Cloak & Dagger The Assassins' Guild - Week 2 News

Saturday, 2 February

[06:28 AM] Something strange is going on with Fluffy Immurderglobulin (I really need to hire a codebreaker)
Fluffy Immurderglobulin reports:


[09:36 AM] Spirk leaves empty handed after waiting for Mad Mathmmo in a Box
Spirk reports:

Having found Mad Mathmmo in a Box's year and subject, I know that she should have a lecture today at 10, so I waited outside her staircase from 9:30 to 10 hoping to kill her but she didn't show up.

[12:00 PM] Norman the Magnetically Ailed (Nathan McKeown-Luckly) has more than just magnetic ailments to worry about, courtesy of Schrodinger's Cat

[15:35 PM] P.K (Priscilla Kung) finds Rayne, Cleric of the Order of Water to be far more prepared than expected, especially for a cleric of all classes...
Rayne, Cleric of the Order of Water reports:

A knock on my door. My heart slowed, my training kicking in. Someone here to kill me. Or maybe just my friends checking up on me after a rough morning? I opened the door a tiny amount, and a blade swung through the opening, narrowly missing me. Force pressing against the door, I stepped back and let it swing open, using my would-be assassins momentum against them, wresting their weapon from their hands. Shutting the door, I planned my next move. My assassin, now weaponless, was mere metres from me. I retrieved my trusty blaster and my lightsaber (a prop lightsaber I have). I opened the door, concealing my weapons, and threw her sword onto the floor. As she picked it up, I stepped out, gun and lightsaber ready. After a brief standoff, a gunshot ended the conflict. My first assassin was dead. More will come soon.

Sunday, 3 February

[12:30 PM] The brave and fearless Han Solo (Valentin Foley) is not paranoid enough to spot a deadly Combatty Wombatty
Combatty Wombatty reports:

Sometimes, it all happens so fast.

You turn up in a strange city, knowing nothing but some unfamiliar names from some unfamiliar locations. Maybe you briefly look into a couple of them, but they are killed and replaced long before you feel able to do anything about it. You think very little of it and try to forge a routine in this crazy place, and as soon as you begin to entertain the notion of making a move, you are butchered. And then again and again and again.

You start to get used to this nightmare, but wonder if there's more. Names become more familiar to you. You begin to get a taste for blood, blood that isn't your own. Maybe you kill a couple of small fry, a couple of people who remind you of who you used to be. But they're not you anymore. You find company, others much like you. Or rather, company finds you. The proverbial tap on the shoulder, as it were. You are still terrified and so, so disposable compared to them, but they see a passion in you. You aren't sure what this is, but they seem to know. You trust them. You feel you have to trust someone.

You go many nights without being murdered in your dreams.

Your bloodthirst becomes more acute. You are perfectly capable of murder, but it doesn't feel quite right. Not unless they're also like you. Not unless they're also hunting people like you. You can avoid them, but can you defend yourself? What will you do when there's nowhere to run? You often feel like you're back where you were when you first arrived here. When the nightmares began. Helpless. Where any and every mistake could cost you your life.

But you keep on going. Your mind can never go back. This is your life now, and ultimately it's become your personality. You let your fear drive you onwards, spurring you on to do something more. Something... satisfying. Something rewarding.

You wake up. The dreams have stopped, for now. You check your device, scream, drop it and would have hugged the nearest person if anyone could still bear to be around you. Unexpectedly, you have the right kind of task ahead, and it's come at the right time.

Your dreams have prepared you for this, but not trained you. You need a plan worthy of your target. You fashion a disguise, gather some critical information and find a place to lie in wait. It comes so naturally nowadays, yet it's never been so real. You have an hour, and you unavoidably begin to start dreaming once more.

You snap back to reality, and there's a dead M.A. on the floor. You've done it. You've made it all the way here, and so quickly as well.

You carry on dreaming. This is far from over.

