Remorse is for the Dead, attn: Maris ; Fish Mission

Avery might have been new to the rank, but he wasn’t new to the job. He knew what he was doing, and he knew when a job required a heavier hand than initially seemed necessary. Sending in a newly minted Grand Marshal to deal with some already-captured terrorists might have seemed like overkill, but this would be a reminder. This would keep Manda and any who might have been influenced there by the Alliance under control. He could have sent most any of his subordinates to do this job, but he was choosing to take it quite personal.

The contingent of personnel on the shuttle was surprisingly light, perhaps, unless one knew precisely who the woman next to him was. Maris Kala’myr was a deceptive individual, one that Avery himself had only recently come into full knowledge of. Upon finding out that the unassuming personal assistant of Grand Admiral Borinth was a Human Replica Droid programmed for assassination protocol, Avery had been unable to resist the idea of the possibilities she presented.

So, upon realizing that dear old Rusis probably wasn’t utilizing the droid nearly so well as he should, Avery had practically demanded use of the woman, insisting she would be brought back unharmed in a couple of days. They were taking a trip, and no, Rusis was not invited. The Grand Admiral had known better than to put up a strong resistance. They were, after all, in this together, right?

The Firebrand remained in a low orbit of the planet behind them, the shuttle obviously a military transport but it was a comfortable fit for its passengers who were familiar with such. All it needed to do was get them to the surface where the militia was waiting with their imprisoned rebels, and it was more than sufficient for the task.

He glanced at his travel companion, having talked to her only briefly before now. Knowing she was a droid didn’t lessen his respect for her--she was a dangerous ally, and one he fully intended to treat well. So long as she served her purpose, they would get along splendidly. The rest of the soldiers with them on this mission would be kept at something of a distance, allowing Maris to do her work without witnesses, the men only meant to be nearby if something went awry. And with Maris here, the Grand Marshal did not expect it would.

They touched down on the planet, and Avery wasn’t sure precisely what they would find here. How willing the local miltia would be to work with them was unclear, though the fact that they had fought and captured rebels told him they did have similar enemies. At the very least he was here to make sure the terrorists died. Prisoners weren’t safe in his world, and it wasn’t cost effective to give them a trial when they were so clearly guilty. No one needed to know they haven’t been given that fashion of ‘justice.’

“For now, keep your eyes open,” he told the droid. “If the locals are hiding anything, I want to know about it immediately.” That was all the specifics he had in mind for her at this exact second. Until what small amount of information he had been given could be confirmed, he had to act as if he was walking into this blind.

The shuttle opened onto a plaza lit by the midday sunlight. The air was pleasant enough and the capital city of Aroo was a decent civilization. It was a temperate world without the cold edge that Dolomar possessed, and in some ways that made it seem soft and vulnerable. He would be surprised if this mission turned out overly difficult. He had enough firepower in orbit to keep the militia from doing anything foolish.

((Who is there to greet Avery and Maris? What do they say on the matter of the recently captured rebel officers?))

The Confederate contingent was expected. Waiting for them is one General Officer Sarah Domen, a human woman, and the leader of Aroo's local milita. As they disembark, she snaps off a crisp salute.

"Welcome to Aroo, sir." She says. "We have the prisoners in containment at our militia headquarters. Shall I take you to them now?"

Rishi had been a success beyond measure. There had been a significant probability in such a clandestine undertaking that her involvement in the death of Lelouch Villa would come to light. Discovery meant death, but not in a literal – human – sense. The Confederation would be stupid to dispose of such an asset. But they had an advantage with Maris. Unlike an organic asset, High Command could discover what went wrong and rectify the situation. Whatever rogue process had wormed its way into her operations could be purged. The assassin had been careful in covering her tracks and ensuring that the termination not lead back to her. Maris was excellent at what she did and that wasn't arrogance talking. The data spoke to her skill in the art of the kill.

Maris did what she normally did in the weeks following, monitoring data feeds and intel alerts. Every piece of information concerning the investigation was analysed and processed. But if they were coming for her, the droid wouldn't hear about it until it was too late. Those that owned her were not ignorant to her abilities. There were no leads, no witnesses, and every opportunity. The Villa inquiry denoted the death as a mugging, as Maris had ensured. She had assassinated a Confederate Brigadier without order and gotten away with it.

