Claws of Purple returns to work (after A Party To It), and soon decides to accept an undercover mission investigating potential pirates at a far-off mining installation. Mind control, identity loss, peril, violence, dystopian themes. ~14100 words.
"Did you remember that report?" asked the departmental head, stopping Claws of Purple before she entered the meeting room.
"Uhm..." Purple clumsily grabbed at her messenger bag, pulling it open and producing a folder for them. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good." grinned Plume of Orange. "I'd hate to have to report back non-satisfactory performance back to Talons of Grey, after all, she'd be so disappointed."
Claws of Purple stuttered a little, caught off guard by the mention of her Assistant's alternate name. "Y-yes, ma'am." she replied, before realising the departmental head had already brushed past her towards the meeting room.
After a deep breath and a sincere hope her blush wasn't showing through her feathers, she composed herself and followed in Orange's tracks.
"Good morning, all." said Feathers of Silver, seated at the end of the grand hardwood table, as everyone took their seats. "And a special welcome back to Claws of Purple, who missed our last meeting recovering from injuries sustained during a field operation."
This wasn't at all unusual for the Director to directly mention those returning from injury in the duty of service, but paired with the report that had been circulated last departmental meeting, Purple knew that at least the departmental heads would have known what the 'injury' was. "Uhm, thanks, Director. It's... good to be back." replied Purple, with an uneasy smile.
Silver's reply was a kind smile, lingering for a second before she opened up the folder before her and began the meeting in earnest.
"I did have a question about one of the reports last month, Director." piped up one of the lesser desk-bound Agents.
Feathers of Silver looked up from her agenda, and gave a little nod. "Yes?"
"The Agent, with the chip." continued the Agent, causing a chill to go down Purple's spine. "We never raised the topic of their continuing ability to serve the Ministry."
Purple's face drained as she sunk back into her leather chair. "Oh, god. They're one of those Agents." she thought. "The kind that'd shoot me themselves, if they had access to the uncensored report."
Plume of Orange and Feathers of Silver both raised their hands to speak, but stopped after a short exclamation. The other departmental heads looked uncomfortably towards Purple, mostly in second hand embarrassment.
"I would like to know why you think that's a topic worth discussing openly, Agent." Feathers of Silver said, hand gesturing Orange down. "Her returning performance has been excellent, and her status opens up a number of opportunities for us, including finally letting us launch the Velorum investigation."
The Agent shook her head in disgust. "So you're going to let an Assistant run around in Agent clothes, then?"
"If you're not respectful towards a fellow Agent, you might find yourself an Assistant!" Plume of Orange exclaimed, nearly reaching over the desk. "I will simply not let anyone in my department be treated like that."
"Your department?" asked the Agent, briefly matching eyes with Purple, who sank back into her chair further as if she could disappear. "I see. I retract my statement."
"Good." Feathers of Silver said, deliberately trying to not draw any more attention to the topic. "If we have nothing else to discuss, the meeting is adjourned. See you next month."
As Avians began to get up and leave, including the belligerent Agent, Purple remained frozen in place, staring forward, until it was just her, Plume of Orange, and Feathers of Silver left.
"Does she know who I am?"
Feathers of Silver frowned a little, pacing in front of her desk. "It's not exactly secret in that meeting, Purple. Nearly everyone there can simply look up your file."
"I can drag her down to the basement, click, done." Orange said, sitting next to Purple on the couch in Silver's office. "If we're serious about not allowing it in the Min-"
"Quiet, Orange. Nobody else is getting chipped." Silver said, with a sigh. "It would be hypocritical of us to decry someone's treatment of a chipped one by making them one."
"Fine." Plume of Orange crossed her arms and gave a glance towards Purple. "Nothing will happen, don't worry."
"You say that. All it takes is one security guard and twenty minutes and there won't be anything left to save." Purple mumbled, pulling her cup of tea closer. "Goddess, Silver. You should have just left me in the processing center."
"None of that. Even if I didn't like you, you're too much of an asset to just throw away." Silver paused her pacing, instead walking over to a free-standing cabinet and retrieving a small crystal flask from it. "The information about your identity is classified. It won't spread."
Purple snorted into her tea. "Yeah, right. Your dossier wasn't supposed to spread either, but Tiaris seemed to get it pretty easy."
"So what's your fear, them 'finishing the job', then?" Silver asked, taking a pair of glass cups and pouring a little of the clear liquid from the flask into each. "Wormwood?"
Purple held out her cup as Silver passed one of the glasses to Orange. "Might as well be intoxicated at work."
"No, you're going home after this, Purple." Silver said as she poured a bit of the flask into the teacup. "You should have some time off."
Purple sniffed the spiked tea and screwed up her face a little, before taking a big swig anyway. "And prove them right? No." Purple stood suddenly, taking another gulp of the tea. "That Velorum mission. I'm in."
Silver put the top back on the flask and placed it down. "I didn't actually expect you to do that investigation, you know. It's too dangerous to risk a high level Agent such as yo-"
Purple downed the rest of the drink and slammed her cup down on Silver's table. "I'll do it. I'll show them."
"Mistress, are you sure you want to do this?" said Tiaris, eyes poking over the edge of the folder.
"Yes." Purple replied. "I already agreed to it."
"While intoxicated."
"I had barely finished swallowing the drink."
"Look, just because you're the best doesn't mean you're the only one that can do it. I'm sure she'd let it slide if you went and backed out."
Claws of Purple sighed, reaching over to tug the folder back. "It's not just that. In the meeting..." Purple's voice trailed off as she gestured with one hand, hoping she'd not have to explain.
"You did remember the documents you had to finish, yes?" asked Tiaris with a bit more firmness than usual. "I was asked to remind you."
"Yes, I did remember them, Plume of Orange passes her regards, whatever. That was all fine. There was just one of those... egh, very anti-Assistant types in the meeting. Asked whether I should be allowed my position still."
Tiaris raised an eyeridge. "What, to your face?"
"No, I don't think she knew who I was. At least, when she asked the question. I am sure she knows now." Purple said glumly. "They're an Agent in the departmental meeting, so they have everything they need to confirm it, even without the classified report."
"So you're taking this assignment to prove them that you deserve your job?"
"Yes." replied Purple, with a sigh.
"Tiaris asked that she come along too." Purple said, handing back the briefing file to Silver. "She demanded it all night, until I agreed to ask you today."
"Do you think she can handle it?" asked Silver, dropping the file back on her desk for later shredding. "She'll be just as at risk as you are."
"She can handle herself. But... that's the condition, she said."
Feathers of Silver chuckled to herself. "Plume of Orange did note that your Assistant is an effective way of keeping you in check, so, maybe it's for the better."
Purple frowned at the implication, but decided to let it slide. "Yes, Director."
"Very well. She'll need her chip reprogrammed slightly. If it's as bad as we think it is, the last thing we need is her listening to authority there." Silver opened up her desk drawer and filed through it, before pulling out a small square business card, one side covered in a machine-readable code, and the other in Avian text. Purple blinked in surprise as she realised she could read both. "I remember you saying you had some vision problems, go get that sorted out too before you leave. Crimson's a good tech."
It wasn't long after the pair arrived that Purple realised why Silver trusted this Wings of Crimson so much.
"Oh, so you did bring her! How exciting!" chirped the Avian, her attention towards Purple similar to as if she was an unsolved jigsaw puzzle. "I'm sure we can fix the... optical issues up, wasn't it?"
"Hello, Ashen." Purple said, after making sure nobody else was in the lab. "I'm the one bringing Tiaris here today, thank you."
Crimson blinked, and looked over at the Assistant. "Oh. But, I'll get to work on yours after, right?"
"Yes." grumbled Purple. "If you really must."
"By the way, it's Tech Wings of Crimson out here! Or just Tech, if you prefer!" chirped Crimson, as she herded Tiaris towards one of the chairs in the chip lab. "What can I do for you today, my dear?"
Tiaris climbed up into the chair with a smile, settling down into the padding. The restraints in this one were much nicer than the ones in the Ministry chairs she'd first been assigned in, and Crimson wasn't even putting them on. "Mistress has the mission profile, just a configuration change."
