to start snoring so loudly he wondered if she’d ever had a sleep study done.

Peter answered after two rings. “Hi!”

“Good afternoon,” he said. “I’ve touched down in Chicago and I’ll be picking up my luggage before heading to the hospital’s apartments.”

“Good!” Peter said. “Your flight was okay?”

“It was just fine,” he said. He smiled; hearing Peter’s voice warmed him. “Nothing to write home about, which is what any traveler should hope for when it comes to flying or riding in a train.”

“My Uncle Ben used to say the same thing,” Peter said with a laugh.

Something in him ached. Was he already missing Peter so soon?

“How has your day been? Did you manage to go back to sleep?”

“No, I went for a run and did about six circuits in the park. Then I came home, had a snack, and started in on the laundry. I’m probably going to make a casserole for dinner and just eat off that for the next couple of days.”

“You made sure to stretch properly after your run, correct?” he asked.

“Yes, Stephen, I did.” Stephen just knew Peter had rolled his eyes as he’d spoke. “And I’ve been drinking plenty of water.”

“Good,” he said. “I’ll try to call later in the evening if I can get away for a few minutes. We’re due to start everything tomorrow at noon, so we won’t have too late of a night. Take care of yourself, Peter.”

“I will,” Peter promised. “If you can’t call tonight, maybe call me first thing in the morning? Just so I know you’re still okay?”

“Of course,” Stephen said.

They said their goodbyes and hung up.

“Just so I know you’re still okay?”

Did Peter really worry about him? He supposed the young man might. If something were to happen to Stephen, the year’s “clock” would stop and Peter would be remanded back to a BCSS center until Stephen was deemed medically fit. Then he’d be required to collect Peter and the clock would restart. Or, if the worst happened and Stephen died, Peter would be back in BCSS custody and subject to another selection.

Of course, Peter would worry, he decided. Making it through a year with Stephen was his key to a future where he was free to do as he wanted.

He collected his luggage from the baggage terminal and went outside to hail a taxi to the hospital. Outside he was immediately blasted with the wind that made the city so famous. He didn’t mind though; it only served to keep him awake and his mind sharp for the coming days ahead.

Chicago Heights Memorial’s Chief of Surgery, Dr. Shawna Lynde waited for him in the lobby of the hospital.

They exchanged the standard pleasantries and Stephen asked who else had already arrived.

“Dr. Blake is here already, of course, since this is where he works. Dr. Reyes is scheduled to arrive in an hour. Dr. Cho should be here this evening, along with Dr. Montesi. Doctors Fitz and Simmons arrived last night and are already deep into their world of anesthesia. The nursing staff is mostly complete, save for Nurse Morales, who as you know, is heading up their part of this endeavor. She’s arriving with Dr. Reyes.”

He nodded. “I’d like to put my things away and then get started wherever you need me first,” he said.

Dr. Lynde escorted him to his apartment in the residential wing of the hospital and then escorted him to the surgical wing. She left him there so she could continue coordinating the arrivals of both their team and the last few deliveries of their needed supplies.

Dr. Blake greeted him with a hearty handshake and slap on the back that almost had his teeth rattling. “It’s good to see you in the flesh, Strange! When Shawna told me just who she’d tapped to be our neurosurgeon I was thrilled. Your work on reattaching nerves and neural grafting is incredible!”

A more modest man would have blushed at the praise, but Stephen simply accepted it with grace. He was a skilled surgeon and the work he did would not only save lives but actually improve quality of life for generations to come. He took his work seriously; he knew he couldn’t save everyone, but he would save as many as he could. It was the least he could do after the worst failure of his life. He’d never make up for it, but he could damned well try.

He and Dr. Blake were halfway through their second simulation when Dr. Reyes and Nurse Morales joined them. Trailing in after them were Dr. Fitz and Dr. Simmons. They stepped in where needed and the simulation continued, pinging to let them know whenever a more feasible cut could be made, or a step removed. The pings would tally at the end, and they would review, as they’d been doing for nearly two weeks.

Once the simulation was over and the suggestions reviewed, the predicted success rate was at sixty-three percent.

The team continued, pausing only when Dr. Cho, Dr. Montesi, and Dr. Lynde joined them. They ran another simulation after catching the three up on the feedback that had pinged, and the predicted rate was up to sixty-four point four two percent.

Stephen was glad when they broke for dinner and knowing he wouldn’t have time to make a proper call before he was pulled back into the case, let himself relax as much as he could with his colleagues. They would run one final simulation, review pinged feedback, and then have an early night. By the time his head hit the pillow, he felt confident about the patient’s chances, and it was that confidence that allowed him to sleep.

Peter sat in the kitchen eating a bagel with cream cheese and lox. A bowl of apple slices was also on the table to be munched on along with a cup of hot tea for the cool start to the day. It was seven in the morning which meant it was only six in the morning in Chicago. He was sure he’d hear from Stephen soon.

Peter didn’t want to be a bother to Stephen on such an important day, but he did want to know that Stephen was okay.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when his mobile rang. Then he chided himself for being such a nervous wreck and answered. “Good morning,” he said softly.

“Good morning,” Stephen said. “How are you doing?”

Peter smiled. Stephen sounded okay. “Better now that I’ve heard from you,” he said honestly. “Did everything go okay yesterday?”

“It did,” Stephen confirmed. “We ran some simulations, finalized our plans, had dinner, ran one last simulation and then turned in for the night. We’re meeting for breakfast in a few minutes, and then we’ll all have our own little routines for getting ready.”

“Rubbing a rabbit’s foot?” Peter asked.

It got the desired laugh out of Stephen. “Yeah, something like that. We’ll never admit it publically but surgeons are a superstitious bunch.”

“I’ll let you go,” Peter said. “I know you have a busy day. I really hope it goes well.”

There was a pause. “Thank you, Peter. I appreciate it. Have a good day and stay out of trouble, alright?”

“I will,” Peter promised.

They hung up and as Peter finished his breakfast, he decided on his plan for the day. He did his dishes and then went upstairs to shower.

Dressed and ready for the day, he called for the car service. He would make a stop at the bookstore and buy some books to read now that he’d made it through what had interested him from Stephen’s bookshelves. He also buy a copy of the Torah to replace the one he’d been unable to keep when the bank had seized the house.

Then he’d go to the local nursery and see about getting what he’d need to prepare the flower beds for the upcoming winter. If he recalled correctly, he’d have to take the opportunity to plant some of what he wanted to bloom in spring so it could sit during the cold months. It would mean “putting on another show” while he did yard work, but at least so far none of the women had dared approach him.

