[Democratic Republic Of Eiria]

New Riga, District 16
August 10, 2024, 9:54 PM

The soft pitter-patter of the rain nearly drowned out the sound of the woman in gray’s boots on the asphalt of the street. In this part of the Eirian port city, many of the shops had already closed down for the day, with just the occasional restaurant or convenience store still having their lights on. Not very many people were walking on the sidewalks, given the weather and the area’s distance from the nearest subway station. For some, that would make the street feel eerie or disconcerting. For others, these circumstances were perfect.

As the road began to slant downward towards the coastline, the woman ducked down an alleyway, counting the number of dirty doorways until she reached the one she sought. Pushing the door open slowly, she followed a cramped and dingy set of stairs down a couple flights before arriving at a significantly cleaner and more sturdy door. Some mild noises echoed from beyond the door, but the stairwell was still mostly silent.

Knock knock. The sound of her knuckles wrapping on the door reverberated through the stairwell. A grate on the door slid open, letting a neutral voice pass through. “Kēa eris?”

“A person who has words for the Lighthouse.”

After a few seconds, the door swung open, allowing the woman to pass through between a pair of armed guards. The basement of this dingy building had been transformed into a lively bar and casino, with finely-dressed patrons moving from table to table with a subtle grace. The woman in gray made her way over to the bar, where a bartender in a Prōtint-inspired mask moved down to take her order in a flash.

“Just a UpZert for me to start, thank you,” she said, examining the crowd behind her as the bartender opened a can and poured a purple soda into a glass.

“What color flag would you like?” The bartender asked, his mask not fully disguising his piercing gaze as he asked the seemingly innocuous question.

“Red, please.” In spite of the mask, the woman could feel the bartender raise his eyebrows at her reply. He did not make any comments, however, as he put a miniature red flag on a toothpick into her glass and went to attend to other patrons. The woman turned around, taking her own eye mask out from her pocket and putting it on. She held her drink further out in front of her, making sure it could be seen from all sides of the room.

It did not take long for a larger gentleman in a black suit to make his way to the bar, taking the open chair next to her. His mask was more simple than hers or the bartender’s, yet more ominous. “How may I help you?”

The woman gritted her teeth slightly, running her eyes up and down the man’s outfit to note the subtle decorations on his suit. “Where is the Lighthouse? I only do business with the Lighthouse or his two direct lieutenants, not contractors or family members. It makes things cleaner.”

The masked man grunted. “The Lighthouse has business elsewhere, and his lieutenants rarely waste time on customers who walk in without appointments. Now, shall we talk?”

“I’m sorry that I’m wasting your time, then.” The woman turned her body back to the bar, pointedly ignoring him. After what seemed like a minute, the man sighed and left, causing the woman to hold her breath a bit. Come on…

A few minutes passed before a taller woman in a similar suit and mask to the previous gentleman walked over to the bar, quickly making her way towards the woman in gray. “You didn’t have to be rude to my staff to get my attention, you know. You can just tell them that you have a personal delivery for me or the boss, and they’ll trust it.”

“Perhaps, but my way is more fun,” the seated woman replied with a slight smirk. “Besides, he should know me by now.”

“You underestimate how many guests pass through our doors, Lira. Plus, you do not come here for weeks or months at a time. I work with unpredictable informants quite often, but you are truly the most flighty of them all.” The tall woman adjusted the cufflinks on her suit, which were bronze and shaped like miniature lighthouses.”Why are you back, Lira?”

“Lira” took a sip of her drink. “The Ministry of Justice has taken quite an interest in the watchers again. I know for a fact that there are numerous undercover agents here, in Geminus, Serenity, and other areas. They’re posing as customers and informants, trying to take down entire clusters of Watchers. Warrants are already processing for three prominent Watchers and their associates in our city alone. A power vacuum is on the horizon, and if you are not careful, you and your boss will end up swept away in the chaos.”

“And you can help us avoid this fate, hm? I’ve heard rumors of agents poking around the financial side of the business, but nothing like what you describe. How do I know that you are not lying to me for a quick cash grab?”