Han Solo reports:

You know, I like to consider myself a fairly well-established profiteer in this corner of space. So there was no way I wasn't going after this information-dealing prize when it was offered. Galaxy-wide deals to track people down, and diplomatic immunity into the bargain? Sign me up. I didn't bother to look to close at who was behind the curtain. Payment is payment, and I sure could use it.

Only, it wasn't as easy as all that. Between finishing up on a few of my old contracts and trying to get the Falcon in running order for long-distance travel, the rest of the pack seemed to have gotten a pretty good headstart on me. I was ready to go.

But you can't be ready for everything. No matter your plans, no matter your instincts. Sometimes history has a way of catching up to you. And then all you can do is run.

So I went to ground for a few days. Waited for the ion storms to pass. Lando knew a nice little place, a tiny trade moon, barely more than an asteroid. His "safehouse" was less a house than a lead-lined hole in the ground. But it did feel safe.

Once things had settled and it was safe to set off again, I drew up my plans. We'd swing through the markets, stock up for a long-haul journey, and plot a course to somewhere with connections. I already had ideas, information. I'd been waiting too long. I wanted to get out and do something.

I knew there were others after the same prize, knew there'd be competition. But not here. This little moon would never be able to support more than one big fish. Word got around too fast. And even if anyone here did fancy themself a competitor, they wouldn't know I was a threat to look at me. Sure, a few might know my name. But they wouldn't know my face to pick me out of a crowd. I just had to keep a low enough profile, not look like I was on the run from anything, not look too scared. We'd be out of here soon.

Famous last words, huh?

I knew there was someone behind us, but they didn't look like a threat. Turning to stare would just make me look like I knew I was a target - besides giving them a clear look at my face if they had happened to see the bounties posted on me - but from the glances I got, they seemed to clear-cut to be trouble. Nice clothes, all clean and new. Probably an up-and-coming merchant, seeing the sights. They didn't belong here, in a dirty little market like this. But that just meant that they wouldn't know me, wouldn't recognise me.

Then the first one got me. You know, of all the times I've been jumped, it's never been by a swarm of porgs. I don't even know how you'd train those things. But they knocked me down, bit me half to death, and even made off with my blaster, all while this smooth-talking merchant gave me some warning about staying out of the real contenders' way, about lowlife scum, about how did I really think the Empire would ever work with someone like me.

Lando just laughed. At him, at me, at the whole situation. Bought me a drink and got me patched up. Asked what we'd do, whether I wanted to find this guy's ship, whether our plan was still on. But I thought it was pretty clear. I was no state merchant, nothing wealthy or respectable, and no good at orders. I wasn't what the Empire wanted as a winner. There was no way they'd let me see this one out.

Well, to hell with this whole contest, then. If you can't join them, beat them. I can't compete with corporate-sponsored merchants on my own, but I can sure as hell make life harder for them. Maybe the Rebel Alliance will have a place for scum like me.

[19:30 PM] Socialy Fun Time!
The Shadow Broker reports:

Social at the Eagle! Despite having a table in the depths of the maze, everyone found us (at least no-one has e-mailed me saying they couldn't) and many fun stories from the archives and fun ideas for killing people came up! And it took over an hour for it to come close to devolving into a shooting spree but obviously this could only go so far being in a pub after all.... Thanks to everyone who showed up for a fun evening! :D

Monday, 4 February

[12:00 PM] Mad Mathmmo in a Box looks for Sontaris but finds only food of mixed quality
Mad Mathmmo in a Box reports:

The Mad Mathmmo in a Box is quite mad with themself today. They were attempting to understand a particularly obscure proof, but what they had read so far just didn't make sense.

"The proof is trivial and as such left as a practice for the reader. "

Trivial my bodily cavity that my species traditionally cramps thing, they thought. Bored. They decided to go for a Twitch.

They navigated their box into the inside of a space urchin and decided to eat out of its reproductive gland.

"Do you have my fish?" They asked.

The fish repositioned itself onto their plate.