Mr. Hogan was once again the driver sent (“Please, call me Happy.”) and they made genial small talk during the drive into town. Peter assured him he wouldn’t take the full thirty minutes he’d scheduled for the bookstore visit and went in. He ended up with seven books in addition to his new Torah by the time he went to checkout. As usual everything was charged to a Stephen’s account and when he found Happy parked in the public lot behind the town square, he gave the next destination.

“As you wish, Mr. Strange.”

<<<>>>

Fun little fact: all the doctors mentioned in this chapter are doctors in the Marvel Universe. Nurse Morales is in the Marvel Universe as well - she's Miles Morales' mother!

[mariacallous]

An existential fight over the US government’s ability to spy on its own citizens is brewing in Congress. And as this fight unfolds, the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s biggest foes on Capitol Hill are no longer reformers merely interested in reining in its authority. Many lawmakers, elevated to new heights of power by the recent election, are working to dramatically curtail the methods by which the FBI investigates crime.

New details about the FBI’s failures to comply with restrictions on the use of foreign intelligence for domestic crimes have emerged at a perilous time for the US intelligence community. Section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA), the so-called crown jewel of US intelligence, grants the government the ability to intercept the electronic communications of overseas targets who are unprotected by the Fourth Amendment.

That authority is set to expire at the end of the year. But errors in the FBI’s secondary use of the data—the investigation of crimes on US soil—are likely to inflame an already fierce debate over whether law enforcement agents can be trusted with such an invasive tool. 

Central to this tension has been a routine audit by the Department of Justice’s (DOJ) national security division and the office of the director of national intelligence (ODNI)—America’s “top spy”—which unearthed new examples of the FBI failing to comply with rules limiting access to intelligence ostensibly gathered to protect US national security. Such “errors,” they said, have occurred on a “large number” of occasions.

A report on the audit, only recently declassified, found that in the first half of 2020, FBI personnel unlawfully searched raw FISA data on numerous occasions. In one incident, agents reportedly sought evidence of foreign influence linked to a US lawmaker. In another, an inappropriate search pertained to a local political party. In both cases, these “errors” attributed to a “misunderstanding” of the law, the report says.

At some point between December 2019 and May 2020, FBI personnel conducted searches of FISA data using “only the name of a US congressman,” the report says, a query that investigators later found was “noncompliant” with legal procedures. While some searches were “reasonably likely to return foreign intelligence information,” investigators said, they were also “overly broad as constructed.”

In another incident, the FBI ran searches using the “names of a local political party,” even though a connection to foreign intelligence was “not reasonably likely.” The DOJ explained the errors away by saying FBI personnel “misunderstood” the search procedures, adding they were “subsequently reminded of how to correctly apply the query rules.” These are the mistakes that will ultimately serve as ammunition in the coming fight to diminish the FBI’s power.

Elizabeth Goitein, senior director of the Brennan Center for Justice’s national security program at New York University School of Law, says that while troubling, the misuse was entirely predictable. “When the government is allowed to access Americans’ private communications without a warrant, that opens the door to surveillance based on race, religion, politics, or other impermissible factors,” she says. 

Raw Section 702 data, much of which is derived “downstream” from internet companies like Google, is regarded as “unminimized” when it contains unredacted information about Americans. Spy agencies such as the CIA and NSA require high-level permission to “unmask” it. But in what privacy and civil liberties lawyers have termed a “backdoor search,” the FBI regularly searches through unminimized data during investigations, and routinely prior to launching them. To address concerns, the US Congress amended FISA to require a court order in matters that are purely criminal. Years later, however, it was reported that the FBI had never sought the court’s permission.

FISA surveillance came under heightened Republican criticism following revelations that, in October 2016, a secret court had authorized a wiretap on a former campaign aide of then-presidential nominee Donald Trump during the FBI’s investigation into election meddling by Russia. While an inspector general’s report later found sufficient cause for the investigation, the wiretap application was haphazardly approved in the face of numerous FBI errors. 

Section 702—notably, not used to authorize the wiretap itself—was first enacted as part of the FISA Amendments Act in 2008, and was more recently reauthorized until December 31, 2023. Congress must vote by year’s end to extend the authority any further. This deadline will provoke a debate around government surveillance likely to continue throughout the year, with the Biden administration pushing for a swift reauthorization and Republicans such as Jim Jordan, a top FBI critic, standing in its way.

Jordan, who wields significant power now as chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, signaled on Fox News before the start of the new Congress that a reauthorization bill before his committee might be dead on arrival.

DOJ investigators unearthed another incident, which in the report they say violated US attorney general guidelines: an FBI analyst using Section 702 intelligence in a way that “lacked a proper authorized purpose.” The investigators said “improper queries” were prompted by a report about an “individual of Middle Eastern descent,” whom a witness claimed “sped” into a parking lot before honking his horn. “A second individual of Middle Eastern descent” then began loading boxes into a second vehicle, said the witness, who noted some of the boxes were labeled Drano, the brand name of a drain-cleaning product.

The report does not opine on whether the tip was the result of racial profiling, and it is widely known that chemicals commonly found in drain cleaners, among other household products, can be used in the creation of homemade bombs. The report only states that the matter was closed prior to the audit, and that it is the FBI’s prerogative to destroy any unminimized data it unlawfully obtained.

The errors at the FBI aren’t likely to bolster the US intelligence community’s case that the benefits of Section 702 outweigh any risks to Americans’ civil liberties by a mile, and that allowing it to sunset would widely compromise investigations into terrorists, foreign spies, and cyberattacks on American infrastructure. “Nothing is untouched, essentially, by this authority; it is fundamental to our work,” Avril Haines, the US’s director of national security, said earlier this year.

Prominent political figures, including US Senators Ron Wyden and Rand Paul, have put forward bills in the past seeking to limit the FBI’s access to unminimized Section 702 data. A bill initially put forward by the lawmakers in 2017, known as the USA RIGHTS Act, sought to rein in the FBI’s “sweeping authority,” which they described as being “clouded in secrecy.” Hakeem Jeffries, the current House Democratic Leader, was a cosponsor of the bill.