"Oh, well, that's easy!" Crimson said, taking the folder offered to her by Purple. "Mmm, okay. Bit of authorisation tightening. Not that you have to listen to much authority these days, do you?"
Tiaris grinned over at Purple, who was watching with a frown. "At least, sometimes..."
"I'll be using the chip interface console here, nice and quick. Just close your eyes, won't be a minute." Crimson pulled a large, thick tablet device from the back of the chair, and started tapping away at it. "Okay, signal status is at full. And... reprogramming. Just relax there, until I come back."
As soon as Crimson tapped the button, Tiaris's face screwed up for a second as if she was intensely focusing, and then settled back to normal, keeping her eyes closed. "Okay. Goddess, those systems are never pleasant."
"It's better than the old version!" sung Crimson as she placed the tablet back in its dock. "Now, Agent Purple, Talons of Grey did say she wanted your optical systems looked at."
"That's Tiaris out here, thank you." frowned Purple. "Do I really want you messing with my head?"
"Do what she says, Mistress..." Tiaris said, eyes still closed. "You need it for the mission."
"Fine." replied Purple, walking over to another one of the chairs and jumping up into it. "Just remember that I am an Agent, okay? And I will put you in one of these chairs myself if I have to."
"Miss Indigo wouldn't mind that, I'm sure..." Crimson sung to herself, as Purple got settled. "I will need to apply the restraints for this, though, Agent, as optical recalibration requires a full reset. It's for your own safety."
"Do as she says." Tiaris growled, preempting the angry complaints out of Claws of Purple's half-open beak. "It's not pleasant waking up after a full reset when you're not held down, trust me."
Suitably chastened, Purple wriggled down to get comfortable in the seat, holding her wrists out over the restraint buckles to allow Crimson to do them up, with an extra one across her legs and her chest. "Yes, Tiaris."
"Thank you!" Crimson said as she pulled the tablet belonging to Purple's chair from its dock. "Access code, please, Tiaris?"
"Four three six two one."
"Ah, yes. There we go." Crimson tapped the code in, and the tablet was then able to interface with Purple's chip. "Hey, by the way. You're allowed to call her 'Mistress' here if you really want."
Purple opened her beak to protest, but Crimson had already pressed the shut down button, and the Agent went limp in the chair.
Altering any of the physical interface parts of the chip necessitated a full shutdown for safety reasons in Class B and above, and the tech wasn't going to take any risks with an Agent's mind. It was Purple's first reprogramming shutdown since being released from the Processing Facility, and she didn't find it exactly enjoyable.
The shutdown was her senses, muscles, nerves, and the chip that controlled them, but the chip was not invasive enough to pull her out of consciousness as well. Instead, faced with an empty abyss of input, her mind made it up.
For some reason, it went back to the Facility where the chip had been installed. Being dragged through the entrance, being thrown into a temporary cell, and then picked up and dragged to where finally she'd be drugged and have the infernal thing stuffed into her skull. It was a strong memory, still only a few weeks old, and seemed to be in her head whenever there was nothing else there.
She didn't know whether to feel scared, anymore. She'd replayed it enough times that she knew what was coming, what she'd feel, so much that it was no longer fresh enough to make her wake from sleep when it reached the part when she was thrown into the cell, or jump up out of fright if the sight of the automated chipping chair entered her mind during a daydream. But it was enough to still be disconcerting.
Did Tiaris remember it like this as well? Hopefully not, Purple was told all the memories before waking up are erased. Despite there being many questions the Agent wanted to ask about the Assistant's past, that was impossible, and in this case, maybe for the best.
The sudden return of her senses caused nearly every muscle in her body to jolt in surprise, her body struggling against the straps before slumping back into the seat.
"Welcome back, Mistress."
Purple groaned, trying to open her eyes, but instead only finding her body able to twitch slightly.
"Okay, returning physical control..." said Crimson, audibly tapping away on the chip interface console. "Once she's settled down, you can take the restraints off, and be on your way."
"Thanks. I'll make sure she gets home alright." replied Tiaris, putting her hand out to squeeze one of Purple's, who weakly squeezed back. "I'll contact you if anything more is up."
"Have a good day, Tiaris, Agent Purple. I need to go attend to some other business now, so I will see you later. Next party, perhaps!"
Purple squeezed Tiaris's hand a little more, imagining it was the tech's neck. "Rrrrgh."
"Shh, shh." said Tiaris, beginning to undo the straps. "She's just playing with you, and you're making it easy for her, Mistress."
Purple rubbed her aching wrists, wondering just how hard she jerked when coming to. "Yeah... I know..." she mumbled, beginning to stretch out and open her eyes to the blinding light of the lab. "You say I'm an easy target, after all."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Purple asked her Assistant, as they arrived in the spaceport's loading bay. "I can do this alone."
"If you're potentially going to get sold off to pirates, I'm at least going with you. Better than being reassigned here." Tiaris said with a smile. She looked around the bay, a small orbital freighter parked right in the middle. "Ah! Here we go." she said, as she saw a pair of steel eggs. "Brand new storage pods, for both of us. Mine at home was an older model, so this will help us keep up the story."
The pair walked up to the pods, unpainted silver eggs with two doors sliding back from the front for entry, marked only with the barcode of who was to be in them. There was a platform inside where the inhabitant was to stand, and a storage container underneath where an Assistant's personal effects were stored. Since their files were temporarily modified to show a very recent Assignment date, they weren't bringing anything with them but fresh standard-issue uniforms, already packed. Purple had asked for some sort of concealed weapon, but that was denied, as the standard cargo scanning systems would certainly pick it up.
"Just walk up the steps, stand on the platform, face outwards, and it'll do the rest."
Purple had never been in a storage pod before, and she was only able to take a few steps forward before pausing. "We'll make it through this, won't we?"
"Yes, Mistress. I promise." replied Tiaris, giving Purple a gentle push. "You'll show them what a field Agent can do."
With a deep breath, Purple climbed up the riser step, turned around, and felt the amorphous foam lining grow around her. The sensation of it pulling her in was a little panic-inducing, but Tiaris's little wave through the closing doors calmed her enough to allow the foam to encase her completely. After a couple seconds, the breathing mask deployed and made its way through the foam, giving Purple the ability to breathe freely.
With nothing else to think about, Purple decided to focus on thinking about the mission. Assistants kept showing up in destroyed pirate ships, sometimes the chips being the only things recoverable from the wreckage. All had reset serial numbers, as if they were never given one during Processing, but that was impossible. It was a mystery, until one showed up with evidence of an incomplete wipe. The only things that the Ministry managed to capture was glimpses of a mining installation, and memories of a novel ore extraction method. There were only three mining installations in the Accord that used this technology, and specially surveilled Assistants sent to them had only disappeared at one of them -- the Velorum Mining Facility.
The pods of Purple, Tiaris, and thousands of other Assistants were placed into racks of eight, a metal frame providing an easier method of stacking it amongst other standard cargo containers in the transport ship they were to be loaded into. Electronics, spare parts, Assistants, and other materials were all stacked alongside each other in the orbital freighter, to be taken up to one of the larger intercelestial freighters which would then deliver the items to their final destination. One of the largest ship models the Accord had produced, the AMT Twin Suns could hold two million tons of cargo and deliver it across the empire in a mere month. Although the target system would usually be at the end of the trip, the itinerary noted that the resources destined for Velorum were high-priority, and must come first.
The Twin Suns dropped out of hyperspace a few hours away from Velorum II, a small colony planet. Orbit of this planet was the freighter's target while the warp drives recharged their capacitors and the freighter ships ferried things down planet-side, but Purple, Tiaris, and a few dozen other Assistants were destined for the asteroid belt mining installation. Loaded into a small warp-freighter of their own, the Assistants and a few tons worth of other supplies would make the jump out while the Twin Suns prepared for their own next jump.
It was barely an hour in warp before the freighter began its docking procedures. The Velorum Mining Facility, a spacestation bolted to an asteroid, was its destination.
"This is Warp Freighter CN-31 of the AMT Twin Suns, requesting docking time." radioed the freighter pilot.
"This is station logistics. You're early, CN-31." replied the logistics control operator. "We'll see if we can clear some space for you."