Lira took out an envelope and placed it on the table, keeping it within her reach. “These are the personnel files of five of the government agents operating on this side of the city who would pose the most threat to you right now. I’ll give you this alone for twenty-five, but given my position, I can work on disrupting their investigation myself. For the right price, of course. I’ll let you talk to the Lighthouse about that payment.”

This reply evidently both intrigued and annoyed the taller woman, who looked at the envelope for a few moments before replying. “I understand that your price is final, as always?” After receiving a nod, she sighed. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

The woman disappeared in the crowd for a couple minutes before returning, a silver key in her hand. “Show me them first.”

Lira opened the envelope, spreading the papers out so the Lighthouse’s lieutenant could get enough of a look to confirm that the deal was fair. Once she had done that, the taller woman dropped the key on the bar. “Safety deposit box two-eight-six, Renou Bank, Twelfth District. Wait two days before retrieving it.” The lieutenant also placed an old phone on the bar. “We will be in touch with further instructions.”

After the woman in gray watched the other woman walk towards the casino, she downed her drink, placed a Lunen note on the bar, and then made her way towards the exit. After all, she had work to do now. The government’s meddling may now have given her an extra job, but she would need to act quickly, lest she hop on board of a sinking ship.

And in the port city of New Riga, sinking ships were soon to be much more common…

[Democratic Republic Of Eiria]

Department of Investigation and Enforcement Headquarters, East-Central Geminus, Eiria
October 6th, 2024

The shiny headquarters of Eiria’s national law enforcement agency bustled with its usual Monday morning rhythm. Inside the grand building of white stone and glass, the Republic’s top law enforcement professionals all gathered together to solve the most high-profile crimes plaguing the nation. Up on the third floor on the northern end sat a cluster of offices occupied by officials with one specific target in mind: Organized crime.

A staff assistant, with a large stack of folders tucked under his arm, peeked his head into a cubicle where his boss was sitting. “These just came in from the Kōt-Libre Office of Policing. Sorry for the wait, an officer from the Ministry of Culture kept them on hold until he approved the D-5 classification for them. I told him that every other document in this case is already D-5, but that just made him grumble and move slower.”

“Sounds about right.” Nōra Matisone sipped tea from her Skudrasej*-branded mug before taking the folders from the assistant’s hands. “Thank you.” After skimming a few of the files, she practically lept from her chair, moving as fast as her boots would let her towards her own boss’s office. She walked straight through the open door, only pausing once to make sure the Chief Officer wasn’t otherwise occupied. “They got Svilans and his crew. Thirteen arrested, four enforcers dead in the gunfight. Two police officers were injured, but are in stable condition.” She quickly dropped the stack of files on the desk, causing a pencil to roll to the floor. “Police on the scene also got evidence that Silvans may have been bribing the local deputy chief of police in order to keep up his operations.”

Chief Officer Kīus Lekōlk nodded pensively, only letting a small hint of a smile flicker across his face as he opened the first folder. “Very nice, well done. Let's not break out the drinks yet, though. Have the police remain vigilant. There is no way that one of the biggest crime operations in the south, worth millions of lunens, could be run by just seventeen people and a corrupt cop. Let's get one of our officers down there to supervise as well. Half of that department could be on Svilans’ payroll.”

“Of course. I'll see what Julia or Tōma are working on and send one of them down to supervise. I'm sure Andirs is going to love the extra discretion and disclosure papers, but he's always grumbling about something new,” Matisone joked. “Svilans and his team of lawyers are probably doing everything to make the lives of the local prosecutors hell. Given how much money Svilans has, we should try to comb through his records and make sure that said lawyers aren't being paid for with illegal funds.”

“Good idea. Maybe grab one of the investigative accountants from the Business Law Office over with Monetary Law. They should take the load off you so you aren't spending your days looking at tax returns.”

“I'd appreciate that, thank you.” Matisone tapped her thumbs on her Halar. “So, now that Svilans is captured, do you want me to help with one of the other open investigations once everything is wrapped up?”