"Yes. Do you have my money?"



Smoothest counter-proof of Hypothesis 3 of the year.

The Mad Mathmmo, frustrated by both the proof and the foorp, decided to rebuild their confidence interval by going over a meticulous proof of previous Lemmas, a thing they recently became quite good at in IB Gender Fluid Dynamics.


The second attempt on foorp was worse. And as they idly chewed away roasted Caufield, they thought they had discovered a truly marvellous proof of this proposition which this urchin is too narrow to contain. They hastily headed to their box, for it was bigger on the inside, only to find that their proof was faulty.

On a completely unrelated note, ya all need to try the [REDACTED EGG DISH] at [REDACTED FOOD PLACE].

[15:44 PM] Rocket Queen encounters a LEOkiller lookalike
Rocket Queen reports:

15:44-16:05 on LEOkiller. Not him. No weapon was used.

[16:15 PM] Schrodinger's Cat puts an end to St Petersburg (Abdirahim Ahmed)
Schrodinger's Cat reports:

I killed St Petersburg outside his room around 4.15pm, on one of the rare occasions he happens to be in his room

[16:38 PM] Another attempt foiled by ghastly entry mechanisms. This time it's Minnie Mouse who leaves Martinus Martinus's colony disappointed

[18:05 PM] Rayne, Cleric of the Order of Water's quick relflexes save them from an ambush by Flipendo! In the bonus bean room as they made to commune with the water spirits
Rayne, Cleric of the Order of Water reports:

A mere few days after my last encounter, another assassin came to me. A man going by the name [REDACTED] was standing outside my door as I opened it to go for my shower, and trying to kill me with some sort of fluffy contraption. Luckily for myself, my hands were in the way, and he merely got my arms before I closed my door again. After a long standoff, he decided to head home and leave me be in the safety of my room. I look forwards to a rematch in which I can be better prepared.

Tuesday, 5 February

[10:54 AM] With Mickey away on Gummi Ship adventures, Minnie Mouse keeps herself entertained by practicing her gladius combat on Dereth Mojo (Zac Bischoff)
Minnie Mouse reports:

I Minnie Mouse successfully killed Dereth Mojo with a gladius outside the [REDACTED] lecture theatre just after his lecture finished

[13:33 PM] Minnie Mouse's quest continues, this time she finds a key to gain access to Martinus Martinus (Julian James)'s colony and shows no mercy
Minnie Mouse reports:

I'm very pleased to report my second kill of the day! At 13:33 today I Minnie Mouse returned to [REDACTED COLLEGE] to attempt to rectify my failing yesterday. After borrowing my contact's key, I was able to enter my target's staircase and knock on Martinus Martinus' door. While he valiantly attempted to defend himself with a pen, it was no match for the long reach of my gladius, and Julian was slain.

Martinus Martinus reports:

I have been killed by someone at [REDACTED COLLEGE]

Wednesday, 6 February

[00:44 AM] The Operative looks to ursurp The Shadow Broker (Andrew Browne), but The Shadow Broker doesn't even realise what has happened
The Operative reports:

I was perusing one of the finest night clubs of the central planets when I came across The Shadow Broker. He was unarmed. I thought it wise to eliminate this powerful individual, the alliance considers him a major threat. Thus I stabbed him with my knife. The allied planets are a little bit safer now [That's what you think... TSB].

The Shadow Broker reports:

It had been a while since he had entered the Citadel, and The Shadow Broker had befriended one of the two top agents that Scarlet and Atticus had put him in contact with, The Operative.

He knew that this man had other allegiances (of course nothing was going to escape this information network), but these had been judged to be harmless, and the benefit of having The Operative as one of the Broker's main agents was thought to outweigh any risks, especially as the Broker's network had more than enough ways to retaliate should he step out of line.

So the Broker had been curious about an activity called clubbing for a while. Obviously, not having encountered another human in the dimension-scape, he had never experienced such common things. And so he made plans to meet The Operative in a more specialist club that would be more to his tastes than many others he had researched.