"Colony needed some urgent supplies, we got rerouted." replied the pilot, pulling his ship into a slow orbit around the asteroid, making sure to keep an eye out for any smaller ones that might get in his way. "It got sent out in a bulletin."
"Nobody reads those things." chuckled station logistics. "Bay 3 is clear. Come in slow, there's miners still docked on 2 and 4, so you will need a clean approach."
"Understood, logistics. Twin Suns has to recharge its warp caps, so I can go as slow as we like..."
The shudder of the metal frame making contact with the floor woke Purple from her sleep. Momentary confusion when she found herself unable to move turned to a mild anxiety as she remembered her situation.
"Okay. You're an Assistant. On a mining installation. That probably sells Assistants like you off to pirates. It's fine." thought Purple, running the mission details through her head again. "Keep quiet. Follow Tiaris's lead. "
She heard the other cargo getting unloaded around her, the sound of chains rattling and then being pulled taut, and metal scraping against metal. Not much other sound made its way through the pod, although she thought she could hear people talking.
"Be careful with that!" yelled the foreman, as two metal containers scraped against each other. "That's got a new drill in it, and we won't get another for a month!"
"Sorry." mumbled the operator, bringing it down a bit gentler. "Do you want these pod racks out first?"
"Yeah, put them up the front. We'll get them organised and sent to work."
There was another jolt as the crane grabbed onto the pod holder's frame, and a sickening feeling of being pulled up at high speed above the rest of the cargo, before being placed back down.
"Okay. Just remember who you are." Purple muttered into her breathing mask. "FC4 Hylia. Class C Assistant. Administration."She kept repeating that to herself, as if it would make her play the part a bit easier.
After what felt like hours, the foam started removing itself from her and the front doors began to open. The light blinded her, but Purple resisted shielding her eyes from it. That's not what an Assistant would do.
"Right, out you get!" yelled the foreman as the doors finished opening. "Line up!"
Purple staggered from the pod, climbing down the deployed steps and ending up on the white marked line where the others ended up. She didn't look to her side, but hoped she'd see Tiaris soon.
"When I come past, give me your serial and class, so I can check you off."
Purple froze up as the foreman started going down the row. Her serial. Oh goddess, what was it?
"Serial?" asked the foreman, as he walked past Purple.
"0000-0C1-CG2B5FC4." Purple replied, almost instantly. "Class C."
The foreman scoffed a little. "Yeah, like we have much use for Cs around here."
Purple stayed straight faced, looking forward, as the foreman ticked a box and moved forward. She didn't know how she recalled it so quickly, but, the chip must at least be looking out for her.
"What, you think that Administration flag meant anything?" Tiaris chuckled, as she helped Purple get the pressure suit on. "I knew I was coming here to get my hands dirty."
Purple grumbled as she tugged on the suit, pulling the thin and slightly stretchy fabric over her feathers and pulling it up to her shoulders, where she turned to allow Tiaris to do up the seal on the back. "I was hoping I'd be able to get a look at some of the records, see if there was any clues there."
"Well, for now, we have to do our assigned tasks. We're out there today, in the refinery tomorrow. Security around this place is pretty loose, maybe you could try sneaking into the office complexes after dark?"
"After dark? If you didn't notice, we're on an asteroid."
Tiaris put her knee up on Purple's back to pull the seal fully shut, causing the other to gasp. "Yes, but administration staff have shifts. Maybe we can find out what they are."
"Hngh. Okay. I... guess that makes sense." Purple shuffled around, uncomfortable with how tight the suit was on her. At least, being an Avian, it didn't really accentuate anything, it just made her look very odd in the high-visibility light blue. "Helmet?"
Tiaris passed the helmet over, a black and straight-angled industrial pressure helmet, with just a tinted visor at the front for vision. Not the most comfortable thing to get on, considering her beak, but Purple did appreciate that it would keep her alive. She looked around, seeing Tiaris placing her helmet on, as well as the rest of the group.
"See you outside the airlock." Tiaris said, pressing the short-range radio transmission button. "Try not to die."
Asteroid mining wasn't hard, it was just dangerous. Once outside the airlock, the Assistants would board the automated cargo transports to be taken to whichever rock was being drilled to bits at the moment. There, they'd unload their equipment, set up the drill supports, and put the Avian-sized drilling machines in place. The lack of artificial gravity meant that moving the drill wasn't too difficult, but it also meant that they could drift off easily if their navigation packs ran out of fuel.
Ultimately, it meant just sitting and watching the drill, making sure the cargo transports left when they were full to ferry the ore to the main station, and keeping an eye on your oxygen level. The helmet did a good job at purifying the air, but breathing too heavily meant that it had a hard time keeping up.
"Just don't have a panic attack in these things, Hylia..." Tiaris mentioned as she gave a jammed drill a good kick with her weighted boot. "Else you might choke to death."
"Is there not an oxygen supply in these packs?" Purple asked, craning her head to look at the navigation pack strapped to her.
"Sure. But that's for the motors, not for you."
Purple grumbled and caught the tools floating from the repair toolbox. "I don't like being an Assistant."
"Yes, you do. Now, pass me the spanner. We'll have to open this up, see what happened."
Purple opened her beak to complain, but decided against airing this particular tirade on the short-range radio. She didn't really know who was listening, after all. "Fine. Coming right up."
The installation's oxygen was much richer than the output of the helmet, and once through the airlock, Purple pulled it off as quickly as she could. "Goddess, these things are awful."
"Assistants don't complain, Hylia." replied Tiaris, taking off her own helmet and putting it back in the storage locker.
"Uh..." Purple placed her own helmet back in another storage locker, beginning to attack the buckles of the dusty boots. "What now, Tiaris?"
Tiaris glared at Purple, pulling off her own boots. "Ask the chip yourself." she replied, before lowering her voice. "Try and make it not so obvious when you're around the free Avians."
"Okay, uh..." Purple closed her eyes, as if it would make it easier, and tried to query the chip by asking the question in her mind. She didn't really ever try to use it, and just let it put things in her mind as she needed them, so she wasn't really sure how to do it.
The chip responded a few seconds later, dumping the day's itinerary into her memories.
"We got here pretty late in the day, so... chow time." Purple replied, a little relieved.
"Hylia, you're an Assistant, you need to learn to behave like one. Not asking me things you can find out yourself goes a long way." Tiaris tapped the boots together to remove dust, and put them neatly in the storage locker. "In fact, we shouldn't really be seen talking."
Purple frowned a little and pulled off her own boots with significantly less grace than Tiaris. "Okay. Sorry, my head's just not together after that trip."
Tiaris eyed the guard patrolling the corridor outside the airlock, the heavy sealed doors fortunately meaning that they were unable to listen to any discussions between the Assistants. "Just don't get caught."
Dinner was less than impressive for Purple. The standard Assistant nutrient sludge was barely edible by Class C standards, and for her, it was a challenge to keep down. But it was that, or starve, and a week in effective stasis did leave her rather hungry. After that, it was straight to the relocated storage pods for sleep. Not much sleep, mind you, but enough to keep them working.
"I didn't see the lights on in the administration complex." whispered Tiaris, who slid up beside Purple on the way towards the warehouse where the pods were kept. "They were on before we went for dinner, so, I imagine that they have the same end schedule as we do."
Purple nodded, thinking back to the schedule. "Okay. I'll give it a while for everyone to go to bed, and then I'll see what I can do."
Tiaris nodded. "How are you going to get access? All the doors are locked, so you'll need a key card."
"I'm betting the airlocks don't." Purple replied, with a grin. "At least, on the internal door. The external one should open just from my chip."
"I see. So you're going to..."
"Yep, just sneak around. Another group of Assistants is out there, so using the airlock on our side won't be unusual."
Tiaris stopped in front of the pair's pods, frowning a little. "And, what, you're going to rifle through their documents?"
Purple grinned from ear to ear, pulling something from her ID card pocket. Another silver card -- her Agent card -- in a clear sleeve that prevented it from being read. "This won't open any doors, but it sure as hell will open some computers." She slipped it back, once Tiaris knew her plan. "Then I come back, hop back in my pod, and nobody knows."
"And if you find anything?"