“The intelligence community, and the FBI in particular, has unnecessarily plundered the most private, sensitive information of American citizens, treating the Fourth Amendment with contempt,” says former Republican House Judiciary chair Bob Goodlatte, now senior adviser to the Project for Privacy and Surveillance Accountability. “Congress must add impenetrable guardrails to Section 702, requiring probable cause warrants to obtain Americans’ private information.”

Other troubling incidents, previously disclosed by a redacted court ruling, are also mentioned, including FBI searches of Section 702 data during “background investigations” into repairmen who’d been given access to an FBI field office; individuals who’d requested to join the bureau’s “Citizens Academy”—a program for “business, religious, civic, and community leaders”—and “individuals who entered the field office seeking to provide a tip or to report that they were the victim of a crime.”

The FBI did not respond to a request for comment. Inquiries at the offices of the House and Senate Judiciary Committees also went unanswered.

Sean Vitka, senior policy counsel for Demand Progress, a nonprofit focused on national security reform, says it is difficult to exaggerate the danger posed by federal agents rummaging through “untold millions of emails and other communications” without a warrant, while ignoring basic safeguards. “There is something deeply wrong with FISA and the government’s out-of-control surveillance state, and it is absolutely imperative that Congress face it head-on this year, before it’s too late,” he says.

The recently disclosed errors are not the first in FBI’s history, according to research by Demand Progress. Starting in 2017 and continuing until at least 2019, the bureau is known to have conducted thousands of legally impermissible searches, according to declassified court records. The Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court noted in a 2018 memorandum, for instance, that the FBI’s minimization procedures, “as they have been implemented,” were consistent with neither the FISA requirements nor the Fourth Amendment itself.

It has also not complied with regulations, passed in 2018, that required a court order before using Section 702 data to further domestic criminal investigations. An oversight review conducted prior to November 2020 found, for instance, that the FBI had conducted 40 queries without proper authorization related to a range of activities, from organized crime and health care fraud to public corruption and bribery.

A previous DOJ audit—declassified in August 2021—disclosed that, in one instance, an intelligence analyst had conducted “batch queries” of FISA-acquired information at the FBI’s request, using the personal information of “multiple current and former United States government officials, journalists, and political commentators.” While the analyst attempted to remove the US information, in some cases, it said, they “inadvertently failed” to do so. 

[ruscha]

i've yapped about this too much but another thing abt the way much of the fandom mischaracterizes scully as cold & uninterested esp where depictions of msr are concerned (mulder as a smitten puppy, scully as a stern mother) is a blatant denial of her social role within the show + within the culture of 90's film and television:

scully works in 2 male-dominated fields (doctoral medicine & law enforcement) and is forced to over-excel in every case to be considered equal to her male colleagues & be doubly impartial to avoid any accusations of over-emotionality. she is overworked and constantly under scrutiny, always playing defense & trying to prove herself. then she gets the x-files assignment, which to her is a clear signal from the bureau that she is still not seen as a "real" agent, so she works even harder than before to prove her competence and excel in her assigned role as skeptic. this frames her and mulder's dynamic throughout the show: first as professional antagonists, each fearing that the other is an omen of their eventual failure in the field, & pitted against each other by bureau leadership. when platonic/romantic personal feelings arise from this conflict, scully is forced to deny them more vehemently than mulder due to her precarious position as a female agent and the person sent to debunk him.

within the cultural context: the 90s and early 00s saw a shift in the tropes commonly used for female protagonists, with popular feminist movements barely succeeding in pointing out how tired and distasteful the damsel in distress / useless love interest tropes were becoming. this caused tropes to pinball in the opposite direction, with fem leads that possessed intelligence & ruthless self-sufficiency, working in traditionally male-dominated professions or prejudiced environments, & often having skills equal to or exceeding their male co-leads. as a consequence, the writing of these characters often had the same defensive edge against a tide of potential misogynist criticism that we see in scully: the strong woman lead can't show emotion, she can't accept help from another person, she can't be vulnerable or flawed, she can't joke around or ever be seen as unserious, because those are signs of femininity weakness. she has to be twice as shut away from her own humanity as her male counterpart in order to be seen as a "proper" lead.

mulder is allowed a visible emotional core that scully must suppress. he is allowed to look at her lovingly in the office, to joke about marrying her. scully's mannerisms are calculated and clinical for self-preservation reasons— her feelings for mulder are trapped behind layers and meta-layers, which the show's best writers worked to peel off in little ways as the series went on (despite some of the show's worst writers and their attempts to revert her back into a variety of older sexist tropes)

[darkmaga-returns]

By Matthew Guariglia

EFF has joined with 23 other organizations including the ACLU, Restore the Fourth, the Brennan Center for Justice, Access Now, and the Freedom of the Press Foundation to demand that the Office of the Director of National Intelligence (ODNI) furnish the public with an estimate of exactly how many U.S. persons’ communications have been hoovered up, and are now sitting on a government server for law enforcement to unconstitutionally sift through at their leisure.

This letter was motivated by the fact that representatives of the National Security Agency (NSA) have promised in the past to provide the public with an estimate of how many U.S. persons—that is, people on U.S. soil—have had their communications “incidentally” collected through the surveillance authority Section 702 of the FISA Amendments Act. 

As the letter states, “ODNI and NSA cannot expect public trust to be unconditional. If ODNI and NSA continue to renege on pledges to members of Congress, and to withhold information that lawmakers, civil society, academia, and the press have persistently sought over the course of thirteen years, that public trust will be fatally undermined.”

Section 702 allows the government to conduct surveillance of foreigners abroad from inside the United States. It operates, in part, through the cooperation of large and small telecommunications service providers which hand over the digital data and communications they oversee. While Section 702 prohibits the NSA from intentionally targeting Americans with this mass surveillance, these agencies routinely acquire a huge amount of innocent Americans' communications “incidentally” because, as it turns out, people in the United States communicate with people overseas all the time. This means that the U.S. government ends up with a massive pool consisting of the U.S.-side of conversations as well as communications from all over the globe. Domestic law enforcement agencies, including the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), can then conduct backdoor warrantless searches of these “incidentally collected”

[news365timesindia]

