Snippet #2671967

The reach of he Defense Sector was vast, to put it gently: Commander Blue had her metaphorical (or possibly, according to popular trainee rumor, literal,) eyes and ears embedded inside of every wall and behind each corner within Liberty’s reach. 



Highly specialized agents with glossy eyes and stiff gates droned up and down the halls of Alpha A according to some hive-minded algorithm devised by their leader, forming a backup net in readiness for internal threats. Even more buzzed about with a higher degree of subtlety- Technopaths, telepaths, and supersensories were arranged at desks across the dark-lit rows of Monitoring Stations. They stared at screens with vacant gazes, their minds and gifts all the while roving their assigned tracts in search of any disturbances. 


At one such desk in one such station, sat Moira Toulet (less affectionately known as SM862,) a low-leveled technopath with a close-cropped head of black hair and practically glowing blue eyes. Her gift was a simple one: She could comprehend the chippering interface language of machines without touching them, and she used it to mentally sweep her assigned block of base on a regular route.



Today, that route happened to encompass the lower specialized training block. 

An alarm on someone’s wrist whirred. A login from an Agent Colt clicked in. Someone recorded a daily schedule memo onto a recorder and… ”….send an encrypted report to Erubesco”



Moira’s gaze hardened, and she flicked her screen to showcase the video feeds of the block- Activate facial scans, take inventory of who was around for the statement, start tagging and placing security measures on anyone it could have been. While she knew that the reading had come from a pocket-sized device, there was no way of knowing which person in the vicinity had spoken. 



She started entering qualifiers.



Male voice- Eliminate women. 


Adult voice- Eliminate prepubescent males.


No accent of affect- Three more down. 



She replayed the feed twice more and narrowed it down to those whose mouths had been moving, leaving her with three possible suspects, all of whom she immediately tagged with bright red security flags that were superimposed over any image of them as they graced the other monitors. 

Two more clicks, and a base-wide alert was sent out to relevant defense Agents, excluding the potential suspects.



Bruce Cargal
Selim Sharp

Eric Murphy



All three were too close to the training sector for immediate engagement to be wise, but their names were dispatched out to another level of Defense to be scrutinized. Over the next ten minutes, a team of specialized Agents would be digging through their files and past appearances. 

In fifteen, the traitor would be confirmed.

In twenty, there would be a plan of action and the threat would be squashed. 



Having addressed the threat, Moira blinked and closed the alert form. Her gaze mellowed back into the same glassy vacancy as before, and the sweeps were resumed.