"There's Navy cruisers and boarding ships in orbit of Velorum II. I use their computers to send a coded message, I get back in my pod, and they mop up while we're safely sleeping." Purple looked almost smug at the plan, even if most of it wasn't hers. "And if there isn't anything, well, we dig deeper."
"And you're going to do this tonight?" Tiaris asked as she tapped her pod to open up its doors. "Sure we don't want to scope it out a bit more?"
"I'm not spending another day out in space and eating gruel, thank you."
Claws of Purple sat in the pod, foam suspending her, for roughly an hour. She remembered what she could about the installation layout, joining what the chip was able to tell her with what she saw from the glass catwalks and on the way to the asteroid to be mined. Accord facilities were all built like each other on purpose, so she could make some assumptions, but she never liked hinging a plan on them.
After the chip's clock ticked to 2am artificial local, she decided that it was time, and her chip triggered the opening of the pod doors.
With a deftness she lacked earlier in the day, Purple slipped from the open pod, the doors closing behind her. She wasn't sure if it was the food (since it was basically nutrients mixed with a number of long-lasting stimulants), or that she was now an Agent again, but it did feel easier to put one foot in front of another.
Find the information, call for rescue, then you get a week in first class travel back home. Simple.
Assistant-issue shoes were deliberately quiet, and Purple used this to her advantage, sprinting down the warehouse to the door, poking her head out to see if the way was clear, and continuing down the hallway towards the airlock. Slinking under the windows was the best option, staying out of the sun. It never set on an asteroid, after all.
"Okay." Purple muttered to herself, hitting the airlock open button, waiting for it to pressurise, sticking alongside the doorframe. "Halfway there."
Once the door opened, Purple went straight for the storage locker she used, pulling out the pressure suit, boots, and helmet. The suit went on easier this time now she knew how to do it, and with some fumbling she even managed to get the back seal done up herself. She'd have been proud of herself, if she had time. The boots, helmet, and transport pack went on, and she slammed the open airlock button as soon as the helmet's oxygenisation system finished starting.
The silence of space was almost disconcerting. There were things around her that should have been making noise, but didn't. The sound of the airlock doors opening quietened as soon as the air the sound traveled in was sucked out into the abyss, and soon the only sound in her helmet was her breathing.
Purple pulled down the control arms for the transport pack, thumbs finding their way to the control sticks. With a little burst of propellant, she moved forward and clear of the airlock, controlling herself down and off the edge of the asteroid, trying to not silhouette herself in the sun. She couldn't be sure people weren't sightseeing, after all.
The complex was in a general L shape, with the top of the longest side hosting administration, the corner being where the Assistants and the refinery were, and the end of the shortest side sticking out into space as the freight ports. The longest side sat on the very edge of the sharp-cornered asteroid, a cliff having been drilled into it to give it a more conventional shape for attaching the complex. Purple was using it to hide herself, only drifting up within eyesight of the administration airlock.
Floating up to the entrance, the red entry lamp turned green and Purple pressed the entry button. "Oh thank goddess." she whispered to herself as the doors opened and she pulled herself in. Another button press inside, and the doors closed and the airlock began to pressurise.
The administration airlock was designed for docking ships, not individual ingress, so there were no lockers to be found, only seats for waiting. With lack of a better place to put it, Purple placed the helmet and boots under the chairs as she removed them. The dust coming off the boots was a bit concerning, but Purple just had to hope it wasn't used enough for people to notice.
The office complex was a maze of cubes, with only a handful of private offices for the higher-ranking free Avians. Most desks were filled with paper documents, not computers, as would be expected for Assistants, so it took a fair amount of searching for Purple to find a terminal.
"Come on, come on..." she muttered as the green-on-black terminal burst into life, connecting to the local Mesh. "Old piles of..."
Her cursing at the quality of systems deployed on the frontier was cut off by the feeling of the floor shaking. She turned and poked her head up over the cubicle wall to see what it was, only to see a small transport-class ship hovering outside the administration airlock. It had the boxy red and grey hull characteristic of Accord ships, but the flaking paint and the white symbols sprayed on the side made it clear it wasn't piloted by the Accord Navy. Purple swore under her breath, reaching over to the glowing terminal to rip the power cord from the back. Hopefully the fading green phosphors wouldn't betray her.
"This complex is covered in point-defence lasers." she thought, sinking back behind the cubicle wall. "They must be allowing this through. Oh, goddess, Silver was right." She slipped her Agent ID card out of her pocket, and up under her pressure suit, retrieving it through the neck. "I need to get that signal out."
With a heavy clunk, the transport ship docked. The hissing of pressure normalisation could be heard as the airlock was flooded with oxygen, and if it weren't for the lights coming on, Purple wouldn't have noticed three Avians enter from the other end of the offices.
"How fortunate we got an early delivery, means we're closer to getting enough to get off this rock." one chuckled, approaching the airlock. The other two, which Purple guessed were guards from their their heavy boots, stayed silent.
The foreman was quite pleased with the week's turn of events. Pirate expansion in other systems had meant a demand for helping hands was at an all time high, and if you had hands to give, that meant money. Not money that could be spent in the Accord, of course, but various currencies accepted throughout the universe. Just a few more sales, and him and his team could make a break for neutral territories where nobody would ever find them, and live like royalty for the rest of their lives. The pirates, despite not being happy about being on the wrong end of supply and demand, could still easily afford what he was offering.
"Six more, you say? We got an early delivery, this month, so I can do that..." said the foreman with a grin. "Just say how you want 'em configured and you can be out of here in an hour."
"Good. I don't like sticking around these parts." replied the captain, a pirate of Tarnash descent, only lacking the thick tail that the dragons usually had. Accidents with open engine machinery can do that to a person. "We'll be at the cargo bay, and we'll unload your payment as you load on the slaves."
"Good by me. All the bays are free, just radio Logistics to open one up."
The captain nodded, and returned to the front of the ship, the other myriad pirates dispersing to prepare for loading cargo. The foreman and his guards turned around, exiting the transport's airlock, and reentering their own, sealing it up for their undocking.
"Hey, boss?" asked one of the guards. "I thought we didn't have Assistants come through this lock."
"We don't." the foreman replied, watching the transport drift away. "Why?"
The guard leant down to push the helmet and boots out from under one of the chairs. "These."
With a frown, the foreman leant down to have a look at them. The helmet's indicators were still glowing through the front, so it had been taken off recently. "Search the offices."
The three entered the airlock, which gave Purple time. The lights being on meant that the green display no longer made it obvious where she was, so she jammed the power cord back in and booted the terminal back up, resisting the urge to repeatedly and loudly tap the enter key in her anxiety, as if it would make it faster.
"Pirates! In Accord space!" Purple thought, staring at the loading bar intensely. "This asteroid field must be how they don't get caught. But, if the radars and point-defence are all shut down anyway..."
The terminal booted, and Purple swiped her card through the reader of the keyboard to authenticate herself, only to be met with an error.
"Unauthorised? What do you mean?" Purple cursed under her breath, swiping the card again. "They can't have locked down the system..."
She stood up as high as she dared and leaned over the desk, trying to check to see if any of the plugs were disconnected. The older terminals had a wired connection to the mesh hub, maybe she pulled that out by accident?
Her wondering was cut short by a sharp jab in her back by the barrel of a rifle, and the undignified squawking of a guard commanding her to remain still.
Even though wrapped in foam, Tiaris could still feel the doors of the pod beside her open.
"Mistress is really doing it." she thought to herself. "Least I can do is watch out for her."
She let a few minutes pass before opening her own pod doors, slinking out into the darkness. The doors closed behind her, locking with a click that felt as if it echoed far too much through the open warehouse. Fortunately, nobody came running, so Tiaris headed for the open door.
The airlock was likely the best place to observe from, Tiaris thought, so she followed her mental map towards it. Rather than sneak, though, she walked as Assistants do normally. Graceful speed, as if every step was precomputed by the chip to land in the perfect spot, and every movement was orchestrated like a dance. It served the Assistants well getting from point A to point B, but it also signaled to the free Avians passing them to step aside and not bother them -- not for the Assistant's sake, but as an act of courtesy to the other free Avian who sent it on its task. It was this that let her just walk past a patrolling guard, who didn't even so much as glance towards her.
