Thirteen

Kip sat at the bar, drinking next to an unconscious Jerome. The barkeep had left, he had been gone for some time now but Kip assumed he was out for a smoke. The bar was empty. Then, suddenly, Kip felt a bang and heard a violent human produced screech from below. It was quiet inside, so the sound scared Kip to his feet. “Must be in the cellar,” Kip said to Jerome, who hadn’t woken up.

Maybe the barkeep got hurt, fell or somethin’, he thought. He should probably check. He walked behind the bar and into the stockroom where he saw the cellar entrance. He opened the door and walked down the steep steps to find three men fighting. He didn’t recognize any of them in the scuffle, he just knew two big guys were beating up on someone much smaller.

“Hey, what the hell you guys doin’?” Kip yelled out. 

The men all paused for a moment and looked his way, and then Kip realized. The little guy was Mo, and from the looks of it, he had already taken quite a beating. 

“Fuck outta here vaporwit,” one of the large men shouted back.

Kip, driven by instinct, surged forward with determination. As one of the assailants moved to intercept him, he threw a heavy punch at Kip. Reacting swiftly, Kip caught the fist in his grip, then twisted violently, snapping the man's wrist. A sharp, sickening crack echoed in the cellar. Without hesitation, Kip delivered a brutal headbutt, sending the man sprawling to the concrete floor with a sick thud, his body going limp, the back of his head striking the ground with a dull, final sound.

Undeterred, Kip turned his attention to the second man, who had raised his arms in a defensive stance. With a precise and powerful kick, Kip targeted the man’s knee, causing it to buckle and fracture under his body's weight. The man collapsed with a scream of agony, his pain echoing off the walls. Desperate, he reached for a knife concealed in his boot. Kip, relentless, stomped down hard on the outstretched hand, his boot crushing the fingers beneath with a series of gruesome snaps.

Leaning down, Kip delivered a punishing blow to the man's face. The force of the punch rendered him unconscious, his body slumping motionless to the floor alongside his companion. Kip stood over them, his chest heaving. Gradually regaining his composure, Kip straightened up and turned to face Mo. His expression softened as he took in Mo's battered state.

"Hey, agency-man. You okay?" Kip asked, concern evident in his voice as he extended a helping hand.

Mo nodded, feeling the ache of his injuries but able to stand. He gratefully accepted Kip's assistance, feeling the steadiness of his grip as he was pulled to his feet.

"Second time I saved ya," Kip remarked with a slight grin, pride in his tone.

Mo had a slight suspicion about Kip's second timely intervention, yet the gratitude he felt was undeniable. Perhaps it was just fortune smiling upon him in a moment of dire need, he reasoned. After the streak of misfortune he had endured, Mo found some comfort in the thought of luck finally being on his side.

“I met them. The Ascendents, their leader,” Mo said breathily, still recovering from the beating. 

“Did you see Jax?!” Kip asked excitedly.

“Sorry, Kip. Everyone was wearing a mask.” Mo replied. Kip nodded but a brief look of disappointment crossed his face.

“Oh, sure.” Kip replied. “What do we do?”

“Well, as soon as they find these two..” Mo pointed to the unconscious men on the ground. “That offer to stay with you still stand?”

“Course,” Kip nodded.

“Okay, we should move quickly, before they know I’m alive.” Mo said as they began to move towards the stairs up to the bar from the cellar. “And Kip,” Mo put his hand on Kip’s shoulder and removed the bug he had planted earlier. “Thank you, I’d be dead without you.”

And he meant it.

They stealthily returned to Kip's workshop.

Once safe and alone, Mo started thinking about his next move. "Hey, Kip. When you saved me that first time, did you grab my blaster?" he inquired.

"Oh! Yes, I did. It's here... somewhere. Just a moment," Kip replied, rising to search the room. The holoscreen in the corner was still on, the volume was low but a newsflash was playing about a blackout in the Vesper district caused by a failing energy converter.

As Mo looked around the workshop again, he began to notice more than just the dust and clutter. Advanced technology was scattered about, and the state of the half-finished projects indicated a deep understanding of them. "Hey, Kip," he called out, "do you work on all this equipment?"

"Absolutely," Kip answered, his voice echoing from another part of the room as he searched for Mo's blaster. "I can fix and dismantle all sorts of gadgets."

"And you understand how it all works?" Mo asked, slightly embarrassed by his own question. "I mean, no offense, Kip. It's just..."