The shuttle juddered in atmospheric entry and the droid barely moved. She stared forward, sitting beside her new master, as if a pleasant day dream if the look on her face was anything to go by. As usual she was immaculate, makeup pristine and long blonde hair secured in a neat bun. Piercing crystalline blue eyes sat behind black rimmed glasses that served no purpose other than style. The droid was dressed as an aide to a Grand Marshal should have been. The fabric of the jacket and knee length skirt was cut from the blackest cloth available, rumoured to have been fabricated inside the singularity of a black hole. The whites of the blouse beneath were blinding.

The hull shifted and creaked with landing, the engines whining through the durasteel and shuddering the riveted plates. Maris stood in unison with her master and gave him a pleasant smile. She had not been off Dolomar since Rishi and even longer in an official capacity. She cradled a data-slate with finely manicured fingernails, an inferior device compared to the user but it was a necessary prop in the repartee of an attaché.

“For now, keep your eyes open. If the locals are hiding anything, I want to know about it immediately.”

"Of course, Grand Marshal Marin." Maris chirped with another smile. A query was run as to why she would close her eyes in the first place. It seemed a dangerous prospect on a non-compliant world. Maris wished to ensure that the Grand Marshal knew she would not be closing her eyes for any extended duration.

With the hiss of pneumatics, Maris followed beside the Grand Marshal as he walked the boarding ramp and stepped foot on Manda. The human female awaiting their arrival was scrutinised. No threat registered. The nametag stitched to the uniform was scanned and stored for later use. Maris smiled amiably towards the woman and gave her a slight and respectable nod.

"Welcome to Aroo, sir. We have the prisoners in containment at our militia headquarters. Shall I take you to them now?"

The droid waited obediently at the Grand Marshal's side, ready and willing to act upon any order that he gave, and also ensure his life.
"Officer Domen, the Grand Admiral requires full network access for the duration of the investigation. Please provide all network data encrypts and security keys." The droid asked politely, but given the company kept and the Acclamator class star destroyer docked at high orbit, the request could not be easily denied.

((Does Domen fulfil the request? And what are they greeted with at the militia headquarters?))

Domen hesitates, one eyebrow cocking at the request. She had known that the Confederation would come for the Alliance leaders, but not that they would want full access to the network. She does have the ability to grant that kind of power however, and she nods again. "Of course, Ma'am."

They are provided with a land car to the militia headquarters, and upon arrival at the facility, they are brought to Domen's offices, where she provides them with access to the networks, though, she is still reluctant.

Afterwards, she brings the pair to the holding cells, where the Alliance leaders are kept. There are three in all, tied to chairs facing away from each other, and their mouths stuffed with rags. Their eyes are bright however, alert, and they stare at Maris and Avery as they approach.

"We haven't even been able to extract names." Domen says, her eyes flicking to the militia guards around them. "But we're certain these are the leaders of the resistance."

"Of course, Grand Marshal Marin."

Maris operated as expected, and for that the Grand Marshal was pleased. She had been denoted as efficient and completely on-task, and she was proving nothing otherwise so far. Rusis might not have liked it much, but it seemed Maris understood where her loyalties lay--to the Confederation as a whole and not to one particular Grand Admiral.

Together they approached the official looking woman waiting for them. At least they were expected and appropriately intercepted. He looked to the militia woman expectantly as they approached.

"Welcome to Aroo, sir. We have the prisoners in containment at our militia headquarters. Shall I take you to them now?"

“If you would, thank you,” he stated pleasantly, seeing absolutely no need to treat the woman coldly. She was being cooperative straight off, and that was all he could really ask of her for now. She was direct and to the point, which was appreciated in this situation. Much as he did tend to dally around with conversation on occasion, there were times when getting on point was preferable. The quicker they nipped this situation in the bud, the better.

"Officer Domen, the Grand Admiral requires full network access for the duration of the investigation. Please provide all network data encrypts and security keys."
"Of course, Ma'am."

Silently approving of Maris’ request and approving even more of the ultimate decision by Domen, despite her initial hesitation, Avery clasped his hands behind his back and followed Domen to the waiting vehicle. It wasn’t easy, giving over full access, he was sure, but her ultimate answer had been the only right answer. Any other would have only caused problems for her, and would have probably done little to stop Maris from gettin access in the end.