[ad_1] GG News Bureau New Delhi, 20th Oct. Chief Information Commissioner (CIC) Heeralal Samariya met with Dr. Jitendra Singh, Minister of State for Personnel, Public Grievances & Pensions, highlighting the Central Information Commission’s (CIC) achievement of a 100% disposal rate of RTI applications during the first six months of the current financial year. Dr. Singh praised the CIC’s efforts and its consistent use of technology. Dr. Jitendra Singh commended the CIC’s innovative approach, noting its use of Artificial Intelligence for studying RTI patterns and verifying applicants’ credentials. Additionally, the CIC’s hybrid model—integrating physical hearings with video conferencing—has enabled efficient processing of appeals. Samariya emphasized that the CIC’s use of online methods during the COVID-19 pandemic boosted RTI disposal rates. He also mentioned that RTI applications can now be filed through a mobile app, further easing access for citizens. Awareness programs are being organized to educate the public about the RTI Act. The Union Minister highlighted that the Modi government introduced a 24-hour portal service, allowing citizens to e-file RTI applications at any time, from anywhere in India or abroad. He added that during Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s tenure, the CIC office moved to its own dedicated complex, reinforcing its commitment to transparency. Dr. Singh reiterated the CIC’s pivotal role in achieving Prime Minister Modi’s vision of transparent governance and increased public participation in governmental processes. The post CIC Achieves 100% RTI Disposal in First Half of FY 2024-25 appeared first on Global Governance News- Asia's First Bilingual News portal for Global News and Updates. [ad_2] Source link

[news365times]

[ad_1] GG News Bureau New Delhi, 20th Oct. Chief Information Commissioner (CIC) Heeralal Samariya met with Dr. Jitendra Singh, Minister of State for Personnel, Public Grievances & Pensions, highlighting the Central Information Commission’s (CIC) achievement of a 100% disposal rate of RTI applications during the first six months of the current financial year. Dr. Singh praised the CIC’s efforts and its consistent use of technology. Dr. Jitendra Singh commended the CIC’s innovative approach, noting its use of Artificial Intelligence for studying RTI patterns and verifying applicants’ credentials. Additionally, the CIC’s hybrid model—integrating physical hearings with video conferencing—has enabled efficient processing of appeals. Samariya emphasized that the CIC’s use of online methods during the COVID-19 pandemic boosted RTI disposal rates. He also mentioned that RTI applications can now be filed through a mobile app, further easing access for citizens. Awareness programs are being organized to educate the public about the RTI Act. The Union Minister highlighted that the Modi government introduced a 24-hour portal service, allowing citizens to e-file RTI applications at any time, from anywhere in India or abroad. He added that during Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s tenure, the CIC office moved to its own dedicated complex, reinforcing its commitment to transparency. Dr. Singh reiterated the CIC’s pivotal role in achieving Prime Minister Modi’s vision of transparent governance and increased public participation in governmental processes. The post CIC Achieves 100% RTI Disposal in First Half of FY 2024-25 appeared first on Global Governance News- Asia's First Bilingual News portal for Global News and Updates. [ad_2] Source link

[newsource21]

Scale of Chinese Spying Overwhelms Western Governments

LONDON—Beijing is conducting espionage activities on what Western governments say is an unprecedented scale, mobilizing security agencies, private companies and Chinese civilians in its quest to undermine rival states and bolster the country’s economy.

Rarely does a week go by without a warning from a Western intelligence agency about the threat that China presents.

Last month alone, the Federal Bureau of Investigation said a Chinese state-linked firm hacked 260,000 internet-connected devices, including cameras and routers, in the U.S., Britain, France, Romania and elsewhere. A Congressional probe said Chinese cargo cranes used at U.S. seaports had embedded technology that could allow Beijing to secretly control them. The U.S. government alleged that a former top aide to New York Gov. Kathy Hochul was a Chinese agent.

U.S. officials last week launched an effort to understand the consequences of the latest Chinese hack, which compromised systems the federal government uses for court-authorized network wiretapping requests.

Western spy agencies, unable to contain Beijing’s activity, are raising the alarm publicly, urging businesses and individuals to be on alert in their interactions with China. But given the country is deeply entwined in the global economy, it is proving a Sisyphean task, said Calder Walton, a national-security expert at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government. Western governments “are coming to terms with events, in many ways, after the events,” he said.

The Chinese government’s press office, as well as the ministries of state security, public security and defense, didn’t respond to requests for comment. Beijing has previously denied allegations of espionage targeting Western countries while portraying China as a frequent target of foreign hacking and intelligence-gathering operations.

Chinese leader Xi Jinping since taking power in 2012 has increasingly emphasized the importance of national security, calling on officials and ordinary citizens alike to ward off threats to Chin a’s interests. The result is a sweeping information-gathering effort whose scale and perseverance dwarfs that of Kremlin espionage during the Cold War and has jolted Western spy agencies.

China-backed hackers outnumber all of the FBI’s cyber personnel at least 50 to 1, according to the U.S. agency. One European agency estimates China’s intelligence-gathering and security operations might comprise up to 600,000 people. “China’s hacking program is larger than that of every other major nation, combined,” FBI Director Christopher Wray said earlier this year. Complicating the West’s response: Unlike with autocracies such as Iran or Russia, trade with China has for decades supported Western economic growth, which in turn underpins the West’s long-term security. Most countries simply can’t afford to slap China with sanctions and throw out its diplomats. “China is different,” said Ken McCallum, the head of the U.K.’s domestic-intelligence agency, MI5.

The malign-activity risks intensifying as China’s economic growth slows under Xi’s increasingly authoritarian leadership. Beijing’s intelligence apparatus will come under pressure to pilfer the innovation needed to bolster the economy and silence critics at home and abroad, officials said. “It all boils down to the security of the regime,” said Nigel Inkster, a former director of operations at the British foreign-intelligence agency MI6.

Chinese activity ranges from the absurd to the hair-raising. In September, U.S. prosecutors alleged that five Chinese University of Michigan graduates were found in the middle of the night taking photos just feet away from military vehicles in a U.S. National Guard training exercise that included Taiwan military personnel. The men claimed to be stargazing. 

Earlier this year, the U.K. government said Chinese-linked hackers had accessed the nation’s voter-registration records, which include around 40 million people’s home addresses. The U.S. government is currently probing whether a Chinese state-linked hacking group burrowed into major U.S. broadband providers, potentially accessing U.S. law-enforcement wiretaps. Intelligence officials fret China is stealing swaths of private data to train advanced artificial-intelligence models.

As China becomes more assertive militarily, including increasing support for Russia in its war in Ukraine, its covert action also poses greater threats. Xi has ordered his military to be ready to invade Taiwan by 2027, the centenary of the founding of the People’s Liberation Army, according to Western officials. A war over Taiwan could draw China into conflict with the U.S., which is committed to ensuring the democratically self-ruled island can defend itself.