This was a strange feeling – was it terror, excitement, nausea? It was the most human the Shadow Broker had felt since arriving in the Citadel. No playing games and manipulating people to his will, just some honest fun, without wearing any masks as he did in daily life.

He arrived a bit late and so didn't have to queue. "What's ID?" he asked the guard, showing the only thing he had brought with him that had an image (obviously with a fake identity) which, while not normally sufficient, was enough for the bouncer so he entered and quickly found The Operative along with some friends.

He didn't even notice that he had been stabbed immediately, he just felt a slight phase-shift but attributed this to excitement. It was only when he went to the toilet that he noticed a slight pain, and a rather odd wound, almost as though a knife had just popped into his body and popped right out again. It wasn't something that some rudimentary first aid couldn't solve.

The Operative's reaction to seeing him again later in the night was all the confirmation that the Broker needed to know who it was who had tried to kill him. But he simply smiled and kept dancing, and they enjoyed the rest of the night, The Operative unaware that the Broker was going to immediately plan some light retaliation upon his return to the safehouse to remind The Operative who really was in control…

[11:58 AM] Spirk (Simon Crane) falls to Rocket Queen who sends what must be the strangest report I have ever seen
Rocket Queen reports:

A few weeks before:

Me: @Isomorphism @P @I @N @K @Y

Me: ⊙⊙

Isomorphism: ?

P&I&N&K&Y: ……

Me: @#$%^&*()

Isomorphism: ~

1-2 weeks before:

Isomorphism: !

Me: ?!

Isomorphism: S**** -> M*****

P&I&N&K&Y: +!

1 week before:

Me: ?

Isomorphism: ~

P&I&N&K&Y: :)

Yesterday afternoon:

Isomorphism: ?

Me: !

P&I&N&K&Y: ⌒⌒

Yesterday night:

Isomorphism: (1)∪(2)∪(3) ?

Me: [(1)∪(2)]∩ (4)

Today 10 am:

Isomorphism: ?

Me: √

Isomorphism: ~

Today: 10: 40 am:

Me: ?

Isomorphism: ""

Me: ~

Isomorphism: !

Me: !!! TAT

Isomorphism: ……

Isomorphism: ?

Me: ~

Today: from 11:46am-12: 10am:

Isomorphism: ?

Me: ~

Isomorphism: ~

Me: !!

Isomorphism: !?

Me: ……

Isomorphism: ~ !, >>>>!

Me: ~

Me: >>>>

Me: ……

Spirk: !

Spirk: ?

Me: ~

Spirk: √

Me: >>>>

Me: !

Isomorphism: !

Isomorphism: ""

P&I&N&K&Y: !! :)

[16:46 PM] I know who my favourite CoP is now xD Taserface takes down the wanted The Operative (Sam Sully) in a duel

[17:00 PM] He may be deadly, but Sir Isaac Newton, the deadliest son of a bitch in space needs to work on his punctuality, reporting his kill of Elara (Amelia Rout) too late
Sir Isaac Newton, the deadliest son of a bitch in space reports:

I noticed Elara leaving the [REDACTED BUILDING]. I followed her a short distance and shot her.

[19:55 PM] Mad Mathmmo in a Box's attempts to erase The Operative are unsuccessful as he was still dead at the time
Mad Mathmmo in a Box reports:

CATAM debugging log:

> > Compiling...

> > An error occurred.

> > The Operative command status file CORRUPTED.


> > Rollback initiated...

> > An error occurred.

> > The Operative command system already OFFLINE.

[21:45 PM] Tired of being the butt of jokes, Your Mum takes out her frustration on StormPilot, but is too quick to do so, and not informed of this
Your Mum reports:

I killed StormPilot outside [REDACTED] soc with a highlighter knife

The Shadow Broker reports:

Both parties are going wanted as a result of this encounter:

Your Mum did not wait the required two minutes after a society before stabbing StormPilot, however StormPilot's reaction lead Your Mum to believe her attack was a success and so the news of a dispute was a total shock to her. Mis-leading assassins in this way is also against the rules. Even if unsure of the rules, you should let an assassin know that there might be cause to dispute a kill before parting ways.

