Valiant: Tales From The Archive

[CURSEd #12: …There Is An Equal And Opposite Reaction]

Log Date: 1/19/12764

Data Sources: Darrow Bennion

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

CURSE HQ: Boardroom

9:23pm SGT

“Look, I’m just pointing out the facts here. The HQ is massive. We need to start pulling rookie operatives into the sweep rotation so we can increase our patrol frequency!” Gossamer demands, slamming a hand down on the table.

“We’ve already had a squad of veteran operatives turn up dead.” Ironfist retorts from where he’s standing on the other side, leaning both fists on the table. “We are not going to endanger rookies by putting them in proximity to an intruder that can overmatch them!”

“You heard SCION! This Maskling is intelligent, it is clever, and it is catching onto our patrol patterns and evading them!” Gossamer snaps back. “We need to adapt, because the intruder is clearly adapting to us!”

“While both of you have presented valid arguments, raising your voices does not magically make them more compelling.” Nazka says stiffly, from where he’s standing at the corner of the table next to Tenji’s chair. “Take a moment, both of you, and consider making your points in a more civil manner.”

Gossamer glares, but pushes back into her chair and slouches in it, while Ironfist turns and starts pacing on his side of the table. Silence falls as the rest of us morosely contemplate the holographic map of the HQ hovering above the table, with spots where the intruder has been sighted marked in red.

“Have we gotten back the autopsies on the dead operatives yet?” Surge asks, breaking the silence after a moment. “I know it’s a little morbid, but it might provide some clues as to what we’re dealing with.”

“We have not, and we do not know when they will be complete.” Nazka answers. “However, the intelligence department has been working round the clock to produce answers regarding the incident, which in turn has given us implications about our opponent’s capabilities. A thorough review and examination of the transport that crashed into the HQ turned up an abnormality in the transport’s forward sensor array, the proximity sensors in particular. The reason the transport’s emergency braking subroutine did not kick on was because three zeros had been added onto the end of the proximity sensors’ readings.”

In the chair beside me, Whisper leans back, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “You’re serious. The reason almost two dozen people are dead is because someone forgot to carry the zero.”

“The transport’s systems would’ve thought the platform was thousands of feet away when it was really just mere feet away.” Headache murmurs. “The docking process for nearly all ships nowadays is automated. But shouldn’t the bridge crew have been watching and assuming manual control when they realized the docking procedure wasn’t going the way it should’ve?”

“In a perfect universe, they would’ve. But hundreds of seamless docking procedures over the years probably made them complacent.” Nazka replies. “Intelligence thoroughly interviewed all bridge crew and officers, and conducted background checks on all of them. There is no indication of malice aforethought — simply laziness and negligence.”

“But this means the sensor array was tampered with.” Gossamer says. “If their last docking procedure prior to this went smoothly, that means the tampering occurred on the trip here.”

“Indeed.” The doors to the boardroom slide open, and SCION steps in, with Tenji following behind him as he continues speaking. “I performed an inspection of the transport’s digital mainframe myself and found evidence that a sophisticated exploit had been deployed to affect the sensor array. It is unlikely to have been compiled on the fly; our intruder was probably given a portable drive containing the malware and a set of simple instructions to follow. It would not have been as simple as plug-and-play, but it would’ve been fairly close.”

“Meaning they were not acting alone.” Ironfist says, still pacing. “Someone supplied them with the means.”

“Which fits our favored theory of a nation-state actor.” Nazka concurs as Tenji takes her seat at the head of the table.

“More than you know.” she agrees as she settles in. “SCION, you may present.”

SCION waves a hand up, and the holoscreen running the length of the table clears the HQ map, instead filling with profiles. “On the morning of the attack, HQ Control received a cryptic text thread from an unidentified source containing personal and identifying information for a number of individuals. The thread was marked as spam and closed out, but in reviewing the information contained within the thread, intelligence was able to discern a pattern. All the individuals listed within the text thread are Masklings that have either died during CURSE-related action, or during the raid of the Vinnei Quill Sanctuary.”

“So the Masklings are definitely the ones that arranged this.” Surge concludes.

“No, not just that.” Ironfist says. He’s still pacing; you can see the gears twisting in his head as he gestures a hand towards the profiles. “This wasn’t arbitrary. It was targeted; it was retaliatory. They’re sending a message.”

“Ironfist is correct.” Tenji says, lacing her fingers together. “This was an act of terrorism intended to send a message. That message is telling us to back off. But so long as they’re aiding and abetting the resurgency, that’s not going to happen. We will respond to this, but before we do, we need to secure our house, and that means dealing with the Maskling agent that is still somewhere in our HQ.”

“We need increased patrols.” Gossamer starts again, leaning forward. “The intruder has learned our patrol patterns—”

“I understand your rationale, but it’s actually the exact opposite of what we’re going to do.” Tenji says without waiting for Gossamer to finish. “We’re going to be scaling back our patrols.”

Everyone looks to Tenji at that.

“Pardon me, what?” Gossamer says after a moment of stunned silence.

“We are running our personnel into the ground with these round-the-clock overlapping shifts. People are getting tired and irritated, and all we have to show for it is a squad of dead operatives.” Tenji says, flicking a finger over the glass surface of the table and bringing the map of the HQ back up on the holoarray. “The size of our headquarters, while typically a benefit, works against us in this situation. It is not possible to constantly be patrolling all the halls, especially the ones that are rarely frequented in maintenance and engineering. And it is clear at this point that throwing more people at the problem is not going to help. We need to adjust our approach. Since hunting down this intruder has gotten us nowhere, we need to pivot to trapping them instead.”

Ironfist taps a knuckle against his chin. “That’s a good point, Administrator. Instead of going after them, we let them come to us.”

“How do we know where to set the traps, though?” Surge says, motioning to the map of the HQ. “They’ve been all over maintenance and engineering, and we still haven’t figured out how they’re getting around without using the halls.”

“They are still on the headquarters for a reason, though that reason is unclear.” SCION speaks up at this point. “That is due, in part, to the measures we have taken. Logically speaking, the only reason they remain on the HQ is because they wish to commit further sabotage, or because they lack the ability to flee due to the fact that we have locked down any incoming or outgoing ships. If we lift the lockdown, we will be able to determine very quickly whether the intruder wants off the HQ, or whether they intend to stay and conduct further sabotage.”

“So let me get this straight.” Gossamer says, folding her arms. “You want to scale back patrols, lift the lockdown, and relax security, hoping that our guest will poke their head out?”

“We would only be relaxing security on the surface.” Tenji says. “Critical infrastructure will remain guarded round-the-clock, with the exception of two key areas: the docks, and the server rooms. Peacekeepers will remain staffed at these two areas, albeit discreetly so, to allow for quick response and detainment if the intruder takes the bait and surfaces. The rest of HQ will resume regular operations in a limited fashion, which will serve to lull the intruder into a false sense of security, and signal to the rest of the galaxy that we have matters under control.”

“It’s a fine line to walk.” Nazka cautions. “We cannot relax our security posture too much, especially after what happened a few days ago. The media would raise questions.”

“They won’t raise questions if we keep them busy. They’re nosy, but they’ve got the attention span of a squirrel hopped up on twitchleaf. Always looking for the next big headline to feed to the media machine.” Tenji replies. “And I have just the thing for that. We need to build our narrative around recent events, and take control of the story that’s being told. To that end, the narrative we’re going to give to the news is not about how many people we lost, but how many lives were saved, and the brave new recruit that helped save them.”

