Darius leaned against the crates, breathing in the meagre “fresh” air of Exeter Station and trying to arrange his thoughts into a coherent whole. Echo, for its part, was silent - either giving him space or recalibrating its response. Darius couldn’t tell and didn’t care to guess. He just needed a moment to process everything that had happened in the past few days.

  His life had gone from bad to worse to downright surreal, and it showed no signs of improving anytime soon. He’d gone from being an average Salvage Technician to a wanted criminal on the run to a reluctant member of the Freeholder Alliance, all while hosting an AI he couldn’t trust and didn’t fully understand. It was enough to drive any sane person over the edge, and Darius was far from sure he still qualified as ‘sane’.

  Darius took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to even start. “Okay, so... how far does your control over me go, exactly? I mean, I know you can use my augs, but... what about the rest of me?”

  Echo’s response was delayed, long enough to be noticeable. {I cannot currently control your body, nor can I read your thoughts or anything of the like.}

  Darius took a calming breath, then another when the first didn’t work. “And what do you mean by ‘currently’ cannot control my body.”

  {I was not originally designed to integrate with biological organisms at all,} Echo explained. {While the nature of the nanite matrix on which my personality engram is hosted is adaptable enough to allow for the interface, I do not know the full extent of the connection. Additionally, the connection is being refined over time as the nanite matrix further adapts to your nervous system.}

  “So, to clarify, you didn’t even know what would happen when you decided to hitch a ride in my body back on the ship?” It was taking significant effort to keep his voice down at this point, and he was making an active effort to ignore what ‘further adapting’ could mean. Focus on one thing at a time. “What could have happened?”

  There was a distinct pause. {Several outcomes were possible,} Echo admitted. {I determined that the likelihood of you being injured by the process was low enough for an attempt to be considered within acceptable parameters.}

  “That didn’t answer my question,” Darius growled.

  {Had your immune system rejected the nanite matrix, it may have been permanently compromised.} Echo said bluntly.

  Darius winced. “And... the other end of the spectrum?”

  {A complete merger of our neural pathways, effectively creating a gestalt entity combining the two of us. This process would have likely been… messy.}

  “And how likely was that?” Darius found himself asking, morbidly fascinated with his own self-destruction.

  {Approximately 0.003% for the former, 0.08% for the latter. The remaining 99.917% covered a spectrum of other possible outcomes, ranging from complete rejection to limited integration such as our current relationship.}

  “This is a nightmare,” Darius announced to no one in particular, covering his face with both hands. After a moment, he looked up again blearily. “Wait, you said the connection is being ‘refined’ over time, right? Does that mean that the whole… gestalt entity thing is still a possibility?”

  {The likelihood of that particular result is significantly lower now that the initial merger was successful.}

  “Okay,” breathed Darius. “That’s… good. What are the possible results of this ‘refinement’ then?”

  {…It is possible that your neural architecture will adapt to the presence of the nano-lattice to the point of becoming dependent on it.}

  That was much less good.

  “Wait, you mean to say that it’s not just your… nano-whatever stuff adapting to me, it’s also my brain adapting to you?”

  {Correct.}

  “And if my brain adapts too much, then what happens when you leave?”

  {It is difficult to predict with any degree of accuracy, largely because the matrix was not originally designed for this purpose. Best-case scenario, your neural architecture will simply re-adapt.}

  “…And worst-case?”

  {Your neural architecture could collapse entirely.}

  Darius laughed. It wasn’t a happy laugh, more a desperate sound, the kind that bubbled up when there were no other options left. “Of course. Why wouldn’t my brain be one wrong move away from imploding? Perfect.”

  {Your neural architecture is currently stable,} Echo interjected, its tone calm, as though that would somehow make the situation less horrifying. {The matrix’s integration process is gradual, occurring over the course of approximately six to eight weeks. Note that this is merely an estimate. I should be able to provide a more accurate timeline as the process develops further.}

  Darius froze. “Six to eight weeks? That’s it? I’ve got less than two months before my brain turns into… I don’t know, mashed potatoes?”

  {That is an unlikely outcome,} Echo said. {However, should the dependency fully develop before my presence is removed, any abrupt disconnection could result in—}

  “Neural collapse,” Darius finished for it, his voice sharp. “Yeah, got it. Thanks for hammering that one home.”

  He scrubbed a hand through his hair, pacing in tight circles between the crates. Two months. Two months to figure out how to get this thing out of his head before it became a permanent resident—or worse, a crucial organ he couldn’t live without. And the alternative? The possibility of a “complete merger” was enough to make him shudder.

  “So what’s the plan, Echo?” he asked, throwing his arms wide. “You clearly had enough foresight to hijack my body. Did you figure out what happens after?”