The airlock was missing a suit, as Tiaris expected. Claws of Purple had left already, as expected, and Tiaris could only hope that the Agent had reached the other airlock. She'd seen Purple practice during the day with it, and she was sure it was covered somewhere in field Agent training, but she couldn't drop the worry that a day of labour and no sleep meant risks. Purple wasn't conditioned like an Assistant.
The worries gave way to a new set, though, as Tiaris tried to figure out where the other airlock was. Her question was answered by a ship drifting towards the installation, leveled out, as if to dock. It didn't take Tiaris long to notice the spray-paint on the side of the long-disused class of Accord transport ship, and to notice the scanning point-defence array above the airlock ignore it.
"Weapon. You need a weapon." Tiaris thought to herself almost instantly. If she ran into any, the only way to command any respect or a chance at living was equal force. Considering the hijacked equipment they usually used, a guard's rifle would be enough...
Tiaris thought for a second. The chances of gaining access to the armoury were low, especially if the pirates were friendly with the facility staff. The only way to get her hands on a weapon was from a guard already walking around.
"An Agent? Something must be amiss." the foreman said, looking over the pressure-suited Assistant on her knees before him. "You," he said, pointing at a guard, "Go get the console to check."
The guard nodded and headed off to retrieve what she was asked for, leaving the other guard with his rifle leveled at Purple.
"Who are you?" the foreman asked. Frowning at her subsequent silence, he went down on one knee to look her in the eyes. "Answer me, Assistant."
"FC4 Hylia." Purple replied, shifting slightly, trying to get as comfortable as she could. Having to keep her hands behind her head didn't help. "Class C, Administration."
"And this?" asked the foreman, holding out Purple's Agent ID card. "It says right here, 'Claws of Purple', Agent."
"I don't know." Purple replied, voice calm. It was difficult when her arms hurt from their awkward positioning, and her knees ached from the hard floor, but she was prepared. However, these guards treating her as incredibly dangerous by default didn't help her potential escape chances.
"Right." he said, turning it over in his hands. "Violet, give her a shot in the knees."
Purple's eyes went wide, her enforced calm breaking once the laser rifle dropped to aim. "Wait!"
"Then answer my question." the foreman replied, holding his hand out to stop the guard. "If you do as I say, there's no need to hurt you."
Purple eyed the laser rifle the guard was holding, a knot of panic forming in her stomach. She'd been trained on such a model, and knew that even on a lower setting, the nerve damage would be such that her leg would never heal, even if she got medical treatment. "Okay. Okay. It's an Agent ID card I was given. To access the computers."
"Given to you? By who?"
Before Purple could answer, the other guard returned with a boxy tablet-looking device. Purple recognised it instantly as one of the chip consoles. "That... that... how do you have that?"
"Oh, they can be got at the right price, don't worry." The foreman grinned as he took the device and started it up. "Now, considering you were holding an Agent ID card, let's ask again. Who are you?"
"0000-0C1-CG2B5FC4 Hylia." Purple responded, almost automatically. "I came on the transport ship yesterday."
"Hm, yes, you do look familiar. I don't bother remembering the serials, however." The foreman put the device forward and began scanning, causing Purple to cringe as she felt the chip be interrogated. "It does match the chip, though. Hm."
"If she has a chip, can't you make her talk?" the guard holding the rifle asked. "It'd be a shame to have to injure her, when we could sell her off after."
"That's true... but... the security systems won't let me do anything. It seems someone has locked her down." the foreman frowned. "Hang on, let me try this."
Purple's panic only got worse when she saw her ID card pressed into the machine. She jerked as if to reach up to grab it, but the guard stepped forward to jab the end of the laser rifle into her chest.
"It's all funny, you know. An Assistant shows up with an Agent ID card, and then acts very possessive of it..." asked the foreman. "You know, it almost feels like they chipped an Agent just to send here..."
"If she's from the Ministry, it's a liability if she disappears, boss." the other guard said, with a frown. "They'll want the body. We can't just say this one fell into a smelter."
"Right." the foreman replied. "So we have to get rid of her someway else. Blue, get me her transport pack."
Purple tried to stop her heart rate increasing any further, taking slow, deep breaths. She was defenceless, on her knees, and they were talking about 'getting rid' of her. She had called for help, but, an hour is a long time to die in. "I suggest you let me go." she said, voice wavering a little.
"It's obvious you've seen too much, Agent." replied the foreman, taking the transport pack from the guard who fetched it. He opened a valve, venting the propellant gas into the air.
"Wh..." Purple looked at the pack, confused. "What are you doing with that?"
"Put this on." The foreman ignored the question and threw the pack down to her. "Then, get in the airlock."
Purple stood slowly, putting the pack on, still very wary of the rifle pointed at her. "What are you doing?"
"Well, in a few days, we'll pick you up from floating in the asteroids, frozen, and report with great sadness to the Homeworld that one of our Assistants passed away from foolishly running out of propellant." The foreman grinned and gave her a push towards the airlock. "Move."
Purple stumbled towards the airlock from the push, falling from a shove as the doors shut behind her. "H-hey!"
"We left your helmet there." one of the guards said. "Not like it'll do you any good."
Purple scrambled for it on all fours as the door closed and the red warning lights began flashing. Mere seconds after shoving it onto her head, the airlock hard cycled, and Purple was dragged out by the rush of air escaping into the void. The Avian waved her arms as if she could pull herself back towards the station, but it was of no use, and with her propellant reserves empty, she just continued drifting out away from the airlock and into open space.
Tiaris stumbled around the corner, clutching her stomach, dark red blood visible on her grey dress. Barely a few steps after, she slumped onto her knees with an audible groan.
"Oh, goddess." the guard mumbled, slinging her weapon to her side and running over to the Assistant. "What happened?"
"The... pirates..." Tiaris said, voice strained.
The guard had also seen the pirates docking, and even though they paid up last time, there was always the risk that they'd take what they wanted. "What did they do?" she asked, helping Tiaris to her feet, trying to hold the Assistant up.
"They..." started Tiaris, shuffling onto her feet. "They..."
Before the listening guard could react, Tiaris swept their legs out from under them, causing them to fall towards the floor. The swipe transitioned into a shove, the guard losing consciousness as her head slammed against the wall, Tiaris catching her as if to not cause more injury.
"Sorry." muttered Tiaris, as she lay the guard down, taking the rifle and the keycard hanging off their belt. "Should have been wearing your helmet."
Tiaris slung the weapon over her shoulder and let it hung as she stuffed the keycard into her ID card pocket. She felt a pang of regret about having to rip her own dress and cut herself to make it believable, but the chip had already blocked off the pain, and she at least now had a chance of surviving.
The visor in Purple's helmet fogged up with her heavy breathing, the Agent unable to heed Tiaris's earlier advice to control her breaths inamongst the panic. She was able to keep mostly calm when threatened, but actually being left for dead in space was different.
"This is it, is it? Floating in space, to be found by some archeology crew in sixty thousand years? Is that what it's all come to?"
Struggling to keep up with her panicked hyperventilation, the visor in the helmet flashed a warning about low oxygen levels, which only spurred further panic.
"I'm just a desk Agent. I shouldn't be here. Why am I here? Why did I agree to this? Tiaris was right."
With a whimper, her thoughts drifted to her Assistant. Still sleeping in her pod, likely to wake up to the same fate. A deniable killing, the death notices sent amongst that of all the other Assistants that fell to equipment malfunction. And with the failure of this mission, it's unlikely Silver would be able to try again.
"All I had to do was send the signal. Now, they'll get away with it."
The panic turned to fuming anger, both at herself and the traitors, and then back to panic as the oxygen indicator turned red and she realised the futility of her predicament. Slowly, Purple found herself fighting for breath, as the visor was unable to even provide her enough to sustain her.
Suddenly, she felt something grab her arm. In her oxygen-deprived state she couldn't make sense of what her eyes were telling her, and even if she wanted to, she couldn't struggle. Pulled through into artificial gravity, and making rough contact with the floor, she was dragged further through an airlock, and onto flat floor plate. The thought of taking the helmet off to try and breathe freely passed through her mind, but the feeling of her wrists being bound with tape made it remain a thought. There was no struggle as she finally passed out, oxygen consumption only then dropping to levels that the helmet could replenish.