That catches my attention, and I sit up in my chair a bit more. I’m usually quiet during meetings like these, letting the more senior Peacekeepers do the talking, but now it sounds like they’re talking about Kwyn. “Wait. Are you going to…”

“We’re going to valorize Kwyn, yes.” Tenji says, looking to me. “We need a positive spin on this event. People feel good about a hero, and Kwyn’s actions and quick thinking fit the bill perfectly. It serves several purposes: sending a message to the rest of the galaxy about the kind of people we’re recruiting, gives people a hero to look up to, and it will boost morale at the HQ itself when the story runs. We can also allow the news to talk to those that survived the attack on the platform to bolster and reinforce the narrative. Having it come from more sources will give it more legitimacy.”

I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “With respect, Administrator, shouldn’t we ask Kwyn first? It’s… look, I’m proud of her, I really am, but I think she should have a choice on this. Once you become a public figure, you can’t go back. The rest of us in here, we’re used to the media attention; we’re used to having the entire galaxy staring at us. It’s part of the job of being a Peacekeeper. Kwyn, she… that might not be her cup of tea.”

“Your concern is touching, but the needs of the organization surpass the needs of the individual.” Nazka says tersely. “Operative Resquill knew, when she signed on with CURSE, that some level of public exposure was a possibility, as we are a high-visibility organization with involvement across the galaxy. It is true that she likely did not anticipate the level of visibility she is about to be exposed to, but that is not an excuse to shrink from the occasion.”

“Peacekeeper Resquill.” Tenji corrects quietly.

Everyone perks up at that. Nazka’s head twitches sharply to the side, looking down at Tenji, who’s steepled her fingers together. “Pardon, Administrator?”

“You heard me, Nazka.” Tenji replies. “I have been reviewing the footage of the attack, and what we know so far of Kwyn’s abilities and conduct in the field. I think it’s time we make her training official, and reserve a Peacekeeper slot for her.”

“Administrator, she has only been with us for three months—” Nazka begins.

“Do you know how much raw power is required to delay the impact of interstellar transport weighing thousands of tons?” Tenji asks, and though it’s spoken to the rest of table, it seems to be directed to Nazka in particular. “Five, six, seven seconds doesn’t seem like a long time. But when you’re holding interstellar ship in place while it continues to fire its thrusters, it’s a considerable amount of power. It’s more power than most people at this table could hope to produce on their own.” It’s clear from Tenji’s intense gaze that her mind is made up. “We need to harness that power and put it to use in service of protecting the galaxy. Starting today, Kwyn Resquill is a junior Peacekeeper. We will be training her as one of our elites. Though she will remain Axiom’s direct trainee, each of you will have your time training her, as we have done with each of our other Peacekeepers. Impart only your best qualities to her. Now, are there any who object?”

There’s silence around the table. It’s obvious some of the Peacekeepers don’t agree with it, with Gossamer’s snort making her opinion clear. But nobody objects, because if Tenji’s willing to overrule her second-in-command, then there’s not a chance in the twenty-three hells that the rest of us are going to change her mind.

I take a breath. “So, when are we to commence her training?” I ask into the silence.

“It will begin in earnest once we have dealt with the intruder.” Tenji answers. “And it will have to be done on the run. She will have to learn through trial and error, and by experience, because at the moment we cannot afford to spare anyone in our fight against the resurgency. According to SCION’s intelligence-gathering, the survivors of the Bulwark have embarked into the Vorcrueshen Abyss while we were still reeling from the recent attack on the HQ. It is unlikely they are heading there unless there is something of value to be had. As tragic as this attack was, it probably served the dual purposes of both sending a message and being a distraction, forcing us to keep Peacekeepers committed to the HQ to deal with the saboteur so we could not send them after the survivors of the Bulwark. Once we hunt down the intruder, our focus will be full-forward on catching up with the rogue Challengers and finishing the job.” With that, she turns her attention to Nazka and SCION. “Nazka, you will be in charge of arranging Kwyn’s promotion and spinning the narrative we’ll be feeding to the media. SCION, you will put into place our new strategy for capturing our intruder.”

“Understood.” Nazka says with a dip of his head.

“Already working on it.” SCION confirms.

“The rest of you are to follow the orders that SCION will be sending to you.” Tenji says, turning her attention to the rest of us. “Though we are scaling back our approach to one that requires patience, it is no less urgent. This is our home, and I will not tolerate anything that makes our people feel threatened within it.” With a nod to all of us, she stands up. “You are all dismissed.”

Most of the Peacekeepers take that in earnest, and I do the same, standing up. I’m one of the first to filter out the door, but once I’m in the hall, I feel a hand touch to my elbow, and I turn to see Whisper behind me. “Are you going to tell her?” she asks softly.

“I’m not sure I’m allowed to…” I begin.

“You may do so, Axiom.” Both Whisper and myself turn to see Tenji stepping out of the boardroom after all the Peacekeepers have filtered out, raising a hand to comb a lock of hair from her face. “This will be a big change for her. The more time she has to acclimate to it, the better. The moment the press release goes out, the eyes of the galaxy will be on her. I want her to be ready for that, and as her mentor, you are the best person to break that news to her.”

I nod. “Guess I’ll go tell her, then.” I say, starting to move down the hall after the others.

“Axiom.” Tenji says patiently.

I turn sharply, expecting further orders. “Yes, Administrator?”

Tenji gives a soft smile. “It’s almost ten at night.”

“Oh… right.” I say, reaching up to rub my eyes. “Sorry, my body clock is… off. The patrol shifts have been playing havoc on me. I hadn’t realized it was so late on the station’s day-night cycle.”

“You can tell her in the morning.” Whisper says, touching my arm. “C’mon, you need to get some sleep. You’ll run yourself into the ground if you’re not careful.”

“Go get some rest, Axiom.” Tenji says with a dismissing wave. “I’ll tell SCION to ensure you have free time tomorrow to break the news to Kwyn.”

“Right. Thank you, Administrator.” I say, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. With that, I pick up the pace again, Whisper falling in step beside me. As we head down the hall, I catch the grin creeping up on the corners of her mouth. “Alright, out with it.”

“Nothing. Just seems you were pretty eager to go tell her.”

“Oh, hush.”

Intercepted Transmission

CURSE HQ Local Secured Channels

10:28pm SGT

Unidentified Operative: No seriously, I just saw something running down the adjoining hall.

Unidentified Operative 2: You sure, Gander?

Gander: I’m not paid enough to cry wolf, Nanes. Looked like a small Halfie, maybe feline or small canid. Human legs aren’t hinged like that.

Nanes: Well shit me sideways. You said it was a small Halfie? Is there even such a thing?

Gander: It looked small to me. I only saw it for a second and a half and it was moving fast.

Nanes: Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?

Gander: Hell if I know! This is the fourth sweep shift I’ve been on in as many days, and they keep scheduling me for the night cycle. But yeah, unless I’m going crazy, I definitely saw something head down this hall.

Nanes: Better to be safe than sorry. Let’s proceed with safeties off, then. I’ll take point.

Gander: Should we call it in?

Nanes: Let’s hold off on calling it in until both of us can confirm a visual. Let’s put our HUDs on record, though, so we actually have something to back us up if we do end up calling it in.

