As the day wore on and the city's once bustling streets became dim under the setting sun, Vargas found himself back near his starting point. He was frustrated, exhausted, and increasingly worried about the runaway girl. Despite his enhanced speed and endless inquiries, he had found no trace of her, and it gnawed at him. The city felt like a maze, and she was nowhere to be found.
He stopped in a secluded alley and leaned against a wall, catching his breath. His fingers brushed over the Null-inhibitor collar still in his pocket, and he sighed. This wasn't going according to plan.
Vargas pulled out his comm and dialed Nera.
"Hey, Vargas, how's it going? Any luck?" Nera's voice crackled through, hopeful.
Vargas pinched the bridge of his nose, still feeling the dull ache from earlier when he'd crashed into the girl. "No," he replied, his tone laced with disappointment. "She's vanished. Like she was never here."
There was a pause on the other end before Nera spoke again, her voice soft with concern. "You think someone got to her?"
"It's possible," Vargas admitted, his mind running through the possibilities. "Could be anyone—someone who knows what she is, someone who wants her. Either way, I can't leave this unfinished. We're going to be stuck here longer than planned."
Nera sighed audibly. "I'll inform the crew. Should we still keep an eye on Beirut?"
Vargas shook his head, though Nera couldn't see it. "Delay any investigations on Beirut for now. I need to find this girl first. She's a danger if left unchecked, and if she falls into the wrong hands…" He trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. Nera would understand the gravity of the situation.
"Alright," Nera replied. "I'll let everyone know we're staying. Just… don't push yourself too hard. You sound exhausted."
"I'll be fine," Vargas reassured her, though the weariness in his voice betrayed his words. "Get some rest. We'll regroup tomorrow."
"Got it. Stay safe, Vargas."
He ended the call and tucked the comm back into his pocket, staring at the fading lights of the city.
Vargas felt too restless to just call it a night. His thoughts about the runaway girl, the eerie headaches, and the endless fruitless search buzzed through his mind. He needed a distraction. Something to focus on, something to burn off this frustration.
Vargas pulled out his tablet, a sleek, compact device glowing faintly in the dim evening light. He quickly navigated to the Federation's investigation hub, scrolling through various missions and assignments in the area. Most of them were lower-priority cases or something related to local law enforcement—nothing that piqued his interest.
Until one caught his eye.
"Potential Development of Advanced AI Technology in Unregistered Facility—Location: Triton I."
This was a mission that was registered by Beirut. If Vargas could solve it, it would be possible to get into the Investigator's good graces and make the overarching mission significantly easier.
It wasn't his usual specialty, but it was something. He could handle it, even if it wasn't alien-related. The report flagged the facility for unauthorized activity, something about a rogue faction attempting to develop AI tech that could surpass the Federation's regulatory limits. Advanced AI, especially when built without oversight, could be incredibly dangerous—if developed with malicious intent, it could wreak havoc.
Vargas smirked. "Perfect," he muttered, locking onto the mission details. It was off the books, but these were usually the fun ones. Besides, it would keep him busy for a few hours.
He snapped the tablet shut, securing it back into his gear. His mind was already sharpening to the task at hand.
With one swift motion, Vargas flagged down another floating taxi. The same deference was shown as the driver hurried to open the door for him, recognizing his status as an investigator. Vargas climbed in and relayed the location from the mission.
As Vargas traveled toward the outskirts of the city, his thoughts drifted toward the mission at hand and why advanced AI was such a sensitive subject within the Federation.
The Citadel, the main tech faction of the Federation, held an iron grip on all technological developments across human-controlled space. A powerful entity that oversaw the regulation, advancement, and ethical use of technology, the Citadel's influence spanned countless worlds. It had long prescribed strict guidelines when it came to artificial intelligence.
Vargas did not really understand why the Citadel kept such a tight leash specifically in the innovation of AI, but he guessed that it was fear that they would rebel against mankind, based on the movies he watched.
Advanced AI, as described in the mission report, was precisely what the Citadel sought to eliminate. If a rogue faction was secretly building one, they could be breaking multiple laws and put the general populace in danger. The Citadel, for all their advancements, were still stuck in the old ways. They would not hesitate to deploy mechs and bioweapons to completely decimate the population all to get rid of any potential threats.
As an investigator, it was his job to ensure that nothing slipped through the cracks. He'd have to investigate the facility thoroughly, look into any suspicious development, and confirm whether or not this rogue faction was dabbling in forbidden technology.
"Can't let this slip by," Vargas muttered, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't going to allow a potential tech hazard to go unchecked.