"One of the guards said you dealt with an Agent, with a chip." the captain said, watching over the setup of his ship for loading. "How interesting."
"Yes, but she's taken care of now." replied the foreman, standing beside him, waiting for the picked Assistant pods to be put in position. "Kicked her out of the airlock. In a week, we'll find her, ship her back to the homeworld, with our regret about an equipment failure."
"She's brave, coming out here."
"Not brave. Just stupid." said the foreman with a snort.
The captain turned to the foreman, with a smile. "I could use skills like hers. I want her."
The foreman looked down at the rows of pods, and shook his head. "I need her for plausible deniability. An Agent goes missing mysteriously, and they won't be sending in people undercover."
"How much was it you wanted, before getting off this rock, Avian? Would sale of your entire stock cover it? We have plenty of transport ships, and we can take you anywhere in the galaxy. It would be worth it, to me, for that one Agent."
The foreman looked down to the pods, and thought for a second. If the Ministry was onto them... maybe it would be better to leave sooner. "Very well. I can arrange her retrieval."
"No need." replied the captain. "I have a ship out to get her already."
The foreman shook his head, as he realised that the deal wasn't his to ever decline. "I can process her when they dock."
"Good." said the captain, turning towards his ship. "And, don't worry. Your knowledge of the chip console makes you well worth us not burning."
Tiaris grumbled to herself. "What did the pirates do?" was a very telling question, to her. For most in the Accord, one wouldn't have to ask what the pirates are doing, but where they were doing it. It was never in question if the pirates were doing something bad.
Assuming everyone was hostile, she checked around corners, stayed in the shadows, and trod carefully. She couldn't assume that Purple managed to get the message through -- she tried not to think of what could be happening to Purple, considering pirates docked where she was going -- but she figured that it wasn't a sure bet that the Accord Navy was called in as their backup.
Guard stations were dotted around the installation, mostly just single rooms with a locked weapon case, a console, and access to video feeds. They were helpfully signposted throughout the hallways, as they also contained first aid supplies, which helped Tiaris end up at one. Taking the keycard from her pocket, she swiped it, and felt a wave of relief as it opened to an empty room.
There was a terminal on the desk in the corner, and a wall of video feeds. Most of them were offline, as it was unlikely the guards actually paid attention to maintaining them, which probably worked in her favour. Pulling the door shut behind her, and engaging the manual locks, Tiaris took a moment to breathe.
"Okay. You're safe. Time to make sure everyone else is." she said as she sat down at the desk and...
...blankly stared at the console her Assistant programming disallowed her from touching.
"Ah! Here's our Agent!" exclaimed the pirate captain, as a pair of his subordinates dragged her by the shoulders out of the transport ship. "Bring her here, and get that helmet off."
The subordinates did so, dropping the Avian on her knees in front of the pirate captain, one grabbing the helmet to jerk it off. Purple gasped as she was exposed to the fresher air of the mining installation, coughing out the stale air.
"What's her name?" asked the captain as one of his subordinates turned her head up to look at him. "I could probably guess, they're all similar..."
"Registration is FC4 Hylia. Not like it matters." scoffed the foreman, stepping up beside the pirate. "She was carrying an ID card registered to a Claws of Purple, but, it could just be a throwaway given to an Assistant to get into our systems. We can't really know."
"No.. she's an Agent alright." muttered the captain, leaning down a little to take a closer look at his catch. "Notice the gleam in her eyes. Chip or otherwise, there's still something there."
"You're working... with the fucking Tarnash?" Purple spat, turning to the foreman, pulling on the tape around her wrists. "I ought to rip you apart, you..."
"Now, now, Claws of Purple. That is your name, yes?" The captain leant down on one knee, bringing himself closer to the Avian's eye level. "I'm no Tarnash, they rescinded my citizenship long ago. Our group has many kinds, even some Avians, like you. Those who got bored of the homeworlds treating them poorly."
Purple glared back at the tail-less Tarnash pirate captain, and wished her hands were free, to go for his throat as well. "Whatever. Just get it over with and shoot me."
"As if I would do such a thing!" exclaimed the captain, standing back up with a hearty laugh. "No, you're going to be working for me, now. You and all the other Assistants."
"If you monsters lay a finger on Tiaris... I'll kill you. Besides, I'll never do anything for scum like you."
"I don't expect you to." the foreman interjected, holding up the chip console. "The chip will do that. That's why we have this."
"You already know that doesn't work on me." scowled Purple. "That's why you threw me into space."
"Well, considering the captain here wants your help so badly, I'm going to ask you for the code to your ID card again." The foreman held up the silver ID card, before slotting it into the console. "I'm sure you'd have plenty of fun, being a pirate, and such."
"I'd sooner die than betray the Accord like you." Purple spat back.
"Ah, well, I am sure we can come to something agreeable." said the pirate captain, with a grin. "You mentioned a... Tiaris? One of your friends? Maybe an Agent, as well?"
"If you so much as think ab-"
"Hand over the code, and we'll spare them. We'll leave them alone, here, in the installation, for your empire to find next time they pass by."
Purple paused for a second, and let her eyes go to the line of pods against the wall. She didn't know if she could trust them, but...
"Hey, boss!" called out one of the Avian workers. "This pod's empty."
"I know, we've got her right here." replied the foreman, waving them away.
"No, no, another one, boss. The one next to it."
Assistants weren't supposed to swear, but Tiaris was doing a lot of it. That restriction was to just out of polite company, but the ban on using terminals was supposed to be permanent. Despite her programming being loosened up a bit for the mission before setting off, it still felt incredibly wrong.
"Ugh, Claws of Gold forgive me." she muttered, gingerly reaching out to press the on button. She'd done that before on the terminal Purple kept at home, letting it warm up for her, so... that was okay, surely.
She took the ID card she stole from the guard and spun it around in her fingers, thinking over the past twenty minutes. Harming herself to feign a real injury, beating up a guard, stealing their gun and ID -- any of this would get her in trouble on the Homeworld, the latter things maybe even meriting execution via class redesignation. Despite that, she did it all without hesitation.
But touching this terminal... felt very different. Was breaking this rule also a part of the mission parameters, once she'd realised the facility was under enemy control? If she was doing this to assure the safety of an Agent, it was surely a rule worth breaking...
The terminal let out a low beep as it finished starting up. Slowly, she turned the ID card around in her fingers, right side down, and slid it through the slot in the keyboard. The terminal beeped again, asking for the four digit entry code.
"Oh, right." Tiaris muttered. "Maybe I should have asked for the password."
She knew Purple's ID card password, as well as that of a few other Agents on the floor Purple worked on. She didn't look on purpose, of course, but when you're an Assistant, you notice everything. She had thought before about how guessable they all were -- since the free Avians lacked the near-perfect memory of an Assistant, they would pick something easy to remember. Their departmental mailing number. Repeating patterns of numbers, or sometimes just four of the same number. In the Ministry, they at least tried to not have a password that simple, but out here...
Taking a deep breath, Tiaris reached out to the keyboard, and hit the zero key four times.
It worked, much to her amusement.
"Code Indigo? Really?" frowned the battleship pilot. "How did they get through our sensors, let alone the station's? Tornis, double check the transmission."
The communications officer sighed to himself, double checking the transmission's contents. Wired directly into the ship's communications systems and by extension the communications of the whole fleet, it wasn't like he could misread a bit of paper. "It does read Code Indigo. Directional transmission, aimed right at the planet, and us. Oddly, it says the sender is one of the guards on the ship."
"Do you reckon it's a trap?" asked the pilot, leaning back in her chair. "They did say to assume the mining facility was under pirate control. What if they discovered the Agent and rallied defences, and sent out the signal to lure us in..."
The gunnery officer chuckled to himself. "Right, like some potential pirates and the lasers of a mining station would even scratch us."
"Either the Agent used someone's logged in terminal, or there's pirates there that want a fight. I'm fine with either. Tell all ships to prepare for warp. We're going to do a synchronous landing, so tell the faster ships will warp after us and catch up."
