Director Stephanie Beach was not a career intelligence officer. She occupied this position for two reasons. Number one, it was a directorship, and that always looked good on a CV. Number two, and most importantly, her lover had arranged for it to be hers.
To Stephanie Beach that meant that SHE had arranged for it to be hers, because she wasn't in the habit of taking powerful men to bed for their benefit, although she could see how that might easily confuse them. Her current amour was some big time CEO of some big business with close ties to the Federation's military industrial complex. She didn't really understand what those ties were, and didn't care.
He was also married, had two children, and was just about old enough to be her father too, at a push. The wife was the usual over-stressed mom with a body no man would lust after, even if she had the energy to be lusted after, which apparently she did not.
Stephanie was young, blonde, naturally busty (to the surprise of those who assumed otherwise), and spent an hour in the gym every day to make sure her man of the moment would do her every bidding. When they no longer did, or there was nothing more they could offer her, Stephanie would upgrade quick as a flash. It was an MO that had served her well, and her career in particular.
Not surprisingly, there had been many critics about her most recent appointment. A number of seasoned veterans of the intelligence community had been passed over in her favour. "Fewer jobs for the old boys," she'd retort, "due for retirement anyway." If ever an industry was in need of fresh blood and efficiency savings this was the one, she told those who asked - an unnecessary government expense.
She'd heard the doubters, the mumbled Stephanie Bitch moniker was rolled out again, just as it was everywhere she went, but her remit was clear, just as she'd told her lover it should be. She'd looked over government spending one day, seen the line for secret intelligence spending, and seen an opportunity. Even a 1% reduction was serious money, achieving that would secure her next government job and the next rung of the career ladder.
Two years she'd given herself, and she wasn't here to make friends.
"Anything else?" she asked, impatience writ large in her voice. These pointless GalCop briefings were the bane of her working day - no one cared about that ineffectual organisation any more. They were history, and so too would this department be soon enough.
"They have a new ship in the works."
"Something special?" she snapped, who actually cared about new ship designs?
"Our source seems to think so."
"Have you been able to cross check your source?"
There was a pause. That was all the cue she needed to get rid of this irrelevant little man. She stood up behind her desk and gestured towards the door:
"You know my rules, Tink. Now if you'll excuse me, I do have more meetings."
"Yes ma'am," he replied, but didn't move an inch. "It's just that," another pause, this time eliciting an impatient sigh from his boss. "It's just that our source believes they're about to ignore the moratorium on AI."
Well that buzzword caught her attention. She remained standing, but allowed him to go on.
"Ma'am, this is a trusted source in a sensitive position. We have no way to gather corroborative evidence."
"Hmpf, give me the summary."
Stephanie had been told by her predecessor to never trust intelligence that only came from a single source, always insist on corroboration.
"People lie, people deceive and manipulate, people have their own agenda," the outgoing director had told her with a sly smile, "don't they?".
That had been an uncomfortable hand-over meeting.
Tink was delivering his summary, she realised, her focus returning to the present. Why did they call him Tink, she wondered, making a mental note to find out.
"A crazy fast scout ship, tough as old nails, with an AI pilot. The intention is for it to evade Thargoid pickets with a view to gathering intelligence from deep within thargoid territory."
"So how does that interest the Federation?"
"If GalCop is seriously considering handing over control of such an important mission to an AI pilot, that suggests a lot of development time has gone into making it work."
"Can your man get his hands on that work?"
"Not directly, but they need a partner to build that ship."
Ah, the penny dropped for Stephanie.
"Ma'am, we need to make sure funding is available to make our prefered partner, their prefered partner."
So this is corporate espionage. There was definite potential.
"We also need to authorise a thank you payment for our source. His insider knowledge will be essential during the bidding process, so best to keep him sweet."
Ah, not from the kindness of his heart then. Well she could appreciate that, good old fashioned bribery. The efficiency savings would have to wait a while, this was too important to pass up and if they could pull it off, might be a bigger leg up than making those savings.
And the necessary funding, hmm, she had an idea where she might secure that from too. It would require upsetting a father of two, but all good things must come to an end. As Tink was ushered out of her office, it was time to make a call ...
"Hello you handsome banker. It's Stephanie, we met at that awards ceremony last month. Yes, that's right, the very short red dress. I've been thinking about how well you looked in that tux, rather a lot actually ..."