The humming whir of an Arcadian gun ship's engines filled the air, echoing across the sky. It was distant at first, but it gradually grew louder, like the rumble of an approaching storm. Samuel glanced at the destruction around him, all the buildings in smoking ruin. A body in a blue lab coat was lying face-first in the dirt a few feet away, blood pooling under him. 

Doctor Cornal was dead as a doornail after he put a three-round burst through the man's back. The coward didn't even have the dignity to face him like a man, instead running for his life. It was a shame, as Samuel would have liked to beat the man to a bloody pulp with his fists. 

He glanced back to the sky, towards the distance alliance ships. With the approaching threat, running into the forest to hide would have been the right move, but if he was being honest, he just didn't care anymore. All of his enemies were dead, and the prison that was the compound was in utter ruin. He should have been happy, fulfilled even, but all he felt was a sense of emptiness. 

A decade of effort had come to fruition, a decade of slaughter, and subterfuge. What was there now? He numbly watched as five Arcadian war machines came into sight, flying low and fast. 

Three gunships loaded with enough firepower to wipe out a small town, and two troop transports with side-mounted rotary cannons. He let out a deep weary sigh and fell to his knees. He tossed his carbine well out of reach, unfastening his gun belt, and tossing it aside as well. Lastly, he placed his gore-spattered hands on his head.

No point in getting shot by itchy trigger fingers. The Arcadians would not be happy about him destroying this secret lab and all of its top-secret data about ancient technologies. 

They were likely to be even less pleased after he killed everyone and destroyed anything of value. The least he could do was give them a small win, by letting them capture him. They had been trying for a long time, and it was not like he had anywhere else to be.

As expected, the Arcadians came in hard and fast, a woman's stern voice echoing from the speakers of one of the gunships.

"Get on your face, and don't move! You so much as move a finger and we will turn you into a meat smoothy!" the woman shouted. 

A bemused smile tugged at his lips as he recognized that voice. 

It was the head of the Doc strike force, a constant hindrance to his plans over the years. For a moment, he pondered on having the module disable those gunships, but the thought quickly faded. He slowly did as ordered, laying face down in the dirt, the heavy rotary wash mostly drowning out the sounds of soldiers repelling down. 

It wasn't long before the thud of boots on gravel filled his ears. Two soldiers leaped onto his back, and he grunted as they forced his arms behind his back. 

His wrists were cuffed hard enough to cut circulation, and he was none too gently dragged to his feet. He was greeted by over two dozen rifles of stern-faced soldiers in full battle rattle. They looked like they wanted to shoot him, but clearly had orders not to. It was a fact that made a smile tug at his lips. 

As expected, a familiar woman stepped out from one of the troop transports. They had never met in person, but he had done a lot of digging on her in order to keep one step ahead.

Faris looked to be in her early thirties, young for someone in her position. She didn't gain her high position solely from nepotism but a fierce passion for the job, and dogged persistence. 

With high cheekbones, sharp jaw, a hooked nose, and an athletic physique, she was quite pretty. Though one look at those intense green eyes, and no-nonsense expression would deter most men. Not to mention she was decked in full battle rattle, a rifle slung across her chest. 

"Farris, to what do I have this honor?" Samuel asked in flawless Arcadian, the soldier's grip on him tightening as he spoke. 

One of them punched him in the side, hard enough to bruise his ribs. He bit his tongue, unwilling to give the soldier the satisfaction of making a sound. 

 "Don't speak unless spoken to," the soldier spat. Samuel winced but got the hint.

Farris eyed his gore-covered combat gear, assessing him head to toe. She said something he couldn't hear into her mic before pulling up her tinted visor.

 "Speak of the devil. It's not like you to linger at a crime scene. Have you gotten sloppy?" Farris asked curiously.

Samuel did his best to shrug, failing due to the two soldiers holding each arm tightly. When that failed he just smiled.

"I figured it was time to finally meet the beautiful Farris Hartigan face to face. There was no one else on my list to kill, and you have been looking for me for a long time. Your dedication to finding me is enough to make a guy swoon," Samuel said, with a cheeky smile. 

She narrowed her eyes distrustfully at him, glancing at the smoking remains of the compound they were in. 

"What are you playing at? Surely you know this won't end well for you. We are going to put you in a hole until we can ship you back to Sol, where you will likely rot in a cell, or be executed for your crimes," Farris said.