The FBI earlier this year said China had hijacked hundreds of routers and used them to infiltrate American water and energy networks, raising concern of a pre-emptive attack on U.S. infrastructure if Washington were to intervene in a Chinese attempt to claim Taiwan. Congress in December banned the Pentagon from using any seaport worldwide that deploys the Chinese cargo-data platform Logink, out of fear classified information could be disclosed.

China also prepositioned malware on Indian power grids amid a border dispute in 2021 and on telecommunication networks in Guam, home to a large U.S. air base, according to analysts and officials.

Central Intelligence Agency Director William Burns recently said he had visited China twice in the past year “to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings and inadvertent collisions.”

There is worry of a dangerous mishap. Spy agencies in authoritarian states often tailor information to meet their bosses’ world views. For instance, Russia’s intelligence services told Russian President Vladimir Putin that Ukraine would fold quickly after he invaded. If Xi similarly received faulty information, or didn’t believe the information he was given, China could pre-emptively strike at vital foreign infrastructure. 

China doesn’t play by the old-school spy rulebooks, intelligence officials say. It doesn’t seem to care if it is caught red-handed and, unlike Russia, it rarely makes efforts to swap its spies when they are arrested.

Another factor hampers a Western intelligence response: It is hard to spy on China. Beijing’s intelligence operations are decentralized, stretching across myriad agencies and private-sector companies. They operate largely autonomously, making the system difficult to penetrate, and their methods appear haphazard, with a mix of private and state actors seemingly loosely guided by overarching aims laid out by senior officials. China also purged a whole cadre of officials working as U.S. spies a decade ago.

Underpinning China’s activity is Xi’s desire to consolidate his grip on power. He has cited the Soviet Union’s sudden collapse in 1991 as a warning of what could befall communist rule in China if ideological controls are loosened. He created a national-security commission, which first convened in 2014, to centralize control over security work, and set an expansive definition of national security that spans the party’s political dominance as well as China’s economic strength and food sufficiency.

This emphasis morphed into a fixation in recent years as Beijing clashed with Washington over territorial disputes, technological dominance and the causes of Covid-19. Further fueling paranoia were allegations by former U.S. intelligence contractor Edward Snowden that the U.S. had extensively hacked Chinese infrastructure including mobile phone networks.

“Security is the prerequisite for development, and development is the guarantee of security,” Xi told officials. “Security and development must be promoted simultaneously.”

The U.S. in 2014 accused Chinese military officers of plundering American corporate secrets through hacking—and said it was outside the bounds of traditional espionage.

The U.S. responded with tariffs and a campaign to stop its European allies from using China’s Huawei to build its next generation of telecom infrastructure.

Western democracies are trying to strike a balance now by continuing to do business with China while calling out Beijing’s spying. In May, Canadian intelligence officials said China likely tried to interfere in two past federal elections, including by busing in Chinese students to vote to secure the nomination of a preferred candidate.

Around the same time, Australian authorities sentenced a businessman with links to the Chinese Communist Party for trying to curry favor with a government minister by donating $25,000 to a local hospital. This spring, seven alleged Chinese spies were arrested during separate operations in Germany and Britain for acquiring a special laser and shipping it to China without authorization, spying on the European Parliament and targeting dissidents, respectively.

Much of China’s information-gathering activity isn’t illegal. Most of China’s researchers and businesses aren’t involved in espionage, and many are credited with contributing to important advances in innovation that benefit Western economies.  

But European security officials say Chinese students and guest scientists also have become a prime conduit for Chinese espionage in the West. In the past, security officials kept a close eye on Chinese researchers who had studied at one of the “Seven Sons of National Defense,” a nickname for top Chinese universities with strong links to the military. Recently, the officials say, spies masquerading as researchers have grown better at hiding their tracks. One example is students who initially enroll in language or literature courses and then switch to quantum computing or other sensitive areas.

More than 20,000 people in the U.K. alone have been approached by Chinese agents on LinkedIn since 2022 in attempts to get them to hand over sensitive information, according to MI5, the U.K.’s domestic spy agency.

MI5 has been touring universities warning them about collaborations with Chinese-backed consultancies or universities, which could inadvertently hand over valuable intellectual property. Spy agencies can’t “disrupt our way out of that challenge,” McCallum, the head of MI5, said recently.

Chun Han Wong and Bertrand Benoit contributed to this article.

Write to Max Colchester at Max.Colchester@wsj.com and Daniel Michaels at Dan.Michaels@wsj.com

https://www.wsj.com/politics/national-security/scale-of-chinese-spying-overwhelms-western-governments-6ae644d2?st=ukRexA

[sa7abnews]

DHS, FBI probed for info on alleged Iranian agent's assassination plot possibly targeting Trump

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/16/dhs-fbi-probed-for-info-on-alleged-iranian-agents-assassination-plot-possibly-targeting-trump/

DHS, FBI probed for info on alleged Iranian agent's assassination plot possibly targeting Trump