Kip returned, blaster in hand, and extended it to Mo. "No worries. They call it 'vaporwits.' Doctor said it's due to long-term exposure to Eclpisis's atmosphere."

Mo nodded, accepting the blaster, "I understand, sorry to ask,"

"It's alright. The condition doesn't affect my entire brain, just certain parts. That makes sense, right? My knowledge of tech is still intact," Kip explained.

Mo nodded and then fell into a brief contemplative silence, weighing the decision to confide in Kip. Finally, he resolved to share his plan. "I'm about to reveal something crucial about my next move, Kip. But before I do, I need to be certain that you're on board with me."

Kip responded with unwavering determination, “Of course, I’m with you,” his look one of excitement to hear the plan.

Mo delivered his intentions with straightforward honesty. "I intend to infiltrate the ESED headquarters, breach their systems, and retrieve sensitive data. And, Kip, I'm going to need your assistance."

The voice chimed in hatefully, close to Mo’s left ear again. “You’re gonna use him? Get him killed?” the voice seethed. Mo turned his head quickly to once again find no one next to him.

The excitement that had previously lit up Kip's face dimmed, replaced by an intense worry. "But... why?" he asked with genuine concern.

Mo carried on, ignoring the strange voice, and elaborated. "I believe the ESED is manipulating events here, including me. The cabbie, the raid on my hotel room. They deliberately disabled my room's quantum relay, making it harder for me to contact the UEA." Speaking aloud about his doubts provided a sense of relief and clarity. “They’re hiding something from everyone. They’re using the cult’s presence to cover up their involvement, passing the blame,” Mo continued.

Kip stared at the ground for a moment, a tense look on his face. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll help.”

“I’ll need to scope the place out more thoroughly. Been inside a couple of times, but never got much of a chance to look around,” Mo paused and looked Kip in the eyes, “I’ll need a way to bypass their biometric security systems,”

Kip appeared initially taken aback by Mo's request but quickly started pondering possible solutions. “Bio security, yeah.. I’ll work on it,” he responded thoughtfully.

“Thanks, Kip. There’s also something else I need—a way to disguise my face,” Mo added.

Excitedly, Kip jumped up from his chair and rummaged through the clutter in the workshop. He returned holding a respirator mask. “What about this?” he asked, holding it out to Mo.

Mo examined the mask, noting its sleek black poly-fiber construction. It would cover his entire face except for the eyes, offering a clear line of sight. The mask was secured with a strap mechanism and featured advanced filter cartridges on either side of the mouth area. “This could work,” Mo affirmed, accepting the mask.

Kip explained its origin. “The docs gave it to me when I was diagnosed. But it’s too late —I've already got the condition. And I hate wearing it.”

Mo nodded in understanding. “This is great, thanks,” he said, just as his attention was caught by a newsflash on the holoscreen in the corner of the room. The headline beneath the broadcaster read, “Head of COE Found Dead.” Mo felt the blood run from his face and he got up from his seat. He moved closer to the screen. “Damn,” he muttered in shock, “Can you turn this up, Kip?”

Kip stood and pressed a button on a nearby panel, increasing the volume of the holoscreen.

The broadcaster's voice filled the room. “Elara Vox’s body was discovered early this morning on Kulmer Street. Initial reports suggest she fell from the top of Draken Tower. The scene indicates there was a struggle, and authorities say she sustained injuries before the fall that ultimately led to her death. The ESED is currently investigating the matter further.”

He had failed. He couldn't reach her in time, and now she was gone.

The broadcast continued, "The local group known as the Ascendents has claimed responsibility for her death, sending the following video to local news agencies. Warning: this message is disturbing." The segment then transitioned to a holovid. The Unbound appeared, staring directly at the recording device. "Eclipsis, the time is now. Ms. Vox was a perpetrator of your misery. She despised this world. She, the ESED, their leaders, are all complicit in our day-to-day struggle. We were meant for more. Her death was a necessary catalyst, and now we must be stronger than ever. The ESED have enlisted the aid of the UEA, agents of oppression walk among us. Look to your brothers, look to your sisters. And everyone, look up, at them. At the overlords. At the power-man regime. Rise up." The screen returned to the broadcaster. "Disturbing stuff. In other news..." they continued with the next newsflash.

Mo stared blankly at the holoscreen. Kip glanced at him and asked, "What now?"

"I need to leave Eclipsis," Mo replied firmly.

"But you can't! The cult, Jax, it's all still happening," Kip pleaded.

