I took a breath, steadying myself, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll help you in Rimelion.” I fixed my eyes on Riker’s shimmering holo-form, letting him see the resolve behind it. “But first things first, Riker. I need to find them. Lucas. Pearl. Do you know where they are?”

  Riker’s expression turned unusually grave, the easy humor fading like mist.

  “Alas, no.” He shook his head slowly, as if the admission genuinely pained him. “Pearl, you see… she is among the finest hacking operatives in this city… Nay, this world.” His voice dropped into something almost reverent. “Even my considerable resources lost track of them.”

  I frowned. “Where were they last seen?”

  Riker’s gaze drifted off to something just out of the frame, fingers dancing in the air like he was scrolling through invisible files. “I’m skimming the reports...” he murmured, half to himself, half narrating like he was the star of his own noir flick.

  “Ah-ha!” He snapped his fingers, smiling brightly.

  “Near the old treatment plant. One of my eyes glimpsed them before the trail went cold.” He leaned forward again, mischievousness creeping back into his voice. “A charming place for a clandestine meeting, wouldn’t you say? All rust and ruin. Practically poetic!”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Lola. She was talking quietly with Marly, who looked calmer now. Lola smiled at something she said, and just seeing that steadied me.

  “I think I know where they are,” I said. “Pearl has a safe house nearby. But I don’t want to go alone. Can you spare backup?”

  Riker’s grin stretched wider, the showman slipping back into full form. “Oh-ho!” He swiveled theatrically to the side, like consulting an invisible council. “Accept crypto transfer,” he declared grandly.

  I muted him before he could start composing a sonnet about it. “Jerry?” I muttered, glancing at my wrist.

  “Incoming transfer detected,” Jerry reported calmly. “Shall I accept?”

  “Yeah. Do it.”

  A cheerful beep sounded. Riker’s voice cut back in, triumphant. “Marvelous!” he crowed. “You now own the Tallor Vanguard!”

  I blinked.

  Opened my mouth.

  Closed it again.

  Static.

  Literal static buzzing behind my eyes.

  I unmuted. “What... what do you mean I own Tallor Vanguard?”

  Riker placed a hand reverently over his heart, adopting the posture of a man giving a knighthood. “Consider it a gift,” he said, barely restraining his laughter. “A small token of my profound sincerity, and my boundless faith in your dazzling ascent.”

  He dipped into a flawless theatrical bow.

  The worst part?

  I couldn’t even tell if he was kidding. And deep down, I knew… He wasn’t. “I… how? Why?”

  “A private equity fund acquired them recently,” Riker said with a lazy wave of his hand. “Led by a dear old friend of mine. I made a polite inquiry, and a polite offer, and he was gracious enough to part with them.”

  He shrugged, flashing a grin that was all teeth and self-satisfaction.

  “It wasn’t performing to their liking anyway. They were already debating whether to gut the company. You, dear Charlie—” he leaned in slightly, voice dropping into a mock reverence, “—you saved them. A veritable savior of the helpless corporate masses!”

  I just... gaped at him.

  Open-mouthed. No words. The sheer insanity of it all finally catching up like a delayed punch to the ribs.

  “Riker!” I sputtered. “How did you even do that while talking to me?!”

  He sighed aloud, placing a hand against his chest like a tragic actor lamenting the burdens of genius. “Ah, forgive me. I did get a little sidetracked in the explanation.” He leaned closer to the holo-camera, smirking like he was about to reveal the ultimate act of a magic trick. “How? As I said, connections, dear. And a few million credits changing hands faster than a card trick at a crooked casino.”

  He gave a wink, tilting his head just enough to make me want to punch through the holo-display.

  “And as for why?” His grin widened, dazzling and infuriating all at once. “Because it was a trifling expense. A mere drop in the ocean of opportunities you represent.”

  He tapped the side of his head lightly, his voice dropping into that dangerous softness he used when he really meant it. “And because—” his smile sharpened, almost fond, almost cruel, “—I can do many things at once.”

  His eyes gleamed. “You really should learn that trick someday.”

  “Well. Thanks. I think. I don’t know. This is stupid.” I hovered for half a second, then sighed. “I guess I should’ve been more careful. Bye.” And I slashed the call off before Riker could also gift me an ice-cream company or something equally insane.

  “Isn’t it generous of him?” Jerry piped up, his voice filled with far too much innocent curiosity.