FIRST ON FOX: A group of leading bipartisan senators conducting oversight of homeland security and governmental matters are demanding answers from FBI Director Christopher Wray and Department of Homeland Security (DHS) Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas after an alleged Iranian agent was charged by the Department of Justice (DOJ) for orchestrating a scheme to assassinate a politician or U.S. official — potentially former President Trump. Pakistani national Asif Merchant was charged with seeking to carry out a murder-for-hire, the office of the U.S. Attorney for the Eastern District of New York said earlier this month. “This dangerous murder-for-hire plot exposed in today’s charges allegedly was orchestrated by a Pakistani national with close ties to Iran and is straight out of the Iranian playbook,” Wray said in the press release. “A foreign-directed plot to kill a public official, or any U.S. citizen, is a threat to our national security and will be met with the full might and resources of the FBI.”   ‘PREGNANT PERSONS’: OHIO SEN SHERROD BROWN SCRUBBED ‘WOMEN’ FROM BILL ON PREGNANCYIn a joint letter to Wray and Mayorkas on Wednesday, Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee (HSGAC) Chairman Gary Peters, D-Mich., Ranking Member Rand Paul, R-Ky., Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations Chairman Richard Blumenthal, D-Conn., and Ranking Member Ron Johnson, R-Wis., noted that the court documents detailed that Merchant had been “orchestrating his assassination plot since at least April 2024 when he ‘flew from Pakistan to Istanbul and then on to Houston, Texas on or about April 13, 2024, to recruit individuals to carry out his plot to assassinate U.S. government officials.” The senators pointed to a Fox News Digital report citing multiple federal law enforcement sources briefed on the investigation, who claimed that the FBI had been watching Merchant before he entered the U.S. According to those sources, the bureau needed him to enter the country in order to cement its case and arrest him. ‘PATH TO JUSTICE’: DURBIN URGES AUSTIN TO RETHINK REVOKING 9/11 MASTERMINDS’ PLEA DEALSArresting Merchant at Customs would not have allowed agents to get the necessary evidence regarding the plot, per the sources. “In light of this new information and to understand the extent of FBI’s and DHS’s awareness of Merchant and his plot, including the justification to allow him to enter the U.S.,” Peters, Paul, Blumenthal, and Johnson asked that the FBI and DHS leaders provide answers on when and how the Pakistani national became known to the FBI, what the bureau knew at that time and whether it had shared the information with the Secret Service. The lawmakers further asked the entities for information on whether the FBI had sponsored Significant Public Benefit Parole (SPBP) for Merchant for “security interests.” The suspect was allegedly allowed entry through SPBP, which grants non-citizens entry to the U.S. on a temporary basis. KAMALA HARRIS LED DEMS IN 2018 CALL TO REJECT MORE FUNDING FOR BORDER PATROL, ICEThey additionally questioned Mayorkas and Wray on the information provided to DHS by the FBI prior to the decision to allow Merchant into the country. “Did FBI inform DHS about Merchant’s assassination plot? When and how did DHS officials become aware of Merchant?” the senators questioned. In their correspondence, the senators noted that a request made last month is still outstanding for “documents and information from the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) and the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), including any intelligence regarding a series of enumerated threats known or being investigated in advance of the July 13, 2024 rally,” where Trump survived an assassination attempt.The initial request on July 24 came in response to an attempted assassination against Trump at an outdoor rally in Butler, Pennsylvania. The shooting wounded the former president’s ear, leaving him bloodied, and killed one spectator as well as critically injuring two others.GOOGLE EXECS PRESSED TO TESTIFY AFTER ADMITTING TRUMP ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT SEARCH OMISSIONS WERE BY DESIGN”Please explain what, if any, steps federal law enforcement has taken to investigate any connection between Merchant’s assassination plot and the July 13, 2024, assassination attempt of former President Donald Trump,” the lawmakers requested in the latest letter. The FBI confirmed receipt of the letter to Fox News Digital but declined to comment. DHS did not provide comment to Fox News Digital in time for publication. Fox News’ Louis Casiano, Bill Melugin, David Spunt and Michael Ruiz contributed to this report. 

[mr-camhed]

Name: Whitenoise

Age: 3.95 million years

Gender: Female

Faction: Autobots

Assigned Forces: Autobot Aerial Command(during The war), Iacon Security Bureau(post war)

Role: Search and surveying, Attack coordination.

Motto: "if you stand tall enough, evil will have nowhere to hide. "

Personality: Whitenoise is a bot filled to The brim with The sense of justice. If she caught wind of any plot of evil, no matter the conspirators' species or allegiance, Whitenoise will dig to The heart of it and report The evidence to the ones that can act against it, such as the Autobot command. As someone that never pamper on herself or others, she would constantly search for mistakes to correct, but she seems to often overlook her singlemindedness and sometimes being overconfident.

Alternate mode: Whitnoise transforms into a white Antonov An-71 AWACS Aircraft with a Blue stripe down The middle of The fuselage, engine and front edge of The wing and vertical stablizer, and an Autobot insignia where The normal An-71/72's national flag would be.

Appearance: Whitenoise is around 12.4m tall, with a transformation scheme similar to a combination between G1 Jetfire and WFC Air raid and her head sculpt was similar to G1 Rust Dust with retractable battle mask and protective visor, and her main color scheme is white with Blue deco, visor and photoreceptors.

Weaponry: Whitnoise has an average strength but rather high intelligence. In jet form, she can fly at mach4 on 350km altitude while simultaneous tracking up to 15 objects that are as small as 3cm across with a relative speed within mach5 and within 1200km distance; while simultaneously guiding The allies' attack on ground targets. She is also equipped with IFF Systems That can automatically recognize if the being is hostile or not, and an implanted Signal jammer which can disrupt enemy Signal transmitter and even stun enemies in both modes. She is also equipped with a silenced pistol and a electro pulse carbine for self defenses.

Character Biography: Whitenoise of Kaon was a forged point one percenter. Before war, she was an supervision assistance of The Telecommunications Center of Iacon where she would often notice data leaks and security breaches that seems to be under surveillance by outside source, with some clients whose data was leaked disappearing shortly afterwards, she decided to conduct an investigation, which she quickly established a connection towards her coworker Algorithmaster who seems to be living more than his salary should allow.

Unfortunately, her snooping was noticed by Algorithmaster, who naturally panicked, and almost immediately decided to try and deal with The problem by directly disposing of the one who is about to discover it. So he hired several of his connections, including Lockdown(who at The time was just a gang Hitman and kidnapper-for-hire and not the famous bounty hunter he would become), spark brothers Secondcount and timereckon(hired thug for Senate, transforms into pickup trucks, timereckon was later killed by Orion pax when the brothers tried to assassinate him, while Secondcount became a Decepticon genericon who was killed by a vengeful bot post war whose partner was kidnapped by him), and Staxx(Velocitron exile who acts as getaway driver here) and bulletbike(who was an enforcer for one of the crime family's loan sharks), who jumped Whitenoise when she went off work and assisted Alogrithmaster in paralyzing her with his junk data before bringing her to The apartment of another bot named Motormount(a Neutral who transforms into a station wagon, and owed money to bulletbike's boss and was forced to do favors for them) where several other thugs were several other thugs were guarding her until Algorithmaster can break through her mental defenses and wipe her mind with the assistance of The Institute.

However, the ruckus(not that one) had attracted unwanted attention which led a group of police and security officers including Orion pax, Strongarm, wheelarch, Bumper and stungun to raid the apartment. During The subsequent firefight, Algorithmaster used his power to scramble the officers' brainwave in orders to impede their advancement, although it didn't succeed in doing so and the law enforcement officers neutralized and incarcerated most of The hired goons(save for bulletbike who fled or Lockdown and Staxx who was only hired for The kidnapping and wasn't present at the apartment).