The Chief Officer shook his head. “You're too valuable, and the others have already made significant progress with their cases. I got a report from the Ministry of Transportation that Port Security agents executed a sting operation in the Port of Merēta. A pair of dock workers got caught doctoring the log books, and now their lawyers and union representative are making things difficult.” Lekōlk opened one of the drawers of his desk and handed her a file. “Taking bribes for covering up smuggled cargo in one of the biggest ports in the country and refusing to talk to authorities. That smells like RJ behavior to me.”

Matisone raised her eyebrows. “I'll look into it. I'll also send the assignment paper for the accountant to your desk later today. Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you, Nōra.” As the door swung shit behind his best agent, Lekōlk sifted through the files that she had left on his desk. It was only upon seeing a copy of Raimonds Svilans’ (rather unflattering) mugshot that the Chief Officer of the Office of Organized Crime finally allowed himself to fully smile. From the inside pocket of his jacket, he retrieved a small fabric-bound journal and a pen. He carefully opened it to a page and clicked his pen, crossing off a line before returning the journal to his pocket.

Right. Back to work.

*Skudrasej is an E-Rock band known for their intricate drumming rhythms and distinct masks while performing. Their name is a homophone in Eirian, either meaning “Ant-Face” or “the Ants”

[Democratic Republic Of Eiria]

Deziet, deziet atrijama…

A middle-aged man in a fine gray suit sat at the bar of a high-end club in Atlantis, sipping a cocktail of imported liqueur and local spirits. The mood around him was relaxed and refined, as the club was known for catering to fairly wealthy clientele. A pianist played an excerpt from one of Montej’s famous solo pieces, filling the air with the soft notes of a middling Eirian composer. The man at the bar ran one hand through his slick hair, brushing it to the side while watching his own reflection in the bar's polished surface.

The bartender placed a refill of his drink on the oak bar top without a word (but with a polite smile), earning a nod of thanks from the gray-suited man. After finishing off the dregs of his original glass, he began to slowly nurse the refill, taking the time to survey the room.

Voices from the entrance of the club echoed throughout the hall, turning quite a few heads. A number of individuals in plain black uniforms pushed past the staff at the front, quickly spreading throughout the room. The piano faded away as its player peeked curiously over her sheet music in an attempt to get a better view of what was going on. Back at the bar, the man had turned pale, taking another sip of his drink while trying desperately to keep a straight face.

Alas, his efforts were in vain. Two officers approached opposite sides of the bar, scanning faces until one of them locked eyes with the man in gray. She started to approach him, her partner doing the same from the other side. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

With a grim smile, the man downed the rest of his drink and turned to face the music.

Dan Lucis (The Atlantis Falcon)

—

Deziet, deziet pašasama…

A hooded figure leaned against a dusty brick wall in a dark Geminus alleyway, vigilantly watching the intersecting street. In the fading evening light, anyone would be hard-pressed to even notice the figure, not to mention seeing their face. That was the point, after all. Jobs like this one required a certain sense of anonymity.

The figure checked their watch, doing the mental math on how much longer it would take their target to make his way down the steps of the nearby office building as he walked to his car. The figure reached into their coat and pulled out a pistol, quietly screwing on a suppressor as discreetly as they could. It wouldn't silence the gun entirely, mind you, but it would most certainly draw less attention, allowing the assassin to escape into the crowd unimpeded.

Before the figure could even cock their gun,
however, the main street was filled with the sound of sirens. Law enforcement officers in several different uniforms flooded the main street, making their way to the alley with their guns drawn and pointed.

The figure’s pistol made a metallic thud as it hit the ground.

The Fox (DG-9)

—

Sē mus paklam vī mus kram,

In a modest apartment in New Riga, a woman typed away on her computer, her LED-inlaid mouse changing color as she worked. Surrounding her was a range of papers, most being applications for various government documents (passports, driver's licenses, and even birth certificates). All of these were filled out with fake names, of course. But her work’s filing system wouldn't know the difference.

She closed one file with a click and navigated to her next task, logging back into the Office of Document Services portal with her work credentials. Using a scan of a forged birth certificate and a picture that had been staged to look like it had been taken by one of the mediocre cameras at ODS, she filled out the request form, being careful to not leave any details out that would cause the form to be sent back. Once she was satisfied, she clicked the blue “Submit” button at the bottom and moved on yet again.