The communications officer nodded, and returned to his seat, the message already blasted across the waiting battlegroup's Mesh by his chip. "The rest of the fleet is winding up their warp drives, ma'am. Our ship will be ready in twenty minutes, with a two hour jump time."
"Good. Tell them that once we're on grid, whoever bags the most pirate ships gets a drink on me."
Tornis relayed the message, and secretly hoped their ship got the kills. He hadn't been anything close to intoxicated in months. Maybe it'd be a nice change from having the communications of thousand-crew battleships running through his thoughts.
As soon as she sent the message out, Tiaris shut the terminal down. She was surprised with how easily she configured the transmitters to send the message, almost as if she'd done it before.
"Okay. What now?" she muttered, drumming her talons on the desk.
As if in answer, there was a sudden click of the door handle, and it swung open with a kick. Caught unprepared, she lunged for the rifle on her desk, but stopped when an entering guard let off a warning shot, the laser obliterating the terminal she sat by and showering her in glass.
"Push it onto the ground." one of the four guards surrounding her ordered, each with their respective weapon trained on her.
"Or what, you'll shoot me?" Tiaris said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I know you'll do it anyway."
"If you don't come with us, it'll be Claws of Purple as well." another said, stepping forward.
Tiaris frowned, her guess that they'd found Purple unfortunately correct. No matter, she thought, as she'd done her job, and with the terminal destroyed, they had no way of knowing. "Fine." she said as she reached out slowly with one hand to push the rifle away and onto the ground.
"Oh, that name changes things, huh, doesn't it? You an Agent too?" the guard asked, kicking the rifle well out of Tiaris's reach.
"No." Tiaris replied as she slowly stood up. "Just one's Assistant."
"They've got her." the foreman said after listening to his radio, turning back to Purple with a grin. "Now would you like to negotiate?"
"Prove it." Purple replied, scowling.
Soon, Tiaris and the guards made their appearance, the Assistant walking in the middle of them, looking rather annoyed at herself for getting caught.
"Goddess, what happened to your chest?" Purple asked, seeing the dried blood on Tiaris's uniform. "I thought you said you wouldn't hurt her!"
Tiaris was temped to try and hint to Purple that she delivered the message, but decided it was a risk not worth taking. "They didn't." said Tiaris with a sigh. "I did it to myself. Managed to trick a guard, had a rifle for a while."
"That's my girl." Purple replied with a grin. "I knew I picked one that could put up a fight."
"You look a bit worse for wear, though, Mistress." Tiaris tried to move forward to see if she was injured, but was held back by the guards. "And... what do you mean?"
"Don't you mind, Assistant." Purple said, shaking her head. "And me, well, I spent thirty minutes in space without a working pack. Thrown out of it by this traitor."
"That's enough of that." the foreman growled, stepping inbetween the two of them. "Code, now, and she'll be put back in her pod and left here."
"Wait... you're doing what with me?" Tiaris asked, trying to pull from the grip of the guards. "I'm going with her, if she's going anywhere!"
"No, you're not, Tiaris." Purple said, tired eyes looking up to her Assistant's. "Just tell Silver not to mourn me."
Tiaris blinked, what Purple was doing clicking in her mind. "No, Mistress! I... I..." she stuttered, only barely stopping herself from revealing that she'd called for help. If the pirates knew that, they might not care so much about Purple's safety...
"It's six-seven-four-nine." Purple said, turning to the foreman, attention moving away from Tiaris completely. "And if you've lied to me..."
"Oh, don't worry, Claws of Purple. I could hardly let a story of selfless sacrifice not be told..." said the captain as the foreman typed the code into the machine. "It's publicity for us, after all."
Purple went to shoot the captain a dirty look, but by then, the console had connected to her chip. One button press, and everything went black.
Tiaris could hardly watch it. They would go from pod to pod, pulling out the Assistant, connecting to their chips via the console, and then blasting away anything that left of their identity. Serial, identifier, memories, all gone with the press of a button. For the Class As and Bs, it was almost certainly permanent, the chip itself seeking out and scorching the memories. The handful of Class Cs would be luckier, they'd be allowed to naturally forget in time, as the chip wasn't wired as deeply into their minds. But, in a month, they'd all be the same.
They were doing it to every Assistant, too, which made her think that they were going to break for it. Probably wise, considering that they'd figured out the MoIA was onto them, but deeply upsetting to Tiaris. She had no idea when rescue would arrive, nor what form it would be in, just the message to signal it. It had felt like an hour, and there was nothing. Did they even get it?
Tiaris sighed deeply, assuming the worst.. Not only was this mission a failure, with the traitors never likely to be brought to justice, but Claws of Purple was going with them. Owning what amounted to a Ministry operations playbook meant that it would be even harder to catch them.
Tiaris sighed as she saw her pod be wheeled out away from the docking bay. They said she'd be left in there, for the next supply mission to find. She could live in that pod for months, so that didn't worry her, but the thought of being unable to chase after the ones that took Purple did.
"Fine, fine." Tiaris said as the guards prodded her with their rifles, sitting up and walking towards the opening pod. "I'm going."
She'd already seen Purple be loaded into a pod, and put on the ship. She had no idea what they'd done to her, but seeing her Mistress willingly get in to the pod, silent and emotionally blank as a slate, sickened her. It wasn't right.
"Get in." growled one of the guards as the pod doors opened.
Tiaris walked up the steps, turned around, and fell back into the awaiting black foam. The breathing mask settled itself on her face, and she mentally told the pod to prepare her for stasis.
Loading was almost complete, only a handful of pods remained in the cargo bay. All had been processed, but the small flotilla of pirate ships could only hold a half dozen each in their respective bays, so they had to keep docking and rotating around.
"The last ship is for you." the captain said, as the second-to-last rack was loaded in. "It'll fly you to any port in the galaxy."
"Sounds good. And the payment will be wired too, correct?"
"Of cou-"
The sound of the point-defence systems powering up and beginning to fire interrupted them both. The lights dropped to a dark emergency red, and alarms began sounding.
"Accord battleships off starboard, weapons ready for bear! They're locking us!" cried out the logistics officer over the radio.
"Of course they're locking, we opened fire on them!" the foreman shouted over the radio.
"They opened fire first! One of the transport vessels has had its cockpit blown open!"
The pilot grinned as they dropped out of group in formation, being presented with the flotilla of pirate transports. As soon as the warp bubble collapsed and they showed up on radar, each fired up their engines and attempted to scatter. "Tornis, report!"
The communications officer surveyed the results of the radar scan, tallying the ships up in his head. "Six Accord-model transports, two more Tarnash-model. An additional four unknown in loading bays. All hostile."
"No fighters?" asked the gunnery officer, almost disappointed.
"No, sir, but their energy signatures look like they're starting to charge up the warp capacitors to run. I estimate ten minutes until they can jump."
"Right, ten minutes to kill 'em all." replied the gunnery officer.
"MoIA says to not hit the ship hull!" reminded the communications officer, running up to the bridge window to look for himself, rather than relying on what the sensors were saying. "They're going to be carrying Assistant pods, and one of them likely has an undercover Agent."
"Those pods are safe in a vacuum, right?" asked the gunnery officer, looking down at his control computer and typing in something new.
"Yes, why?"
"Hitting the engines might cause an explosion. But, blowing the cockpit might depressurise the ship." replied the gunnery officer, inspecting the firing solution on his system. "Better killing all the pirates than letting them run off with one of our own."
The communications officer was about to mention that there was more than just potentially the Agent on that ship in pods, but decided against it. "Yes. MoIA would be most unhappy with us, if they were to escape."
With the firing solution entered, the battleship's secondary guns began tracking its target. The high-accuracy, intensely focused laser turrets, designed for shooting down attack drones, each tracked the glint of sunlight off one of the pirate transport's window, and after a moment, fired.
"Six battleships, a dozen corvettes, four landing ships... god, it's the entire region's navy here!" shouted the logistics officer, as they saw everything finally come out of warp. "There's debris clouding my sensors, and we can't fight back against that!"