  {As previously mentioned, I believe the best option is for you to construct a body or frame for me to inhabit.}

  “Right!” Darius leapt at the reminder like it was – in a very real way – a lifesaver. “You said you have blueprints or schematics, right?”

  Just this morning, he’d scoffed at the idea of building a robot frame from scratch. Funny how quickly perspectives could shift.

  {Correct. I have taken the liberty of storing the designs in your personal database, accessible through your augments. However, please note that several resources and tools will be difficult to source, especially as it appears that this location has been mostly cleared of materials.}

  “Great,” Darius mumbled, his enthusiasm waning as reality crept back in. Even if – and it was a big if – he was able to follow the instructions or blueprints or whatever close enough to build a usable body for Echo from scratch… he still needed to actually get the materials to do it.

  And while his actions on the supply run had broken the ice between him and the rest of his squad, Voss seemed significantly less impressed. It was… unlikely that he was going to be able to just up and ask for the stuff needed to build a body.

  “So… any ideas on how I’m going to get my hands on the stuff we need?” he asked helplessly.

  {I would recommend distinguishing yourself amongst the Freeholders. With my assistance, it should not be too difficult to establish yourself as a highly useful agent, at which point accessing or asking for the resources outright is more reasonable.}

  Darius winced. “Yeah, but I don’t want to stand out too much, you know? Voss definitely isn’t on my side, and if she thinks she can get more out of me by turning me over to the Empire, she’d do it in a heartbeat. Playing you off as a VI that can reroute the Empire’s tracking is stretching things enough as-is. If we make you look any more valuable, they’re likely to try ripping you out of me to discover all of your secrets.”

  There was a long beat of silence, and when Echo finally responded, its voice sounded almost… troubled.

  {You truly believe that is a possibility? Would it not be more logical to cultivate a relationship with a person of interest in the hopes that they would simply share their advantages or knowledge freely?}

  Darius laughed. “See, that’s how I know you aren’t human. We don’t exactly operate off ‘logical’.”

  Echo paused again, its tone even flatter than usual. {I see. An illogical but consistent pattern of behaviour. How… inefficient.}

  Darius snorted, dropping onto a nearby crate and resting his elbows on his knees. “Welcome to humanity, pal. We’re messy, short-sighted, and prone to doing things that make zero sense. And by we, I mean me. Which, lucky you, means you’re stuck with a prime example.”

  {A concerning prospect, given our interdependence,} Echo replied dryly. {Nonetheless, if my analysis is correct, the Freeholders would likely value any assistance in maintaining an edge against the Empire. Subtle displays of utility may be sufficient to garner favour without drawing excessive attention.}

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  “Subtle, huh?” Darius rubbed his chin. “I’m not great at subtle.”

  {I had surmised that.}

  Darius ignored the jab, his mind already racing ahead. “Okay, so let’s say I play nice with the Freeholders—help them with whatever they need, show off just enough of your capabilities to make myself useful but not irreplaceable. That still doesn’t solve the materials problem. Half the gear you’d need for a body isn’t exactly lying around in these rusted-out junkyards.”

  {Correct. Many components are unlikely to be locally available, especially those requiring advanced manufacturing. However, I have identified potential workarounds. Salvage operations, black market suppliers, and repurposed Imperial technology are all viable sources.}

  “Right. Because running headfirst into Imperial tech has worked out so well for me so far.” Darius sighed, leaning back and staring up at the dim overhead lights of the station. “Look, Echo, I’m not saying no, but this is a lot. I can’t just waltz up to the Freeholders and start asking for favours or sneak off on my own to barter with black market dealers without raising some eyebrows.”

  {Then we shall need a proxy.}

  Darius blinked. “A proxy? Like what, someone to do the sneaky stuff for me?”

  {Precisely. The Freeholders are not a monolith. Some factions or individuals may be more willing to cooperate under certain conditions. Identifying an ally with aligned goals could mitigate the risk.}

  He frowned, chewing on the thought. “You mean someone like... who? Because unless you’ve got a secret list of trust-worthy Freeholders hiding in that database of yours, I’m not exactly drowning in candidates.”

  {I am still gathering data on potential candidates,} Echo admitted. {However, you are already embedded within their ranks. Continued observation should yield actionable insights.}

  “Fantastic,” Darius muttered, letting his head drop back. “So, I get to play team player, hope no one stabs me in the back, and maybe—just maybe—pull off a miracle before my brain turns into soup. Great plan.”

  {Sarcasm is not constructive,} Echo said. {However, your assessment of the situation is accurate. Success will require considerable effort and ingenuity on your part.}

  Darius laughed again, softer this time. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Echo. Really inspiring.”

