Weeks passed after Jack decrypted the codes from his enigmatic contact, and the silence that followed gnawed at him. He and Artemis had spent days attempting to trace the signal that had infiltrated his hand tablet, but every effort ended in frustration. The signal was a ghost, leaving no trail behind. Jack's irritation grew with each failure. Rarely had he encountered a puzzle he couldn’t solve. Patterns and problem-solving had always been his forte, the foundation of his talent with technology. Fixing broken systems, assembling and disassembling parts—it was all just a matter of finding the right fit. And when something couldn’t be fixed, its pieces could always serve another purpose.

  But this felt different. This was a puzzle without an edge, no way to contain it. It was as if someone was deliberately taunting him, exploiting that stubborn part of his brain that refused to accept defeat. The lack of answers began to eat at him, and as the days of silence stretched on, irritation gave way to worry—and then to paranoia. Where had the chits come from? Was he being set up for something?

  To protect himself, Jack transferred the chits to a credit stick through an isolated internal system, one completely disconnected from the cybernet. It was the only way he could ensure the money couldn’t be traced—or worse, tied back to him if it turned out to be dirty. He didn’t trust its origins, but he also couldn’t ignore what it could do for Sophia and himself.

  When the delivery bot arrived with groceries—more than they’d seen in years—Sophia’s suspicion was immediate.

  “Where did you get the money for all of this?” she asked, unease lacing her voice as she stared at the abundance of food.

  “I asked for an advance,” Jack said casually, keeping his tone light.

  Sophia crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “What did you do, Jack?”

  Jack sighed, giving her his best sheepish smile. “Why are you always assuming the worst? It’s an advance. I swear.” He hesitated, then pulled a small red bag from behind his back, tied neatly at the top with a pink ribbon. “Besides, how can you complain when I got you these?”

  Sophia’s eyes darted to the bag, and she rolled her eyes as she snatched it from him. “You think chocolate is going to make me forget how sketchy this all is?”

  “Yes?” Jack replied hesitantly, his grin faltering.

  Sophia shook her head, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “You’re impossible.”

  Relief washed over Jack as she turned back to unpack the groceries, but the weight in his chest didn’t lift. The silence from the hacker still lingered, a shadow in the back of his mind, whispering that this was far from over.

  Work became Jack’s refuge, a distraction from the enigmatic hacker who had upended his life only to vanish without explanation. The buzz of the lab and the camaraderie of his team kept his thoughts occupied. Despite their rough edges, Jack genuinely enjoyed working with his ragtag group of technicians. Their banter was constant, a mix of sarcasm and wit that gave the lab a sense of life. Even Naomi, with her sharp tongue and gruff demeanor, had grown on him. Beneath her tough exterior, Jack sensed someone who genuinely cared, even if she hid it well.

  Naomi had tasked their team with developing a new security system for the super core, a direct result of their success in identifying the virus that had compromised it. The challenge excited Jack, and he quickly realized how skilled his team truly was. Bella, with her relentless curiosity, could dissect the most complex systems in minutes, while Amos’s deep technical expertise and John’s unconventional creativity often led to innovative solutions. Jack, however, brought a fresh perspective that complemented their abilities. His persistence and knack for finding patterns often pushed the team further than they thought possible.

  Despite their teasing and banter, they worked seamlessly together, and Jack found himself feeling a sense of belonging he hadn’t experienced in a long while. The lab became more than just a workplace—it was a place where he could immerse himself in the complexity of the task, channeling his restless energy into building something meaningful. It didn’t erase the gnawing thoughts about the hacker, but it gave him a reprieve, a purpose that dulled the edge of his unease.

  The lab buzzed with activity, the sound of tools humming and holo-terminals flickering filling the air as the team worked on the new security protocols for the super core. Jack leaned over a schematic, tapping his pen against the table as he considered a particularly complex subroutine. Amos and John were bickering about the best way to implement an adaptive firewall, while Bella sat perched on a stool nearby, jotting down notes on a tablet.