The communications officer replayed the transmission to the battleship bridge's speakers. "That's the logistics tower, communicating to the rest of the station on Accord channels. Should we respond?"
"Sure. Open the radio." replied the pilot, clearing her throat. "This is the pilot of the AAC Claws Of Gold. Prepare for your deaths, pirate scum."
"Classy." chuckled the gunnery officer. "Calculating firing solutions for the remaining ships."
In the two minutes since the Accord battlegroup had landed out of warp, eight pirate transports had been neutralised. Despite their agility, the smaller transports were no match for the 360-degree laser turrets of the battleships, and the large cockpits were an easy target compared to the slender frame of the fighters they were designed to fire upon. Once they were confirmed hostile, the corvettes began opening fire on the point defence systems, wiping every turret off the installation within a handful of intensely coordinated seconds. The only things left were the docked ships, and the hostile crew inside.
"Point defence is down. Boarding ships are cleared to dock." relayed the communications officer, as the landing ships headed towards their target.
Rather than use the existing airlock, the landing ships positioned themselves above various areas, sending pneumatic rams into the hull of the installation, breaking through the steel plates and placing an entry port over the destroyed section. As soon as the rams cleared, dozens of Accord soldiers dropped through, each wearing pressure suits and helmets, the escaping air not of a concern to them.
"Rules of engagement, ma'am?" one asked, taking position to cover the corridor in front.
"Pirates only, save the Avians for interrogation. There are two VIPs dressed as Assistants, so hold fire on the greys."
"They must be really undercover if they're pretending to be greys..." another soldier muttered.
"Okay, the last one is loaded." announced the communications officer, the last pirate wreck being brought into the bays of the half-dozen battleships. The remaining pods from the now-clear installation had been loaded earlier, but none had been opened or inspected. Nobody had any idea which one contained the VIPs, or what state they were in, so it was going to be left to the Ministry on Velorum II, along with the prisoners held on the landing ships. "AAC Righteous Talon is aligning us for warp."
"Very well." replied the pilot. "Aligning for warp."
With her pod set to hold her in stasis, the drugs put into Tiaris's system made her a little more than groggy. Identified as one of the VIPs, she was slated to be taken for medical observation due to her wound and the effects of being taken in and out of stasis, but she refused. The doctors got only one thing out of her, and that was the question: "Where is Claws of Purple?"
The pods were unloaded from the ships by orbital freighters, the rest of the wreckage slated to return to the homeworld for further study. Due to the short notice, the only space the Ministry found was a field outside of the major city where the freighters could land and unload their cargo into rows and rows of pods. Searching through them, especially since the exposure to open space required each one of over a hundred be very carefully and manually unlocked by a Ministry tech. Fortunately, the hull integrity of each of them was within limits, and the Agent's pod was soon discovered.
"Let me through!" Tiaris protested, shoving the stunned doctors aside once she heard. "If you don't let me see her right away, you will have the Director to answer to!"
The doctors, not sure whether she was an Assistant or an Agent with a chip, let her through, Tiaris running from the makeshift medical observation tent out to where the cluster of medical staff were, around Claws of Purple's recently unlocked pod. Her heart couldn't do much else when sink once she saw her, though.
"This modification has been done by... herself?" one of the Ministry techs said, frowning at her chip console.
"No, no..." Tiaris said, pushing into the group. "She was made to give up her own card. They did it!"
"Well, unfortunately, uhm..." the tech looked a bit uncomfortable, a little intimidated by the Assistant yelling at her. "...I'm afraid that nobody here has been trained in recovery. We have a freighter coming next month, so we can take her to the Homeworld..."
Tiaris frowned and stomped her foot in the muddy grass. "She has a week before her memories fade and she stays like this forever. Get me in contact with one of those battleships."
"Sorry, but, uhm... I'm not sure we can let an Assistant talk to the bridge of an Accord Navy ship..."
Tiaris blinked, looking around at the doctors and Ministry staff, and realised none of them were taking her seriously. She took a deep breath, reminded herself she was doing what needed to be done, and began to tell a white lie. "I am Talons of Grey, Agent First Class, assigned to Sector 1 of the Accord Homeworld. Who are you to tell me what I can't do?"
The tech went a little pale as the Assistant almost seemed to loom over her, eyes full of a furious intensity. She didn't even bother looking her up, and instead excused herself. "Yes, ma'am, I will get you a comms channel right away."
"Good." Tiaris replied, looking around at the others. "Now, get her ready for stasis and transport."
Before the doctors ferried her Mistress away, allowed herself just a glimpse. The emptiness of Purple's eyes and the straight-backed pose made her shudder, the expression sitting far in the uncanny valley for her. It just wasn't right.
The AAC Claws of Gold was chosen as the craft to transport the VIPs, the useful parts of the pirate wreckage, and a handful of high-value prisoners back to the Homeworld. Accord combat ships were slow to wind up but fast to travel in warp, and the Claws of Gold was an exceptional example of this. It took a day to prepare and charge the warp capacitors for the constellation-spanning trip, but only four to actually make the trip, compared to the six or seven of freighters.
"Hey, uh... Talons of Grey, wasn't it?"
"Hm?" Tiaris looked up from her drink in the ship's cafeteria to see an Assistant standing on the other side of the table. "Sometimes."
"Mind if I sit? I want to ask you something."
"Sure, why not." Tiaris said, taking another swig of her drink. As she wasn't on staff of the ship, there wasn't any restrictions on her, and she found the off-duty cabinet pretty quick. "Not like I have anything else to do."
The Assistant sat down and gave Tiaris's drink a longing look, before clearing his throat. "I'm Tornis, the communications officer of the ship. I want to know what went on down there, before we arrived."
Tiaris chuckled, and tilted her glass towards the other Assistant when she noticed his look. "You can have some. I won't tell."
"No, no..." Tornis replied, shaking his hand. "I'm not allowed when on duty."
"Suit yourself." Tiaris said, downing the rest. "To be honest, I don't know exactly what happened either. Pirates showed up, I stole an ID card, sent an alert then got caught a while before you showed up."
"Ah. That explains why it said the transmission came from one of the guards." Tornis said as he tapped his talons against the table, thinking. "Uhm, also, if you don't mind me asking... I don't understand why a pair of Agents would want to put themselves in that situation."
"Oh, I'm not an Agent." chuckled Tiaris. "Purple is."
The communications officer nodded slowly, confused. "But, if she's an Agent, how did her mind get..."
Tiaris frowned at the other Assistant, suggesting he not finish the question. "We do what we need to do. Now, my turn." Tiaris said, tipping the glass up to pour the last few drops of the drink into her beak. "You're on the bridge, technically third in command in emergencies, yet, you're wearing grey?"
Tornis shifted in a bit of discomfort. "Communications officers have to have the chip. I'm a volunteer, so... they treat me alright, all things considered, even if I'm considered more a part of the ship than a crew member."
"That's one interesting promotion." chuckled Tiaris. Much like Purple's, she thought...
Claws of Purple stumbled out of the pod, took two steps, buckled over, and hurled.
"Oh, um." said Wings of Crimson. "Tiaris, could you... er, get her a bucket?"
Tiaris ignored the tech, running over to grab Purple and hold her up. "Okay, everything's okay. We made it back home." she said, to the groaning Avian. "Come on, we're gonna get you somewhere to lie down..."
"This is a common reaction to a mental restore, don't worry." Crimson said, following the pair as Tiaris helped Purple up onto the hospital bed. "She'll be fine in a few hours!"
Purple groaned again and laid back on the pillow, body aching all over. "Ugh... goddess, just kill me..."
"No, no, not having any of that." Tiaris said, grabbing her Mistress's hand. "You'll be fine. We got them. We won."
"Whatever..." she mumbled, turning her head on the pillow and closing her eyes. "Ugh, it's so bright... go away..."
"It might be best to let her rest for a bit." Crimson said. "You can wait in my office, if you want."
"No..." Tiaris replied. "I'll sit here with her."
"If you insist." replied the tech, switching off most of the lights as she left. "I'll get someone to uh... clean up the floor."
Tiaris sighed, and sat there with her Mistress, holding her hand as she slept. "Everything will be back to normal once you wake up..." she said quietly. "I hope."