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Chapter four - Interlude

"Driver? Can you do me a favor please?” A female asks over the truck’s intercom system.

Her words broke a silence that lasted only thirty minutes. It’s embarrassing to say, but I jerked the wheel when she called out, nearly running off the road.

Dammit. Why am I scared though? I move hundreds of pounds of solt in a day with the authorities crawling down my neck and I’m scared of this woman?

I drop my right hand from the steering wheel and press the talk button on the control pad.

“Yes, your ladyship?” I ask.

“How much longer until we reach the estate? I’m getting rather bored of sitting back here without entertainment.”

I’m getting bored of being with this stuck-up woman.

“Not much longer, we’re the front gate now.”

“Finally. I’ll have to inform my husband of your performance when we get there.”

I sigh and try to focus on the road ahead. Just a few more feet.

Over to my left, I see one of the new compound guards standing at attention. He signals for me to roll my window down. As I comply, he walks over.

“Do you have your clearance number and ID card?” He asks.

“Yes, hold on.” I reply, reaching over for the glovebox.

After a moment of fishing, I pull it out and show it to the man.

“7290-TD1 is my numbers.”

“Hmm…. Your numbers aren’t matching up.” He says.

“What do you mean not matching? I use this all the time.”

The guard steps back and draws a sword.

“I’m going to need you to step out and open the passenger side.”

“There must be a mistake.”

“It’s protocol. Just comply and we can get this issue sorted out.”

I open the door and hop out, making a point to have my hands above my head, and open the door passenger door. The female I’ve been transporting, who isn’t bad on the eyes, looks at me with annoyance and starts sliding out.

“Finally home. Don’t expect me to tip you.” She says.

“Not inside yet, there is a clearance issue.”

“Clearance issue? For you maybe. But not me”

“So the drug lord has one of these kinds of women. Pity.” A completely different voice than before says.

I turn around and am quickly met with a fist to the face.

Chapter five - Maebure

“Do you really believe Awkins is going to fall for this trick?” The same voice as before asks.

“We just cleared out his outer defenses without alarm in less than five minutes. There’s nothing to worry about.” I reply.

“True. But he IS a drug lord. Possibly at Warlord level. We should exercise caution.”

“Don’t flatter him. He’s an underling. One who is impatiently waiting for his mistress to arrive in the middle of the night. He’s weak and unprepared.” I reply.

“Just be careful, I’d hate to have to back you up again.” He says.

“You always intervene right when I’m about to reveal my trump card. You’re no knight in shining armor. I can take care of myself.”

“If you could, I wouldn’t be here. Would I?”

“You’re her little lap dog. That’s why you’re here, Damien. Don’t forget that.”

“I’ll maintain radio silence unless you request, or visible need, assistance.” He replies.

“Copy that.”

With that, I reach deep into my pocket and pull out an amulet by its chain. The object itself is nothing special. A simple circular shape seashell holds a colorless gem in the center, while a metallic band connects it with two smaller shells a few inches above it. My eyes cut over to the unconscious sleeping beauty sprawled out on the ground.

Impersonating her shouldn’t be hard. Her outfit isn’t something I would wear. A tight fitting deep V-neck shirt with a split running up the sides of the shirt. She sports a small short sleeved cardigan and a pair of tight fitting jeans.

I walk over to her and lift her head up gingerly. Using my free hand, I place the amulet around her neck, making sure to place the shell on her chest. The gem glows a bright blue, with her body following suit. After a few moments, the color recedes and it glows green just in the gem.

I lift the woman’s head up again and take the amulet off her, and place it around my neck. I tap the gem lightly. Instantly, I take her form, clothing and all.

I’m glad this is an illusion. I wouldn’t be able to walk around in this freely.

Now to clean up the loose ends. I hold my right hand out, one finger sticking up, and pump magic directly to it. I trace down, then ninety degrees to the left sharply. Lastly, I swipe to the right and back down. Then connect the points with a circle and place my entire hand on it. The spell sticks as if made of glue and I direct it down to the ground. It visibly disappears for a second, then moments later, a bubble grows quickly from the center, engulfing the fortress.

“Damien, how’s it looking on your end?” I ask.

“Like we were never here. Could’ve warned me. I almost started shooting again.” He replies.

“Radio silence.” I say, getting up from the ground.

I head straight for the main door, past the illusionary idle guards. I open it and head inside. The interior is…better than the others I’ve seen. There isn’t passed out bodies on the floor or a smell of drugs in the air or stripper poles. Though I believe his mistress has had a heavy influence. The walls are painted white; the floors are made of tile. All the furnishings needed for a diplomat.

“Mistress Gianna.” A man dressed like a butler says, from the top of the stair case. He bows gracefully.

“You’re finally here. I was getting worried something had happened to you.”

“No, I’m quite fine. My driver was just slow is all.”

