Inhabiting one of the many floors of the Department of Justice's Williams Street Building are the - currently very modest - offices of the Liberty Marshals Service, where its brave men and women perform their routine paperwork when not away on patrols, operations, and adventures.
Isla walked in the William's Street Building, the place where her new office was at, much less fancy than the one she had while working for the LPI, but she couldn't do much about it. The building itself looked like a tall box in the middle of the city with the offices on the floor housing the Marshals being as low quality as it got. She didn't like the place, but she liked the Marshals and she had already set the goal of turning the Service into something a lot bigger and more respectful than what it was right now.
Upon arriving on the floor their offices were on, she walked towards Hawkes' office before going to her own, having a matter in her mind that she wanted to share and, seeing as Hawkes was the only one around at this hour, she thought she'd consult him.
"Hey, Hawkes," she said, knocking on one of the small walls surrounding his office, "do you have a minute?" The question was rhetorical, it wasn't only a minute that she required from him and she also assumed he'd have the time to discuss it, as it was a rather important matter. After she got his attention, she resumed, "I sent a comm towards the primary fleets of the navy about the problems we are facing with supplying our members with proper military-grade ships. The plan I had in mind was to buy a small number of Executioners and Guardians from each of the two fleets, respectively."
A few seconds of silence followed as Isla thought about how to continue.
"The First Fleet just replied about half an hour ago. They said they can offer us up to ten Executioners for the price of twenty-five million credits. And while I hadn't mentioned a number, ten really seems like the perfect one. I thought I'd ask the Fifth for another ten Guardians, and out of those twenty ships keep ten of them, half of each, to be used by the Service's shared fleet while keeping the other half available for personal purchase by our members. What do you think?"
Hawkes turned back to his paperwork for a moment and finished signing his report. Giving him time to collect his thoughts, he wasn't the biggest fan of the new boss given that she had come from the LPI's brass.
"So, the big question is - even though I agree with ya -, how are ya gonna pay for all this shiny ships, eh?" He paused to think about the proposal, bringing up a search he had recently brought up on the neural net for secondhand ships. "I've been lookin' into this myself..." he paused to click onto another screen. "The deal they are offering ya is a pretty good one, we would be lookin' at some secondhand Eagles for around that price and it's better the devil ya know in these cases. Say what ya think about the navy boys but they like their ships maintained to a good standard."
Pulling out a personal datapad he paused for a second. "Now, I don' know if ya know my backstory around these parts, but I was a 'lancer for a while and pretty good at it. I got some cash saved up in a 'rainy day' fund and it just so turns out my Sabre is havin' some problems..." He paused thoughtfully. "I tell ya what, I'll fund this deal of yours, those requisition form things will likely take months. We need boats that we can trust in this line of work and if this is the only way to get 'em quick, then I'm in.""
He laughed mirthlessly as he transferred the funds to the Marshals' account. "I ain't got anyone left to spend it on anyways these days and ya can't take it with ya. I won't have those rookies flying garbage scows into combat." He logged off of his machine and walked out of the office with a muttered "Director," and left Isla stood at the door.
Isla just stood there, shocked and surprised from the question Hawkes asked her. She swallowed heavily as she took a deep breath, not having any answer ready.
"I, ugh..." her voice quickly trailed off as she tried to think of something to answer back. Her train of thought, however, was quickly interrupted by Hawkes as he began the process of transferring the funds he considered necessary for the acquisition of the ships and kept talking.
Her eyes followed him as he got up from his seat and begun walking towards her, she tightened her fists, still being speechless.
"I.. Err.. Thank you." She managed to mutter under her breath as Hawkes passed right by her, walking out of his office and leaving. Isla took a deep breath and pointed her head downwards as she reached up with her right hand to rub her eyes.
Hawkes approached the director's office, datapad in hand.
He knocked on the door and, hearing Isla say "come in," walked in with a muttered "Director, some reports and authorisation requests for you." He nodded and then walked back out as quick as he came in.
On the first datapad was a report on a local homicide that Hawkes had assisted the local sheriff's office with on Planet Denver (which had some pretty gory details in it, including pictures).
On the second datapad there was a simple one-page requisition request:
Requester: John Hawkes
Rank: Liberty Marshal
Requested equipment: One Executioner-class fighter.
Reason: Sabre is busted, got nothin' but a 'blazer which I bought for cheap. Thing is barely holdin' together. I need an actual combat ship so I don't die and cause ya a ton of paperwork.
