He found himself at the mission site, one thousand four hundred and forty-two Tiks ahead of schedule. In any case, it was better to be well in advance: any delay would be a failure that would be severely punished on his rating as an agent.

Despite one side of space being darker than the other, he was now at a less worrying distance from the “I” zone. Consulting his navigation tab, he learned more about his surroundings.

This zone was closed to colonization, or even to travel. In any case, there were only a few viable planets in this area and no colonial or tourist agency could hope to prosper in the long term near an area with such a sinister reputation… Although: perhaps a tourist industry could be successful?

In any case, this zone was open to another type of traveler: convicts. There, at the edge of the universe, the worst elements of society were sent to serve their sentences by working in decent but depressing conditions, far from any possibility of escape. There were also special blocks, protected by myriad defenses, where the worst criminals were kept in stasis, sometimes for life.

Well, he had about ten minutes to wait... He could go visit the hold... anyway, he could be teleported to his seat at will, so...

But, no: the feverishness that had taken hold of him left him no leisure. His first mission... What was it going to be? Help negotiate a compromise between two nations? Inspect officials from distant worlds? Question ordinary passers-by to gather information about their problems, try to help them and get their opinions on possible improvements to society? His mission could be anything of that ilk. Given the location, perhaps it would be escorting an important prisoner from one cell to another, or to a physical place of judgment or release?

At the same time, it was the work of the law enforcement, not administrative agents… Unless the convoyed person was a politician? Maybe…

Ah, there was no point in wondering.

Libre got up from his seat and started to pace up and down like a caged chaotiun… Many ordinary citizens, in such cases, are content to take a calming pill. However, his Homtest philosophy did not allow him to resort to an artificial means of controlling his emotions: he was supposed to be able to do so by the sheer force of his will… But maybe he didn’t want to exercise it, deep down? Maybe he wanted to let himself be jostled by this stress, this impatience, all these hectic emotions that made him live in the present moment, rather than feeling detached from it?

He jumped as the alert indicated the imminent end of the deadline. In less time than it takes to write it, he found himself in his chair, summoned as many screens and virtual keyboards as possible in order to have everything he needed at hand whatever the request… then he waited. The deadline passed…

The worry returned: had he gotten excited for nothing? Was he going to have to wait here for several days before receiving his mission? And then, why hadn’t he been given more details? No briefing. Just, welcome, go ahead, wait.

No way, he was nevertheless a class alpha+! That meant he was one of the smartest people in the universe… even if there were a lot of them in an infinite population. All the same, the least you could do when dealing with an agent of his class was to inform him. Or…

Maybe it was a test? Yes, to see if he had the nerve to withstand anything... Or else...

Yes, the principle of hazing was strictly forbidden by administrative laws. However, high-ranking agents were slightly above the law, which also meant that some protections might not apply to them, as long as the exception remained reasonable. He had to be ready for anything!

Finally, a message appeared.

Priority Mission

Proceed with the transshipment of the luggage that will be delivered to you. Deliver it to the indicated point. Please move while applying the rules of stealth.

The instructions accompanying the summary message said little about the nature of the goods, but also indicated the presence of a Hogloo mercenary assigned to watch over it. The codes were compliant with high-level encryption, and Libre had them triple-checked through different Network relays. It was a bit overzealous, but if this was a test, he might as well follow the most idiotic details of the security procedure.

Libre looked at the coordinates and other instructions adjacent to the message. It was useless since the software would process these long strings of symbols itself, but by doing so he felt like he was managing to delve a little behind the scenes of this mission, in the hope of extracting some bits of information from it.

A proximity alert screen indicated the arrival of an unidentified ship, while indicating that it was emitting the correct signal for the mission. Before he could even think about it, the onboard computer provided him with an image of the approaching craft.

Ah, it was only in the movies that heroes pressed a bunch of buttons, turned steering wheels to skim obstacles in extremis, or aimed before firing… Modern technology had definitely taken all the romance out of adventure.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

He frowned. The approaching ship was an old model, obviously modified to increase its stealth and the power of its shields. Despite this, it had gaping holes in its hull. A communications screen suddenly opened on the reptilian face of a Hogloo warrior.

“I am Khajraz. I bring you the goods. Hurry up and transfer before this wreck explodes!”

The administrative agent grimaced. The Hogloos were declared enemies of the Administration and made no effort to appear otherwise. Yet, they continued to be used massively as mercenaries for their reliability and their respect for contracts. However, it was doubtful that a mission involving them would concern anything particularly secret… apart from an assassination perhaps.

He gave his computer authorization to proceed with the transshipment then manually activated the communication key to project his image and a message to his temporary colleague.

“Administrative Agent Libre Lhom, level alpha+, well received. Procedure initiated. Please find attached the temporary teleportation-on-board code.”

“I’ll go with the goods, just point the way if you don’t want me to accidentally pry into your dirty little Hom secrets.”