The ride wasn’t a long one, and the stop at Domen’s office for the security access was also short. Her reluctance was noted, but not questioned. He actually couldn’t blame her for being wary. So long as the women or any of the militia didn’t given the Confederate contingent any trouble, it wasn’t going to be an issue. While complete subservience would have been preferred, at least they were getting results.

They left her office and approached the holding cell. The three alleged terrorists were there, bound and gagged. They were bright-eyed and clearly understood what was going on as the Confederate pair approached. Avery wondered briefly if any of them were smart enough to realize who he was and what that might mean for them. He watched their eyes for any sign of this particular understanding.

"We haven't even been able to extract names. But we're certain these are the leaders of the resistance."

“Names aren’t important,” Avery concluded by way of dismissal. “Not now, at least. What were they up to when you managed to capture them? The reports aren’t terribly specific as to those details, and I am mighty curious as to how you managed this particular victory.” He turned a smile on Domen, ignoring the three Alliancers listening in--for now.

((Do any of the alliancers show any particular recognition of the Grand Marshal? What does Domen have to report?))

If the Alliancers recognize Avery, they don't show it. They can tell that he is important, however. The air is heavy with the smell of sweat and desperation, and not just around the Alliancers. Though all of the rebels bound to hard metal chairs, their wrists and feet secured with heavy binders, the guards and the one interrogator present are also looking particularly weary and nervous.

None of them really have signs of being beaten, just a little wear and tear from the recent skirmish. The local militia obviously practices finesse with its interrogations, but even under the duress of chemicals and other techniques, no information had been given, a testament to the rebels' strength.

When the pair of Confederates draw closer, they see that one of the rebels is a Ayrou, her feathery hair matted with sweat, and an extra large gag stuffed into her mouth. Another is a male Zeltron, and he looks the worse, his head bowing to rest his chin against his chest after he sees who the visitors are. The last is a human male, who simply continues to stare at Avery and Maris, defiant. He has an air of spiteful confidence about him.

Domen clasps her hands behind her back, naturally standing at attention under Avery's smile. She does not smile back, and the sound of harsh breathing from the rebels fills the air as she considers her answer.

"Sir." She starts, "The Alliance cell gained access to the Baobab Archives and were streaming information to a remote location. We were alerted when locals reported disturbances around the archives, and when we discovered the scale of the operation, the militia was sent in. Only a few escaped and we are still trying to determine what information they took."

"Of course, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Officer Domen." Maris replied, beaming the woman a smile that lasted a second too long. The reasons behind the request were many. Security was one of the main concerns. Jacked into the network, Maris could monitor the surveillance feeds for the entire complex, eavesdrop on communications and data packets streaming to and from the facility, and control who sees what. There was also the consideration of parsing the existing data regarding the captured rebels. Maris could familiarize herself with the pertinent details in less time than it took their gracious guide to give over the encrypts.

The second after the keys were provided to the droid, a series of connections spawned to various virtual locations throughout the facility. The server farms were besieged with requests and thousands of simple programs trolled the arrays for information regarding Alliance operations on Manda and the subsequent arrests. Maris brought herself up to speed on current events as they approached the holding cells. Complex pattern matching algorithms parsed the data collected, analyzing the sometimes tenuous links in comprehension that could break open a case.

Maris' olfactory processors detected trace elements of sodium, potassium, calcium, and magnesium in the air atop of the compounds normally found in Manda's atmosphere. The high parts per million count gave the room a cloying stench. The droid regarded the three as she entered, giving the terrorists a misplaced smile as they received a once over. Their biometrics were analyzed and submitted for verification against various databases.

Only one of the terrorist prisoners made eye contact with her as she studied their features. Maris maintained the gaze, staring back with crystal blue eyes shielded behind black rimmed glasses. Evaluating the human from a psychological standpoint, it was logical assumption that he would be the hardest to break. Her eyes roamed to the Zeltron with his head lagging. Body language and past experience said he would break before the others. She turned to the Grand Marshal and Domen.

“Names aren’t important. […] The reports aren’t terribly specific as to those details, and I am mighty curious as to how you managed this particular victory.”

"Sir. The Alliance cell gained access to the Baobab Archives and were streaming information to a remote location. […] Only a few escaped and we are still trying to determine what information they took."

Maris gave the Grand Marshal a slight nod indicating Domen was being truthful. The events given matched documented reports. Stress analysis also failed to reveal anything untoward coming from their liaison.

((Does the data Maris pulled from the Aroo servers give any insights into the case? Does biometric analysis provide the identities of any of the men? If so, what leverage does that give the Grand Marshal?))