“Lord Awkins will have him dealt with. He is in the master bed room awaiting your arrival. Shall I fetch you proper nighttime attire?” The butler says, continuing down the stairs.

“Excellent. I have missed him. And no. Just bring us some refreshments please.” I say.

“As you wish.” He says with another bow before walking off.

I start to ascend the staircase at a moderately fast pace. I don’t need this butler to hit the alarm if I need to engage in “advanced interrogation” tactics. Once I reach the top of the stairwell, I’m greeted by several doors, which would be confusing if the one I need to go into wasn’t the most decorative in the house. It’s a French door and is straight down the hall.

It takes me a full ten minutes to reach the door. I knock on it softly.

“Come in.” A gruff voice calls out.

I open the door and enter the room, closing it behind me. I see a man lying in bed. He turns over to look at me. His face was full of annoyance until we met eyes.

"Gianna! I was getting impatient.” He practically yells.

“Good things come to those who wait!” I reply with a smile that took all I had to muster.

"Sorry it took me so long. I had to handle your assets while you were in hiding." I continue, walking forward.

"No worries, I knew I could leave it all to you, my love. Now come here." He says, holding his arms out.

"Before we get into that...We need to go into business details."

"I should be out of here by then, don't wor--"

"We can’t go off of “should be” dear. The authorities are hot on your trail. I wouldn’t be surprised if they attack the fortress tonight. We need a plan.” I say.

“That fool Yothalis should be dealing with them. There is absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“You’re trying my patience. Can’t we talk about this?”

“Just take a load off.” He says, tapping the bed.

Sigh. This is why I don’t have a boyfriend now.

I tap the gemstone in the center of my necklace.

"Look, I don't have time for your bull. Just tell me what I want and you'll live.

"What the. Htenna. I'm not telling a Htenna shi--"

“You’re supposed to be at Warlord strength. Why are you so …. Sorry? Yothalis is slipping.”

“I don’t know what you’r—“

At that moment, that’s when I decided I had enough. Reaching my left hand down, I grip my dagger and pull it out, slowly, letting the sword glide across the metal sheath.

“If you’re going to try to waste my time, I can kill you and torture Gianna.” I tell him, placing the dagger right at his neck.

“You wouldn’t dare. I doubt she’s even arrived.”

"Your girl is being well taken care of by my backup. He’s really hands on with the women we pick up.” I say with a grin.

“I won't harm her at all if you give me what I want."

“I'll be branded a snitch by the Tej! No one will want me after that." He tries to reason.

"That's not my problem, is it? You’re the one with pitfall guards and a ditzy woman.”

He grunts in visible dissatisfaction.

"We're getting a large Solt shipment very soon. The Vanders have been stepping up their patrols, so it'll go through this territory instead."

"That's all you had to say. Thank you for your help."

I pull the knife away and slide it back into the holster on my hip.

"You'll release her now right?"

“Oh, no. Not yet. I know a prepared front answer when I hear one. You using one means you’re weak enough to break. You’re coming home with me.” I say.

Almost out of nowhere, a soft knock is heard on the door.

“Master? I have the refreshments Gianna requested. May I come in?”

“Send him away.” I say.

“Thank you Jarvis. Just…Set them down and take the week off.”

“Alright sir.” He replies.

The clanking of the metals and the tray can be heard, as well as his fast footsteps across the floor.

“Damien. Mission accomplished. Can you bring the ship around for me?” I ask.

“I’m waiting for you to use your trump card. Go on, I can wait.” He replies.

“You’re going to die by my hand one day. I hope you know that.”

Chapter six - Interlude

"Arch-Duchess Gail,

This is Spectre S-75. I apologize for breaking protocol on Eegrey. It will not happen again. To keep my promise, I will be issuing monthly reports to keep you abreast on our operations. I hope this is alright. If not, you know how to discontinue them.

I won't sugar coat our situation. We are now down to one-hundred and thirty-seven agents, well below the three hundred we started with so many years ago.

Even with such low numbers, we manage to keep watch over key systems. Someone sparked something big. If our intel is right, riots and strikes will kick off within the month. Calls for referendums will go out. Expect rouge Mershiar to stroke the flames.

I don't want to jump to conclusions, but this is just like them. Divide and conquer. As you know though, we can't just jump to conclusion. My group is already spread thin. Can you find a way to clear out potentials while we dig deeper?

On a lighter note, our raid on Eegrey did prove to be beneficial in the end. We've recovered numerous data drives and hard copy books containing intelligence you'll want to go over after reading this.”

Yours truly,

Spectre S-75

Chapter seven - Shieki

If I never had to come to back to the Titgan Ghost Zone, I wouldn’t complain. Out of all the scenic places I could be at in this universe, I'm stuck at this mediocre Port-City, named DyolF. I say this because, DyolF was built for commercial use. It was only after large numbers of people began to settle around the port did the officials decide to add a housing district for the workers. Since then, they have tried adding something new to it, if the money is right first.

