The arm jerk returns, hard and unnatural, the same kind of stutter the drone beam had shown outside. 2-6 steps into the inner room, and his cybernetic forearm snaps up like it is answering a silent call.
Above him, hidden lenses blink awake. The room lights flicker in a tight rhythm with his fingers, as if the whole place is taking a pulse from his hand.
The Courier
No. That is not a fault.
The courier goes pale and freezes mid-breath. On the far wall, a dead terminal wakes with a whisper of smoke, then a thin status line crawls across it, searching, receiving.
The truth lands clean and ugly. It is not 2-6 losing control, it is the nano-bots taking control, reaching outward through the room's hidden hardware to broadcast his position into the logistics network.
The Courier
They are talking to it. Through him.
✓ Quest Accepted
Sever the nano-bot link
✓ Quest Accepted
Get out of the hideout
“Fuck fuck fuck! 2-6 desperately trying to hack his internal systems back”
SUCCESS (Great Hacking, rolled -2)
2-6
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He shoves back into his own systems and fights for the hand to answer him.
His forearm locks, then releases. The room lights stop strobing on his twitch and settle into a flat, hostile glow.
Inside the mesh of his implant, the broadcast thread snaps. The hidden lenses lose their rhythm and go blind one by one.
The Courier
You did it... right?
2-6 gets the answer in a brutal price, a hot surge that burns through the forearm and spits smoke from the terminal.
Jax
Signal is dropping. Somebody just cut the leash.
The smoke-thin screen blanks, then fills with a red trace log pointing at the room, still searching for the source that just vanished.
Quest Complete
Sever the nano-bot link
“"Bro you led us to a fucking trap! They are gonna re acquire me!"”
SUCCESS (Poor Persuasion, rolled +0)
2-6
Bro, you led us to a trap. They are going to reacquire me.
The words land hard in the room, and the red trace log answers by pulsing once, as if it hears him.
The Courier
No. I brought you here because this was supposed to be dead. I did not know the room could phone home.
He takes a step back from 2-6, then stops, staring at the smoking terminal like it has betrayed him personally.
Jax
It already has a lock on his signal. That burn cut the broadcast, but the network still has his shape.
The Stranger pulls one glowing sensor lens down into the light and shows a scrolling acquisition tag under the trace.
The Courier
What does that mean for him, right now?
Jax
It means the hunters know the room, the clinic records, and probably the route that brought us here.
The terminal spits a thin ribbon of smoke, and the hideout stays brutally quiet around them.
“Take a pull of my vape and try and reload my gun. "Means we gotta go then right?"”
SUCCESS (Superb Agility, rolled +0)
2-6
Means we gotta go then, right?
2-6 draws the vape to his mouth, takes a hard pull, and the lit edge glows once in the dim room. His good hand slots a fresh magazine into the gun with a clean metallic click.
The burn on his forearm tightens under the skin, but the weapon settles ready in his grip. Smoke from the terminal curls between them, thin and bitter.
The Courier
If the hunters can still see this room, staying is suicide.
Jax
Not yet. The trace is still live, and someone on the outside is watching the tag move.
The red acquisition log pulses again on the dead screen, faint but stubborn, like a heartbeat refusing to quit.
No one moves for the door. The silence in the hideout presses in, waiting for 2-6 to choose a route.
“Are there other exits?”
YES, BUT (Likely, rolled 53)
2-6 scans the perimeter of the room, but the heavy blast doors are the only way in or out. The ventilation shafts are far too narrow for a human to squeeze through, and the walls are reinforced concrete.
“"Then we go and deal with it" 2-6 heads out the door.”
SUCCESS (Superb Agility, rolled +1)