From what Maris can glean from the servers, Domen is being mostly open with them. The details of the heist seem to have been kept off of public servers as well. Similarly, the insurgents before them were thorough in their work. Maris can find nothing about their identities except that they, or people who looked like them, were registered as having arrived on the planet several years before. None of them were born on Manda it seems.

The captured terrorists might not have recognized Avery for precisely who he was, but they seemed to understand what he was. They knew he was trouble. He commended them for having at least that much sense. Still, they were fools, like all those who thought they could defy galactic rule. The Confederation was stronger than anything these pests could manage to drudge up. Whatever they had managed—or not managed, if their capture indicated anything—here on Manda was likely unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

He also noted that he interrogator and the guards here on duty weren’t looking particularly thrilled with the company they had just received. Either that or something else was drawing at their moods. What that could be, though, wasn’t at all clear. They were the ones in power here, after all, they had the upper hand. Never one to rule out deception, Avery didn’t trust any of them. They didn’t need to be made aware of this fact, though.

His visage maintained a light smile even as he studied these ‘rebel leaders,’ pleased to see that at least the Zeltron seemed to have broken to some degree. An Ayrou wasn’t a common sight, and it was curious to see her here, as they were usually quite peaceful. Maybe she just protested the Confederacy’s military might, and had joined the Alliance with some silly sense of bringing peace into line earlier. Unlucky for her, then, that she’d be dying today.

The human male, however, seemed quite unbroken, despite the worn state of his body. He looked tired, but his eyes burned defiantly even as Avery met his gaze. He was the truest adversary of the three, then. Maybe he’d be the first to die in that case, serve as a weakening point for the others. But not yet. Death wasn’t foremost on the agenda.

"Sir. The Alliance cell gained access to the Baobab Archives and were streaming information to a remote location. […] Only a few escaped and we are still trying to determine what information they took."

A slight glance towards Maris at his side caught the nod and thus the confirmation that all seemed to be in line. Interesting scenario, and one that did rather explain the presence of the Ayrou. They were good with information and gathering said information. Though it did beg the question—what information had they broken in for, and had they gotten what they were looking for?

“Keep looking into that. Have you had any success finding out where they tapped the information out to? Or tried tracking down those who escaped?” The look he settled on Domen made it clear he hoped they had at least tried both, and if they hadn’t they were expected to.

He then looked to the interrogator who had been working over the prisoners. “Ungag the men, if you would please. Leave the Ayrou as she is. I would like to see if our friends here can confirm or deny the story that has been constructed without their help.”

((Does Domen have an answer to Avery’s question? Does the interrogator do as requested, and if so, how do the prisoners react to the implied question, if at all?))

Nodding once again to the given orders, Domen glances at one of her aides, who leaves without a word, presumably to continue the investigation. Then, turning back to Avery she says, "We managed to track the stream to one house within the city limits, but we found evidence of the information being sent to a hyperspace messenger pod and we lost the signal when it entered hyperspace."

While she talks, the interrogator complies with Avery's orders as well. Both the Zeltron and the human start sputtering and moving their tongues about in their mouths as the gags are removed. Then, the human's head snaps up, focusing back on Avery. "He conducts this room like a concert hall." He spits, presumably to the Zeltron, an almost manic smile stretching across his thin face. "So, sure in his music, so sure the audience will dance."

He laughs, the sound harsh and cracked as his lips. "It isn't that kind of show, sir." The human says the word as if he's referring to refuse stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "Your song will end, and this captive audience will be none the poorer for it. We'll give you nothing."

"We managed to track the stream to one house within the city limits, but we found evidence of the information being sent to a hyperspace messenger pod and we lost the signal when it entered hyperspace."

Of course they had lost it. If it had been worth the effort, he would have scoffed about that. If this little motley team could get in and steal information out from under this government’s nose, he wasn’t surprised that they had failed the keep the information from heading off planet. Hopefully it wasn’t anything important, or Avery was going to have to make more examples than just the rebel leaders gathered here.

He dwelled only briefly on that thought while he watched the captives be released from their silenced states. The human’s head snapped back up after a moment, locking gazed with the Grand Marshal. Neither flinched from the daring connection.

"He conducts this room like a concert hall. So, sure in his music, so sure the audience will dance."