Gander: What, you don’t believe I saw it?

Nanes: I dunno what you saw, but if either of us do see it again, I’d rather have proof so people will believe us.

Gander: Fine. Recording now.

[roughly thirty seconds of footsteps and background noise]

Nanes: Gander, take a look at this. Are these symbols supposed to be on this door?

Gander: That’s some rune-lookin’ shit right there. Looks like it was burned on, so no, I’m pretty sure that’s not supposed to be there.

Nanes: Right. I’m going to open the door. Cover me.

[sound of door sliding open]

Nanes: Looks like an air filtration room—

Gander: Do you hear that whispering?

Nanes: Wait, there’s something in the hall— d’holy shit!

Gander: Close the door, close the door!

[sound of door sliding closed]

Nanes: Jeez! Did you see those eyes?

Gander: I’m calling it in.

Nanes: It turned and ran! We should at least follow it and keep tabs on where it’s moving to before we lose it again!

Gander: Dude, have you never watched a horror movie?

Nanes: Dude, this is real life. Not a horror movie. We have literally have guns and light power armor.

Gander: Guns and power armor my ass! Rooms like that are where people like us get killed because we get separated from each other and picked off. We are going to be smart. We are not going to have a case of horror movie stupids. We are going to call this in, and then we’re going to go back to somewhere that is well-lighted and full of people, like reasonable people with common sense would do when faced with something that’s already killed a squad of operatives. So turn your ass around and let’s get the hell out of here.

Nanes: You’re such a wuss.

Gander: Yes, but I’m alive, because I’m smarter than trying to reenact tropes from every horror movie in existence. Let’s go. Control, this is Operative Gander. We sighted something down in maintenance in one of the air filtration rooms…

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

CURSE HQ: Convalescence Quarters

1/20/12764 9:56am SGT

“Seriously, I’m fine. They don’t have to keep me; I’ve recovered.”

“I’m sure you do feel fine.” I say, shifting in the chair I’ve got pulled up to Kwyn’s convalescence bed. “But you about gave yourself a stroke trying to stop that transport, and you just got back the ability to talk two days ago. You can see why they want to keep you for observation just a bit longer.”

Kwyn blows out a disgruntled sigh, flopping back on her reclined bed. “I’ve proved I can get up and walk and perform complex tasks. What more do they want?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor. Maybe they’re just being careful.” I say, lacing my fingers together. “But I’d rather them be safe than sorry.”

“I’m not a piece of glass; I’m not gonna shatter if I fall over.” Kwyn grumbles. “It’s just so boring in here. And nobody will tell me anything about the intruder or how the search is going.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to tell yet.” I say. “We’ve had sightings, and a squad of operatives have turned up dead, but we haven’t been able to capture the intruder yet. The Peacekeepers met with the administration yesterday, however, and we’re going to change up our strategy. Instead of throwing more people at the problem, we’re going to relax our security posture to try and lure out the intruder.”

“Are you sure that’ll work?” Kwyn asks, looking concerned as she leans forward. “Taking a passive route when there’s an enemy in your base seems dangerous…”

“We’ve gotta try something.” I shrug. “The HQ’s massive, and we’ve been searching for days without being able to catch them. The old strategy isn’t working, so we need to try something new.”

“Yeah. Guess so.” she concedes, looking to the doorway, then back to me. “Doesn’t that mean you should be out there, then? Kent said that you hadn’t visited over the last few days because the Peacekeepers were busy leading the security response.”

“About that, actually.” I say, bumping my knuckles together as I brace myself to break the news to Kwyn. “The administration gave me some free time so I could break the news to you.”

“What news?” I can already see the worry starting to cloud her brow.

“They’re promoting you to a junior Peacekeeper role.” I say, giving a moment to let that settle in before going on. “Once we’ve dealt with this… security crisis on the HQ, your training as a Peacekeeper is to begin in earnest.”

Kwyn just stares at me, her mouth hanging slightly open.

I give an awkward half-smile, half-grimace. “So, uh. How do you feel about that?”

“Oh my god, you’re not joking.” she says after a moment. “They’re… promoting me? To Peacekeeper?”

“Well, junior Peacekeeper.” I correct her. “It’s like Peacekeeper-in-training.”

“Holy hell.” she says, leaning back on her bed. “That’s… you didn’t arrange this, did you?”

“I didn’t, actually.” I say frankly. “I knew you wouldn’t be comfortable with it, and I told them that you might not be ready for the media attention that would come along with it. But the Administrator recognizes that you have immense power and incredible potential. She wants to give you a chance to grow into it, and give you a chance to stand alongside the best and make a difference in the galaxy. And with what happened on the platform, you’ve proved you can do that.”

“I mean, I was just doing what anyone else would’ve done—” Kwyn starts, already trying to defend herself with modesty.

“No, you didn’t do what anyone else would’ve done, because what you did almost killed you.” I say before she can finish. “Even if other people could do what you are capable of, not everyone would’ve taken that risk. But you did, and you did it for the sake of trying to save lives. That’s what sets you apart. That’s why you deserve this promotion.”

“But… but I’ve only been an operative for three months!” she protests.

“True.” I agree. “But exceptions are made for exceptional people.”

She sits dumbfounded for a moment. “This is… I don’t deserve this.”

I shrug. “Other people disagree. But if you feel that you don’t deserve it, then after you get back on your feet, work towards earning it. Because you’ve got it now.”

Her teeth tug at her bottom lip, a little show of nervousness. An anxious tic. “Alright then. Will I still be training with you?”

“I will remain your primary trainer, yes.” I confirm. “But you’ll be doing stints with other Peacekeepers as well. It’s important to see the way other Peacekeepers do things — there are things that they can teach you better than I can, different perspectives they can offer. That’s how it works when we train a new Peacekeeper — they get a little bit of time with each of the other active Peacekeepers.”

“Okay.” she says, raising her knees beneath the covers so she can rest her arms on them. “Does this mean I can be discharged early…?”

I smile. “Not until the doctors give the greenlight. Nice try, though.”

She pouts. “Doing me more harm languishing here than it would be if I was out and active.” she mutters.

“The promotion’s not the only thing I needed to talk to you about.” I go on. “The administration is shaping the narrative around the sabotage, and you’re going to be a part of it. This is going to mean media exposure — your name’s going to be out in the public, and you might be taking interviews. The administration doesn’t want this to be a story about how CURSE was caught off guard by a terrorist attack — they want it to be a story about how people rose to the occasion to mitigate damage and save lives during an unexpected crisis. And you’re the poster child for that.”

She goes back to biting her lip upon hearing that. “This is a lot, Dare.” she says, and the uncertainty in her voice is clear. “I mean, I’ll try, but… I’ve never really been on the news before, and… it’s just a lot.”

“I know.” I say gently. “It’s okay. You won’t be going into it blind. The Personnel Resources and Public Relations departments are always involved in anything that involves Peacekeepers talking to the media. They’ll brief you on what to expect, what news outlet you’ll be talking to, a preview of the questions they’re going to ask, and how you’re allowed to answer them. And during interviews, Public Relations always makes sure there’s a handler present to keep you in the lane if you’re straying out of it, or keeping the interviewer from going outside the boundaries of the interview. It’s always a very controlled process, and you’ll only get a surprise question here and there.”

Kwyn puffs out a breath. “Okay then. When’s that going to be?”