"Don't you get it? If I stay now, I'm dead. I've been outed on the news in the midst of a goddamn revolution," Mo asserted. "Where's the nearest quantum relay?"

Kip looked distraught but reluctantly answered, "There's one at the community center, down the street. I can take you. Come on," he said, heading towards the door.

Mo quickly checked his inventory: blaster, badge, coat, Q-Pad. He had everything he needed. He followed Kip, and as they walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that every passerby was giving him hostile looks. The situation in Eclipsis had rapidly deteriorated into dangerous instability.

They arrived outside the community center, a run-down public building that served as a rest stop and hangout for locals. Inside, they found the quantum relays, four in total. Mo approached one and tried to establish a connection to the UEA nexus mainstation, but nothing happened. The signal couldn't be acquired, and eventually, he received a message stating the same. “Fuck!” Mo exclaimed, punching the relay.

A man who had been sitting, watching a bad soap opera on a holoscreen while smoking, turned around and glared at Mo. "Shit, man, calm down! I'm watching a show."

Mo waved apologetically. "Sorry, I, uh..."

The man continued to stare at him. "If you're trying to make an off-world call, it's not gonna work. Relays all over have been down since this morning," he explained before turning his attention back to the holoscreen.

It seemed more than mere chance. Mo recognized he needed to forge his own escape from this world.

“Mo, listen, I get why you think leaving is necessary. But we… I… Eclipsis, we need your help,” Kip implored, his voice laced with urgency.

In Kip’s earnest gaze, Mo saw reflections of his own past: a twelve-year-old boy mourning his mother; at twenty-three, grieving for Lina; at thirty, watching Horus, his homeland, fall prey to corporate giants, its citizens suffering and enslaved. Was Eclipsis destined for a similar fate? The weight of guilt pressed on him, yet he felt helpless. Alone, without UEA backing, what difference could he make?

Memories of his mother, Lina, and Horus echoed in his mind, a silent plea not to forsake Eclipsis. Perhaps, by thwarting the cult and liaising with ESED as a UEA representative, he might avert a spiral into anarchy for this world. Maybe things would calm down on Eclipsis. Improve, even. Besides, what remained for him out in the great wide Octant? Joining the UEA had been a bid to end such chaos and misery. Elara was gone, but with the cult, the ESED, and Eclipsis’ unrest, his mission was far from over. He had to stay, to see this through.

“Ways to get past the biosecurity, Kip, I’ll still need help with that then,” Mo said to Kip.

Kip’s eyes gleamed, realizing Mo’s commitment to stay. “Course! I’ll get on it. Make some calls. Thanks, Mo.”

“Sounds good. In the meantime, it seems like I ought to pay another visit to Mr. Draken in his tower.” Mo replied.

“Okay, stay safe. See you back at the shop,” Kip responded, before they parted ways. Kip returned to his workshop to contact his Eclipsis underground market contacts, while Mo headed towards Draken Tower in the Central Business District. Approaching the District, Mo noticed a crowd on Kulmer Street. Some were onlookers, eager for a glimpse of the scene. Others seemed motivated by the Unbound’s video that the news broadcasted. 

Two factions occupied opposite sides of the street. One side shouted cultisms - “Down with the oppressors!”, “Rise up!”. The other, an anti group, countered with cries of “Eclipsis is OUR home!”, “Degenerate revolutionaries!”. The ESED, in the center, worked to push both sides back. Neither group seemed to support the ESED; both hurled insults and projectiles at the line of Enforcers blocking their way. “The ESED fucking let this happen!” a man yelled at an Enforcer, who, with colleagues, retaliated with electric batons, beating him to the ground. The crowd quickly pulled the man back, away from the Enforcers’ reach.

The crowd thinned out towards the front entrance of Draken Tower, and Mo silently slipped through and attempted to enter the building, but instead was greeted with a locked door. The hustle and bustle within the building was no more.  Inside, only a lone receptionist and several armed guards were present. The receptionist noticed Mo trying to get in and approached the door, the guards tensing up.

“The building's closed!” she called through the thick glass.

“I’m with the UEA,” Mo raised his voice just enough to be heard, cautious not to draw attention from outside. The woman shook her head and cupped her hand around her ear.

Mo discreetly flashed his UEA badge against the glass, saying “U-E-A,” a bit louder.

The receptionist's expression changed to recognition. She spoke to the guards, who lined up by the door. Unlocking it, she opened it, and the guards swiftly formed a perimeter outside, allowing Mo to enter. Mo entered quickly and the guards walked backwards following him inside with guns ready. Once the last man was in, the receptionist quickly closed and locked the door.