If Avery was put out at all by being ‘called out’ in such a way, he didn’t show it. He did, however, know now that it was very likely that this man would be the first to die. He was trouble. He could tell just by the man’s tone. Whether he was the leader of this little trio or just happened to be the gutsiest among them didn’t particularly matter.

"It isn't that kind of show, sir. Your song will end, and this captive audience will be none the poorer for it. We'll give you nothing."

That wasn’t so. At the very least, they’d be giving him their lives. Maybe that wasn’t worth much, but it was something. If he couldn’t have their information, he’d at least have the satisfaction of putting a bolt in each of them. He was somewhat tempted to do so immediately with the troublesome man, save himself the effort of talking to him. But he had to be a little more positive, first, that there was nothing more to gain from keeping him alive.

For the moment he actually broke the gaze he had with the defiant man, glancing first towards Maris and then towards Domen. “I’d like it if Miss Kala’myr could be given access to the place where the information was taken from. I need to stay here, but I believe that looking over the scene of the incident may also prove useful. Whatever Miss Kala’myr asks for, consider it by my own request.” He posed it as a thoughtful request, but in reality it was an imposing order. He would not be told no.

“Maris, perhaps you can help them find out what they’re missing. I know how ingenious you can be. A different set of eyes might go a long way,” he addressed the HRD directly. Certainly she’d be faster at locating the missing—or copied—data than whatever muddling sentients they had working over there now.

With that taken care of—and Maris effectively dismissed to go do what she must—he turned back to the captives. He smiled again, his stance casual and his arms folding across his uniformed chest. “So, here’s the thing. You’ve clearly already accomplished what you set out to do. Telling me whether or not Officer Domen and her men are on the right track in their deduction of the situation isn’t going to hurt anything, is it?”

((How do our lovely little captives respond, if at all? And is Maris shown the way to the scene of the information-stealing? Does Domen put up any fuss about this? Does Avery have to do some shooting after all? D:))

The only fuss Domen gives up is a deep frown in Avery's direction and then a nod of acknowledgement. With the Confederation coming in and disrupting all of her operations, it's somewhat understandable. Turning to Maris, she nods again and then gives the 'ladies first' gesture towards the door.

The woman says nothing as she leads the droid out of the facility to a groundcar that immediately takes them to the Baobab Archives. It is a huge building, with a soaring arched roof, and contained within the main library are massive servers that reach towards the ceiling. Beyond that are the storage units for non-digital data; everything from books and scrolls to tanned skins and carved stones. Upon walking in, Maris is presented with the last remaining example of Dha Werda Verda, the Mandalorian epic poem displayed proudly in the foyer.

As a vast repository of knowledge collected from all over the galaxy the Archives are an invaluable source of information. Despite the disruption from the break-in, scholars and scientists still bustle through its halls, forever working to increase the Archive's database. Domen leads Maris along a direct trail through the server towers, to the scene of the crime, roped off with holographic red tape. The rebel equipment is still there, wired into an open node on the server, though the interfaces are grayed out without power. With a tight smile, the woman turns back to Maris. "There you have it, ma'am. The best our forensic team is on this case. I really hope you can see something they can't."

---

Though Avery is now alone with Domen's guards and the prisoners, the cell seems much more cramped. Following Avery's question, there is a short silent and then the human snorts. "Well, it wouldn't help either." He says. Glancing up to meet Avery's eyes, he grins. "Can you hear it?"

"It isn't that kind of show, sir. […] We'll give you nothing."

Brave words, even if his talk of shows and songs had her perplexed. There were too many avenues of investigation spawning from such abstract language. The prisoner spoke as if this was a performance, and in many ways he was correct. He spoke of the Grand Marshal's song ending, most likely a threat. However chained as he was and with Maris in the room, there was no threat the man could produce. But computations executed upon his tone and body language, even while restrained, displayed determination and truth to the words. Even if the condemned terrorist knew that he could do nothing, his convictions remained.

However there was one point that the droid wished to comment on if she had been more willful. Every species had a limit to how much physical damage it could take before being destroyed. Even Maris was included in that. What, however, was less empirical but just as well studied was the mental strain required to break a man. The Confederation of Dolomar had all but perfected such techniques and a repository of their twisted knowledge was stored within the droid. The human may have been rebellious now, but he would break eventually. Then he would give them everything. Maris watched the exchange with indifference and a smile, waiting on the Grand Marshal's next order.