Samuel grinned. "A free room, three square meals a day, and no one to bother me. That sounds wonderful. Shall we get going? I'm rather tired, it's been a tiresome day," Samuel replied with a feigned yawn.

She scoffed at his nonchalant attitude.

"We will see if you have the same tune after a few weeks of interrogation. Marvin, take him to the ship and keep four people on him at all times. If he tries to escape feel free to break his legs," Farris ordered.

Samuel gave her one last smile as though he were in charge, just before they dragged him away. 

Before he was stuffed in the back seat of one of the gunships, he could hear Farris shouting out orders. 

"Cordon off the area. I want every inch of the compound scoured. Search everything, if you find anything of note, or anyone alive I want to know immediately!" Farris shouted.

Samuel couldn't help but laugh to himself. They wouldn't find anything, not so much as a scrap of paper, nor a gigabyte of data left. He had made very sure to destroy anything to do with the experiments.

Over the next hours, they flew him god knows where. To make his trip even more enjoyable put a bag over his head and judging by the smell, it wasn't a clean bag either. After they landed, he was thrown into the back seat of a car for several more hours.

By now he was quite lost, no doubt the point of the charade. Though judging by the speed of those gunships and the slow pace of the car, they had to be in one of the nearby cities close to the compound. 

They were likely in Acaron, though he was unsure as they didn't take off the bag. After all the travel, it was a relief when he was finally put in a cell. At least they took off that foul-smelling bag, though the bionetic restraints on his arms and legs weren't so great. As far as things went, it wasn't so bad for a concrete box. A small spring bed, a toilet. A state-of-the-art magnetic field wrapped the steel door in an impenetrable barrier, with not some much as a slot in the door to pass him food. 

The two armed guards waiting outside, and the camera in the corner of his cell were also a good addition. Being visited by a half dozen interrogators over the next week was equally fun.

Samuel almost felt special after all the first-class treatment. They wanted the knowledge he had and he had a lot of reasons not to give it to them. They tried various methods to squeeze information from him, from withholding food to drugging him. Little did they know, the module made all of their efforts futile. 

He had worked far too hard, killing dozens of people all to make sure the details of their experiments in the compound were forgotten. He would be damned if he ruined all his work by spilling the beans to a bunch of Doc interrogators. 

Answering the same questions day after day was getting tiresome, but he found the game of messing with them amusing. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. 

"Where are the files you took from the research base?" asked a buck-toothed interrogator. The sleazy man had offered a name in exchange for his own, but Samuel didn't care about the man's name.

He smiled at the man's question. "Like I told you and your sleaze bag friends the last hundred times, I destroyed them," Samuel said, reclining in his metal chair like it was a soft couch. He could tell his nonchalant attitude irked the man, so he made sure to go the extra mile. 

"You are lying. You wouldn't have destroyed such valuable information," the interrogator insisted, sitting forward in his chair.

Samuel shrugged, his bionetic cuffs rattling softly. "I think you underestimate how far I will go for revenge. I assume you heard about the compound? Well, I destroyed it, killing every member of the staff. I even killed their pet fish for good measure. Do you want to know the best part?" He asked leaning forward. "None of them thought I could touch them. They all thought they could keep me locked up in a cage and experiment on me like a wild animal. Look where that got them. I escaped and killed them all. What makes you think I can't do the same to you," Samuel replied darkly. 

"We are done for now," the buck-toothed man said, turning to leave.

The interrogator did his best to hide it, but Samuel could tell his words had the desired effect. That was one of the perks of everyone thinking he was a psychotic killer. To be fair, their belief wasn't too far off the mark from their perspective. He had killed all those people, but in his defense, they had deserved it.

Not that Arcadian law cared if it was a righteous cause or not. As if to interrupt his wandering thoughts, the magnetic field fizzled out, and the lock keypad turned green. 

Another interrogator, so soon? 

He glanced from where he sat on his bed, his brows rising as Farris walked in, sitting across the table in the center of his small room. She had a thin tan folder in her hands, no longer dressed in her combat gear. All she had was her sidearm, a weapon that could still punch a hole through his chest if he provoked her. Even in more casual civilian garb, she struck a militaristic barring, with her posture. 

"To what do I owe this pleasure? Is this business, or..." Samuel asked, reclining on his bed casually, one leg crossing the other. 

"That blue prison jumpsuit looks good on you," Farris replied dryly, ignoring his insinuation. Samuel laughed. 