  “Grunt, you want to weigh in here, or are you just going to stare at that schematic all day?” Naomi’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and teasing.

  Jack glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you keep calling me that?” he asked, setting the pen down. “You’ve been doing it since day one.”

  Naomi paused mid-step, crossing her arms as a faint shadow passed over her face. “My brother was a grunt,” she said evenly. “Hell Jumper in the First Orbital Regiment. He died in combat on Venus.”

  The room went quiet for a moment, the usual chatter fading as her words hung in the air. Jack nodded, understanding the weight behind them. “I’m sorry,” he said simply, his tone soft but sincere.

  Naomi shrugged, her expression unreadable. “It was a long time ago,” she said, her voice quieter now. “But when you walked in here, I could see it on you—that same look. The one guys like him wore after they came back.”

  Bella, breaking the silence with her usual curiosity, looked at Jack. “You were in the military?” she asked, tilting her head. “Did you ever do an orbital jump?”

  Jack chuckled softly, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “A few times,” he admitted. “It’s not as glamorous as the vids make it look. More like being hurled at a planet inside a metal coffin and hoping the thrusters don’t fail.”

  Bella’s eyes widened. “That sounds… terrifying.”

  “It was,” Jack said, his smile fading slightly as the memories flickered in his mind. “But you get used to it. Or at least, you tell yourself that.”

  Naomi nodded, her tone softer now. “He always said it wasn’t the jump that scared him—it was what waited at the bottom.”

  A fleeting look passed between them, and for a moment, Jack thought he caught a glimpse of fondness in Naomi’s usually guarded expression. It was gone just as quickly as it came. She smoothed her technician’s coat and straightened, her tone sharp once more. “Don’t go staring at me all doe-eyed, Grunt. I still don’t like you.”

  “I like you, Jack!” John called from across the lab, flashing a mischievous grin.

  Naomi rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m glad you think he’s cute, John. Now get back to work before I assign you to printer maintenance. I’m still not entirely convinced you’re not a complete data leak.”

  The team burst into laughter, and even Jack couldn’t help but smirk as he turned back to his holo-terminal. The banter was relentless, but it was moments like this that reminded him why he was starting to feel at home here.

  As the days passed, the team worked tirelessly, inching closer to completing the new security system. Each layer of the system was scrutinized under Naomi’s watchful eye, her meticulous nature ensuring every component met her high standards before she gave it the green light. Despite her sharp tongue, her leadership was undeniable, and the team responded with equal parts respect and begrudging admiration.

  The air in the lab grew charged with anticipation as they reached the final stages. Preparing the super core for transfer into the newly built security framework required careful precision, and everyone played their part. The hum of holo-terminals and the faint whir of tools filled the room as the team double-checked connections and ran simulations.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Then the door hissed open, and the atmosphere shifted.

  Kwame strode into the lab, his presence like a shadow cutting through the buzz of activity. His predatory gaze swept across the room, lingering on each of them in turn. His suit was as immaculate as always, the glowing blue trim along his lapels catching the light, but his smile—sharp and hollow—never reached his cold, cybernetic eyes.

  The room fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of the core. Naomi straightened, her jaw tightening as Kwame’s gaze settled on her. Jack exchanged a wary glance with Bella, who quickly looked down, pretending to focus on her terminal. Amos leaned slightly against a workstation, his posture stiff, while John stayed unusually quiet, his grin subdued.

  “Miss Voss,” Kwame said, his tone soft but carrying an edge that cut through the room like a knife.

  “You’re intruding on my work as always, Kwame,” Naomi shot back, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice as she straightened at her workstation.

  “I’m receiving reports of restricted access to the data core,” Kwame said, ignoring her pointed tone entirely. His gaze was sharp, unwavering.

  Naomi didn’t flinch. “We’re transferring the files to the new security system,” she said flatly. “So yes, there has been access.”

  Kwame took a deliberate step closer, his presence casting a heavier shadow over the room. “You are the only one here who has been granted clearance to manage the data on this piece of tech,” he said, his words slow and precise, like a veiled accusation.