“I don’t know.” I say, shaking my head. “Public Relations will be getting in touch with you ahead of time, usually one or two days before, so they can start planning out the settings and conditions of the interview. But you’ll have advance notice. They’re not just gonna pop it on you out of nowhere.”

“Alright. I suppose it’s better than sitting around waiting for the doctors to release me.” she says, looking around the room. “How are you doing? I suppose they’ve been running you pretty hard over the last few—”

The sound of knocking on the doorway interrupts her, and we both look up and around to see that there’s an operative in light power armor standing there. “Peacekeeper, you’re needed. It’s in regards to the saboteur. Nazka has ordered the Peacekeepers that are on standby to convene in the boardroom.”

“Understood. I’ll be there shortly.” I say. Once he turns and leaves, I look back to Kwyn, placing a hand on hers. “I’ll see if I can put in a word with the doctors to get you out of here faster. If they won’t budge, I’ll see if they’ll allow you to roam to get some exercise, or at least give you something to do so you aren’t bored out of your mind.” With that, I stand up. “Looking forward to having you back on active duty, junior Peacekeeper.”

She snorts at bit at that. “Just call me Junior, how’s that? Better than rookie, at least.”

“Junior it is, then.” I chuckle, moving the chair back beside the wall and heading for the doorway. “Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone, Junior.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.” Kwyn says. “Be careful out there, Dare.”

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

CURSE HQ: Boardroom

10:26am SGT

“So good of you to join us, Axiom.”

I know I should’ve expected Nazka’s dry tone upon arriving to the boardroom. As the door slides shut behind me, I can see that Gossamer, Whisper, Ironfist, and Headache are all here; the other Peacekeepers are presumably on shift right now. “Apologies for being late. I was bringing Resquill up to speed on her promotion and the fact that she’ll be part of how we spin the narrative around the attack.”

“How’s she doing?” Whisper asks.

“She’s doing fine.” I say, pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down. “Restless. You know how it goes with recruits that young; they just bounce right back after getting knocked down.”

“Says the one who’s little more than a few years older than her.” Ironfist chuckles.

“Look, five years can be a big difference for humans.” I mutter as I settle into my chair.

“You treat her as if she’s younger than she actually is. Or as if you’re older than you really are.” Ironfist observes. “It seems to me that you’re trying to create some sort of artificial distance between the two of you.”

“Oh?” Gossamer says, leaning forward in her chair to peer at me. “You don’t say.”

“While the incisive commentary on Axiom’s subconscious behavior is doubtless fascinating, I would ask that we return focus to the matter at hand.” Nazka says tersely. “We have an abundance of new information available to us, which comprises the autopsies of the dead operatives and footage from a recent encounter with the intruder. The autopsies can be accessed on the table before you; you will observe a certain commonality in the manner of death for each one.”

“These scorch marks are consistent with plasma weapons. Bladed.” Ironfist says, his large fingers skimming through the digital file on the glass surface before him. “Scorched wounds, cauterized even as the cut is made.”

“Yes, but these don’t fit any common weapon profile I’m familiar with.” Gossamer says as she thumbs through the autopsies. “Most of them occur in sets of four. They look almost like raking claw marks.”

“So we’re looking for something that’s got plasma claws?” Whisper asks, scratching an ear. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen something like that before.”

“Bear in mind that we are dealing with a Maskling.” Nazka reminds us. “They are hybrids, chimaeras. It’s possible that we may be up against something we have never seen before, because this Maskling may have synthesized its previous Maskbearers into something that does not exist. Something that could not exist naturally.”

“You said there was also footage from a recent encounter with the creature. Can we see that?” I ask, looking up from the autopsy reports in front of Whisper.

Nazka makes a lifting motion with one hand, and a double-sided screen rises up out of the table. At another wave from him, it begins playing; we watch from the perspective of an operative as they trek down a dim hall with their assigned shift companion, then stop at a door that has a circle of Maskling runes burned into it. After some chatting, they badge it open; in the halflight, you can make out air filtration machinery in the room. Between two of the machines, something in a hooded cloak turns around; there’s a flash of glowing eyes within the shadow of the hood, and the door swiftly closes as one of the operatives panics.

“Wait!” Headache says suddenly, leaning forward in her chair. “Can we play that back again?”

“You may do so.” Nazka permits.

Headache stands out of her chair, reaching forward and dragging the cursor on the video’s timeline back to the moment the door opens, watching it play through again. Then she does it again, and again, eyes locked onto the screen with an unusual focus.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t look too big.” Gossamer remarks.

“Doesn’t look human, either.” I say, watching as Headache lets the video play through again. “Looks like there’s animal ears poking through the hood, and I think you can see a tail when it turns around.”

“Is it something you recognize, Headache?” Ironfist asks as Headache pauses the video and drags the timestamp back to the frame where the creature turns around.

Headache drags a hand across her mouth as she sits back in her chair. “Yeah.” she says quietly. “It’s a Viralix.”

“Wait, wasn’t the intruder supposed to be a Maskling?” Whisper points out.

“Well, yes. What I mean is that it’s a Maskling that’s using a Viralix form that they probably Masked at some point in the past.” Headache says, waving a hand.

“Well, that’s an interesting theory—” Nazka begins.

“It’s more than just a theory.” Headache interrupts him. “The way the squad of operatives died is textbook Viralix. Every single Viralix is a psion, and the way they fight in close quarters is by coating their claws in sheaths of psionic energy. It chars and cinders wounds even as they’re inflicted, leaving behind the black raking marks you see in the autopsy photos. And then there’s this.” Reaching forward, she pulls back the timestamp on the video so that it play through again.

“Looks like an air filtration room—”

“Do you hear that whispering?”

“Wait, there’s something in the hall— d’holy shit!”

“Close the door, close the door!”

Headache reaches forward again, pausing the video at that point. “Did any of you hear the whispering?” she asks.

I look at Whisper, who shrugs. “I’ve got good hearing, but didn’t catch anything besides a couple of idiots panicking.” she says.

“Pretty much what she said.” Gossamer agrees.

“Exactly.” Headache says. “None of you heard anything. But they heard something. What they heard were probably psi echoes. The suits aren’t engineered to pick that up when they’re recording because it would requiring stuffing more sensors into the helm, which is expensive and it’s not a feature that would be used often.”

“It seems to me that you should be the one taking point on this, Headache.” Nazka observes with his typical dryness. “Given that this appears to be your area of expertise.”

“Well yeah, it kinda is, since I’m the resident psion.” Headache says, sitting back. “I’m familiar with the Viralix, but when you mix it with Masklings… I dunno. It might have some tricks up its sleeve even I’m not familiar with.”

“Should we consider preparing countermeasures?” Ironfist asks. “Psions are known for mind foolery. I would rather not end up fighting our own people if this thing manages to get inside someone’s head and control or deceive them.”

“We have equipment for that; we can pull it out of storage.” Headache says. “It has its drawbacks, but if we deploy it carefully, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Given your experience on this topic, I give you leave to take charge of the required preparations, Headache.” Nazka says. “Should you require certain resources or have a tactical recommendation to implement, let SCION know and he will see to it. Unfortunately I must excuse myself at this point, as there is a meeting I must attend with my Vaunted counterpart, but I trust you will bring your fellow Peacekeepers up to speed on the Viralix, and what our intruder may be capable of.”