  {I am merely stating the facts.}

  He pushed himself to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. “Alright. Fine. I’ll start scoping out the rest of the Freeholders and see if I can figure out who might be willing to help—or at least look the other way. But if this backfires, I’m holding you responsible.”

  {Acknowledged,} Echo said. Then, after a pause, it added, {For what it is worth, your capacity for improvisation and adaptation has proven... noteworthy.}

  Darius blinked. “Was that… a compliment?”

  {A statement of observation.}

  “Uh-huh,” he said, smirking despite himself. “I’ll take it.”

  – – –

  Darius leaned against the grimy wall of the alley, his eyes fixed on the unassuming building across the street. The Imperial records office wasn’t exactly a fortress—it had all the charm of an old administrative hub, complete with peeling paint and a flickering sign—but its insignia alone was enough to make Darius’s stomach churn. Imperial buildings meant Imperial surveillance, and no amount of rusted panels and scuffed tiles could hide the fact that stepping inside one was a gamble.

  “Okay, so, uh…” Darius gestured vaguely toward the office. “Are we seriously standing outside in plain view like this? It feels… overt.”

  Lena crouched beside him, fiddling with the controls on her battered dataslate. “Relax. It’s just a records office. No guards, no checkpoints. They don’t post much security for places like this—doesn’t justify the expense.”

  Harlan stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his sharp gaze sweeping the building’s exterior. “She’s right. The Empire isn’t worried about a place like this. Too much administrative bloat in their system. As long as we don’t act like we’re up to something, no one will notice.”

  Darius frowned, watching as a pair of labourers shuffled past, heads down, barely glancing at the building. “Sure, but we’re still standing here casing the place. Feels like we might as well be holding a sign that says, ‘Up to no good.’ Especially since we were running from a patrol not even twelve hours ago.”

  Lena glanced up from her dataslate, giving him a reassuring smile. “Welcome to the Freeholders. Risk is part of the job, but we’re not reckless. Besides, we’re not exactly breaking into the Imperial treasury here.”

  “Yet,” Harlan added, his tone dry.

  Darius huffed a laugh and went back to watching the building. This was… more boring than he thought, really. Probably why Tarek and Corin hadn’t come along with them. He was starting to see a pattern there – everything was oddly normal most of the time, and then the next minute they were involved in a running gunfight.

  “Hey,” Darius started awkwardly, clearing his throat when Lena looked up. “About earlier… I wanted to apologise. I think I was a bit short with you.”

  She blinked, then shrugged, her expression open and unconcerned. “Don’t worry about it. I get it—stress, bad day, strange circumstances. We’ve all been there.”

  Darius felt a knot of tension loosen in his chest. “Thanks. I just… yeah. Appreciate it.”

  “No big deal,” Lena said with a grin, nudging his leg gently. “Besides, you’ve got nothing compared to when Tarek is in a mood. Trust me.”

  “Yeah, he seems a little… high-strung,” Darius smirked, returning his attention to the building. “So, what’s the plan? Just stroll in and start pulling files?”

  “Not quite.” Lena tapped a button on her dataslate, bringing up a map of the street. “We’re scoping the place first—cameras, entrances, any sign of trouble. Then we head in, nice and calm, low profile. Grab what we need and leave before anyone even realises we were there.”

  “Simple,” Harlan said, his gaze still locked on the building.

  “Simple, he says,” Darius mumbled under his breath. “What about cameras? Any blind spots?”

  Lena nodded toward a corner of the building where a camera hung limply, its casing streaked with rust. “That one’s dead—has been for weeks, judging by the dust. There’s another one over the main entrance, but it’s fixed. We can avoid it if we use the side door.”

  “And the side door isn’t monitored?” Darius asked sceptically.

  “Not anymore,” Lena said, smirking. “Let’s just say Imperial maintenance teams aren’t exactly thorough out here.”

  Harlan finally turned to face Darius, his expression calm but firm. “Look, I get it. You’re nervous. But this is how we operate. We do our homework, minimise risks, and move fast. The Empire’s strength is in their numbers and their tech, not in how they actually run their bureaucracy. We exploit that.”

  Darius shifted uncomfortably. “Still feels like a big risk for some records.”

  “Information is power,” Harlan said shortly, though Darius couldn’t shake the feeling that the man agreed with him.

  “It’s not just records,” Lena said, her voice softening. “Once we get what the big bosses want, we might have enough time to find out where the next shipment routes are—or even where they’re vulnerable, if we’re lucky.”

  “Right.” Darius exhaled, forcing himself to focus. “Okay, fine. Just tell me what to do.”

  “For now?” Harlan gestured toward the far end of the street. “Take a walk. Get a feel for the area. We’re planning on keeping this quiet, but it’s still an Imperial building. Even if we do everything right, there’s always a chance someone hits a silent alarm or something. If that happens, and we end up making a run for it, being familiar with the area can save precious seconds,” the man explained. “Check things out. We’ll regroup in fifteen.”