A loud knock at the door disturbed her working rhythm, causing her to go stock still. “DEI*. Uvriet lei pōrt, kurena Leimane.”

The woman leapt to her feet, trying to shove as many of the papers as she could into inconspicuous places as the knocking on the door increased. She ran to the bathroom, desperately trying to pry open the window so she could reach the fire escape.

The sound of wood turning to splinters made her look back in fear as the agents kicked down her front door.

Aleksa Leimane (Libre-13F)

—

Persei nausei san dezana!

Across Eiria, day after day, the sound of handcuffs clicking closed echoed through both the highest and lowest levels of society. Business owners, everyday workers, and shadowy criminals alike were being rounded up en masse without hesitation. And what did all of these arrests have in common?

They were all authorized by Kīus Lekōlk, the government's point man on organized crime.

*Departmant dei Enketecōn ut Istenēča (Department of Investigation and Enforcement)

[Democratic Republic Of Eiria]

”The sea's memory is long, and its patience is eternal.” -Old Eirian Proverb

”His domain of water may be still, but the seas never sleep. Know that their stillness will be brief before their retribution.” - Excerpt from the Unitist Mailanju Svekrē, Testimony of the Angel of Water, 3/12.

—

Serenity City, Eiria

The dockyards of Serenity City were quiet for a seaside metropolis, even for the middle of the night. Not a hushed sort of quiet, like the sound of someone trying to conceal something. Abnormally quiet.

Dead quiet.

There were no longer the sounds of smugglers slowly opening shipping containers. No more footsteps of corrupt guards or customs agents sent to make sure the coast was clear. Serenity City was once a major hub for international smugglers wanting to bring things into Eiria, but those days had seemingly disappeared without a trace.

All this to say, there was no better time and place to set up shop.

The steps of heavy work boots hitting the ground perforated the veil of silence hovering over the dockyard. Having already paid the requisite bribe to enter the area, the figure examined the empty cargo containers with a relaxed curiosity. After ascertaining that the area met with their specifications, they switched off their flashlight and turned heel, disappearing into the night.
A few footprints in the gravel and the sound of rocks crunching beneath hard soles were the only signs that anyone had been there in the first place.

—

Central Geminus, Eiria

“My patience is running out, Lira. And you know what happens when it does.”

The steady baritone voice of the Lighthouse himself poured out of Lira’s Elek5 phone, although the veiled threat was made a bit less intimidating by the static of the speaker. Lira huddled under the front cover of the restaurant a few blocks from her work, trying to stay both dry and engaged with the conversation.

“I am trying to find the mole, I promise you. These warrants are coming out of nowhere. Entire operations are being surgically removed. It’s as if someone on the inside knows just what people to apprehend and what money to pin to cripple everyone involved,” She said, trailing off in thought.

“They obviously have people on the inside. I have had three reliable business partners captured since the start of the year, and even more since October. Now we have reckless gang leaders coming in and trying to replace them, not knowing the Laws of the Sea nor current territory claims. Angels help me, I hate upstarts. They do not understand the breadth of what they do not know.”

Under other circumstances, Lira might have laughed at the mob boss’ exhausted tone. Given his earlier threat, she decided against it. “I apologise. I am trying my best to find out who is leaking all of this information to the DEI. What I know so far is that the source did not go through the standard informant process. Whoever it is, they are close to someone high in the Department, and they know how to cover their tracks.”

“Find them, Lira. If they come after me, I promise you that I will take you down before I fall.”

The line went dead. After glancing around the street and regaining her composure, Lira adjusted her suit, opened her umbrella, and stepped back out into the rain.

[Democratic Republic Of Eiria]

Percakceda, Kōt-Libre Province, Eiria

“Taka partam deile kār dei Dešarula. Lei arjēča proš san es Universitej Avenu. Now departing Dešarula station. Next stop will be University Avenue.”

The young man gripped the metal pole beside him as the cramped subway car he rode in rocked back and forth, listening to the crackling voice of the intercom intently. He subconsciously checked the time on his phone, calculating the time left to his stop and comparing it to the time until his next class.

