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It was said that mistakes were the great lessons of life, that one mistake could be all it took to turn things around for the better, depending on the magnitude of it. Sitting in a chair opposite his Commander, Agent Aban Stone caught himself musing over the ridiculousness of the notion, and whether mistakes truly did make anything better, and currently his conclusion was no.
Commander Walters was shuffling papers across his desk, clearing his throat from time to time, working on something other than whatever it was he had called Stone in for. It was a clear delay tactic, something designed to make people feel nervous as they waited patiently for whatever chewing out was coming their way, and it might have worked on Stone a few years ago. Now however, he sat calmly, one leg crossed over the other, allowing his mind to wander until Walters was ready to address him. Honestly, it just felt good to sit and wait without having to use his brain, considering the hell he had been through in the last seventy-two hours.
“I can appreciate you may see this as a waste of time, Agent.” Walters finally spoke, without looking at Stone. “But I hope you can also appreciate why this is necessary.”
“I understand why you believe it to be necessary, sir,” Stone replied evenly, eyes on the wall behind Commander Walters, with a neutral expression on his face, “But I would prefer to be given my next assignment so I can make myself useful.”
Walters looked up at that, frowning, and for a moment Stone was concerned that he really was in here for major discipline rather than re-assignment. It would be par for the course, considering how badly his last mission had gone, but after the intense questioning he had gone through when returned to base, Stone had assumed it was on the back burner for now.
Maybe he was wrong.
“You’re pretty confident over getting a new assignment, Agent.” Walters said, crossing his arms on the desk as he surveyed Stone, “After the mess you made of the last one.”
Stone knew when to keep quiet, even if he was itching to mention that mistakes had been made, but mistakes could be rectified, and he was a too good an agent to be taken down by something so simple. It was the right move it seemed, because the stoic expression on Walters’ face changed to one of…pity? If Stone was reading him right - and he was sure he was - Walters looked like he was pitying him.
“Confidence is a good look on you, Agent, but it might not help you with this next role.” Walters stated, “I want you to know up front that this assignment is for-going any normal punishment or disciplinary you would normally receive for your work on the last job. Working at this job will not be easy, in fact it is probably going to be one of the most difficult assignments you have faced.”
“I can handle it, Commander.” Stone said, “Whatever I have to do to prove-.”
“Agent,” Walters interrupted, “I appreciate there may be something in you that compels you to prove you are better than your mistakes, but heed my warning when I say if this is too much for you, there is no shame in ducking out. Other Agents have barely lasted on this assignment.”
“I understand,” Stone nodded, “What is the assignment, Commander?”
“It would be better to show you.”
Walters shifted again and stood from the desk, a grim look on his face. Stone stood too, stepping to the side of his chair as Walters rounded the desk and left the room, expecting the Agent to fall into an easy step a pace or so behind him, which he did. As they walked, Stone racked his brain for any sort of indication of where they were going, or what assignment could be so bad that Agents walked away from it, willingly or unwillingly. There were always rumours in the ranks of the best and worst assignments to get, and despite some of the dangers of field work, it was said that desk work was the worst of the worst, because it lacked the excitement of being in the field, in dangerous situations and exciting places. It couldn’t be desk work because Walters wouldn’t have given such a clear warning.
So where were they going?
They stepped outside under an overcast sky and crossed the base. Eyes followed them, and Stone began to feel as if everyone on the base knew where he was being taken other than him, and it was not a feeling he appreciated.
“Are you aware of the Contractors we work with, Agent Stone?” Walters asked, bringing Stone from his thoughts.
“Yes Commander.”
“Your new assignment is a Contractor, one of the best we have.” Walters continued, “And one of the toughest to work for. Like I said, there will be no judgement if you cannot handle it.”
“If I were to fail in this assignment, Commander, would I still face disciplinary action?” Stone asked quietly as they turned from the main base lot toward the back warehouses, a space that the Agent had never really been to before.
“That depends on what he does to you to make you quit.” Walters replied honestly, stopping in front of a large warehouse with a strange insignia on it - a silhouette of a grinning face with a moustache - to look at Stone. “He knows we’re coming, and that he’s getting a new Agent but…be prepared.”
Stone didn’t say it would be nice to know what he was preparing for, as Walters rapped his knuckles twice on the door and waited for a response. He had seen that insignia before, but his brain was drawing a blank trying to put a name to it.
“Commander, can I know his name so I can at least address him properly?” He asked quickly, and Walters made a face that told Stone that was probably a good idea.
“Of course. We’re meeting-.”