Yeah. He understood perfectly well that his people were hereditary enemies with this kind of guy.

The loading took little time. It consisted of three enormous tubes wrapped in stealth packaging. Following the operation via camera, Libre was able to discover what his hold looked like. It wasn’t particularly exceptional. He then monitored the Hogloo’s journey to the cockpit, putting most of his surveillance software on the spot: this kind of individual could well leave biological micro-cameras or other monstrosities in his path, intended to spy on the Administration… Unless they had thought to forbid that in their contract, of course, but it was better to be excessively cautious rather than too naive.

When he entered the room, the Hogloo gave him an amused grin. He was probably thinking of a thousand and one ways he could kill him with the greatest of ease… Libre instinctively double-checked that his softwares had indeed perceived the threat and where ready to activate all his defenses if necessary. That was the case, of course.

“So, you’re the one they sent for the transport? I was told he was a recruit: so, hurry up and gain experience and get us out of here!”

The Hom struck a pose he considered confident, one hand at his side and the other against his jaw, his fists clenched. With calculated arrogance he retorted:

“You should not underestimate me: we’re already not here anymore.”

With a theatrical gesture, he pointed at the screens which suddenly displayed a different landscape, with more stars.

“There is sometimes a slight delay in the update of the scenery, especially when you perform several consecutive teleports. I haven’t forgotten that the mission requires stealthy movement and I am therefore applying the corresponding procedure.”

The Hogloo did not seem disturbed but headed towards the navigation console in order to observe the nearby space. He did not seem satisfied:

“This will not be enough: they will catch up with us. Take these coordinates and navigate in normal space through this nebula... Oh... Too late… This is not a good turn of events...”

Although not looking any more worried than before, the mercenary pointed to the sudden appearance of a hundred spaceships within firing distance of the ship. The Hogloos were the most dangerous warriors in the universe and did not fear death: his apparent calm was not reassuring.

Libre checked his screens to find that his defense systems, of course, had already gone into action. Computer algorithms were running to predict every action and event, the shield was at its maximum, the thrusters were ready for emergency use, the weapons were just waiting for an order from him… Pilots in the modern era were decidedly reduced to system validators, systems who could do perfectly well without them…

Even if it was not a very heroic role, it was still the most important of roles: you couldn’t let implacably logical machines make the crucial decisions.

Pushing back the stress that threatened to cloud his logic, Libre considered the situation. He could teleport by destroying the enemy jamming systems, but his trail would be easy to follow. He could distance them by using his thrusters, but first he would have to break their formation, which meant triggering a confrontation. Even if they were pirates or rebels, they would think twice before attacking a ship like his, issuing an alpha authorization. It was very likely that they would seek to negotiate first.

A request for access to a communication channel confirmed his theory. He took an inspired pause and accepted that the communication exchange could be done in both directions.

His interlocutor was a sort of blue jellyfish that floated in the air, waving its tentacles to match its words with gestures. A quick glance at a side screen told him that it was a Monuite, that they speak through a gas exchange system compatible with the universal translator and that they can project clouds of neurotoxic gas.

Although most of its species don’t consider it necessary to wear clothing, this one was wrapped, like a kind of sandwich, in a uniform of the Administration, Security Institution, Sub-Institution of Order, Prison Department. Rank of administrative agent alpha-.

“To the suspicious vessel, order not to change its movement and to deactivate its systems. And identify yourself!”

Members of the Administration, not pirates? It seemed both more logical in this area, but also terribly worrying: what misunderstanding could have arisen?

“This is administrative agent Libre Lhom, alpha+ authorization. I am on a special mission as you can read in my authorizations: what is the reason for this blockade?”

“I... One moment... I have just contacted my superiors: I have obtained authorization to board you as part of my investigation. Two administrative representatives of alpha+ level will be on site soon to authorize the search.”

During their exchange, the computers worked intensely, exchanging complex identification codes and requesting confirmations via the Network. Half-comprehensible summaries appeared on screens. Apparently, those in front were indisputably what they claimed to be and they had obtained valid confirmations from their superiors… His own remained unanswered for the moment.

His right hand opened and closed in a nervous tic. This was not normal: even for Zeta-category citizens, there was always at least one A.I. to deal with the matter. And it was impossible for a mission to be given without being referenced beforehand… Yes, there was something worrying, but the problem would soon be solved by the colleagues of his own level who were about to arrive…

“We told you not to change your speed! Stop accelerating immediately. We could be forced to open fire on your thrusters if you continue! I have already received the authorization.”

“What do you mean? I'm moving forward? Huh?”

Indeed, the thrusters indicated a progressive acceleration. The order of magnitude was quite low, but they were ready to exponentially multiply this speed for a possible dam forcing. He opened a control screen and manually cut the thrusters.

And then, all hell broke loose!