Life as an average student had certainly been difficult to adjust to for the man who now called himself Janis Nikōlas Lōranz, but compared to the media frenzy and uptight bustle that he was used to, it was a heavenly respite. A change of hairstyle, a few accessories, and an entire new identity were apparently enough for people just to forget his existence and go on with their lives, a fact that he found both unnerving and reassuring.

After all, it's not like he had been the heir to the throne of Auria, just the third-born prince. A proverbial spare tire for the monarchy.

As he once again contemplated all of the changes he had to make in order to get this new life up and running, the train slowed and the intercom beeped once again, signalling their arrival at a station. He grabbed his backpack, dodging and weaving his way through people in order to get off the train in time.

Okay, if I have thirty minutes to make it to Caxcanan Ecology, that means I have around ten minutes to spare. He made his way towards the nearest staircase as he planned out his route. That means I have just enough time to grab a quick lunch at-

A pair of hands shot out from behind a pillar and pulled “Janis” out of the light, one hand clamped tightly over his mouth to muffle any troublesome noises he could make. The student struggled against his assailant’s grip, flailing wildly in a desperate attempt to make it back into the crowded part of the station.

A prick in his shoulder led to a sense of release flooding his muscles, causing his escape attempts to slowly wane as his body went limp.

The last thing the incognito Prince of Auria saw before the world went dark was his backpack laying on the station’s tiled floor, abandoned.

—

“And no paparazzi has been able to find him in months! Wherever the royals are hiding him, they're doing a damn good job.”

The noisy sounds of the slightly drunk organized crime team filled the bar, earning dirty looks from other patrons.

Nōra absentmindedly fidgeted with a drink stirrer at the end of the long bar, only partially listening to the conversation her exuberant colleagues were having.

“Have you heard anything about Prince Mattēu, Rena? I know how you love to keep up with all of the monarchist drama, even more than I do. One might consider getting a hobby…” Julia Karšē elbowed a colleague playfully.

“Says you, with your ongoing Hae-pop obsession,” Renata quipped “But no, I haven’t. And that’s almost impressive, given the fact that our tabloid journalists are often better than the Ministry of Intelligence. But he’s always been a shy kid, and after his brother’s dating profile made the front page, I suppose he found ways to stay out of the spotlight.”

Julia nodded. “He’s sort of the opposite of Tōmas in that respect. As that dating profile showed, I doubt the Crown Prince has any problem with showing off…”

The raucous laughter of people enjoying jokes that are only really funny after a few rounds echoed through the room, and Nōra resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she stared down at her notebook. Her eyes darted across the names and descriptions of various criminals apprehended recently by their task force, trying to find any connections that could lead to more apprehensions.

Renata noticed Nōra sitting away from the group and walked over next to her, peering over her shoulder. “Working overtime again? Put that away, we’re not on the clock. I swear, your obsession with work almost rivals Kīus’s.”

Nōra sighed, but obliged, closing her notebook and turning towards the group. “Just wanted to make sure we weren’t missing anything.”

“Of course. But do you think that Kīus would ever let us miss anything? His attention to detail is ludicrous.” Renata flagged down the bartender, gesturing at her empty glass as she talked. “I suppose that makes sense, given his legal background.”

Nōra raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Kīus is a lawyer?”

“Yep. A damn good one too, so I heard,” Renata said, accepting her refill from the bartender. “Actually, that’s something I’ve never understood. Law degrees from NRRI and the Pečs School, experience with the Office of National Prosecution, and connections throughout the legal system, and yet he insisted on being an investigator. He could’ve been a judge by now, but he doesn’t want to leave.”

“Maybe he just loves the work?” Nōra mused.

“But even then, he could’ve moved further up right now. I heard he was offered Deputy Minister of Justice in 2022 after Ivanova was appointed to the bench, but he turned it down.” Renata shrugged, before nodding over to the rest of their colleagues. “But enough work talk. Let’s just enjoy the night. We’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

Nōra followed her colleague with only a token protest, leaving her notebook full of the faces of apprehended criminals laying on the bar.