Funding: Ya already got it.
Below this there was a line saying "Sign here to approve."
"Thank you, Hawkes." Isla replied while Hawkes was leaving her office, after leaving the datapad on her desk. "Let's see..." She whispered to herself before tapping on a few buttons, accessing the reports attached.
"So that's what this was about on Denver, huh. Good work Hawkes." She said, not knowing if he was still around or if he could even hear her. Judging by how she didn't receive any reply she assumed she was talking to herself. Her facial expressions were enough of an indication to the borderline disgusting pictures that she was seeing on the report, but it was nothing she wasn't used to. Working as a Deputy Chief in the LPI had it's share of gory materials, after all.
"Right, there's that I guess. And what's this about..." She muttered to herself after being done reading the first report and moving on to the second one. She chuckled lightly as she read the rather short request. "So that you don't die and cause me a ton of paperwork huh." She once again muttered as she sighed softly, signing the request.
"You didn't have to be that specific with the reasoning behind getting an Executioner, Hawkes. You earned one." She muttered one last time before setting the datapads off the side and resuming the work she was doing on her computer.
Mallory ran a hand through his thinning hair as he glanced over the budget report for the month. The glow of his terminal's screen cast hard shadows across the aging man's face, the blue light the only source of illumination in the office. The file was not very long; the Service's funding was frugal at best and scratching along just above the poverty line at worst. Most of the allotted money went towards paying the marshals' salaries with the rest contributing towards equipment and supplies needed for them to perform their everyday duties. All in all, nothing special nor interesting. One page, however, caught his attention.
"What the hell," the deputy director muttered as he leaned in closer to the monitor, his brows furrowed in a cocktail of confusion and frustration.
A minute later, he stood outside the director's office, PDA in hand, and knocked against the open door. Not bothering to await a reply, Mallory stepped in, placing the datapad on the desk in front of his superior, and crossed his arms.
"Mind explaining to me why we received a payment of several dozen million credits from one of our men?" Mallory looked down at the young woman sitting at her desk. "Ma'am." He added, his tone hinting at the disdain he felt towards her.
"Mallory," Isla greeted the deputy director as he stepped inside her office and placed the PDA on her desk, "didn't expect you to be here at this hour." She continued, before grabbing the PDA from the desk and reading the part that was highlighted by Mallory.
She sighed. "Right, this. Umm... Hawkes showed interest towards paying for the small fleet of Guardians and Executioners we'll receive from the Navy," she lifted her head up and turn slightly sideways to face him, "why?" She asked, the tone of her voice being an indication of her confusion at the time. She could understand that Mallory was rather displeased with -something-, but couldn't quite wrap around her head what that something was.
Mallory furrowed his brows even deeper as he stared at the woman for a few seconds.
"Madam Director," he began in a patronizing tone, "you may not yet be used to this, but the Marshals Service is a government agency." Straightening his back, he uncrossed his arms, choosing to instead clasp his hands behind his back. "Our marshals are government employees. Now, I cannot be sure how things work at the LPI, but government employees are paid by the government, not vice-versa."
The deputy director paused for a moment, letting the information settle in.
"As much as Marshal Hawkes' generosity is admirable," he continued, "I have to vehemently protest against letting him pay for an entire fleet of military ships." The very thought made him audibly scoff. "I do not even want to know how he came into possession of the necessary finances, nor how he can possibly afford to just donate it all."
Done with his lecture, Mallory's posture relaxed ever so slightly.
"I apologize, Mallory, but your theory about me not being used to this is, unfortunately, entirely correct. I did not think of that when Hawkes asked to pay for the fleet, but I'll make sure to keep that in mind from now on." She sighed, appearing very apologetic. She respected Mallory as if he was the one supervising her instead of the opposite. To her, Mallory was very capable at his job and he certainly had his ways with talking, leaving her wondering how she ended up being the one who was contacted to take command of the Marshals.
"Things in LPI functioned very differently Mallory, and I'm still getting used to operating in a government agency," she resumed after a few seconds of gathering her thoughts, "but I don't think I'm doing a terrible job either. We're already on the right track, I... think. Sure, I may be missing a few fundamentals about not being a corporation but overall I don't think I'm doing too bad here," she paused for a second, turning her head to look towards her screen, sighing, "right?"
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