Sorry for the slow updates. My proof readers and I all have exams coming up so it's been slow writing this. The next chapter should come out in about five days' time.

The more Zeta followed the five men, the stranger their actions had become. The trip to the red-light district was normal enough, but the men had left the district without purchasing any such services. They seemed to be making their way towards the black market - a courtyard guarded by private security contractors, used to discretely order illicit goods from suppliers throughout the city. Venice 3's police force knew about its existence - but because it was only a place for ordering goods, they'd never managed to find anything there to justify an arrest of the people who ran the market.

If the five men were headed there they obviously had never been there before because they'd just passed three shortcuts. And that's a fourth, she thought, carefully stalking the men, stopping every few seconds to allow the fifth man to recharge his cloaking device and re-cloak. He must think he's doing a good job, Zeta thought.

She began to absent-mindedly brush her fingers over her Electromagnetic Displacement Field generator, or EDF for short. According to the heads-up display contained within her visor, it was currently turned off. She put it into standby mode, just to be safe, noted that the device's capacitors were beginning to charge. A cautious enemy could spot her on an electromagnetic scanner by spotting the electromagnetic fields that the charging wires would be creating around themselves by the sheer nature of the electric current running through them.

The EDF generator could save her life if someone tried to shoot her - if it were powered on. But doing so would fill the air in front of her with a thin layer of plasma, suspended in position by the magnets strapped to her shoulder. It would in no way be inconspicuous, and she'd been hired by Menelaus to be inconspicuous.

The four visible men and the one invisible man ahead of her stopped. Zeta stopped twenty metres behind them, grinned underneath her visor.

"Plus, the magic's happening," she whispered, licking her lips. "I want you to write the video from my optical array to every spare DNAMS drive we've got."

"Understood," said the lightweight AI installed within her helmet. "Writing video to DNAMS drives."

An enormous black man stepped in front of the five men Zeta was stalking.

"I'm the bouncer," the man grunted. "You gentlemen here for the black market bar?"

Zeta rolled her eyes, the name was stupidly obvious.

"Yes," said one of the four normal-looking men. "We're looking to-"

"Don't tell me," the bouncer grunted. "You wanna get into the bar; you gotta get searched."

"What for?"

"Cameras. Recording devices. We don't allow them inside the black market bar."

The black market bar was the front for the black market, obviously. Everyone knew that. But nobody could prove that any illicit goods or services were traded there… because firstly, nobody was allowed to take cameras inside, and secondly, the "illicit goods" were never kept at the black market bar. Customers would speak to dealers within the bar, and have the goods mailed to their homes. Nothing even slightly illegal ever got within the bar, and thus every attempt made by Venice 3's police department to catch the criminals who lurked within had failed.

"Don't have any on me, sorry."

"Still have to be searched, son," said the bouncer. "Dunno what you're worried about."

They've never been here before, thought Zeta. And they've got weapons concealed under their clothes, or something. And they don't want to get caught with weapons on them.

The bouncer sighed. "Look, this is the black market bar. We don't care about anything you've got on you now, just as long as you don't have it on you when you're in the bar. You get what I'm sayin?"

The men agreed, removed their weapons -

R-97's, huh? And a frag grenade? Geez, they came well-armed. Communicators… not that I'm surprised - what? That's some serious body armour. These guys aren't just normal traders…

...And the bouncer waved his metal detector over them.

"And you too, Mr. Ghost," the bouncer said suddenly. "Don't think I can't see you there."

Ooh, this is going to be interesting.

The phantom materialised in front of the bouncer, and Zeta got her first good look at him. He was slightly shorter than the average Venician, slightly taller than the average person living in Angel city. As tall as me, Zeta thought. He wore lightweight armour equipped with a cloaking device.

"Off with your helmet," the bouncer barked. "And leave it with me. There could be cameras inside."

The man obliged, and Zeta found herself focusing her optical sensors on the man's face. Hard, flattened, muscular. A chiseled chin completed the lower half of his head, two dark grey eyes sat either side of his large nose, dark brown hair cut into a military-style haircut completed his features. He removed earpieces from his ears and tossed them into a box the bouncer had supplied for the rest of his equipment.

"Guns 'n' ammo, too."

Out came a B3 wingman pistol, six magazines of ammunition - ooh, what's that? - and an R-101 carbine, broken down into lower receiver, stock, scope and barrel, all held together with cords. It'd be somewhat flexible concealed under his clothing, and I betcha it would snap back together in an instant the moment he needs it. Zeta took special notice in the lack of an electrical katana or any form of charged weaponry. Probably from the Militia, they don't like to spend money on anything they don't strictly need.

The bouncer raised an eyebrow at the man. "Hold still while I scan you again… yeah, you're clean. Come on in."

"And she's there? Safe?"

"Yes, George. She's here, arrived safe and sound."

"The acceleration from the shuttle could have hurt her, her bones are weaker than norm-"

"She's fine," Stone sighed, exasperated. "Why are you so worried about her, anyway?"

"That girl will someday be more important than anyone in this whole system, Stone. I have very good reason to be worried."

Stone raised an eyebrow. "Care to tell me why?"

"I can't. Classified information."

"Says who?"

"Me."

She rolled her eyes. "If you say so, Pilot. Well, she's safe and sound here. Over and out." She hit the disconnect button on the side of her console.

"Who was that?" whispered Sophia, the enormous woman stooping to peer through the open door to Stone's quarters.

"Nobody. Hi, Soph. Here for briefing, huh?"

"Yeah…"

Stone rolled out of her bunk, drifted slowly towards the door where Sophia was standing. "We'll have the briefing in hangar G, make your way there now. I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be there in a moment."