Thursday, 7 February

[12:08 PM] I'm starting to question if Idiot of Parameters Unknown is really an idiot, they made short work of Elara (Amelia Rout). That or combat effectiveness and intelligence are not necessarily related
Idiot of Parameters Unknown reports:

I've been lazy. Or rather, unsuccessful.

My colleague and I have had no less than 6 (six) attempts to prove Hypothesis Sontaris, which seems like it should be fairly trivial, and gotten basically nowhere. This morning I managed to prove a lesser theorem in a similar field, Hypothesis Elara, which I'd hoped would give me some insight into proving Hypothesis Sontaris, but sadly the result seemed fairly useless since it was so isolated. More research needed, it seems...

[19:07 PM] An excellent display of firepower from Your Mum (Sarah Royle) sees her take down both CoPs - The Operative (Sam Sully) and Taserface (Sean Gebbett) - but sadly it's not quite enough and Unit 012 ends her life. What a way to go!
Unit 012 reports:

I remember waiting for some time, watching after finding the target to be away from their primary residence.

I remember there being talk of 'hall'.

I remember once again being under-armed.

I remember thinking that I'd need to start carrying my own weapons rather than letting the organisation provide me with them.


I remember standing watch for some time.

I remember meeting my ally, the one who I had assisted with a knife thrown from a balcony.

I remember following in one individual who turned out to be a known ally of the one involved.

I remember that I was not authorised for collateral.

I remember having a lengthy conversation about... well, it felt like 'everything'.

I remember spending a long time wondering if I was talking to the target. A LONG time.

I remember that eventually, she opened a door that was not the target's and I was satisfied.

I remember returning to my ally, who was joined by the one I had assisted him kill... the one I remembered throwing a knife at from above.

I remember that this 'operative' was back in the good graces of the shadow broker.

I remember pointing to one I believed was the target as they entered the staircase and the operative went to check.

I remember the operative running out of the building, mentioning that our cover was blown and drawing his weapon.

I remember that I felt rather underarmed for dealing with the high power plasma pistol that poked around the corner.

I remember the operative slamming the door to use as cover, then, as the target fled, he and taserface pursued.

I remember following, trying to keep my head down and passing the one I had elected not to deem 'acceptable collateral' earlier.

I remember...

I remember getting up the stairs just in time to see the operative declare one person to be an accomplice and shoot them before a stream of plasma killed him.


Yes, he would.


Another independent thought? Another thing more than a memory? He'd have to correct that. He needed to devote all attention to the objective.

I remember retrieving a weapon from the operative, scooping 3 bullets from the floor around us as Taserface took a bolt of plasma to the chest and I was forced to weave sideways to avoid similar.

I remember that enough was enough...

I remember the enemy had the high ground, a defensive position on it and a superior weapon for these close quarters

I remember that what I had in my hands was a 'disruptor'

I remember being particularly proficient with this weapon

I remember that it was still close.

I remember a stream of plasma firing from a dead woman's pistol even as my own slug round removed her head. Plasma that crippled me, leaving me unable to move a single limb until the organisation's Lazerus bots kicked in and I began to regain sensation.

I remember being rather impressed with the way that this individual had defended themselves...

But I am Unit 012, instrument of the Shadow Broker's will

And failure is a rare occurrence.

I remember boarding Harbinger as I saw the shadow broker's agents move in to collect and resuscitate the dead.

That brings me to the present, so I remember no more.

Friday, 8 February

[08:00 AM] The inco-bash is coming...
The Shadow Broker reports:

It sure has been an eventful couple of weeks in the Citadel, the Shadow Broker thought as he made about perfectly innocent business. Some have shown real promise so far, some died very quickly, and others discovering just how deadly the Broker's information network could me. He smirked when he remembered that he too was among such numbers.