“Doctor Robotnik,” Another voice said, catching both Stone and Walters’ attention to the now open doorway, where they had been joined by another man. Walters made another face, but plastered a smile on while he could. Stone simply stared, taking in the man before him - tall, handsome and sharp eyed, his dark hair was shaved in a fade before being swooped back off his face, and his dark moustache was tightly combed and styled. Illuminated by ominous red lights behind him, he was certainly a striking figure, and he was looking at them both with a less than impressed expression.
--
Before Robotnik opened the door to his onsite lab to Walters and the new Agent, he had been able to smell them coming. Walters’ scent he knew, but he had never sensed this Agent before, and yet his scent told Robotnik near enough everything he needed to know about who this man was.
The usual Agents assigned to him from the Government had the same scent - something sickly and energetically sweet that betrayed the military training and diets they still clung to like babies afraid to wean from their mother. It was not a smell that Robotnik enjoyed, and it was one of the main reasons he scared Agents away quickly. His longest lead time was eight days, but he had been perfecting his methods on each new Agent, and usually it only took three to four. Still, even with the Agents gone, their smell pervaded his senses and left his lab with a lingering stench that took weeks to clear, and he consistently told the Government not to bring him a new Agent. He didn’t need one, especially one not qualified to work in a lab such as his. Despite his protests - tantrums, the Government would say - they kept bringing them around.
And now Walters approached with a new victim.
Robotnik was always sent a file about the Agents they assigned to him, and this one had been particularly interesting.
Agent Aban Stone had a perfect case record - like Robotnik - except for the most recent mission assigned to him, which had reportedly gone sideways. The details were redacted, and no matter how deep Robotnik hacked into the Government’s files he couldn’t find a single trace of why. Whatever it was Stone had or hadn’t done, it had been big enough to put a single mark on his otherwise impressive record, and earmark him as the target for the next Agent to be assigned to Robotnik.
It was an impressive file, but it didn’t tell Robotnik as much as the scent of the man’s blood did, especially as it grew more and more powerful the closer the Agent got to his lab. For years, Robotnik had been searching for someone with perfectly balanced blood, someone who had seemingly perfected the ‘balanced diet’ that always seemed to be a fad amongst humanity, and it seemed now the Government was about to drop such a person into his lap.
Stone’s blood was a perfect mix of sweet, savoury and tangy to Robotnik’s senses. In fact, it was probably the most perfect blood the Doctor had ever experienced. It told him the man was somewhat a perfectionist, perfectly capable of holding his own and creating an impressive work-life balance despite being in the field as an Agent. If Robotnik had to guess, Stone would be tall, impressive in stature, perfectly presented and with thick veins, and the image made Robotnik’s mouth water momentarily.
How interesting.
Walters had stopped with the new Agent just outside the door of the lab, and Robotnik’s extra keen hearing picked up the lull of their voices. For some reason, Walters never liked to tell Agents they were being assigned to him until the last minute, probably out of fear that they were going to run away screaming, and it led to some memorable first meetings. Today, Robotnik was not in the mood for such games, especially with the scent of Stone so close to him, so he stood and approached the lab doors, opening them silently as the two spoke.
The Commander was an old sight, but Agent Stone was not. His dark hair and beard were perfectly trimmed and neat, he was dark skinned and dark eyed too match, suited up in black and perfectly calm as Walters went to introduce Robotnik before they had entered the lab. This was clearly Agent Stone, but it made the doctor’s brow furrow.
This was Agent Stone?
He was average height, and seemed to be average build under that suit, nothing like the picture Robotnik had conjured in his mind. He certainly didn’t scream ‘perfectly balanced super blooded human’, but at least Robotnik had been right about the Agent being perfectly presented. Before Walters could say his name, Doctor Robotnik did instead, drawing their attention to him and Robotnik was not surprised to see surprise on Walters’ face at his silent arrival. Stone on the other hand appraised him almost as quickly as Robotnik had appraised Stone just seconds before.
Those eyes had an intelligence hidden behind them.
Stone had appraised the doctor, and assessed what he could see of the lab behind him in seconds, identifying the Badniks hidden in the shadows as security, and planned escape routes if things went wrong. He had nothing on Robotnik’s brains of course, but there was a certain appeal to those eyes that Robotnik couldn’t shake.
And the smell.
Having the man mere inches from him was almost overbearing, but the Doctor had been practising self-control for longer than Walters had been alive, let alone Stone. Despite the inviting, hunger-inducing scent - that showed on his face, Robotnik was sure - he simply stayed where he was, looking over the two men before giving a menacing smile and asking,
“To what do I owe the displeasure, gentlemen?”