Vargas walked through the neon-lit streets of the red-light district, his mind still buzzing from the conversation with Ajani. The weight of everything he had learned tonight—the dangers of the null girl, Emilie, and the elusive Imperator Sahaad Abbas—made his thoughts race. As he approached the more quiet residential area, the thumping music from the clubs faded, replaced by the low hum of the city.
He flagged down a local taxi, one of the sleek floating ones that zipped around the city without a sound. As an Investigator, it was easy for him to move around without hassle; the driver immediately recognized his rank and said nothing as the vehicle glided through the night. Within minutes, he was dropped off in front of the luxury skyscraper where he was staying.
Once inside his apartment, Vargas let out a long breath. The room was dark, and the soft lighting from the city skyline filtered through the massive windows. He quickly set his things down, taking off his coat and laying it on the back of a chair. His thoughts returned to Emilie. The girl was still out there, and her being a null made the search even more urgent. There was no telling what she was capable of if left unchecked.
He moved toward his wardrobe, pulling out a set of pajamas—a dark blue set with comfortable fabric that he had to admit was a far cry from his battle gear. Changing out of his inquisitor's armor felt like shedding a layer of tension. The hard, cold metal fell away, replaced by the soft, loose-fitting clothing that almost made him feel human again. He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of how different he felt in this attire.
He approached the large bed in the center of the room, adjusting himself to sink into the mattress of the bed.
Satisfied, Vargas powered off the lights in his room. He lay back in the hovering bed, feeling its gentle hum soothe him. Yet, even with the luxurious comfort surrounding him, his mind remained restless. There were too many unresolved questions. The AI facility, the null girl, the imperators—everything felt interconnected somehow. And the null pylons on Triton, still faintly active, weighed heavily on his thoughts. Were they the key to all of this?
He closed his eyes, letting the gentle hum of the bed and the ambient sounds of the city lull him into a meditative state. His breathing slowed as he attempted to clear his mind, focusing instead on letting the aera in the atmosphere replenish his drained reserves. In the quiet of his mind, he let the day's frustration wash away. Tomorrow, he'd dive deeper into the mysteries of Triton and the null girl.
For now, though, he let sleep claim him.
The next morning, Vargas woke to the soft light of the sun filtering through the blinds of his apartment. The gentle hum of his bed had ensured a restful sleep, but his mind snapped to focus almost immediately. Today was another day on Triton I, and there was much to do.
He followed his usual routine—brushing his teeth, showering, and getting dressed in more casual clothing for the morning. His mind was still on the null girl, Emilie. He needed answers, and fast. As he poured himself a cup of steaming coffee, his data tablet buzzed on the counter, indicating a message from Ralo.
Vargas sat down with his coffee and opened the message. The holographic display projected Ralo's familiar face.
"Morning, Vargas," Ralo greeted, his tone relaxed but focused as always. "I did some digging into that robot piece you sent me, and more importantly, I found some records on the girl—Emilie. She's... an interesting case."
Vargas straightened up in his seat, taking a sip of coffee as he listened.
"She was listed in the Triton records as an orphan, alright. Full name: Emilie Cora. Apparently, she's been bouncing around the system's foster care since she was young. She was assigned to work for the sanitation department a couple of years ago, which tracks with the uniform you saw her wearing. The odd thing is, she's had no previous incidents until recently, when a few reports started surfacing of equipment malfunctioning around her. The authorities chalked it up to faulty tech or poor maintenance, but if she's a null... well, that would explain a lot."
"Any mention of family?" Vargas asked, leaning in closer.
"Nothing significant. It seems like she was abandoned pretty early on. No known relatives, and the records don't show anything about her being involved in criminal activity either. It's like she's just... slipped through the cracks. But get this—there's a note in her file about her being involved in an 'incident' a few months ago. No details, though. Whatever it was, it's been scrubbed."
Vargas frowned. That wasn't unusual, especially if the Federation or the planetary authorities were trying to cover something up. But it made Emilie even more of a mystery.
"Thanks, Ralo. Keep an eye on that robot piece. I've got a bad feeling about the AI tech they're developing down here. Let me know if anything turns up."
"Will do. Oh, and Vargas? Be careful with that null girl. You are an Awakened after all",
Ralo said, his face disappearing from the projection as the message ended.
Vargas leaned back in his chair, staring at his tablet. Emilie Cora was now more than just a runaway; she was potentially tied to something much larger. But what connection did she have to the AI facility, if any? And what was the 'incident' that had been scrubbed from her file?
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his tablet buzzing again. This time, the caller ID displayed "Beirut."
Vargas answered, and the hologram of Investigator Beirut appeared before him. Beirut was standing somewhere with a backdrop of towering spires, likely one of Triton I's moons based on the stark, silvery environment behind him.
"Morning, Vargas," Beirut said, his tone professional but friendly. "I've got a situation on one of Triton I's moons—Vossus 6. A couple of mysterious deaths have occurred at a research station there. The local authorities are stumped, but I've got reason to believe there's some... unnatural involvement. I could use your expertise."