“I’ll see to it.” Headache promises as Nazka makes his way down one side of the table and to the door. As it closes behind him, Headache stands up and looks down the table at the rest of us. “Right. Who’s ready to learn about cute little psi foxes?”

“So long as whatever we’re learning keeps us from getting mauled like that.” I say, motioning to the autopsy files still on the desk in front of Whisper.

“ ‘Cute’?” Gossamer repeats with the raised eyebrow.

“Viralix are three things: small, fluffy, and vicious.” Headache says, listing off the qualities on her fingers before she brings up a search window on her portion of the boardroom table and starts typing. “They know they are disadvantaged in a physical fight with most other galactic races. They make up for it by leaning heavily on their psionic capabilities and by being absolutely ruthless in combat. When they fight, they fight to kill, and they don’t fight fair. I don’t know much about Masklings, but I think at least some of that mindset would’ve passed to any Maskling that possessed a Viralix.”

“Okay, so really there’s no cute involved. They’re just flat-out dangerous.” I say.

“You’d think.” Headache says, still typing away at the table. “But when you see ‘em, they look so darn adorable you just want pick them up and hug them and pet their ears. Not a good idea, by the way. The ear-petting, that is. That’s a quick ticket to getting your hand bitten.”

“And you would know from experience?” Ironfist asks.

“Stories for another time.” Headache says, making a flicking motion across the table. The file she’s pulled up multiplies, copies sliding across the glass to the rest of us. “This is CURSE’s primer on Viralix tactics, both common and uncommon. We’ll be focusing on the Reynar section, since that’s what I suspect our intruder is.”

“This primer is sixty pages long.” Gossamer says, opening the file and glaring at Headache.

“And you only have to read forty pages of it, so let’s get to work.” Headache says, clapping her hands twice. “I expect all of you to be read up by tomorrow, and I’ll send the primer to the Peacekeepers currently on shift so they can do the same. I’m going to go see about requisitioning interference collars from SCION, and we’ll convene here tomorrow so I can show you all how they work. Let’s hop to.”

With that, Headache heads for the door, leaving the rest of us to download the file. Tapping my bracelet to the screen, I wait for the loading bar to finish, then look over to see that Whisper’s done the same. “Looks like we’ve got some studying to do.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Whisper says, pushing back from the table and standing up. “Wanna go get lunch and we can start reading while we’re eating?”

“Works for me.”

Dan Splainsworthy’s Encyclopedia of Sentient Galactic Species

Viralix

Though they are technically considered vulpine Halfies, and are in fact descended from Halfie lineages, the Viralix are vastly different from their Halfie brethren. These differences are sizable enough for the Viralix are classified as their own race, genetically distinct from other vulpine Halfies on the evolutionary tree. This genetic distance is also reflected in the societal distance that exists between the Viralix and other races in Myrrdicato, as they are one of the only two major psychic societies in the galaxy.

In physical terms, the Viralix are easily distinct from their Halfie cousins due to their height and build. The average Viralix is around 5’3—5’6 if one is counting in their ears, while the average vulpine Halfie is usually 5’10–6’4. This has sometimes resulted in adult Viralix being mistaken as Halfie juveniles due to the height differences. Most Viralix are possessed of a lean build, lacking the muscle mass typically observed in canid Halfies. As a result of their size, Viralix infrastructure has been observed to be slightly smaller and more claustrophobic to taller species.

Beyond their physical stature, the defining trait of the Viralix is that each and every member of their race is a psion; that is to say they passively generate an excess of psychic energy which can be used to mentally communicate with each other, or harnessed as a weapon or as a defense. It is presumed that this, and their physical size, are a result of their generations-long isolation in the caves of Barbastella roughly a billion years ago; their separation from standard Halfie communities resulted in divergent evolution that was better suited for surviving their environment at the time.

In the modern era, the Viralix are a highly territorial species that has developed a society that revolves entirely around their psionic heritage. The extent to which psionics defines their society cannot be understated: it is their first and foremost method of communication, and it is how generational knowledge is passed down. Nearly all Viralix weapons are psi-based in nature or function; their technology relies on it to such an extent that Viralix technology is considered effectively inoperable by non-psions. From tradition to technology, Viralix society is dominated and defined by this single genetic trait.

Though the Viralix are not considered a hivemind, their inherent connection to other members of their species has shaped the formation of their culture and society. The Viralix enjoy a much higher unity quotient than other races due to their increased empathy and ability to feel the emotions of other Viralix in their communities. The importance of certain topics and issues is felt rather than verbally conveyed; Viralix do not have to lean on words or language as imperfect communicators of their intent. When one Viralix experiences an intense emotion, they do not have to state it verbally; nearby Viralix will feel it, and though they may not understand the cause, the emotion itself has validity. This empathy has the effect of increasing solidarity among the Viralix, especially where it regards their responses to external threats.

The Viralix’s relationship with the other major races and nations of the galaxy has typically been a fraught one, on account of the prejudice and hostility against psions, which is present in several societies. Their territorial tendencies are assumed to spring from a history of being driven from worlds they have peacefully settled; as a result, the Viralix Empire largely encompasses dark space systems, with only a few of their systems falling within the borders of open space. Any unauthorized intrusion into their territory typically earns a disproportionate response from the Viralix interstellar fleet; in a best-case scenario, the intruders are escorted back out of Viralix space with a warning. In many other cases, the intruders simply disappear, and are never heard from again.

A more thorough breakdown of Viralix society and galactic interactions can be found further on in this entry, along with a more detailed history of their race. Due to the highly complex nature of the Viralix as a species, it is impossible to fully explore the topic in an encyclopedia entry such as this, and supplemental reading is recommended in the form of Dan Splainsworthy’s Primer on the Viralix Empire: A Condensed History And Examination Of The Nation of Vulpine Psions.

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

CURSE HQ: Kent’s Lab

1/21/12764 7:33am SGT

“Yer killin’ me, Dare.” Kent mumbles into his coffee cup as the door to his lab opens, and we step in. “This couldn’t have waited another hour or so?”

“Blame SCION. He’s the one that assigned me this shift.” I say, stepping in after him. “I’d rather not be in a plugsuit at seven in the morning, but here we are.”

“Be glad when all this shit’s finally over.” he grumbles as the door slides shut behind us. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s sad that people got killed and all, but shit man, I’m ready to get back to things being normal.” Heading across the room to where the Axiom’s suit locker is, presses his hand to the pad, waiting for it to read his print and cross-check it with his bracelet.

“We’re working on it. Once the intruder is captured or killed, we can probably relax our security posture further, though it won’t quite go back to what it was before.” I assure him as the locker splits down the middle and starts to open.

“Hope so. Been missin’ my nights at Gritter’s.” he says, sipping from his coffee. “So, I s’ppose y’all figured out what your intruder is, since you’re asking me if we could install psi shielding on your suit’s helm?”

“We have a pretty good idea, yeah.” I answer as the suit is pushed out of the locker, the loading arms unfolding on either side of it.

“Well, lucky you, we don’t need to install it, because it’s already installed.” Kent says, setting down his mug on the table behind him before he takes the loading arm with the diagnostics screen and starts tapping through it. “Challenger engineers thought ‘bout damn near everything when they originally designed this suit. It’s already got a psi shield installed; it’s just a matter of activating it. I can’t account for the quality of the shield since the tech’s at least fifteen years old by this point, but Challenger tech was usually decades ahead of its time, so you should be fine.”