"The jumpsuit is quite comfortable, thank you. Just the right level of itchy. I got to hand it to you, your tailor is quite good, this jumpsuit rubs in all wrong places," Samuel replied. 

A faint smile tugged her lips. "Only the best accountants for Doc's number ten top wanted," Farris replied.

Samuel stood, and shuffled to the chair across the table from her, gesturing to the reflective silver Doc badge hanging around her neck.

"You must be happy. You got a new flashy badge for capturing me. Congadulations on the promotion," Samuel said.

Farris stared at him blankly. "What can i say, the Alliance rewards the capture of villainous scumbags like you," Farris replied. 

"Villainous, me? That's such a strong word, I didn't kill anyone who didn't deserve it? How is that illegal?" Samuel asked. 

She scoffed derisively. "Enough with your games Samuel... Those people you killed last week were just doing their jobs. You didn't need to murder them all in cold blood," Farris said.

Anger surged in his chest. Just doing their jobs? They stuffed him in a vat and made him undergo testing for months before they stuffed, that thing inside his head. He had watched dozens before him die, screaming in their vats as they were implanted with the module. 

He took a deep breath, narrowly avoiding a furious retort. This was what she wanted, she was trying to rile him up to get him to spill information. 

Samuel, bit his lip, looking away as if to agree to her point. His apparent agreement seemed to give her confidence as she spoke.

"Since all the others failed to get anything out of you, I'm here to question you," Farris said. 

"Well then, ask away, what do you want to know?" Samuel asked, his smile saying everything. It was clear that she was going to be disappointed. 

Much to his surprise, she pushed the file in her grasp toward him. 

"Read it," Farris said. He glanced from her to the file, his chains rattling as he took it. The file only had a single page inside, the image of an older man with liver spots, his graying hair mostly gone. Samuel raised an eyebrow. 

"Why are you showing me a picture of Donovan Trais?" Samuel asked.

"Because he is at the top of the Doc's most wanted list and I believe you can help us find him," Farris replied. 

Samuel chuckled. 

"And why would I help you with that? As you said before, I am going to rot in this cell until they send me back to the Sol system. I have nothing to gain from helping you. It's better for me to save that kind of juicy information to trade in the future," Samuel said.

Farris gestured towards his uncomfortable-looking bed. 

"I severely doubt you are content with your current accommodations. How about this, you give me some juicy intel on Donovan and I see what I can do to make your stay here more comfortable," Farris said. 

Samuel frowned at the idea, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he just didn't care. It's not like Donovan was a friend or even someone he liked. 

Not to mention, the idea of a comfy bed did sound appealing after sleeping on that lumpy pile of springs for the last week.

Samuel closed the folder and pushed it back across the table.

"Last I saw of him, he was held up in a safe house in the lower east square of Acaron," Sam said. Farris pulled out a notepad and pen.

"He is on Arcadia? What is the address of the safe house?" Farris asked excitement in her voice. 

Samuel smiled.

"Not until you deliver the promised amenities. I want a king-sized bed, a TV with system-wide channels, and clothes that don't chafe," Samuel said, gesturing at his ill-fitting jumpsuit. 

Farris tucked away the folder. "I'll see what I can do, but just know this, if you are lying I will make sure you are downgraded to sleeping in a cardboard box," Farris threatened.

He snorted. "So feisty. No need to resort to threats. Just so we are clear, i'm not saying you will find him at this safehouse, but you will likely get more information on him. He doesn't usually stay in one place for long, but who knows you might get lucky," Samuel said.

After that Farris left, and he was once again left alone in his small cell. 

At first, the peace had been nice, but as the days turned to weeks, he was starting to regret his decisions. He didn't regret destroying the compound, nor killing everyone who experimented on him but he was regretting letting himself get caught. 

In hindsight, it had been monumentally stupid, but at the time he had just killed a whole lot of people and didn't care. Now that he had proper time to think things through, he realized why he felt so empty. It was because he lacked purpose.

After a decade of work hunting and killing his enemies, and now he felt empty. The question was, what to strive for now? The thought made him snort derisively. Even if he did find a new purpose to replace the old, escape would be difficult. He was in a cell, no doubt somewhere incredibly secure, under constant surveillance. 

Sam leaned back on his bed, the mattress creaking. He scratched the beard on his chin, realizing he hadn't shaved since before he was caught. It was quite strange to have his beard so long. 