Vargas raised an eyebrow. "Unnatural, huh? You think it's more of your realm—magical investigation?"
Beirut nodded. "Potentially. But there's also a chance it's linked to some alien tech. The station was working on experimental energy systems, and we both know how unpredictable that can get. It could be nothing, but I'd rather be cautious."
Vargas considered it for a moment. The investigation on Triton I itself was already shaping up to be more complex than he had expected, but this new development on the moon couldn't be ignored. The timing was suspicious, especially with the AI facility and the null girl looming over everything.
"Alright," Vargas finally said. "I'll help."
"Appreciate it. I'll forward you the details," Beirut said, a small smile of relief appearing on his face before the call ended.
Vargas stood up, finishing the last of his coffee. He felt the weight of multiple investigations pulling at him, but this was nothing new. It was just another day in his life as an Investigator.
First things first, though. He should help out Beirut.
He grabbed his gear, donned his investigator's coat, and headed straight for the ship docking bay.
Flagging a taxi, Vargas slid into the back seat as the vehicle's hover engines quietly hummed to life. He could still hear the faint party music from the Red Light District as the taxi lifted off the ground and joined the flow of traffic in the skyways above. The sleek buildings of Vandros Prime slowly became dots in the distance as the taxi shot towards the docking bay, located near the planet's industrial outskirts.
The docking bay was bustling as usual, with ships of varying sizes loading and unloading cargo or preparing for interstellar travel. Vargas made his way to a small plane, a small, single-pilot craft designed for speed and efficiency rather than comfort. It was sleek and almost dagger-like in its design, perfect for solo journeys. He climbed into the cockpit and strapped himself in.
With a few taps on the console, the ship's engine roared to life. The hum of the thrusters reverberated through the small cabin, and within moments, Vargas was airborne, leaving Triton I behind him. His destination: Vossus 6, one of Triton's moons.
The journey to Vossus 6 took just over three hours, with Vargas piloting the craft in complete silence, the stars stretching out endlessly before him.
As his ship approached Vossus 6, the moon's silvery surface came into view, glittering under the distant starlight. It was a barren place, dotted with rocky outcrops and the occasional research station or mining facility. The research station where Beirut had called him to investigate stood alone on a plateau, its sleek, metallic structure shining in the moonlight like a beacon against the desolate landscape.
Vargas initiated the landing sequence, his ship descending gently onto the landing pad adjacent to the facility. The landing thrusters hissed as the ship touched down, and the cockpit opened with a sharp hiss of depressurization. Stepping out onto the moon's surface, he was immediately met with the chilly, thin atmosphere of Vossus 6. The air was breathable, though thin, and the station's oxygen generators had likely created a breathable bubble within a limited area.
Beirut was waiting for him near the entrance to the research station, his tall, stern figure unmistakable even from a distance. Dressed in his dark investigator uniform, he offered Vargas a small nod of acknowledgment as he approached.
"Glad you made it," Beirut greeted him. "Things here are... strange."
"Strange how?" Vargas asked, glancing toward the facility. The air around the place felt off, like it carried a lingering charge.
"Two researchers were found dead in their quarters. No visible injuries, but their expressions—it's like they saw something that terrified them before they died. We're still running tests, but initial scans indicate no toxins or diseases. Whatever caused their deaths might be... less conventional."
Vargas sighed internally. Of course, it would be something unusual. "Let's take a look inside."
Beirut led the way, and the two investigators entered the facility. The interior was cold, sterile, and eerily quiet. The hum of machines and the occasional faint beep of monitoring equipment was the only sound. The hallways were lit with a dull, artificial glow, casting shadows that seemed longer than they should be.
The research station's staff were noticeably tense. Vargas could see it in the way they moved—nervous glances, hurried steps, and the way they avoided eye contact with the two investigators. Clearly, whatever had happened to their colleagues had shaken them badly.
Beirut took Vargas to the quarters where the researchers had been found. As they stepped into the room, the chill in the air seemed to intensify. Two beds lay before them, neatly made, with the bodies still resting atop them, covered in thin, transparent sheets. Both victims were frozen in identical expressions of horror, their eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Vargas frowned, leaning in for a closer look. "No visible trauma, no wounds... nothing out of the ordinary. Except for that." He pointed to the faces, the sheer terror etched into their features.
"Yeah, I thought the same," Beirut replied, his tone dark. "There's no logical explanation for what could have done this. Not yet, at least."
Vargas scanned the room again, but there was something else, something just on the edge of his senses. A faint presence, a lingering trace of aera—or perhaps something else. It was almost like a residue, left behind by something... otherworldly.
"I'll need more time to investigate," Vargas said, stepping back from the bodies. "But this doesn't feel like your run-of-the-mill energy system accident. Something else is at play here."
"That's what I feared," Beirut admitted. "Take all the time you need. We need to figure out what's happening before it gets any worse."
Vargas gave a nod and began his investigation in earnest, knowing full well that this mission, much like his others, would likely reveal more than what met the eye.