The city has one, maybe, two eateries. No entertainment. Lots of bars. Nowadays, unsuspecting tourists stay in the housing district and everyone who works in or around the port commute in daily. I don't blame them though; the city doesn’t even have a wall to protect them from the inevitable pirate raids.

If the city officials accomplish nothing else during their terms, they make sure the large warehouses and harbor, the two features that make DyolF the largest Port-City in the sector, are running smoothly.

It's just about noon, though, you couldn't tell by looking at the sun's position in the sky. It's been raining on and off, passively and intensely, nonstop, uncaring in who or what it wets, for about a week now. I'm surprised the ocean hasn't overflowed into the levies already.

Wise men of the land preach that raindrops are tears of joy from the heavens above, that’s why the rain doesn't bother me at all, and it’s very useful in my line of work. On top of the rain, its bone-chilling cold outside. Or, that's what I can assume from watching people shiver from my inn window this past week.

Looking over my right shoulder, I see my partner, Turoe, sound asleep and shuffling his position in bed, his black hair swaying side to side. He's been asleep since eight last night. His ability to sleep through the harshest of storms for so long baffles me. I can’t yell at him for it, it’s not like we have anything else to do.

We are under strict orders to stay in the highest inn in this city, which, just so happened to be the most luxurious one. Last I checked, it’s been a week since Turoe and I receive any word from the councilman on what we’re supposed to do here. If this mission is going to be like the last one, I’m going to resort to drinking. If the council wants to pay me to gaze out the window, watching the rain drench the people of Port DyolF, I won't complain. I can wait until the orders arrive.

"Valen. I’m hungry, want to hit the town with me?” Turoe asks with his raspy morning voice.

I had almost forgotten he was in here. That normally doesn't happen often. He can go on for hours, rambling about anything. The downtime must be getting to him as well.

“Turoe, you know our orders.” I reply calmly, not wanting to sound too bossy.

Sometimes, I think he just likes to ask questions he knows the answer to. Not too long after I gave him my reply, I hear rustling behind me on his side of the room. Looking over at him, I watch as he frantically searches the wooden dressers, probably in search of his wallet for some fun out in the city. Man, he’s going to get us in trouble.

“Why are you always wanting to go out during our downtime? You always complain you don’t get enough rest on missions.” I ask.

He laughs heartily. It’s his, “you know you’re right just let me do what I do” laugh.

I sigh deeply and turn back towards the window.

“Just bring me back a drink.”

“If I remember I’ll get it. Might spike it with something extra for you.” He replies.

I don’t dignify his word with a response. The methodical ringing of the dock bell added on to me watching the waves rock the hundreds of docked ships back and forth along the jagged coast was enough to make my eyelids heavy, enough to make me slowly drift to sleep.

Then suddenly, I hear a loud knock on the room door. I spring into action, bolting past Turoe, who was about ten feet from the door and could have very well answered it. This can only be our orders. No one else knows who's staying in this room.

Reaching my hand out, I grip the gold painted doorknob and turn it. Quickly, I swing the door towards my body. I’m now standing face to face with the innkeeper.

This man, who I've gotten to know over the course of a week, looks too old for this job. His face is completely wrinkle and scarred, his hair white as snow. In his shaky hands, he holds a white envelope, which is only address to the receiver, me. Command loves its secrecy.

“Here you go Valen, a letter.” The innkeeper said with his trembling voice, handing me the envelope.

He knew from my daily questions about the mail route that I was expecting something.

“Thank you. I’ve been waiting for days.” I reply, taking the envelope from his hand.

I turn off from him and walk back into the room, not bothering to close the door back. We probably are leaving this inn soon anyway.

With one hand, I tear open the envelope and take out the brown colored parchment, discarding the envelope to the floor. I scan over the paper, dying to see where we are going.

My mouth to fell open and my eyes bulged out of their sockets.

“What’s the letter read?” Turoe asks me, obviously noticing my facial expression

"Suit up."

"Why!? Where are we headed?!"

"We’ve been summoned to the capital."

“Wait, what? Why the capital? Wouldn’t they send us to Sakatu?”

I shrug while turning away, walking towards the blue duffel bag on my queen size bed. Answering questions about why command gives out seemingly illogical orders is pointless. It’s best to just get to work. As I near the bag, my face perks up. One of the best parts of this job is the tools we use.

Sliding the zipper down, the bag opens with a mild whining sound. I toss the letter into a side pocket of the bag and close it back up. I look over at Turoe, only wearing half of his armor.

“You almost ready?” I ask Turoe, though I already know what he will say back.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the stables in ten.” He replies, reaching back into his bag for something.

Word for word.

“Hurry it up.” I reply with some annoyance in my voice.

Maybe I’m just in too much of a hurry to reach the capital city for some reason. I don’t know why, we have at least several to get there. Maybe even more with this storm going on. Even with this in mind, I slung the duffel bag over my shoulder and hasten for the door.