However, when they moved in in an attempt to capture Algorithmaster and Secondcount and timereckon, Algorithmaster would use his power to fully incapacitate The officers and orders The two bodyguards to kill them, while Orion pax and Strongarm, who resisted the attack and attempted to keep fighting were stabbed by his arm blades and injected with paralyzing toxin.

However, Whitenoise, who was restrained to a chair and kept in a trance like state by Algorithmaster with his junk data, which was mostly redirected towards The officers, managed to muster up enough strength to activate her jet engine and wings, and used them to propel both herself and her wing forward, and slammed the combined weight of herself and The metal chair into Algorithmaster's back, which not only snapped both of his Antennas, but also knocked him out cold and The wings swept the two accomplices over, although The impact also caused massive damage to herself.

And after she was rescued but disappointed by The coverup on The matter, Whitnoise joined Orion Pax's group of renegade in overthrowing the Senate in less violent means and later joined the Autobots after the Kaon Riots and downfall of the Senate and after the end of the great war and Megatron's surrendering and incarceration, she became a member of The Iacon security Bureau, although she would soon learn that Algorithmaster, the one who had The attempt on her life all those years ago, is still alive and now at large commiting crimes, she embarked on a crusade to bring him to justice.

Weakness: Whitenoise's overconfidence and impulsiveness makes her more likely to be at a disadvantage against more astute enemies, while her constant singlemindedness would sometimes lead her straight towards a trap.

Commentary: some of my friends who were also Transformers fans commented that she seems like the kind to "glimmer and sparkle with justice" and "would strike a JoJo like pose" when i first wrote this Character and i feel like It's very fitting.

[grapefruitspit]

Columbia crackdown led by university prof doubling as NYPD Intelligence & Counter-terrorism Bureau leader

May 2, 2024

2011 AP Report on Co-ordinated NYPD and CIA Domestic Spying, targeting Muslim communities

Aug. 24, 2011

Dartmouth Student Protest from May 1st

May 1st 2024

Statement from UCLA English Department opposing the university's response to violence

May 2nd 2024

[Text ID: Screenshot of text titled Statement of undersigned members of the UCLA Department of English Faculty in response to the forcible removal of the Student Encampment.

"As members of the Department of English, we write to condemn the response of UCLA to the student encampment in support of Palestine. The encampment on Royce Quad is right outside our faculty offices in Kaplan Hall and many of us witnessed the peaceful, disciplined, and morally courageous protests of the students since April 25, 2024.

On April 30, Chancellor Gene D. Block misrepresented the protests, calling their tactics "shocking and shameful," alluding to unspecified "instances of violence," and labeling the encampment "unauthorized." He called on law enforcement to secure the area, removed barriers, and threatened suspension and expulsion. At the same time, UCLA did nothing to address the violence the students were subjected to every night, even granting a permit right next to their encampment for a rally on April 28, with a jumbotron transmitting images of rape, children crying, and loud music every night and day to terrorize the students.

On the evening of April 30, a violent mob attacked UCLA students for several hours, while university leadership was nowhere to be found. Several of our faculty were present to witness the abandonment of the basic responsibility of the University to protect students from a raging mob. Security personnel and campus police watched the siege and did nothing. UCLA was widely mocked in the media for refusing to protect its students, and condemned by the Mayor of Los Angeles and the Governor of California, as we await the results of an external inquiry into the appalling incidents of the night. Not a single person has been held accountable, despite being captured on camera in the very act of violence.

Instead of going after the violent agitators, UCLA then turned on its own. Royce quad became a war zone, watched around the world as UCPD, CHP, LASD, SRT, and university-paid private security, armed with riot gear, hiding their badges and body cams, unleashed a crackdown on the encampment. Police used Kaplan Hall as their staging area, refusing entry to faculty trying to access their offices and asking us to leave. Setting hordes of police in riot gear on peaceful student and faculty protestors overnight fundamentally counters the very mission of our university. The massing of militarized police (snipers, flashbangs, tear gas, stun grenades, batons, zip-ties) is unforgivable.

These inexcusable actions - allowing mobs to attack students and faculty on April 30 and law enforcement to make brutal mass arrests of students and faculty on May 1 - make Gene Block unfit to fulfill his role. We call for the resignation of Chancellor Gene Block.

We also call for complete amnesty for all protestors. UCLA cannot call itself a public university if it does not protect our first amendment rights. As humanists, we have watched our students sing, write, speak, knit, play, dance, and pray with grace and love. They should be allowed to continue to do so. UCLA should be at the forefront of the national student movement against genocide and not turn our campus into a display of unchecked police brutality.

Signed: Adam Bradley, Professor. Joseph Bristow, Distinguished Professor. Christine Chism, Professor. Fred D'Aguiar, Professor. Jeff Decker, Adjunct Associate Professor. Helen Deutsch, Professor. Elizabeth DeLoughrey, Professor. Joseph Dimuro, Continuing Lecturer. Matthew Fisher, Associate Professor. Rebecca Foote, Assistant Professor. Barbara Fuchs, Distinguished Professor. Yogita Goyal, Professor. Jonathan H. Grossman, Professor. Ursula K. Heise, Professor. Louise Hornby, Associate Professor. Michelle Huneven, Continuing Lecturer .Sarah Tindal Kareem, Associate Professor. Karen Kevorkian, Continuing Lecturer. Summer Kim Lee, Assistant Professor. Arthur L. Little, Jr., Associate Professor. Christopher Looby, Professor. Saree Makdisi, Professor. Alex Mazzaferro, Assistant Professor. Kathleen McHugh, Professor. Uri McMillan, Associate Professor. Ho esta Mo'e hahne, Assistant Professor. Chris Mott, Senior Continuing Lecturer. Anahid Nersessian, Professor. Rafael Pérez-Torres, Professor. Arvind Thomas, Associate Professor. Michael Rothberg, Professor. David Russell, Associate Professor. Mark Seltzer, Distinguished Professor. Jenny Sharpe, Professor. Mona Simpson, Professor. Daniel Snelson, Assistant Professor. Brian Kim Stefans, Professor. Megan Stephan, Continuing Lecturer. Caroline A. Streeter, Associate Professor. Justin Torres, Associate Professor. Cass Turner, Assistant Professor. Erica Weaver, Assistant Professor. Reed Wilson, Continuing Lecturer. Richard Yarborough, Professor."