Vargas arrived at the edge of the industrial sector, where the Triton I's main industrial nexus was located. Here they would receive Citadel members to aid in the development of resources necessary to run the planet.
Vargas left the taxi, heading to where he noticed a small building.
The building itself was nondescript—just another bland, gray structure tucked away amid rows of factories and warehouses. Workers flooded in and out of the building at various intervals, but there was no sign or warning for trespassers to indicate that there was work being done.
A clear sign of suspicious activity.
Amateurs, Vargas mumbled to himself, staring at the obvious criminal activity.
The city's neon lights flickered above him, contrasting with the dark shadows cast by the towering factories and warehouses. Just to be sure, he activated the tablet, tapping into the encrypted line to contact Nera. After a brief connection, her face popped up on the screen.
"Nera, I need you to check something for me," Vargas began, his tone steady despite the tension in the air.
Nera raised an eyebrow, already sensing another wild goose chase on her hands. "What is it this time?"
"I need you to look up the building logs in the industrial sector of Vandros Prime, particularly any structures at 47.1234 degrees east and 23.5678 degrees north. Focus on anything unusual—locations that seem out of place compared to the rest of the city's architecture."
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Nera's fingers danced over her keyboard as she cross-referenced building data, zoning laws, and recent construction permits in Vandros Prime's industrial zone. The Nyrubu Desert wasn't far from the outskirts of the city—a barren wasteland known for being home to hidden research facilities, smuggling operations, and other illicit activities.
"Got it. Give me a sec," she muttered, her eyes scanning several windows of data streaming across her screen. "Alright… let's see. Most of the buildings here are standard factories, manufacturing plants, and supply depots, nothing too surprising. There should be no building at those coordinates."
Vargas frowned. "Well I am standing here right now, and I see a building right here"
"...Sounds like exactly the kind of place someone might try to hide something illegal,you need a permit and regular inspections done by the Citadel in order to build anything in Vandros Prime.", explained Nera, attempting to counter Vargas' hypothesis.
"The Federation is incomprehensible in scale. It could take decades between Citadel inspections, especially on a random planet that does not have much importance. The ministers and world government will only start strictly enforcing Federation regulations once they get word that a fleet is arriving for inspection".
Nera sighed,"Well you've been at this much longer than I have, so I'll take your word for it. I don't exactly know what you're doing, but be careful"
"I'll manage," Vargas said with a smirk. "Thanks for the info."
He ended the call and glanced back at the building.
Probably shouldn't be too hard seeing as how they're practically advertising for a Bureau investigation.
From his vantage point, crouched atop a nearby rooftop, Vargas could observe everything without drawing attention to himself.
The workday was winding down, and the workers were filing out one by one. They looked like typical laborers—engineers, technicians, and maintenance crews. They wore standard-issue uniforms, carried the usual tools, and moved with a pace that suggested nothing out of the ordinary. But Vargas wasn't fooled by appearances.
He watched carefully, scrutinizing each person who left the facility, his sharp eyes searching for anything unusual. He noticed some workers talking quietly among themselves, their voices low and their movements quick, as if they didn't want to be overheard. That set off a small alarm in his mind.
There were no heavily armed guards, no obvious signs of security beyond the regular patrol drones that floated lazily along the perimeter. That, too, felt wrong. A facility developing advanced AI would typically have tighter security measures—especially if they were doing something illegal.
As the sun dipped lower and the workers continued to leave in small groups, Vargas shifted in his position, pulling out his tablet. He accessed the public network, quickly cross-referencing employee profiles and digging into the facility's history. There was nothing noteworthy, just a typical industrial complex on paper. But Vargas knew better than to trust surface-level information.
He zoomed in on a group of workers walking toward a transport hub. His eyes narrowed as he picked out subtle discrepancies in their behavior. One man kept checking his surroundings, another clutched a data slate tightly to his chest, as if afraid of losing it. None of them spoke. They walked quickly, almost nervously.
he would continue to observe, waiting for the last workers to leave before making his move. He needed to gather more information, and this stakeout was his chance to learn more about the facility's operations. If they were really developing advanced AI, there had to be a trail, a pattern of behavior that pointed to the illegal activity going on inside.
The night deepened, and Vargas remained patient, his senses heightened. He wasn't just watching the workers—he was also listening.
Vargas waited until the last of the workers had exited the facility, leaving the area eerily quiet. His instincts honed from years of experience told him this was the moment to act. He spotted a lone worker struggling to maneuver a large bin filled with what looked like technical components. The worker's attention was fixed on the ground, and Vargas took the opportunity to approach silently.