But not everyone has lived up to expectations so far. He recalled Scarlet telling him that the people who she was to contact were among the finest in the galaxy, and one of them would most certainly be able to help them in their campaign. This had certainly proven true of some so far. Idiot of Parameters Unknown had got the Broker questioning his title and working hard at estimating parameters to see once and for all if they really were an idiot, Minnie Mouse had shown that innocent female mice can be as deadly as supersoldiers, and Schrodinger's Cat was taking a lot more interest in human affairs than cats were known for, to the Shadow Broker???s pleasant surprise.

Others, however, had done nothing at all, such that the Broker was beginning to wonder if they had actually been contacted at all. And so he decided to give Scarlet a call.

"Hello", she answered. "How are you finding things in the Citadel so far?"

"I've very much enjoyed it", the Shadow Broker replied. "As much as I could research it in the dimension-scape, seeing it for real is something else. There's so much life here, so much happening."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it. But I assume you are calling for other reasons."

"That is correct. A number of those who you have contacted and who claim to have responded are not acting on your instructions. I grow tired of waiting. I would like to propose we start to eliminate them all."

"Oh…" Scarlet replied, clearly not expecting such a reaction. "I can assure you that we used the best resources we had to select only those who could be of use"

"I don't doubt that. What I do doubt is the commitment to our cause and willingness to act of some of these. If they are not going to demonstrate their credentials to us, I suggest the best way forward is for us to test them ourselves."

"That does seem like a fair suggestion. Those who truly could be of use to us will prove themselves in the end. Perhaps some do just need a bit more of a push than others."

"In two days I shall broadcast their details to all others then, and prepare our operatives to test them also. This should make things a bit more interesting"

"Indeed, and I suppose I shall refrain from trying to claim any moral high ground being the one to suggest this selection procedure in the first place"

"I would hope so" the Shadow Broker laughed.

After some brief pleasantries, he hung up, and arrived at the safe house. I suppose it is best to send them a warning, just to keep them on their toes, he thought, and sat down at his computer with a cup of hot chocolate and a smile on his face. Things were soon to get a lot more bloody.

[08:30 AM] Many failed attempts to locate Sontaris are making Idiot of Parameters Unknown and Mad Mathmmo in a Box very bloodthirsty
Mad Mathmmo in a Box reports:


I gave 1/10 because the people there are exceedingly arrogant and rude. I was told very bluntly to check out at 9am and requested politely if it's possible to postpone one hour because I had an important assassination. I was told NO and the [REDACTED]'s tone was super rude and blamed me for not checking the info carefully online. I was absolutely shocked by the lack of compassion and basic care!

1/10, will NOT visit again.

Idiot of Parameters Unknown reports:

Sontaris Attempt Log, w/c 04/02/2019

Attempts: 9

'Competent' assassins involved: 2 (myself and Mad Mathmmo in a Box)

Competent assassins involved: 0 Total time spent: ~12 hours each


Times approached by overly secure people: 2

Nonexistent offer holders impersonated: 1

Squirrels seen: SO MANY

Chance encounters with [REDACTED INNOCENT COLLEAGUE]: 3

Early mornings gotten used to after just one week: 1

Vanishing beetle mysteries solved: 0

Times "I WANT SONTARIS' BLOOD" uttered: at least 10

Colleges worse than [REDACTED TINY ANCIENT COLLEGE]: 1, apparently

Stress levels: Through the roof (dome????)


