11-25-2019, 11:04 PM
Department of Internal Security - Office of Employment - Central North District - NOV18
Csanad Surany, one of the many bureaucrats in IntSec with the task of analyzing applications to the department, was currently staring down at form in front of him submitted by an Alina Kaufer. Seeing as that the Department of Internal Security was the main intelligence and security arm of Shuell, they naturally vetted their applicants thoroughly, in order to prevent any chance of infiltration.
The task of checking these records was more repetitive than grueling, to be quite honest. With the day half over, Surany had already been through two dozen or so forms. Background checks were conducted, passports were inspected, and records were pulled for each potential recruit, in order to see if they even qualified for employment - physical tests and training were saved for later.
Satisfied that Kaufer’s passport was authentic, Surany had begun work on checking her background. She had been a 1st lieutenant in the Incorporated States Army, and her superiors had appeared to be quite fond of her, listing their support of her entry into IntSec. She had a degree in Criminal Justice from Sunder University, a fairly prestigious university that many high-ranking officials in the department had graduated from.
“Huh. That’s strange.” Csanad extinguished the cigarette hanging in his mouth in the ashtray on his desk and checked the discrepancy he noticed again. The parents of Alina - a Benjamin and Georgina Kaufer - were missing some records of their own. Acting quickly, he pulled a mobile communicator out of his pocket and dialed the Chief of Security for the district.
“Chief of Security, sir? It seems we have a problem.”
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Department of Internal Security - Office of Employment - Central North District - NOV24
Alina Kaufer walked with practiced false confidence as she entered the IntSec Office of Employment. There were armed guards throughout the building, as expected. She noticed them watching her as she walked, and it made her internally nervous, though she hid it extremely well. To a passer-by, she would seem perfectly calm and collected, almost flawlessly so.
"Good morning, my name is Alina Kaufer. I have an appointment," she said to the receptionist on the desk, giving a professional looking half-smile, conveying politeness without joy.
The receptionist behind the disk, a 30-something year old woman in a conservative outfit, smiled politely at her. "Of course, Ms. Kaufer." She tapped away on the keyboard in front of her, before looking up. "Take the elevator up to floor 5, then go down the hall to your right. Mr. Friedburg will see you shortly."
"Thank you," she nodded politely and made her way to the elevator. While she was ascending, she remained appearing completely calm, not dropping her false composure for a second. On the fifth floor, she exited, and made her way down the corridor, hoping that this was going to go well
The door to a Phillip Friedburg's office was open, with a bronze plaque underneath reading "Sub-Director of Employment." Two armed men stood outside, appearing to be more heavily armed than the other guards throughout the building. "Come inside, Ms. Kaufer," said a middle-aged man in a suit - presumably the Phillip Friedburg that the office belonged to. A stack of papers in a manila folder was beside him.
She entered the room, greeting him with her professional polite smile one more time, ignoring the armed guards for the time being, even though there was a slight feeling of unease in her stomach.
"Good morning, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said.
The two guards in front of the door stepped inside and closed the door behind them. "The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Kaufer. I am pleased to say that your passport and records all checked out. Your certifications exceeded our expectations, as well - General Adler's support of your application means a lot. However, I'd like to ask you a few questions about your parents. Is this okay?" He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"Of course," she answers, smiling again and managing not to show fear, even though her heart skipped a beat.
"Can you tell me about your parents? What were their jobs?"
"Well, they both passed away when I was sixteen. My mother died of lung cancer, and my father..." she bit her lip, looking momentarily sad, "killed himself from the grief. It was devastating. They did not have important jobs, my mother was a cleaner before she became too sick to work, and my father was, well, a garbage collector. We were... not wealthy growing up."
"I am sorry to hear that." He said, somberly. "However, there is an odd thing one of my staff noticed - there was no obituary for a Benjamin or Georgina Kaufer, and no passports or employment records at all. While records were lost during the regime change, the fact that there is nothing at all about them in the papers during the supposed time of death is quite odd. Do you understand?"
"Well, this is rather embarrassing," she blushed on cue, hoping it would hide the fact her heart began to race. "You see, the thing is, I simply couldn't afford to take out space in the paper to announce the death. There was not very much money at the time, after my mother's hospital treatment and all the funeral costs."
He nodded. "That is a fair excuse. However, there are no records of their parents at all. And between birth and death -" He opened the folder next to him and pulled out a stack of papers stapled together, before showing it to her. "No records of them in that period at all."
Alina Kaufer looked down at the file and her heart sank deep down. She knew she wouldn't get out of this. Still, she had to try.
"If the files weren’t lost, then I imagine my parents were hiding something from me. I do not know how to answer this question."
"Really." He snapped his fingers, and nodded to the guards. "Do it." Quickly, one of them violently clubbed her with the butt of their rifle, which knocked her to the ground. As she was pinned by them, her arms were twisted behind her back and she felt cuffs click around her wrists. Before she could get a word out, a boot to the head sent her into the sweet release of unconsciousness.