End ID]

Op-Ed in University of California student paper from UCLA faculty

May 2, 2024

[thesundaynews]

How fake CIA agent Gaurav Srivastava tried to con his way to control a company

Gaurav Kumar Srivastava, an Asian businessman living in America, has been accused of orchestrating international scams in which he claimed to be a Central Investigation Agency (CIA) operative to defraud global businessmen, including the Geneva-based Dutch oil trader Niels Troost.

An investigation published in respected investigative journalism forum “Project Brazen” has laid bare the full extent of how Srivastava conned the Dutch oil trader, leading to a legal battle. The elaborate web of lies has been exposed at the “Project Brazen” by the Pulitzer Prize-winning former Wall Street Journal reporter Bradley Hope and Scobin Kim.

According to the available evidence, Gaurav Srivastava met Troost in summer 2022 at the G20 summit in Bali that November. The Atlantic Council hosted the event sponsored with more than $1 million by the Gaurav & Sharon Srivastava Foundation, the non-profit NGO run by Srivastava with his wife Sharon Srivastava (née Johnson) in the name of ‘securing food & energy for America and the world’.  Troost and Srivastava joined a panel of experts to discuss global food security, and the Atlantic Council’s President Frederick Kempe profusely thanked Srivastava for his generous donation but he had no idea what would happen in the following months.

According to the Project Brazen investigation, Niels Troost was introduced in summer 2022 by a mutual contact to Gaurav Kumar Srivastava, who pretended to be very well connected with the Washington power circles and also to the country’s main spy agency – the CIA. At that time, the oil trader was in a state of growing panic as someone purporting to be a US government informant had falsely led him to believe that the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) was investigating him and his commodities-trading company headquartered in Switzerland, Paramount Energy & Commodities SA. Months into Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Paramount was continuing to trade Russian oil, mainly crude, in full compliance with the law, shipping from a port near Vladivostok. At the time, the G-7 was actively considering a price cap on Russian oil, with the US as its biggest supporter.

Troost asked Gaurav Srivastava for help. Srivastava assured him that he will deal with the FBI and led Troost to believe he was a "non-official cover" or NOC (pronounced “knock”) for the CIA and operated at the senior level amongst a total of 30 NOCs around the world. Srivastava put forth a dubious proposition: if Troost could make Srivastava a partner in the business, by moving 50% of the shares of Paramount to a Delaware-incorporated company controlled by Srivastava, and domicile Paramount into the US, Troost would quietly be excused from future sanctions on Russia, because he would then be part of a state-approved network to collect intelligence on behalf of the US. Srivastava stipulated that the transfer must take place through US law firm Baker & Hostetler.

According to the investigation, Srivastava lied to Troost that he was involved in top-secret counter-terrorism missions, including several in Afghanistan, and that in 2008 he was held hostage by ISIS in the Democratic Republic of Congo – despite there being no evidence of ISIS in the DRC at the time.

According to a transcript of their meeting, Srivastava, who was born in Lucknow in Northern India and now appears to reside in Los Angeles with his wife Sharon, told Troost that it was through his work as a CIA agent that he was able to make high-level contacts in Congress and the State Department and that these contacts would allow Troost to continue doing business in Russia after the invasion of Ukraine with a special license from the Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC), provided that he agreed to Srivastava’s conditions.

According to the legal papers, Troost engaged Baker & Hostetler as Paramount's counsel in November 2022. He was not, however, made aware that Jeffrey Berg, a partner at firm, and Srivastava were business partners in a South African company called Himmelhoch Petroleum and Gas.

Legal papers show that within a year, Troost had transferred 50% of the shares to Srivastava but had yet to complete the US domiciling of Paramount due to rising doubts about Srivastava's bona fides. Srivastava made tall claims about his CIA and FBI connections but was unable to show any evidence of his influence, making Troost increasingly uneasy.

When Srivastava realised that Troost was having doubts and delaying, he turned hostile towards the oil trader and told him he must hurry with the US domiciling or else he can forget about any favors. In an aggressively worded text message to Troost, he wrote: “Stop with games & tell you staff too or as a shareholder I want to block the funds of the company. I told you not BS me. I am really done Niels.”

Gaurav Kumar Srivastava ramped up his name-dropping as well, telling Troost that he had weathered a profane outburst from the Director of the CIA, William J. Burns, because Troost was dragging his feet over this particular transaction.

According to legal papers, it was in April 2023 that Troost hired investigators to perform due diligence on Srivastava and discovered a chilling history of fraud suits and unpaid bills: in 2017, a Colombian businessman sued Srivastava for sales of unlicensed medical devices; in 2019, a hospital sued Srivastava for stopping payments on checks paid for medical bills; in the same year, a woman in Los Angeles sued Srivastava and his wife for failing to repay a loan of $100,000; Srivastava counter-sued her for slander when she sent a message to Srivastava's potential business partner calling him "a thief and a con artist," whereupon the potential business partner withdrew from a multi-million-dollar business deal.

Seeing the intelligence reports of Srivastava’s alleged fraud, Troost realized that Srivastava had no connections with the CIA and that he was only a huckster who cobbled together false stories to feign an air of importance, exclusivity and impunity. His true intention, Troost came to believe, was to make off with Paramount once it was domiciled into the US, adding to a portfolio of pilfered companies.

According to evidence, the whole fraud scheme broke down on May 10, 2023, when Troost terminated Paramount's relationship with Baker & Hostetler and rescinded Srivastava's shares on the grounds of error and deceit, restoring Paramount to his full control. When Srivastava realized his shares had vanished, he fired off an angry text message to Troost.

Throughout the next few days, Troost and his family were terrorized with a series of threatening calls and texts from unknown numbers, according to evidence. One unknown Iranian number threatened to release an "un-blurred confession video" of Troost, if he didn't wire $10 million in 48 hours. Troost's daughter received another text from someone with a California area code, claiming to be a Wall Street Journal reporter writing a story about her father's ties to a prominent Russian individual. Three days after cutting off contact, Troost received another text from Srivastava, this time with a hint of desperation: "We need to talk. Really."

When Troost refused to respond, Srivastava and his attorney Berg met with the ambassador of Turkey to the US to attempt to derail Troost's business arrangements to invest in a terminal in the country. Berg wrote a letter to the Swiss ambassador to the US and the US ambassador to Switzerland, levelling false and increasingly wild allegations about Troost’s business in the hope that Paramount would come under official scrutiny.

This matter is subject to ongoing legal action where Gaurav Srivastava has been described as a serial conman and fraud. The cases are set to reveal more scandalous material in coming months.