  Jack, leaning against his station, folded his arms. “Do you want her to transfer everything herself?” he asked, his tone challenging.

  Kwame turned his gaze on Jack, the weight of his stare unsettling. Those cybernetic eyes seemed to pierce through him, searching for something beneath the surface. “I expect proper security protocols to be followed,” he said evenly, his voice devoid of emotion. “This is exactly why the core was compromised in the first place.”

  Jack opened his mouth to respond, but Naomi cut him off, stepping forward. For a brief moment, a flicker of fear flashed across her face—quick, but unmistakable. “Once our system is complete, I’ll initiate the transfer of all data myself,” she said firmly, her voice steady despite the tension in her expression. “Now, get out of my lab.”

  The brief flicker of fear in Naomi’s expression stayed with Jack long after Kwame had left the lab. It was out of character for the sharp, unyielding genius he had come to respect. Naomi didn’t break often, and when she did, it was always when Kwame was around. Her silence and the way her shoulders slouched as she returned to her work gnawed at Jack. Something about Kwame put her off balance, and whatever it was, it unsettled Jack too.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something critical, but he knew better than to press her. Naomi didn’t respond well to probing questions, and Jack had learned to pick his battles. For now, he pushed his curiosity aside and immersed himself in his work with the team. The puzzle of Naomi and Kwame would have to wait.

  Later that evening, as they were shutting down the lab, Jack’s hand tablet vibrated, connecting to an external source without warning. The display flickered for a moment, then steadied. Jack froze mid-step, staring at the screen as unease coiled in his gut.

  “Jack, you coming?” Amos called, pausing near the exit with his bag slung over his shoulder.

  Jack glanced up briefly, forcing a neutral expression. “Yeah, just give me a second. I need to make a call.”

  Amos nodded, his boots clicking against the floor as he headed out the door. The moment the lab was empty, Artemis materialized beside Jack, his presence sharper than usual, almost eager.

  “Master, shall I attempt a trace?” Artemis asked, the faintest hint of excitement in his voice.

  “Yes,” Jack said, then paused, an idea forming. Whoever was behind this was careful—dangerously so. “Start simple. Whoever this is, they’re smart, so we need to stay subtle. Try something rudimentary—see if you can triangulate the source code without drawing attention.”

  “Understood, Master,” Artemis said, his holographic hands already moving to pull up diagnostic overlays that floated before him.

  The screen flickered, and a message appeared:

  Jack, I hope you found my gift favorable.

  Jack stared at the words, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before he typed his response.

  Who are you?

  The reply came almost instantly:

  As I said, a friend.

  Jack felt his frustration spike. The cryptic tone was as infuriating as it was unnerving. Whoever this person was, they clearly enjoyed their games. Artemis worked silently beside him, triangulating data streams and analyzing patterns.

  “Master,” Artemis said, his tone tinged with caution, “this connection is highly encrypted. However, I’m detecting faint triangulation signatures—deliberately obfuscated but not impossible to trace. The origin point appears to be shifting.”

  “Keep tracking,” Jack muttered. “Let’s see if they slip up.”

  Another message appeared on the screen:

  Jack, I am not your enemy. I need your help. I believe CyberTech is building a superweapon. Some time ago, I uncovered a plot while accessing a chat log between two executives from the upper echelons of CyberTech. They mentioned a project called Eagle Eye. The details were vague, but the project’s file location is within the data core. I can’t access it externally. Showing you the bombing was so you could see for yourself the lengths these people are willing to go to win. There is no black and white here, only evil. 5 super cores are being made in total, one for each planet of the Empire. They will be linked to a central hub. You’re a smart man, you can work out the possibilities of these cores and the potential destruction they can cause.

  Jack read the message twice, his mind racing. The mention of a superweapon made his stomach twist. He had already harbored his own suspicions about the data cores being more than they seemed, but seeing his fears mirrored in this message was unnerving. He stared at the glowing words on the screen, his fingers hovering over the keys. After a moment of hesitation, he typed:

  So you’re trying to turn me into an inside agent? What’s to stop me from just reporting this?