Csanad Surany, one of the many bureaucrats in IntSec with the task of analyzing applications to the department, was currently staring down at form in front of him submitted by an Alina Kaufer. Seeing as that the Department of Internal Security was the main intelligence and security arm of Shuell, they naturally vetted their applicants thoroughly, in order to prevent any chance of infiltration.
The task of checking these records was more repetitive than grueling, to be quite honest. With the day half over, Surany had already been through two dozen or so forms. Background checks were conducted, passports were inspected, and records were pulled for each potential recruit, in order to see if they even qualified for employment - physical tests and training were saved for later.
Satisfied that Kaufer’s passport was authentic, Surany had begun work on checking her background. She had been a 1st lieutenant in the Incorporated States Army, and her superiors had appeared to be quite fond of her, listing their support of her entry into IntSec. She had a degree in Criminal Justice from Sunder University, a fairly prestigious university that many high-ranking officials in the department had graduated from.
“Huh. That’s strange.” Csanad extinguished the cigarette hanging in his mouth in the ashtray on his desk and checked the discrepancy he noticed again. The parents of Alina - a Benjamin and Georgina Kaufer - were missing some records of their own. Acting quickly, he pulled a mobile communicator out of his pocket and dialed the Chief of Security for the district.
“Chief of Security, sir? It seems we have a problem.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Department of Internal Security - Office of Employment - Central North District - NOV24
Alina Kaufer walked with practiced false confidence as she entered the IntSec Office of Employment. There were armed guards throughout the building, as expected. She noticed them watching her as she walked, and it made her internally nervous, though she hid it extremely well. To a passer-by, she would seem perfectly calm and collected, almost flawlessly so.
"Good morning, my name is Alina Kaufer. I have an appointment," she said to the receptionist on the desk, giving a professional looking half-smile, conveying politeness without joy.
The receptionist behind the disk, a 30-something year old woman in a conservative outfit, smiled politely at her. "Of course, Ms. Kaufer." She tapped away on the keyboard in front of her, before looking up. "Take the elevator up to floor 5, then go down the hall to your right. Mr. Friedburg will see you shortly."
"Thank you," she nodded politely and made her way to the elevator. While she was ascending, she remained appearing completely calm, not dropping her false composure for a second. On the fifth floor, she exited, and made her way down the corridor, hoping that this was going to go well
The door to a Phillip Friedburg's office was open, with a bronze plaque underneath reading "Sub-Director of Employment." Two armed men stood outside, appearing to be more heavily armed than the other guards throughout the building. "Come inside, Ms. Kaufer," said a middle-aged man in a suit - presumably the Phillip Friedburg that the office belonged to. A stack of papers in a manila folder was beside him.
She entered the room, greeting him with her professional polite smile one more time, ignoring the armed guards for the time being, even though there was a slight feeling of unease in her stomach.
"Good morning, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said.
The two guards in front of the door stepped inside and closed the door behind them. "The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Kaufer. I am pleased to say that your passport and records all checked out. Your certifications exceeded our expectations, as well - General Adler's support of your application means a lot. However, I'd like to ask you a few questions about your parents. Is this okay?" He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"Of course," she answers, smiling again and managing not to show fear, even though her heart skipped a beat.
"Can you tell me about your parents? What were their jobs?"
"Well, they both passed away when I was sixteen. My mother died of lung cancer, and my father..." she bit her lip, looking momentarily sad, "killed himself from the grief. It was devastating. They did not have important jobs, my mother was a cleaner before she became too sick to work, and my father was, well, a garbage collector. We were... not wealthy growing up."
"I am sorry to hear that." He said, somberly. "However, there is an odd thing one of my staff noticed - there was no obituary for a Benjamin or Georgina Kaufer, and no passports or employment records at all. While records were lost during the regime change, the fact that there is nothing at all about them in the papers during the supposed time of death is quite odd. Do you understand?"
"Well, this is rather embarrassing," she blushed on cue, hoping it would hide the fact her heart began to race. "You see, the thing is, I simply couldn't afford to take out space in the paper to announce the death. There was not very much money at the time, after my mother's hospital treatment and all the funeral costs."
He nodded. "That is a fair excuse. However, there are no records of their parents at all. And between birth and death -" He opened the folder next to him and pulled out a stack of papers stapled together, before showing it to her. "No records of them in that period at all."
Alina Kaufer looked down at the file and her heart sank deep down. She knew she wouldn't get out of this. Still, she had to try.
"If the files weren’t lost, then I imagine my parents were hiding something from me. I do not know how to answer this question."
"Really." He snapped his fingers, and nodded to the guards. "Do it." Quickly, one of them violently clubbed her with the butt of their rifle, which knocked her to the ground. As she was pinned by them, her arms were twisted behind her back and she felt cuffs click around her wrists. Before she could get a word out, a boot to the head sent her into the sweet release of unconsciousness.
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