“Wait, this thing’s had psi shield capability this entire time?” I demand.

“Yeah, we left it deactivated because there’d never been a need for it before now.” Kent answers, typing away at the screen. “It was a practical measure. The psi shield runs off the suit’s battery, so leaving it deactivated helped extend the suit’s maximum operation time. I’m gonna reinstate operator permissions for toggling the psi shield on and off, so you can turn on the psi shield whenever you like. Just, y’know. Remember to turn it off when you don’t need it. Otherwise it’ll just keep runnin’ in the background, draining your suit’s battery.”

“So what else can the Axiom suit do that you haven’t told me about?” I ask, folding my arms.

“Ask me that question again after the caffeine’s started to kick in.” Kent says, turning around and picking up his mug again. “Settings are syncing up and should be done in a minute. You can start getting into your metal coffin after that.”

“Charming.” I say, stepping up in front of the suit and studying the pilot cavity. “Hey, do you know when I’m due for my next BIOS injection?”

“Might be coming up here soon.” Kent says, leaning back against the table with his mug held close to his chest and his head hung over it. “Have you noticed a delay in the suit’s response time?”

“Not yet. I was just wondering; feels like it’s been a while since my last set.” I say as the loading icon on the diagnostics screen clears away. “Figured I’d ask, just to check.”

“I’ll see if I can pull your medical profile and check. I think you’re on the biannual injection schedule.” Kent says as I turn around and step backwards into the Axiom suit, locking my feet into the boots and sliding my arms into the guide sheathes so the suit can start folding shut around me. Once the helm folds around my head, the view is limited to my orange visor until the suit boots up properly, and my HUD comes online, the external cams constructing a dynamic view of my surroundings on the interior of my helm. I take a moment to navigate through the suit’s menu, finding the new option to toggle the psi shielding, and set it as a voice command.

“You’re not taking a nap in there, are you?” Kent says, rapping the side of my helm.

I free one arm from the locker scaffolding, waving him off as I order the helm to fold back from my head. “Yeah, yeah. I was just setting the voice command for the psi shielding. Don’t rush me.” Stepping out of the locker, I reach back and grab my battleaxe, swinging it over my head to lock it into the magnetic housing on the suit’s backplate. “Right. I better get goin’; this intruder isn’t going to catch themselves.”

“One could always hope.” Kent says, stepping back. “Hey, how’s the recruit doin’? I haven’t had the chance to see her recently because. Y’know, lockdown an’ all that.”

“She’s doing fine. Itching to get back into action.” I say, walking around him. I don’t feel the need to tell him about Kwyn’s promotion; it’s technically classified, and besides, he’ll probably find out soon enough. “The doctors have been keeping her for observation, but they’ll probably let her out sometime in the next couple of days.”

“That’s good to hear. I was a little worried.” he says, following me to the lab door. “You won’t catch me admitting it around her, but… she’s a good kid. It’d be a real shame if we lost her.”

“You don’t say.” I say, pausing at the door and glancing down at him. “Y’know, if you were that sentimental with your flings, you might actually melt someone’s heart enough to get them going steady with you.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t do it.” Kent mutters. “Relationships are work, dude, and work is the last thing I need more of.”

I shrug the shoulders of my suit. “Never know if you like it until you give it a try.”

“I have given it a try, and I’ll tell you right now that relationships ain’t the happily-ever-after promised lands that the holos make it out to be.” Kent says, sipping from his coffee. “I am perfectly happy with my one and done modus operandi.”

I give another shrug as the door opens. “Who knows. You might be missing out.”

“Run and gun, if you will.”

“Alright, I get it.”

“Pump and jump.”

“Kent, I get it.”

“Shake and bake.”

“That one doesn’t even make sense.”

“Lust and bust.”

“Oh, for the love of…”

“Hit and run.”

“KENT.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. Hey, I was wondering — plugsuits are skintight, right? Do you ever get a wedgie after you get in the Axiom suit? I figure you can’t pick a wedgie while you’re stuck in power armor.”

“…I’m not going to acknowledge that. Enjoy your coffee, Kent.”

The News

“Hallo all, and welcome back to Good Morning Myrrdicato, your first, last, and only source for galactic news in the morning! Earlier today, our correspondent at the CURSE HQ was given the privilege of interviewing one of the survivors of the attack that recently took place at the headquarters. Now, we bring you the beginning of that interview with the newest hero at CURSE.”

[transition wipe]

“Hello! Operative Resquill, is it?”

“Yes, that’s me. You can call me Kwyn.”

“Kwyn! It’s an honor to meet you. My name is Shina Sothsby; I’m a correspondent for the Myrrdicato News Network.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you on TV before.”

“Perfect, so you know who I am! But I’m actually here about you today. As I understand it, you’re one of the heroes that emerged from the events of January 15th.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t call myself a hero…”

“You wouldn’t, but others have, and footage from the attack seems to agree. Right before the transport collision, you can be seen summoning a giant wolf to get between the transport and the platform, keeping it from slamming into the platform for several seconds, and giving others on the platform more time to evacuate.”

“Yeah, I guess I did do that. I was just doing what any other person would’ve done, though. And it wasn’t just me; my trainer was there too, and he was the one helping others out while I tried to slow down the transport. In fact, he’s the one that picked me up and got me to safety after I collapsed, if you watch the rest of the footage.”

“Is that so? Sounds like we should be interviewing him too! Perhaps we can go talk to him after this?”

“Uh… probably not, he’s a Peacekeeper, so he’s kinda busy, especially right now…”

“You don’t say! You’re being personally trained by a Peacekeeper? Clearly you have a lot of potential, and you’ve already proved it so far! Which one are you training with?”

“Oh shoot. I don’t think I should’ve said that…”

[off to the side] “You can tell them.”

“Oh, I can? Alright then. I’ve been training with Axiom.”

“The Axiom? Now that’s something else. Can we get an interview with Axiom after this? No? No. Well, that’s okay. Like she said, I imagine he’s a pretty busy fellow. Well, that brings us back to you, Kwyn. Can you tell us what was going through your mind when you realized that the transport was going to hit the platform?”

“Honestly, I didn’t even really think. I saw it coming, I realized that people on the far end of the platform weren’t going to get to the doors in time, and I just did what I could to buy them more time. You don’t really get time to think in a situation like that; you just take action, because you can’t afford to lose even a single second.”

“Of course, that makes sense. I think it’s incredible that you didn’t find yourself paralyzed by fear — I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done in that situation. Now, from what I hear, you’ve only been a CURSE operative for three months?…”

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

CURSE HQ: Security Post, CURSE Docks

1/22/12764 4:37pm SGT

“You still awake over there?” I mumble.

“Yeah, I’m awake.” Whisper mumbles back.

“You don’t look like you’re awake.” I mutter without opening my eyes.

“Neither do you.” she retorts.

We’re both slumped in one of the docks’ security posts, surrounded by screens that have camera feeds from across the docks. The room is a little cramped, especially since I’m in my power armor; I have to sit on the floor, since none of the chairs will take the weight of my suit. Whisper is sprawled out on the floor across from me, and both of us are bored out of our minds after four and a half hours of staking out the docks.

“I’m still awake. For now.” I say.

“Same here.” Whisper yawns. “I’m not so sure this ‘wait for the intruder to step into our trap’ idea was such a great idea. No offense to the Administrator.”

“It’s only been two days. We gotta be patient since we’re playing the waiting game.”