With a swift, calculated motion, he lunged forward, incapacitating the worker with a precise strike to the back of the neck. The man crumpled to the ground without a sound, and Vargas quickly dragged him behind a nearby storage container, ensuring no one would stumble upon them.
He quickly rifled through the worker's clothes, discarding his own armor and slipping into the uniform. It fit snugly, a reminder of his days before becoming an investigator—those more clandestine operations when he was just another face in the crowd.
Vargas placed his armor into the bin, tucking it away securely. He then attached his Helix Repeater to the side of the bin, ensuring the handle faced inward so it wouldn't be visible to anyone approaching. It was still easily accessible to him, should the need arise.
Adjusting the collar of his new uniform, Vargas took a moment to check his reflection in a nearby window. The outfit was plain, but it would serve its purpose. He looked like any other worker, just another cog in the machine of this sprawling industrial complex.
With one last look around, Vargas stepped out from behind the storage container, ready to blend into the bustling world of the facility. The faint hum of machinery filled the air, punctuated by the distant sounds of workers chatting and equipment whirring. He moved confidently toward the entrance, exuding an air of casual authority that helped him slip past the security checkpoint without a second glance.
Once inside, Vargas kept his head down and his eyes open, scanning for any sign of suspicious activity. He made his way through a series of hallways, passing by workstations filled with screens displaying lines of code and schematics
As he moved deeper into the facility, he noticed more workers hustling about, but Vargas remained focused on his mission. His eyes flicked to a nearby door marked "Restricted Access." The sign alone sparked his interest—if the facility was conducting illicit activities, the restricted area would likely hold the key.
But first, he needed to gather more information. Vargas steered himself toward a break room filled with workers unwinding after their shift. A few casual conversations floated in the air, and Vargas carefully entered the room ready for some questioning.
He focused on two employees seated at a table, their plates filled with unappetizing grayish food.
Still in uniform, Vargas approached the two.
"Did you hear about the new project?" he asked one of them, a tall man with dark circles under his eyes.
"You new around here?", the man asked, staring at Vargas suspiciously.
"Yeah, I just joined the other day. Still on sanitation duty", Vargas answered, smiling warmly. He dispensed some credits to a nearby machine, unloading two cups of coffee.
He took one for himself and handed the other drink to the man, still smiling warmly.
"Thanks newbie. The name is Craig", the introduced himself taking a warm sip of the coffee.
"So whats happening around here. The job description was saying we're treating industrial waste".
Craig pointed to an empty seat at the table, indicating Vargas to sit. After fixing himself, Craig leaned over to Vargas, trying his best not to talk too loud.
"They doing AI integration. Yeah, but it's supposed to be top secret. We shouldn't even be discussing it," whispered Craig.
"Come on, everyone knows what's happening. They're pushing for a fully autonomous system. It's illegal! The Citadel has made it clear," the other worker at the table said, his voice laced with a mix of excitement and fear.
Shhh, hushed Craig, looking around at the other workers in the lounge.
Vargas's pulse quickened. This was exactly what he needed to hear. He leaned in closer, careful not to draw attention to himself.
"Yeah, but you know what they say about the Citadel's laws—there's always someone willing to break them for a profit. I heard they're testing it out in the restricted area,"Craig whispered.
"Testing it? That's insane! If anyone finds out…" Vargas trailed off, a look of false dread crossing his face.
"Right? But the payout is huge. They think they can control it. Just imagine the power they could have if they pull this off!" the second worker exclaimed, eyes gleaming with ambition.
Vargas's mind raced. If they were developing a fully autonomous AI, it could pose a severe threat to the Federation. This wasn't just a case of illegal technology; it was a potential catastrophe waiting to happen.
With the details from the conversation in mind, he decided it was time to make his move. He couldn't just stand idly by; he needed to gather evidence of the illegal AI development.
As if answering his prayers, the bell rang signaling all workers to get back to their stations.
Saying their last goodbyes before exiting the room, the workers left Vargas alone in the lounge as he pretended to clean up after them.
He wheeled the bin out of the break room and back into the main corridor, carefully making his way toward the restricted area.
Navigating through the facility's labyrinthine hallways, he kept his senses sharp, listening for any signs of security personnel or additional workers. The closer he got to the restricted area, the more his instincts tingled with anticipation.
He finally reached the door marked "Restricted Access." Vargas paused, taking a deep breath as he examined the entrance. A security panel buzzed faintly beside it, requiring an access card to enter.
With a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, Vargas recoiled his fist feeling the Aera flow through it. With a single punch he smashed the card reader, forcing the door to unlock.
Vargas did not have the technical expertise like Ralo, requiring him to use more barbaric methods to access different systems.
Now he had to act fast before someone discovered the broken door.