  The response was immediate:

  You will gain nothing by reporting me. All evidence will be destroyed as soon as this signal disconnects, and no one will believe you. The higher executives will hunt you down and slaughter you. I chose you for a reason, Jack.

  Jack leaned back, his jaw tightening. The words sent a chill through him—not just because of the threat but because of the confidence they exuded. Whoever this was, they were certain of their power, certain that Jack had no other choice.

  “Master, I need you to stall him,” Artemis said, his holographic form flickering slightly as he worked. “This encryption is highly advanced. He’s very good, but I’m close to identifying the shifting signal pattern.”

  Jack nodded, his mind scrambling for something to say. Typing quickly, he responded:

  You don’t know anything about me. How do I know anything you’re saying is true?

  The words burned on the screen, each one digging into Jack’s thoughts like a blade.

  I know you were sent to the naval academy at fifteen after the death of your father. Colonel Mentone sponsored and paid your way in. Augustus Mentone had been the only true father you had, he was a mentor and he loved you. You mourn his death by visiting his grave every year and leaving a bottle of whiskey. You were one of the only kids who wasn’t the child of some politico at the academy. Because of this your classmates isolated you. You were the top of your class. You scored the highest ever seen in space maneuvering and piloting. You were offered a chance at tutelage under the fleet commander, Admiral Rashimbo. Shortly after graduating at the age of twenty and accepting your commission in the Marine Corps’ Second Orbital Regiment, you married Sophia Byrne. You were severely injured in Vermillion; Lakota Company suffered over seventy-five percent casualties. You are one of the few survivors of your company. You watched the atomics fall over Vermillion as the Empire turned its own city to ash. You watched as the Red Lord of Mars did nothing to stop Admiral Baines from killing millions.

  Jack’s blood ran cold. His fingers hovered over the keys, his body frozen as his mind raced. These were facts—details about his life that weren’t just private but safeguarded. The naval academy didn’t release personal histories, and its officers were bound by strict oaths of silence. The Academy’s secrecy was a cornerstone of its prestige. For someone to know this much meant they had access to things they shouldn’t—things no outsider could possibly reach.

  He forced himself to type, his fingers trembling slightly.

  Why me?

  The response came quickly:

  Your personality construct indicates a strong sense of righteousness. I need someone who will do the right thing. People are going to die, Jack.

  Jack’s breath hitched as he read the words, the weight of their implication pressing down on him. He typed the only question that mattered.

  What do you need me to do?

  I am uploading a file cracker to your hand tablet, it will destroy any trace of use after you access a file with it. Access the data core and retrieve the file for Project Eagle Eye. And tell your AI to stop tracing me—it’s useless. My code is on a repeater bouncing across the planet’s satellites. He’ll never find me.

  Jack swallowed hard, glancing at Artemis, who stood motionless, his holographic form flickering faintly. The AI’s brow furrowed as if deep in thought, but he said nothing. Jack typed again.

  How do I contact you?

  You don’t. I find you.

  The connection dropped. The holo-display went black, leaving Jack staring at his reflection in the faint glow of the inactive screen. His heart pounded as the full weight of what had just happened settled over him. Whoever this “friend” was, they had access to him in ways he couldn’t defend against. They knew him, his past, and how to manipulate him. And now, they’d left him with a choice that could alter everything.

  “Master,” Artemis said quietly. “They weren’t lying. The signal’s trace was routed through planetary satellites—cleverly masked, nearly impossible to pin down.”

  Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Figures. They wanted me to know they were untouchable.”

  “Indeed,” Artemis said, his voice soft. “Do you trust them?”

  Jack didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the blank screen, the lingering sense of helplessness slowly giving way to determination. “No,” he finally said, his voice firm. “But I need to know what’s on that file. But first we find out who the fuck is contacting me.”