“What if a week goes by and it still hasn’t worked?”

“Then at that point, we’ll reassess and come up with a new strategy.” I say, opening my eyes. “But I trust the Administrator. I think her plan will work.”

Whisper blows a raspberry. “What does she know? She’s a whitecollar. She’s not on the ground like we are, on the front lines. She just leads from behind the desk.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s got some combat experience.” I say, tracing one of the seams between the plates of my power armor. “You think Nazka would really take orders from someone that he didn’t respect?”

“I don’t think much about what Nazka would do because Nazka never does anything fun.” Whisper say, picking at the ends of her short hair. “They’re all the same up at the top. Whether it’s CURSE or another organization or even other nations. Especially other nations. The people at the top make the decisions and the people at the bottom are the ones that pay for it.”

“Well… that doesn’t feel fair to Tenji.” I say, tapping one of the orange accent lights on my armor. “It feels like she actually cares about her people. She knew about me and Roya, and gave me some advice on it.”

“Really?” Whisper says, raising an eyebrow and glancing at me. “Color me surprised.”

“Yeah, me too.” I say. “But Tenji does care, I think. More than Nazka, at least.”

“Well, we can agree on that.” Whisper says, reaching up to tug at the metal collar around her neck. “Guh. I can’t believe I have to wear this thing whenever I’m on duty now.”

“Looks pretty heavy.” I remark. “That’s the interference collar, right?”

“Yeah. Apparently it breaks up psi fields and makes it hard for psions to use their powers around you.” Whisper explains. “Problem is, if you turn it on, you’re basically screaming out your location to any psion on the station. Any interference field strong enough to disrupt their powers is something they can sense a mile away, and they’ll usually try to avoid it if they can. At least according to Headache.”

“Huh. I wonder if my suit does the same.” I say, looking down. “Kent said there was some psi shielding integrated into the helm. It had been deactivated to reduce drain on the suit’s battery.”

“I think that’s different. Shielding is passive; disruption is active.” Whisper says, rolling on her side to face me. “Yours probably just gives you extra protection from mental manipulation, while the collars will straight-up nix any psi abilities they have.”

“Guess we’ll find out if the intruder decides to stop lurking around on the maintenance floor.” I say, leaning my head back against the wall behind me. “Sometime this week would be nice. I’m bored out of my mind.”

“Yeah. Should’ve brought some cards, or something.” Whisper agrees. “You think anyone would notice if I busted out my phone?”

“Nobody would notice but SCION, probably.” I reply. “If he catches you surfing the net, he’ll probably shut down your access and tell you to get back to work.”

“Would he really, though?” Whisper says, starting to dig in her jacket for her phone. “He’s got more important things to be doing, like monitoring the HQ or doing security assessments on systems across the galaxy. He’s not going to zero in on a single person surfing the net on their phone. I know angelnets like to micromanage, but that’s just ridiculous.”

I shrug. “They’re also really good at multitasking, but hey, if you feel confident about your chances, go for it.”

“Ten credits says he won’t notice.” Whisper says, pulling her phone out and unlocking the screen.

“Sure, I’ll take you up on that. It’s pocket change for me anyway. And it’s not like ten credits can get you much in this economy.”

“It’s enough to get me another skin in Rant Legends.”

“You and your cosmetic skins. How much have you dropped on those at this point?”

“Money is fleeting. Being able to flex on your enemies is eternal.”

“So you’ve spent a lot.”

“Did you know they’ve got a mobile version of Rant Legends now? So you’re not tied to a console anymore—”

A high-pitched beeping interrupts both of us, sending Whisper spinning on the floor while I scramble to try and stand up. It’s coming from the security post’s console; staggering a few steps, I lean over the chair at the same time that Whisper gets up. “Goddamn, that gave me a heart attack. That’s the psi sensor going off, right?”

“Yeah, it looks like it was triggered in one of the halls we left unguarded leading to the docks. Operatives are already responding to block it off.” I say, turning and yanking the door of the security post open. “Let’s go!”

Ducking out of the security post, I take off down the hall, the sound of my power armor drowning out the sound of Whisper behind me — assuming she’s even making any noise. As I turn the corner and start hurtling down the stairs, I call over my shoulder at her. “They can’t leave the corridor. If the intruder gets onto the docks, it’s going to be a hell of a lot harder to contain them. I’ll take the doorway that leads onto the docks; can you cut off the other end of the corridor?”

“On it.” is her short and sharp response as her cloaking starts to go active. She disappears in a shimmer of hexagonal panels as I hit the bottom of the stairs and go sprinting across the docks, headed for the doorway that other operatives are converging on.

“Helm, engage.” I order as I reach back and pull my battleaxe off my back. By the time I arrive, my helm’s fully deployed and locked in place around my head, the psi shielding active. Operatives have taken up positions at the edges of the door, their plasma rifles out and powered on. “Go ahead and open it, but keep guard at the doorway. If it gets past me and charges the threshold, open fire. Are we clear?”

The operatives nod, and I take my battleaxe in both hands, twisting the handle and locking it into place. At the end of the shaft, the slats flick out as the antigrav hammer comes online. “Good. Open the door.” I order.

The operative nearest the access pad swipes their bracelet over it, and the doors slide open. I’m marching through them the moment they do, my battleaxe up and held across my front; and in the hall, a small, cloaked and hooded figure skitters to a halt, backing up several steps when it sees me barreling through the doors. I can recognize it as the thing that was caught on the recording made by the operatives on the maintenance floor a couple of days earlier; I can see the dark grey fur peeking through the cloak, the digitigrade legs and paws that it’s standing on, and most of all, the intense, neon blue glow of its irises.

“Stop where you are and surrender.” I order through my suit’s speakers. “You are under arrest. Remove your cloak, and place your hands in the air.”

The vulpine ears poking through the gaps in the hood flatten backwards, and there’s a flash of blue light beneath the cloak as something’s ignited. Beneath the hood, I can see the intruder’s short muzzle pull back to bare teeth.

“Fine then. You want to do things the hard way, we’ll do things the hard way.” I say, lifting my axe and continuing my forward march.

I was kinda hoping that a guy in power armor bearing down on his cloaked ass would scare him into submission, but he doesn’t fold. Instead he leans forward and goes low, sprinting down the hall towards me, veering hard to the right, then cutting left at the last possible second. I catch myself midswing and instead twist to follow him as he kicks off the wall, launching himself at me; I shove the haft of my axe out, blocking him midair as he swipes at me, his claws covered in wicked, razor-blue light and missing my visor by a mere inch. Pushing off my axe’s shaft and falling to the ground on all fours, he goes for my legs next, prompting me to skip backwards; he still manages to rake a decent set of gashes in my left shinplate, and I react the way any reasonable person would when there’s a little fox with razor-sharp psi-claws coming for their kneecaps.

I wind up with my right leg and kick him clear down the hall.

The thump is audible, and the intruder goes sliding back down the hall on their side, clearly winded. I almost feel sorry for kicking something that’s only a little over five and a half feet tall and a hundred pounds, if that; it feels akin to punting a particularly scrawny teenager. But then I remember that he’s responsible for a lot of dead civilian staff, and my sympathy evaporates. I may as well press the advantage while I have it, so I start marching down the hall again, taking the ground he’s lost, intent on making sure his path to the docks only grows longer.