  “Yeah. Generous.” I started walking back toward Lola and Tom, rubbing my face with one hand. “But seriously… what am I supposed to do with a security company? Handle payroll? Set up parking spaces? Authorize... taser purchases?”

  “Should I search for it?” Jerry offered helpfully.

  “That was rhetorical—” I started. Paused. Thought about it. “You know what? Fine. Search it. Knock yourself out.”

  A quiet beep sounded as Jerry got to work.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  I pushed open the door to the lounge where Lola and Tom were still sitting, Marly wrapped in a blanket now, still sniffling but calmer.

  I clapped my hands together lightly. “Okay, guys. I have... a few new developments.” Lola turned to me with a smile. Tom just looked like he was bracing for bad news.

  Honestly? Same Tom. Same.

  “I know where Lucas is,” I said, steadying my voice. “Probably. There’s an old treatment plant down by the river. Pearl should have a safe house nearby.”

  Tom exhaled, visibly relieved. “Good. If you give me the location, our company can handle the rest.”

  I gulped.

  Glanced to the side. “Uhm… slight complication.” Lola started laughing. I shot her a flat stare, but that only made her giggle harder, covering her mouth with both hands. “Lola!” I hissed.

  She stepped closer, still smiling, and before I could back away, she wrapped her arms around me. “Was that friend... Mister Riker?” she whispered against my shoulder. “Was it okay? Did he force you into something you didn’t want? Rude? Polite? Scary?”

  The closeness stole the air from my lungs. I stood there for half a second, frozen, then slowly hugged her back.

  Lola wasn’t someone I knew for a long time. So why… But… those I knew weren’t doing the best - Damon, Ian… Lucas. Should find Lucy. I gulped again, forming myself to go back to the present. “Everything’s... okay,” I mumbled, barely trusting myself to breathe.

  Tom coughed awkwardly behind us. “Charlie? What... exactly happened?”

  I pulled back from Lola, giving her a small smile, because I couldn’t help it, and turned to Tom, still blushing slightly. “Long story short...” I said, clearing my throat. “I, uh... bought your company.”

  Tom blinked.

  I soldiered on, feeling my face get hotter by the second. “I need you guys as backup. So... you technically work for me now.”

  “What—no?” Tom stammered, blinking fast. “We’re a big company, I need to call boss, it’s not just—” He spun around, muttering to himself, clearly needing a full system reboot.

  I turned back to the soft, uncertain voice behind me. “What... what about me?” Marly whispered, wiping at her eyes. “Are… are you mad, Charlie?”

  I hesitated.

  Glanced at Lola. Hoping, praying, for a sign, a nod, anything to dodge making this call myself. But Lola just shook her head gently.

  My decision then.

  Great.

  I sighed and turned fully toward her. “Is there any reason to report her crime, Lola?”

  Lola gave me a small, knowing smile. “Justice, maybe,” she said. “She did break the law. And... it might give you some satisfaction for what she put you through? We had to sneak in after all.”

  I stared at her. Held her gaze. She smiled a little brighter, giving the tiniest nod.

  Right.

  I turned back to Marly, who was trembling where she stood. “None, then,” I said, shrugging like it cost me nothing.

  Marly burst into tears.

  Right at the same moment Tom returned, looking even more confused than when he’d left, his gaze bouncing between me, Lola, and Marly, trying and failing to piece together whatever emotional bomb he’d just walked into.

  “Marly?” he asked, his voice careful, like he was trying not to startle a wounded animal.

  “I just told her everything’s fine,” I said, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “We’ll solve it without dragging in the police. So?”

  Tom rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he needed aspirin and maybe a week off.

  “Good. I think?” he said. “I talked to the boss. We... uh, we were bought. That’s confirmed.”

  He glanced at me like maybe if he stared long enough, I’d morph into someone more believable.

  “He told me to stay here. Said he’ll personally take an A-team to back you up—if you can prove you’re the new owner.”

  He looked like he was still waiting for someone to jump out and yell this is a simulation.

  Been there, Tom.

  Lola yawned softly and slid onto the wide front windowsill, her legs swinging just a little as she settled in.

  I raised an eyebrow at her.

  She just shrugged, a bit shy. “Looks like we’ll be here a while.”

  I smirked. “Sure. You and me both.” Then turned back to Tom. “Alright, how long are we talking?”

  He pulled out his holo-tablet again, scrolling through messages at lightning speed. His mouth tightened. “Fifteen minutes. They’re grabbing gear and regrouping nearby. If they speed up ten.”