“Maris, perhaps you can help them find out what they’re missing. I know how ingenious you can be. A different set of eyes might go a long way.”

The servant of the Confederation inclined her head amicably at the compliment and her smile grew. She noticed that Domen was not pleased with the order and Maris couldn't understand why. Her head slowly tilted to the left as she regarded the woman with a new set of parameters. It was an old law, as old as civilization itself, and stated that "every action has an equal and opposite reaction." While that was generally considered to hold valid in the realm of classical physics, it applied just as easily to sentients. The grand marshal had asked for independent verification of the crime scene and Domen had reacted with distain. A weighted graph of probabilities and spawned from the analysis. Thousands of possibilities expanded from the nodes and the most likely held value for deceit. Domen was hiding something.

But that was hardly a reason for Maris to be any less than polite to the officer. She smiled courteously and gave a small thank you as Domen escorted her from the room, through the facility and to an awaiting groundcar that took them to the Baobab Archives. The scale of the building was immense. It towered over them as they exited the groundcar and approached, passing a pair of gawking tourists, craning their necks to gaze up. Maris gave them about as much consideration as she did the size of the Baobab Archives. It was an impressive feat of architectural splendor, of that there was no doubt, and perhaps on another day she would have commented on it. But that day was not today.

They passed through a paired set of doors and on the other side Maris noted a distinct change in the atmosphere. It was cool, the air was dry, and the lighting dim as to protect the treasures stored within. Further cells contained within the sprawling and multi-layered archive would hold even more precious materials under more stringent hermetic environments. The droid paused briefly before the Dha Werda Verda and turned an evaluative eye upon the Mandalorian epic. It was but one of the riches held within the Baobab vaults. Even if Maris had wished to take an extended viewing of the archives today, she could not do as such with Domen.

Eventually the stacks of books melted away to be replaced with data centers sealed off in cold rooms. The lights were brighter within, harsh and clinical, and the constant drone of air conditioners stirred the air and drowned all other sound. Neat racks of servers stretched towards the horizon of the white room. Domen marched them down aisles of identical racks until they came to a cordoned off area. Maris was giving the area a cursory once over when Domen spoke up.

"There you have it, ma'am. The best our forensic team is on this case. I really hope you can see something they can't."

The edge to her words was thick enough to measure and the tightness to her smile was barely more than a thin line. The weighted graph that had been kept alive in memory was revaluated and what Maris had first identified as deceit was recognized now as pride. Domen saw Confederate intervention as salt in the wound of the theft, and Marin's insistence that an outsider be given access to their crime scene to scrutinize their work and find errors in their process was insulting.

"Officer Domen, a word, please. I do not doubt the competence of your forensic teams. That is not why Grand Marshal Marin asked for my review. Aroo's cooperation and participation in this investigation is both appreciated and crucial. However, time is of the essence and what your forensic specialists would undoubtedly discover in due course, a new perspective may discover sooner." Maris said with an endearing smile. This didn't have to be difficult for either of them and would be only if Domen made it so. "Thank you, Officer Domen. I will find you if there is anything else that I require."

With that, Maris crossed the holographic boundary and crouched to begin her inspection. The first thing that drew her mechanical eye was the piece of hardware wired into the server faceplate. It was high end merchandise and expensive, which was advantageous for them. Maris turned the device over and scanned for a serial to run against the manufacturer. If Maris was lucky they may get a name from the transaction. The grand marshal would have been pleased for a name. While the internal search was executing, Maris unplugged the device from the servers, turned it over, and powered it up.

((Is there anything that Maris recognizes as important at first glance of the crime scene? What does the serial search yield? What happens when the device is powered up and what will Maris find within?))

One interesting thing about the crime scene is that it seems to have been carried out by a professional. Though they were rushed to complete the job, whoever hooked the device up to the server did it well.

The serial search does not yield much; the device seems to have been purchased on Coruscant, from an electronics outlet, but it has been modified heavily, likely by the same professional slicer, to do the job.

When the device is activated, it begins to carry out its programmed tasks again, accessing the servers and beginning to slice into them, hundreds of characters scrolling across its small screen. It seems to have been carrying access codes, and after fiddling with it, Maris learns that they had been using the large servers there on Manda to increase their clearance and hack into the Confederate databases.

They were only able to recover fragments of information, but what they had was enough: snippets of important details about thousands of Confederate officers, including herself and Avery.