He’s quick to get back up, but before I can properly close on him, there’s a couple of flashes down at the other end of the hall. Two icy-blue plasma bolts race down the hall, but don’t quite reach him; a shield briefly flares around him, blocking both shots with a shower of sparks. It startles him enough to turn and back against the wall, so he can keep an eye on both ends of the corridor; there’s obviously nothing visible on the other end, since Whisper is still cloaked. I keep up the pressure, still bearing down on him.

“I’ll repeat it again: surrender.” I order, taking advantage of his new uncertainty. “You will not be harmed in incarceration.”

He looks back at me, teeth bared, and I hear the faint whispers in my head half a second before his mouth opens and the words come out. Beneath the cloak, I can see blue light start to flicker and flare erratically, almost like electricity. “Your belief in a lie will not make it true.”

If nothing else, that makes it clear he’s not coming quietly.

With my mind made up, I start to shift into a proper charge, intending to run him down and hopefully end this quickly. He throws his hand out of his cloak before I can reach him, and what appears to be erratic blue lightning is crackling around his furred fingers; in the next instant, there’s an impact against the side of my suit and a blinding shower of sparks as I’m struck with an arc of that energy. It’s enough to make me stagger as my HUD flickers, but I keep going, swinging my axe for his chest as I reach him. He’s quick to drop to the floor, the axe passing over his head and denting the wall behind him, but I immediately follow up with swinging the end of the shaft at him. The antigrav hammer catches him dead on, lifting and flinging him into the air, where he slams into the ceiling, then drops to the floor with an audible grunt.

And if that wasn’t enough, the moment he tries to get up, he finds himself slammed back to the ground by the unseen force that is Whisper pouncing on him.

“Hold him down, Whisper, we want to take him in alive if we can.” I say as I arrive, then call back over my shoulder to the operatives at the doorway to the docks. “Get down here, we need some cuffs!”

“I’m tryin’, Axe, but he’s doing something!” Whisper shouts.

I look around, and through the slightly distorted space where Whisper is, I can see the intruder is thrashing and struggling as she keeps him pinned out. Arcs of blue energy are running across his body, and his fur, where I can see it, is starting to stand on end. Twisting the handle of my axe, I turn off the antigrav hammer and ignite the plasma blades on the other end, but nothing can prepare me for what comes next.

The little dude just straight up explodes.

I suppose a better description would be a pulse, but the point is that he lets off a massive surge of energy. Since Whisper’s on top of him, she takes the brunt of it, and it blasts her straight up into the air, disabling her cloaking and slamming her against the ceiling. The rest of it travels down both ends of the hall, killing the lights, then hitting me and knocking me flat on my back, as well as the pair of the operatives that had been coming with the cuffs. Whisper falls back to the floor as I struggle to sit upright, with warnings flashing across my HUD about overloaded electrical systems.

And as I’m trying to get back up, the intruder rolls back to his feet, those blue claws flaring to life as he locks onto Whisper.

“Whisper!” I shout, scrambling for my axe.

Whisper rolls over with a groan, then sees the intruder igniting his claws again. Reaching up, she fumbles with the collar around her neck, turning it on as he lunges at her; it stops him dead in the hall, letting out a vulpine scream as his psi claws fizzle out and he recoils, clutching his head. As he staggers back, his shield decaying around him in little patches, Whisper lifts one arm and fires her wrist pistol with reckless abandon. Most of the shots break through his shield, burning holes in his cloak and throwing him back against the wall. By the time her pistol’s run dry, I’ve managed to grab my axe, get back to my feet, and as he staggers away from the wall, I wind up for a broad slash while he’s exposed.

He looks up just in time for it to catch him dead-on.

It leaves a cauterized gash across his chest, scorching through fur, muscle, and bone, and throws him over Whisper and clear down the hall. The way he hits the ground is almost pitiful, like a burned, discarded doll. Since he doesn’t get up right away, I go to Whisper first, kneeling down beside her and checking her over. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” she grunts, pushing to her knees. “Got a hell of a headache and I’m gonna need to see a chiropractor after getting thrown into the ceiling like that. My cloaking chip seems like it’s been blown too.”

“Same here, my suit’s lost some of its sensor and comms arrays after that pulse.” I say, helping her up. The sound of movement draws our attention down the hall; the intruder is rolling over, and an orbit of runes forms around his wrist, transferring onto the floor as he presses his pawhand against it.

“What is he doing?” Whisper murmurs, starting to lift her other hand so she can point her wrist pistol at him.

“I dunno, but even if he’s not in great shape, I’m not going to take chances.” I say, starting to stand. As I start marching down the hall towards him, he removes his hand from the circle of runes, then grabs his face… and starts pulling.

The screaming that ensues has me pulling up short, recoiling within my suit as I watch in horror. The intruder’s face starts to peel away from their head, and it sounds like there’s two people screaming at once; the face eventually comes off and hardens into a mask, while the body twists and writhes, and starts to revert to something more seemingly human. Whatever it is, they slam the Mask down within the circle of runes, which collapses in on itself, folding into a single point in the air and disappearing. As the pressure wave dissipates through the hall, the person collapses on the floor, spent and probably close to dying.

“The hell was that?!” Whisper exclaims.

“The Mask escaped.” I say, dumbfounded. “It’s just the Maskbearer now.”

“Well obviously, but where’d the Mask go?” Whisper demands, getting to her feet. Walking past me, she hooks a foot under the Maskbearer and flips him over on his back, resting a boot on his neck but not leaning down on it yet. “Talk! Where’s the Mask?”

I walk over to join Whisper, axe still at the ready in case I’ll need it — which I don’t think I will. The Maskbearer is in bad shape, lying limp on the floor, every rise and fall of his gashed chest labored. Even if we call a medical team, I’m not sure there’ll be anything to save by the time they get down here.

“Stay…” the Maskbearer wheezes, but even that seems to require massive effort.

“Whisper, take your boot off his neck. If he’s trying to say something, he needs the breath to say it.” I say, before looking over my shoulder at the operatives in the hall behind me, shouting an order. “Call for a medical team!”

“You got something to say, spit it out.” Whisper orders, taking her boot off the Maskbearer’s neck. “We ain’t got time to play twenty questions and I suspect you don’t have that kind of time either.”

The Maskbearer pulls a deep breath as the boot comes off his neck. “Stay away…”

“Not gonna happen.” I answer, letting my axe tilt down. It’s pretty obvious he’s no longer a threat to us at this point.

“Stay away from our Sanctuaries.” he rasps, rolling his head to look at us.

“Why, you got something in there worth hiding?” Whisper says, folding her arms.

He opens his mouth, seeming to fight with his tongue to gargle the next words out. “Our people. You kill our people. We’ll kill yours. An eye for an eye. A life for a life.” With that, his head starts to loll back the other way. “Stay away from our Sanctuaries…”

His voice trails off, fading into a whisper on the tail as his eyes start to unfocus. His chest sinks on an exhale, and it doesn’t rise again; the only sound left in the hall is that of the operatives shuffling in the hall behind us, and the distant echo of the machinery on the docks. Turning off the plasma blades on my axe, I order my helm to disengage while Whisper reaches up and turns off her interference collar. Once my helm has folded back, I glance down at her, and she looks back at me.

“I don’t like this.” she says quietly.

“Yeah.” I answer just as softly, both of us looking back to the Maskbearer’s body in the flickering dark. “Me either.”