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“I’ll see you at the strategy meeting tomorrow, Blemishine!” Doctor saw the operator out of the office, stretching as they stood in the doorway. As they did, they noticed Fiammetta sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room outside, the only one in the room. Somewhat confused, the Doctor decided to poke their head in.
“Operator Serrenissima? Did you wish to speak to me?” Fiammetta’s ears perked up at her operator title, and she nodded.
“Yes. I have an… issue that I need to deal with. I’ve already spoken to Kal’tsit about it but she said it would be best to speak to you.”
“Hmm, okay. Well, do you want to come into my office quickly? I don’t have any more appointments scheduled.”
“If that would be okay, yes,” the operator was being incredibly formal - even more than usual. It had taken a while for the Liberi to let her guard down whatsoever around Rhodes Island, but in recent months she’d been much less closed off to the organisation - particularly to the Doctor, alongside her movie club and some other staff like Kal’tsit. For a regression like this…
Whatever it was, the Doctor intended to deal with it quickly.
“Take a seat,” they gestured at the seat in front of their desk, sitting down on their own. When Fiammetta refused the seat, the Doctor tried to hide their raised eyebrow. “So what was it you needed?” The Doctor took a sip of their somewhat cold coffee as they spoke.
“Well… I was hoping to terminate my contract with-”
PHTT
And immediately spat out the coffee.
Punching their chest, the Doctor apologised through coughs and splutters. “Apologies, this is just um… somewhat out of left field.”
Fiammetta nodded, apparently taking their surprise in stride. “I… expected that. I can promise I have no issues with Rhodes Island, it’s just… situations have changed, and I feel it is no longer the right place for my services. I apologise.”
“I see…” the Doctor leaned back for a moment, before quickly filtering through some pages on his desk, taking a couple out and sliding them towards Fiammetta. ‘Laterano Affiliation Proposal’ was in big, bold letters at the top of the first. “It wouldn’t have to do with this, would it?”
…
“I am aware you don’t like speaking about your past, Fiammetta,” the operator didn't look up from the pages, even at the use of her own name. “But there are still bits you give away. The Laterano profanities you use, as opposed to the Iberian ones used by Liberi from there. The sweet tooth that always seems drawn to frozen desserts, your proficiency with firearms and your tendency to explosives. It didn’t take longer than a supply audit to know the ammunition you use traces its origins to the holy city, after all.”
“So what? You have me all figured out, then? It’s not like I hide I’m from Laterano.”
The Doctor chuckled lightly, waving his hand. “Not at all. You’re still very much a mystery. And don’t worry, there’s no need to be cagy now, either. I don't intend to push you on any details you haven’t expressed already. It’s up to you when, if ever, you trust us with that information.”
“So what’s the point of telling me all things I already know you know?”
“The point,” The Doctor sighed, leaning back, “Hmm. I guess the point is, I like knowing about my operators. I want them to be safe, and happy as they can in their roles. Knowing about them helps with that. So, as I and the other staff have been organising this agreement, we have all been aware of your past and… caginess, surrounding it, despite some willingness to express your eccentricities from coming from such a place.”
“Hence we also have this,” the Doctor removed the front couple of pages.
“...a termination page?”
“Yes, for our agreement with Laterano.”
…
“...why?”
The Doctor chuckled again, sighing lightly. “Several reasons, all wrapped in one. For one, you are currently one of our most indispensable artillery operators, and the work you’ve done covering retreats and rescue operations means you have quite a following here, one who I imagine would be quite dismayed to see you go, to not begin to discuss the impact your loss itself would have.
Setting a precedent on valuing other organisations over our own operator loyalty would also harm the trust our operators have in us, and could also lead to a precedent of governments believing they can crowbar their way into influencing us. And lastly, of course, there’s the relic you brought to Rhodes Island - the Black Lock and White Key. We don’t fully understand it yet, but Kal’tsit and the other researchers value it enough that it, and by extension yourself, have been recommended high priority in terms of resources.”
The Doctor took another sip of coffee. “To put it somewhat simply, Fiammetta, your position is somewhat indispensable.” She didn't reply, clutching the fur of the black coat she always wore. The Doctor sighed. “Of course, this is somewhat of a uh, sledgehammer response, if you will. Who’s telling if it’ll work or if Laterano’s response may change our plans? Should there be an easier way to amend things, that would of course be a safer and preferred route. But right now, well, we don't have the knowledge for that.”
…
“...there’s a person- no. People, who I don't want finding me in Laterano.”
“I see. Well, we can ensure none of your personal information is sent - at most, a record of your operator title and role, but that is it. Is there… any chance one or more of these individuals may end up being proposed as operators?”
Fiammetta nodded.
“I see… well, we could always use a screening process to disguise picking out someone you trust if there is anyone?”
“...Oren Argiolas. He’s a Legatus, and he’s aware I’m here. He helped keep me informed on things in Laterano.”
“Anyone else?”
“Federico Giallo. Maybe. I’d have to contact Oren to check, but I always trusted him. He wouldn’t tell Laterano anything, I don’t think.”
“Very well,” The Doctor stood, cracking their back. “I shall add those amendments to the plan then. If you let Kal’tsit know when you hear back from that Oren person, then she can sort out recruitment. Anything else?”
“No.”
The Doctor saw Fiammetta out, who thanked them for their time. After a couple of minutes sorting out the amendments to the proposal, the Doctor began to lock up their office for the night, filing papers away and turning off the lights. As they left, however, Kal’tsit was waiting.
“How was she?” Straight to the point.
“Fiammetta was okay. We’ve managed to sort out a new proposal to keep her safe, whilst maintaining the agreement with Laterano.”
“Thank goodness. I really didn't want the headache of arguing with the Sankta.”
The doctor laughed. “Well, there is still some work. We need a background check on these two operators. Fiammetta said she trusts them, but I’d like to be certain.” Kal’tsit mulled over the names.
“Both Laterano right? I’ll see if Archetto might know something, but it might need Projekt Red if the individuals aren’t ‘notable’ enough.”
“I see.”
…
“Was there something else?”
“You know what I want to know,” Kal’tsit snapped, growling lightly when the Doctor laughed.
“I know, I know, don’t worry,” the Doctor began to walk, Kal’tsit following next to them. “There’s a person in that city she fears. Or people, more than likely, though I feel for differing reasons. But reasons enough she’ll do anything to ensure they don't find her.”
“Do you believe she may jeopardise the company? Or these people she fears?”
“No, nothing that drastic. But, more than likely she would rather flee than risk discovery. And the people… I’m not certain yet, but some may do. We can only see.”
“...very well, Doctor.” Kal’tsit was clearly unsatisfied, but the Doctor only shrugged. That was all there was.
Mostly.
Later on, in their room, the Doctor mulled over their notes. There was one thing they’d kept hidden, for they weren’t certain of it just yet.
The coat with the fur-trimmed hood, the one Fiammetta always wore yet never fit her. The one she’d clutched so tightly during the meeting.
“Who are you longing for, Fiammetta? And why are you hiding from them?”
It was a question for the drawing board, at least.