Work Text:
There are two little lights inside the rubbery sheath of the USB drive proper. When he holds this teeny-tiny personal Luxon up, he can faintly see them within if he holds it at just the right angle - there. Pinpricks of glass. The other, currently plugged in as the desktop chugs away, glows quite cheerily despite the circumstances.
It figures they would sell Luxon-shaped novelty USBs.
Exactly the sort of irony Essek can appreciate - at this point in his academic career, he is very familiar with stringing himself along by the smallest crumbs of satisfaction.
Dr. Daleth had made it clear he wanted the exchange to occur with nondescript items. But who would suspect no-nonsense and noted (very, very often noted) atheist Essek Thelyss of having religious memorabilia?
Sighing, he flicks the USB open - then closed, hiding its connector in one of the flat angles.
Open - no one would be surprised to find him working in the dark - accommodations and all. Closed - and he is allowed access to the data. Open - and many of the newer faculty have been so lax about taking information offsite, leaving ignorance as an excuse.
And he has not actually done anything yet, has he? Closed.
(What hasn’t he done, at this point? He was denied funding and permits - again, even after playing on that damn Thelyss name. Only good thing his father ever gave him, and for what?)
(He doesn’t have a choice. This isn’t a choice. He isn’t choosing anything, it’s just what has to happen.)
The computer trills - Essek jumps. Figures he forgot to mute the thing. He wipes his sweaty hands on his skirt before checking that the files were successfully copied. They were.
(No choice. Open, closed, open, closed.)
Taking a calming breath, he ejects and pockets his second Luxon.