  “Good.” I let myself slide down the wall until I was sitting, too. “Because if we’re stuck here longer, I’m sending Jerry to order pizza.”

  Lola grinned from the window.

  Even Tom cracked a tiny, tired smile.

  A low rumble of an approaching engine broke the quiet first.

  I pushed myself up from the wall just as a matte-black van swung around the corner and pulled up directly in front of the building. No logos. No windows in the back. Just greedy utility.

  The side door hissed open.

  And out came two men, both moving with practiced precision, the kind that screamed professional trouble. Brute One and Brute Three, my brain supplied helpfully.

  No clue what happened to Two. Maybe he had the day off.

  Both wore lightweight tactical suits, high-density fabric woven with reactive armor plates that flexed like second skin. Not bulky, but tough. Helmets with full face shields gleamed under the building’s front lights, segmented like some kind of insect shell. Augmented HUDs flickered in faint, ghostly lines across the visors as they scanned the surroundings.

  Their rifles weren’t the old-school clunky kind we had in army either. Slim, modular, with magnetic feed systems tucked into the frame, designed for close-quarters. Non-lethal stun mods attached just under the barrels, for bonus points.

  No words exchanged. No hesitation.

  Brute one secured the door outside. The other swept into the lobby, scanning every corner like he was clearing a combat zone, not a sad little reception desk.

  And then the third figure stepped out of the van. In a sleek, dark jacket and combat boots, walking with the lazy confidence of someone who didn’t need armor to be dangerous. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with weathered bronze skin, a shaved head, a sharp jawline, and a heavy, calculating gaze. He stepped inside, gaze sweeping across the room in one fluid motion.

  He took it all in:

  Lola perched casually on the windowsill, a bit shy, guarding behind her tablet.

  Wait, she has one with her?! Since when?

  Me, standing loose and relaxed, trying to look less impressed than I was.

  Tom half-straightened from his tablet, frozen awkwardly like a student caught cheating.

  And Marly, curled up in her chair, quietly sobbing into a blanket.

  The new guy’s mouth quirked. Not quite a smile. Not quite anything. “Who’s the owner? Ping me.”

  Jerry, the efficient little traitor that he was, sent the ping automatically. The man’s radio chirped once. He narrowed his eyes at me, suspicion sharpening like a blade.

  And I—

  I was fighting not to giggle.

  Hard.

  Failed once, I did my best to look normal, casual, stoic even while Lola pretended to be fascinated by something outside the window.

  What? He came stomping in here like some all-mighty space sheriff. I hated those kinds of people.

  “Don’t play with me,” he hissed. “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Or what?” I asked, voice soft, flat. “Shoot us?”

  His hands twitched like he wanted to, but no weapon raised. “I want to know who’s the new owner!” he almost yelled, the sound sharp enough to make Marly flinch. “They set an op, and we’re wasting time talking!”

  “Boss Darius,” Brute Three cut in, his voice calm, almost amused. “You’re doing it again.”

  Darius coughed.

  And then… tried to smile. It looked more like a frown got lost halfway.

  “Sorry, miss,” he grunted, turning fully toward me. “Didn’t mean to... be unpleasant. Run security company, not daycare. You new owner?” He squinted. “Tell me why. Or how? Firm told me cut expenses, not—”

  “Boss Darius,” Brute Three repeated, patient as a long-suffering babysitter.

  Darius growled low in his throat like a kicked dog. “Fine,” he muttered, throwing up his hands. “What’s the op?” he asked, crossing his arms like he was daring me to screw it up.

  I pushed myself off the wall and started toward the door, my heels echoing lightly against the polished floor. “The op,” I said coolly, “is to save my friend. Lucas. Whatever’s happened to him.”

  I motioned for Lola, and she hopped off the windowsill immediately, falling into step beside me without hesitation.

  “We know where he is,” I added over my shoulder. “Treatment plant by the river. One of their safe houses is nearby.”

  Darius straightened, his posture shifting from skeptical to operational in an instant.

  No more questions.

  No more speeches.

  We were moving.

  Behind us, the boots of Brute One and Brute Three thudded into motion, and Tom scrambled awkwardly after them, glancing back at Marly before jogging to catch up.

  Lola started talking to me in a low voice, her tone brisk but still carrying that quiet note of care that somehow made my chest feel tight again. “You sure you’re ready for this? Not only Lucas, but… The Children? The cost?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I have to be.”