The airlock hisses open onto the same cramped, flickering command center Zoey tracked from the transport. Amber console glow washes over scavenged panels, dead cables, and a slumped figure in scorched Imperial armor.
The watcher is the Inquisitor. He looks wrecked, one gauntlet braced on the chair arm, head bowed as if the room itself has finally beaten him.
Zoey Terraj
So the amber state was a buffer, not a warning. He was hiding from something bigger.
Mara edges in beside Zoey, data-pad clutched tight. On its display, the tracked encryption key is mirrored by the station's own routing table, a master tag for Dock Nine cargo lanes and illegal transit permissions.
Kaelen
You think that pad is the prize. It is the map. It is why everyone keeps finding you.
Kaelen
Amber means hidden. Red means the net sees the shuttle. I bought minutes, not safety.
A diagnostic strip on the wall flips from amber to a harsh blinking warning, then steadies again. The station is barely holding the lie together.
Mara
Then tell us why your trap is on my pad.
“"What... Are you trying to help us? Why? Dude, I'm about to shoot you on principle." Zoey tells the inquisitor, annoyed. This makes no sense.”
SUCCESS (Superb Willpower, rolled -1)
Zoey Terraj
What are you trying to help us with, exactly? Because I am very close to shooting you on principle.
The Inquisitor lifts his head a fraction. The red diagnostic strip crawls across the wall behind him, turning the room's shadows sharp and hostile.
Kaelen
Because I am not the one tripping your response net. I am the man trying to keep it from finding Dock Nine before you do.
Kaelen
That routing key in Mara's hand is a leash. Every cargo lane it opens also tells the net where to look next. It was built to drag smugglers, couriers, and anyone foolish enough to carry it.
Mara tightens her grip on the pad, anger and relief crossing her face at once. The Inquisitor's scorched gauntlet shifts against the chair arm, like holding himself together costs him more than blood.
Kaelen
I set the amber buffer to blind the station long enough to warn you. If red settles in, the net starts calling in ships.
He looks from Zoey to the data-pad, then back up, exhausted and bluntly honest. The question hanging in the air is not whether he is guilty, but whether he can still help stop what he helped build.
“Is the inquisitor telling the truth?”
YES (Even, rolled 30)
Zoey Terraj
His vitals are spiking, but the readings on the console match his story. He is not lying.
Kaelen
I spent years hunting ghosts in these sectors, Zoey. I know the net's signature better than my own name, and it is currently locking onto the signal your pad is broadcasting.
Kaelen
If you want to survive, you need to stop treating me like a target and start treating me like a navigator. I can mask the key, but I need you to bypass the station's primary relay.
“"Treating YOU like a target? You work for the Empire! You were targeting US!" Zoey says with disbelief. "Why don't we destroy the stupid pad and be done with it?"”
SUCCESS (Superb Willpower, rolled +0)
Zoey Terraj
Treating you like a target? You work for the Empire. You were targeting us. Why not destroy the pad and be done with it?
The Inquisitor flinches, then looks past Zoey to the console as if the answer is written there in bruised light. The amber wall strip keeps pulsing. Somewhere deeper in the station, the hatch alarm chirps on a thin, irritated loop.
Kaelen
Because the pad is bait, and bait can be stripped clean if you know the net's shape. Destroy it, and you lose the only map out of their trap.
Kaelen
I was not hunting you here. I was trying to bury the station's beaconing before it called in the response net. The signal was already live.
He taps the shifting navigation grid, and the display blooms into layered route traces, ownership marks, and one ugly red handoff line tied to Dock Nine. The second watcher signal flickers once in the corner of the screen.
Kaelen
If you want the truth, Zoey, I can name the relay that tripped it. But I need the pad intact long enough to mask the key.
“"We destroy the only way... What are you talking about? Are you saying that this pad creates software tracking codes or something?" Zoey asks.”
SUCCESS (Great Reasoning, rolled +0)
Zoey Terraj
We destroy the only way? What are you talking about, are you saying this pad generates the tracking codes?
The Inquisitor goes still, then gives a short, ragged nod toward the layered route traces. The red handoff line throbs between his fingers and the station's sickly light. He looks less like a hunter now and more like a man trying to keep a system from eating him alive.
Kaelen
Not generates, masks, reroutes, and certifies them. The key does not just open Dock Nine, it tells the dock who is allowed to exist in the grid.
Kaelen
That is why the response net woke up when your pad touched the chain. Someone upstream wanted every illicit route tagged, every ship counted, every witness boxed in.
He swallows and taps the red handoff line, then points to a tiny fault bloom where the trace branches into the second watcher signal. The console answers with a low flicker, like it recognizes the blame.
Kaelen
If you want the name, Zoey, it is in that relay path. Help me strip the masking layer, and I will show you exactly who tripped the net.
“"Whelp, first thing is first though... To treat an infection, you need to sterilize it at the source..." Zoey slices the datapad, looking for the viruses within to purge them.”
SUCCESS (Great Hacking, rolled +2)
Zoey slices into the datapad’s overlay with a few tight motions, and the layered route traces flare into raw code.
Zoey Terraj
To sterilize it, I cut it at the source.
Her deck catches the hidden virus lattice, peels it apart, and burns the masking routines clean. The amber diagnostics on the console stutter, then settle into a simpler, uglier pattern.
The red handoff line collapses into a single origin point, and the second watcher signal blooms beside it like a fingerprint left in wet dust.
Kaelen
There. That relay spine, that is the handoff. The tagger is not Dock Nine, it is the industrial relay above the freight spine.
He leans in hard, one hand braced on the console, the other shaking over the recovered trace. The maintenance hatch alarm keeps chirping, impatient and thin.
Kaelen
You have the source now. If you want the name behind it, you need to follow that line before the station wipes it.
“"One sec, I'm going to turn off that alarm again..." Zoey hacks into the alarm to shut it up.”
SUCCESS (Great Hacking, rolled -1)
Zoey Terraj
One sec, I’m going to turn off that alarm again...
Zoey’s deck slips into the station spine, and the chirping cuts off mid-note. The command center falls into a sudden, brittle hush.
The console’s warning band stays lit, but the irritating alarm line goes dead, leaving only the grid’s low electrical hum and the second watcher mark on the display.
Kaelen
Good. Now listen. That signal is not my net, it is the relay spine’s handoff node. Someone is using it to tag the route itself.
He drags a shaking finger across the cleaned trace, then taps the origin above the freight spine, his face drawn tight with fear and recognition.
Kaelen
If you want the one behind it, you move before the station scrubs the trail.
The display holds on the relay origin, steady and exposed, while the second watcher signal flickers beside it like a live pointer.
Quest Complete
Find who tripped the response net
Attribute Upgrade: Reasoning Great→Superb