“Apologies, sir. With the current tensions, we’ve sent most staff home,” she explained. “We have to be careful.”

“I understand. Is Mr. Draken still here? I need to speak with him,” Mo said, nodding his head towards the scene outside.

“One moment, please. I'll check if he’s available,” she responded, then hurried back to the desk.

As Mo entered Elias Draken's office for the second time, the atmosphere had shifted dramatically. The weight of recent events hung heavily in the air, casting a pall over the room. Elias, seated behind his desk, looked up with a somber expression.

"Tracer Darin," he greeted, his tone stripped of its previous lightheartedness. "So, Elara’s dead."

Mo nodded, taking the same seat as before. "Yes, that's right."

Elias leaned forward, interlocking his fingers with a sense of gravity. "I gather you're not here for a mere courtesy call. What do you need?"

Mo wasted no time. "I need to see the surveillance footage from the night Elara died, particularly from the rooftop."

Without hesitation, Elias swiped his hand over the desk's interface, and the holoscreen came to life. It displayed the rooftop scene, where a group of masked figures, Ascendents, emerged from an air transport with a captive woman. The captive, her face concealed by a bag, was roughly escorted forward. Moments later, the bag was removed, revealing Elara Vox’s badly bruised, yet unmistakable, face.

On the screen, Elara seemed to plead with her captors. Mo, intent on capturing every detail, asked, "Can we get any audio?"

Elias fiddled with the controls, and a distorted, static-riddled audio filled the room. The words were indistinct, muffled under layers of interference, except for Elara's distressed pleas as she dropped to her knees. "Please! Please!" her voice broke through the static, a clear note of desperation. One of the figures leaned down in front of her, spoke briefly, then retreated. Elara’s demeanor shifted abruptly to one of resignation; she stood, walked to the ledge, paused to look back at the masked figures, who nodded in unison. Then, with a chilling calmness, she stepped off the edge.

Mo and Elias sat in silence, the stark scene on the holoscreen now frozen on the empty rooftop. The air between them was heavy until Elias broke the silence. “I had no love for Elara, but I had nothing to do with it,” he stated flatly.

Mo turned his gaze from the screen to Elias. “But why here, at Draken Tower?” he probed.

Elias shrugged, a hint of disdain crossing his features. “Hell, I don’t know. It’s a tall building. Maybe the cultists see it as a symbol of our ‘corporate oppression’,” he speculated, his tone laced with cynicism. “Perhaps they thought it ironic, tossing her off the top of it. Your guess is as good as mine, Tracer.”

Mo considered this perspective for a moment, and maybe that was all there was to it. Again he had nothing on Elias, and he had been straightforward with Mo, putting up no fight when probed for the footage. “And where were you? When this happened” Mo asked.

“Considering the late hour I’m sure I was asleep in my bed, in my apartment five stories below the roof,” Elias responded matter of factly.

"Alright, Elias," Mo said, slowly rising from his seat. His mind raced, piecing together the fragmented puzzle of Eclipsis' chaos. "One more thing. Your thoughts on the Ascendents. What's their endgame here?"

Elias leaned back, his gaze fixed on the frozen image on the holoscreen. "If I knew that, I'd be in a better position," he replied with a hint of frustration. "But from what I gather, they're organized, strategic. And they have a clear disdain for the ESED and, by extension, anyone associated with it."

Mo nodded, agreeing with Elias's assessment. "And what about the ESED?"

Elias smirked, a cynical edge to his voice. "The ESED? They're too busy trying to maintain some semblance of control."

"That's a dangerous game," Mo remarked.

Elias stood, walking over to the window overlooking the city. "Eclipsis is a powder keg, Tracer. And everyone's holding a match. This place changes people, makes them desperate, makes them do things they never thought they'd do."

Mo joined Elias at the window, their reflections mingling with the city's lights. "And you? What's your role in all this?" Mo asked, his gaze meeting Elias's in the glass.

Elias's reflection stared back, a mixture of resolve and weariness in his eyes. "Survival, Tracer. I'm playing the long game."

Mo turned from the window, "Thanks for your time, Mr. Draken.”

Elias nodded, "Be careful, Tracer."  he warned as Mo walked out the door.

The city's perpetual twilight greeted him as he stepped outside, the crowd on Kulmer Street had thinned somewhat. He blended into the shadows, disappearing into the neon labyrinth.