In his thirty-two years of life, he hadn't let it get this long before. Perhaps a shave was in order. The only problem was that they wouldn't give him something to shave with.

Even when they sent food, he was given eating utensils that were so dull they could hardly do their job. Despite that, he wasn't too bothered.

Samuel glanced up at the camera in the corner, knowing that his every move was being monitored very closely. He was number ten on the Doc's most wanted list, a fugitive of Acadia, and most other planets in the alliance. 

That wasn't for nothing. There was a reason why he had hunted down and killed every single member of the compound. Not only for revenge for the torture they put him through but also to hide what they put inside his head. 

"Module, override the camera,"

"Request received, processing... Override successful," came a dispassionate robotic voice in his mind.

"Module, overlay camera sensory feed with an image of myself lying down to sleep," Samuel said. 

"Processing.... Done," All it took was a second and the camera was effectively disabled. This was his secret weapon. He referred to it as the module, though its proper designation was a string of numbers and letters so long there was no hope of memorizing it. 

The module was a marvel of technology, an AI implanted in his brain. As always, a dull ache filled his head, the cost of using the incomplete module. It always started as a dull ache, that would turn into a splitting headache after too many uses.

"Module, what is wrong with me?" Samuel asked.

"The host is tired, needing approximately six hours of sleep. Muscle density is down three percent in the last four weeks. Would you like the module to create a routine to stop the host from withering away into a useless husk?" it asked.

"No," Samuel replied, letting out a tired sigh. He could swear the module was wording its response in such a way to purposefully urk him. Sometimes it really did seem like it had a personality. But that was just a figment of his imagination.

The module was just an unfeeling piece of advanced technology, something that not even the researchers who found it had understood. From what he had gleamed, they found the module in a debris field orbiting at the edges of Sol system. The researchers thought it might be the wreckage of an alien ship, but from what they could tell the wreckage had been out there for millions of years. 

Humanity had already expanded to multiple star systems by now and hadn't found any further sign of alien life. Not that the public knew about the discovery of some alien tech, nor the fact researchers had been experimenting on people with it. There were always conspiracy theories, but no one knew for certain. And now that the research base was a pile of rubble, with everything and everyone who knew about it killed, Samuel was the only one left who knew of it. 

Well, he supposed the ones who created the AI might know, but he doubted they would come looking for it millions of years later. His train of though, came to a halt as he got an idea.

"Module, find your creators," Samuel ordered.

"Processing.... Access denied. Unable to process the request due to lack of clearance. Command node required," the module replied.

Samuel hummed to himself. That was interesting. The module hadn't said it was impossible to find its creators, but instead said he didn't have sufficient access. 

How about a different angle? 

"Module, find me the command node," Samuel said.

"Scanning..... Insufficient data," the module replied in its dull monotone voice a few seconds later. It had taken longer than usual to process that request, as it scanned the many servers and data links on the planet. If it couldn't find anything, that meant, that what he was looking for was likely not her, or more just as likely, it hadn't been found by humans if it was.

Samuel leaned against one wall of his cell, his mind racing. Perhaps he was just not in range of the command node. Arcadia was one of the less developed planets and did not have nearly as many data banks, or satellites for the AI to piggyback off of. 

If he wanted to find the command node, he would need to go to one of the inner planets maybe the Sol system. The question was, did he want to find this command node? That could be like kicking the hornet's nest, it might even alert its creators that someone was messing with their stuff.

Samuel deemed that extremely unlikely. In his mind, it was worth the risk. A plan was forming in his mind, and the sense of being a drift quickly faded as purpose returned. 

That's right, he had things to do, no time to be stuck in this stuffy cell. 

 The only problem was, that he was in a concrete box, with a magnetic field, and soldiers armed to the teeth just outside his door. A smile tugged at his lips. So what if he was in a secure compound in the middle of nowhere? These people relied on their cameras and electronic security far too much. Even the door lock was electronic. Those were all things that the module could easily deal with. Dealing with those armed guards would be the trickiest part, but he had overcome greater obstacles. Excitement filled him at the prospect of escape.

That's right, he needed to make a plan to escape. As fun as it was to relax in this cozy cell, now that the post-revenge fogg had faded, he realized he still had something to do.

He needed to find the command node. Even if he had intentions of contacting the Module creators, then having more control of the module would be a god send.