DIVISION 52 - BOOK I

CHAPTER XLVIII

–  S C O R P I O N  –

Sector 20. A part of the city that never quite knew where it stood among the classes. Not desperate enough to be caught up in trafficking of bodies and weapons... not high end enough to take a slice out of the city's lucrative drug trade.

They had Division 52 control of course. But I never found myself perusing the streets as I did in Sectors 40 to 52. Now was not the time to make a scene in any case. We needed to move as spectres from now on. Our planning, our movements–all needed to be kept in the shadows where the Imperials could not anticipate our next steps.

I moved with focus, ignoring the many holo screens notifying Merridian that the Emperor's daughter had now recovered from her "terrible illness" after many months. My eyes actively avoided the perfect image of Makayla Xavier's face that they splashed over the media. It made it too real. It made her too far away. It made her that pristine royal, a fake image, that pomp–

"This way, Scorpion." Proximo murmured darkly as he pulled a nondescript hooded cloak low.

I shrugged deeper into my own unremarkable clothing and watched his muscled back under a hood of my own. No guards trailed us. We were yet another couple of civilians walking among the puddles and coats of many.

Buildings were more clean cut and glass was used more heavily. It made the rain dance and the colours of the city bounce. No land vehicles roamed, this remained fusion craft territory.

We ducked into a thin and dark alley. Piles of trash heaped and rodents dashed between bags of reeking crap. It seemed that this Sector still had its cracks. At this rate I'd have a new pair of boots by the end of the night. As if reading my thoughts, Proximo booted a discarded box of rotting... something from our path. It smashed into a damp wall and scattered rats like insects.

"If I desired to walk through a sewer, I would have travelled back to that shit heap Hades calls a home." I quipped ahead.

Proximo turned the tattooed side of his face over one shoulder–it was struck with the bright blue of the neon holos high above.

"Perhaps you would like to show your own face in the Imperial tower? See how many steps you may take before becoming mist at the end of a plasma rifle." He retorted, not breaking stride.

I considered this.

"And what face would you wear to make it past the lobby?" I asked slowly over the rain.

"If you remember. We have ten to choose from." He said with a wicked smile.

Of course. The Imperial guard we had interrogated. The information we had gleaned even before they made the costly mistake of taking her from me.

"I want the blonde." I said curtly.

A snort sounded ahead as Proximo slowed before a metal door and turned to me.

"I'm aware you have taste but really..." He drawled.

I smirked at him under the hood that dripped liquid neon blue. "Should I get the chance–I want to tease her Imperial majesty before I need to reveal myself."

"Try not to blow our cover before we even have the asset, Scorpion."

I didn't respond. I watched instead as he held a finger to the intercomm and a crackle sounded before a beep. A quick bioscan ran over his features and the door made a large metallic clang. He wrenched the door back that looked ready to hold back a hit squad. His arm gestured for me with a smug look.