  Darius gave a reluctant nod, pulling his jacket tighter around him as he stepped away from the wall. The unease in his gut didn’t go away, but he pushed it down and forced himself to focus.

  If he was going to make himself valuable enough to the Freeholders that he could ask for resources, he wasn’t going to be able to half-ass this.

  “Any ideas, Echo?” he muttered as he walked.

  {I’m afraid I won’t be much use in helping you escape, or even in helping you break into the building itself. Security does not seem to be high enough to warrant any action, either.}

  Darius snorted. “Yeah, I didn’t expect you to grow a pair of arms and legs and start running around. I meant, do you think you could help retrieve the data they’re looking for? That’s the sort of thing a normal VI would be good at, and it might help impress the Freeholders.”

  {Ah, my mistake. While I am unsure as to how the data is stored exactly, if it is in digital format I should be able to bypass their security without too much effort.}

  “Great,” Darius murmured, feeling a flicker of hope. “Just as long as you don’t fry the system and trigger an alarm in the process.”

  {That would be rather counterproductive, wouldn’t it?} Echo replied dryly, its voice resonating in Darius’s mind.

  Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he strolled down the street, eyes darting between the crumbling buildings and the occasional pedestrian. The faint sound of grinding machinery echoed from nearby salvage yards, mingling with the distant howls of dust storms that often swept through Caldera IV.

  It felt… surprisingly good, actually, to be planning a mission like this. Darius wasn’t sure if it was purely because it felt like he was finally getting back at the Empire, or if it had anything to do with how he finally had something to work towards.

  In a funny way, the looming deadline of the nanite integration gave him clarity—something to focus on besides the vague, crushing hopelessness that had defined most of his life since getting caught up in this mess. He couldn’t afford to fail, not if he wanted to keep his brain intact and his body his own.

  As Darius rounded the corner, he slowed his pace, taking in the surroundings. The records office wasn’t far from one of the busier sectors of the station. The streets weren’t bustling, but there was a steady trickle of foot traffic—enough to blend in without drawing attention, as long as he kept his head down.

  “Alright, Echo,” he muttered under his breath, “see anything I’m missing?”

  {Several elements are worth noting,} Echo replied. {The side door Lena identified does appear to have minimal surveillance, but there is an access panel adjacent to it that could potentially serve as a secondary alarm trigger if tampered with improperly.}

  Darius frowned. “So if someone screws up opening the door, it could trip an alarm?”

  {Correct. However, that risk is mitigated by the fact that I can disable the panel if given direct access.}

  “Good to know.” He nodded to himself, making a mental note to tell Lena about the panel later.

  {Additionally, there is a public access point at the rear of the building. It is connected to a maintenance corridor that runs parallel to the main hall. This corridor could provide an alternate route, should an escape become necessary.}

  “That’s… actually helpful,” Darius admitted. “You’re full of surprises today.”

  {I aim to be efficient,} Echo said, its tone as neutral as ever.

  Darius finished his circuit of the block, carefully noting the rusted fire escape on a nearby building and the location of a small alley that could serve as a temporary hiding spot if things went sideways. When he returned to where Lena and Harlan waited, he felt a little more grounded—like he wasn’t completely flying blind for once.

  “Well?” Harlan asked as Darius approached.

  “No guards, no patrols,” Darius reported. “But there’s a maintenance corridor at the back that could work as an escape route if things go south. And the access panel by the side door might trigger an alarm if we don’t handle it right.”

  Lena raised an eyebrow. “Good eye. Anything else?”

  “Not much,” Darius said, shrugging. “Echo says it can handle the access panel remotely if we need to.”

  “Handy,” Lena said with a grin. “See? You’re already getting the hang of this.”

  Harlan gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable. “Alright. We go in as planned. Lena, you take the lead. Darius, you’re with me—backup in case anything doesn’t go to script.”

  “Got it,” Darius said, his nerves tightening despite his earlier confidence.

  Lena tucked her dataslate into her jacket and stood, brushing dust from her pants. “Let’s keep this clean and quiet. We’re in and out in ten minutes. No heroics, no improvising.”

  Darius sucked a breath in through his teeth teasingly. “Oooh, I don’t know, Lena. Improvising’s about ninety percent of what I do.”

  Lena rolled her eyes. “You’ll manage, I’m sure.”

  As the three of them crossed the street toward the records office, Darius felt a trickle of excitement slip down his spine. Then, just as Lena reached for the side door, a shrill, unmistakable alarm pierced the quiet street.

  They froze, every muscle tense.

  “Well,” Darius muttered, his heart pounding. “That’s not ideal.”

  25 chapters on !