[08:55 AM] The Astrogator finds herself searching for Big T with a gun whose function she doesn't know, and for reasons she won't be told. Something fishy is going on...
The Astrogator reports:

<Astrogator's Log, Entry 0261>

The previous few days had been testing at the best of times, but mentally unbearable at the worst. The scientists and herself were brought back to the Bulwark shortly after the incident with the Shadow Broker, as in Entry 0252. But the Marshal had a full stranglehold on the any power structure within the ship now, and since James had vanished, the various terrestrial Navigators were reluctantly in support of the order the Marshal brought to the bridge, despite the obvious ramifications of having a power-thirsty gun-slinger in charge. Cecy had spent a few evening banging her fists against the wall, to the extent that there was a blossoming mark in the paintwork. She was proud of it. There were plenty of parallels between the messy smudge on the wall and the smirking face of the Marshal; the likeness was only improving with time.

An alert rang out in the Intercom.

"Miss Carrington to Bridge. New exploratory assignment."

She stood up from her bunk and began packing a bag in a resigned manner. He seemed to know more about this planet that was hitherto uncharted by any Thalyssian power than was possible, never mind more than attracted suspicion. The Marshal's face had been a real picture when informed of the Shadow Broker incident, and his left eye twitched, a nervous tic. So, on par in importance with James' disappearance.

When she arrived at the bridge however, she did not expect to be handed a gun.

"This is a Repositor pistol", the Marshal began. "It's a ranged projectile weapon that teleports the target to a predetermined beacon - this one sends my persons of interest to the lower secure-hold of the ship. I want you to target a scientist on the planet of unknown species who's been in contact. It's the safest way of meeting him."

"So I'm expendable then?" snapped Cecy.

"No, you're capable. And the Shadow Broker... this person that calls himself that.. needs to ... see you in action, or he could get hostile."

"What are you talking about? Hostile? See me? What are you not telling me?" It made no sense, here we were at a random corner of the galaxy and he was playing games with a little psychopath in the mist, using her as a pawn.

He strode up to her, uncomfortably close, and breathed quietly.

A looming pause.

"I would like to continue to have an Astrogator on this vessel. Do I make myself clear?"

She left on the transport pod.

The pod landed to the south of the same city they had made first contact in, and Cecy had an address and about 20 minutes before the scientist... did something. No clue what, yet another little piece of info withheld from the person actually carrying out the mission. She rounded the corner to the target building - wait no, this is the other one - Behind here?

The clock was ticking down, and she found herself in a maze of apartment complexes and research buildings. She finally locked down the building, sidled in behind someone who looked more like they were supposed to be there, and was glad to find a lack of security card scanners.

A glance at her watch. Seconds remained.

She bounded up [NUMBER REDACTED] flights of stairs, and knocked on the scientist's door.


Another minute passed. Another knock.


She stood in the corridor for 15 minutes, but there was no sign of anyone. Had she missed him on the way out, or was he leaving early, for whatever-it-was.

On the way out of the complex, head dropped in defeat, she called the Marshal through her watch.

"And?" was the sharp response.

"No-one home.", she sighed.

"Well stay down there. Here's some more details, and another two people of interest. I need someone, Carrington - You'd best not fail me."

Before she could sputter out a protest, he hung up.

It seemed she would be patrolling these misty streets for a while.

<End of Astrogator's Log, Entry 0261>


[On the Ship]

Marshal Dominicus Highlane was angry. And he was worried. He had researched such tenuous links, tiny tidbits of information left all over the galaxy for years to find this man. It was his father's cross, but bless his heart, Dominicus knew his father couldn't carry it any more. So this information network must fall. Getting Cecilia into the selection process had been next to impossible, and now she was days away from peril - and he with less than 48 hours to track him down before his bait was sacrificed like a lamb to some bounty hunter on the surface. He played with the dials a little more, and scanned again.

The fact that Cecy's Repositor currently sent any target to the airlock he'd left open to the vacuum of space was a secret he'd keep for a while longer.

Poor James.

[12:05 PM] The police extend their sincerest thanks to Sontaris for taking out wanted criminal StormPilot (Bethany Holmes)
Sontaris reports:

Today I killed StormPilot who is wanted at 12:05 with a ???knife???.

[16:15 PM] Rocket Queen hunts for LEOkiller and snakes2, but has no luck

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