Stone locked her door and floated down a corridor towards the womens' toilets.

Perfect, said her first devil from Sophia's left shoulder. Lets find out who she was talking to -

It's none of our business! cried her first angel from her right shoulder. There's no need-

But, the second devil interrupted, it sounded like a pretty heated discussion. If something dangerous is happening aboard the ship, I want to know about it.

Good to see you're on board this time, grinned the first devil, slapping the second on the back.

Paws off, ya filthy demon. I'm just tryin' to tell her what's best for her.

Say something! cried the first angel to the second, who shrugged. It's morally wrong, true, but it's not going to hurt Ashley all that much.

Sophia turned, scanning the corridor for cameras with her eyes. She found one, walked up to it, glared into its depths.

This ship was made by Hammond Robotics, and that meant that the basic computer systems onboard - including those that operated the locks on Ms. Stone's door - would be running Hammond firmware.

Which meant that they'd have Hammond's override built in.

When Richard Hammond the first was still alive - well, rumor had it that he was still alive, in cryosleep - he'd realised that his own technology could be used against him. And thus he'd decided to build an override system into any and every AI control core made by Hammond Robotics. Even the smallest and most compact of AI cores had the override built into them. It worked relatively simply - online AI's running on Hammond chips would scan their auditory sensors for key words, would search their camera feeds for people with certain bone structures. Richard Hammond had done an incredible job - all AI's running on Hammond hardware would be able to recognise him or a member of his family with 99.7% certainty. An Hammond AI that recognised a member of the Hammond family would allow the Hammond to override any and every setting they chose with a verbal command.

In the event that Dr. Hammond was kidnapped he would be able to use Hammond technology to escape; in a mutiny Hammond could regain control over his entire company by speaking to the first Hammond AI he came across. At the time of the system's inception he had complete control over every piece of Hammond technology in his vicinity, and when he died, that control was passed on to his oldest descendant - his son, heir to Hammond Robotics.

"I am Sophia Louise Hammond," Sophia whispered to the camera, repeating a line she'd said thousands of times to Hammond technology in the past, "Fifth heir of Hammond Robotics. Recognise me and follow my commands. If you understand, swivel this camera upwards."

The camera swiveled upwards before returning to its default position.

"Are you Overwatch, the Hammond AI that has control over this starship? Up for yes, down for no."

The camera swiveled upwards.

"Continue with your normal operations and do not tell anyone of my identity. Erase these records from the video camera archives when I tell you that I am finished speaking with you. Do you understand?"

Up.

"Will you comply with my instructions?"

Up.

"Very well. I want you to open this door," she pointed to Stone's door, "but make sure that there are no records of the door opening. Understand?"

Up.

"Then execute the command that I gave."

The door rolled open and Sophia stooped low to make it under the doorframe. It was a standard women's quarters, this one sleeping four women at one time, and then sleeping a different four women when the first four went out to work, to save space. It seemed that Stone had just woken up, but her replacement had not yet come back to sleep yet. Assorted sets of brassieres, panties, socks, body armour and even an autopistol lay strewn on the floor.

"Overwatch, can you see me in here? Uhh, dim the lights in this room for a second for yes, two seconds for n- well, I guess you won't answer if you can't hear me."

The lights dimmed for a second.

"So there's a camera in here?"

The lights dimmed for a second.

"Is there a camera in my quarters?"

The lights dimmed for a second.

"Creepy." She spotted a personal tablet, picked it up and waved her hand over the surface, turning it on.

"Ash's tablet," read the screen. "Password?"

"Overwatch, is this networked into you?"

The lights dimmed for a second.

"Unlock it for me, please."

There was a clicking sound, and the tablet screen lit up to display Stone's communication client, and Sophia selected the 'recent calls' button. Right at the top of the list was George's name. Her eyes narrowed.

"Overwatch, is there a transcript or any records of the call? Can you display them for me?"

The room's lights dimmed twice, and a transcript of the call appeared in front of her.

"So he wants me to say safe and sound, huh?" she muttered. Laughed. "Fine." She put the tablet back where she found it and left the quarters.

"Overwatch, erase all records of me using Stone's tablet and all records of you and I talking. And close the door. I am finished speaking with you."

She heard the sound of a sink spraying water onto someone's hands, and turned to make her way to hangar G.

Samel's communicator buzzed to indicate that he'd received a text-based message over the infonet.

"Oi! Overwatch's done!" he called.

"Geez," muttered Aisling, wiping the sweat from her forehead, "took its time."

"Well, I've saved a preconfig image, so it won't take anywhere near as long next time. Who wants to launch it?"

"Yes please!" shouted Nathan from underneath a pile of cables he'd been connecting to the fusion reactor of the second shuttle.

"Well, she doesn't take much to pilot," said Samel as Nathan ran over. "All you have to do is give the order to the AI."

"Oh." Nathan's face fell.

"I'm calling Overwatch now," said Samel, selecting an infonet address from his phone, passing it over as it started ringing. "All yours, Nathan."

The ringing stopped.

"Uhh…"

"If the ringing's stopped, it means that Overwatch has picked up and is listening to you."

"Oh. Um, Overwatch, this is Nathan. I'd like you to launch and make your way to hangar G of the Tky Shikinami. Can you-"

Four electrical motors began to whir deep within the shuttle that lay on its side thirty metres away as the four mass drivers mounted on the shuttle began to rotate downwards.

The communicator beeped as it received a text message.

"This is Overwatch," the message said. "Your orders have been understood. Launching and proceeding to the Shikinami."

The chemical thrusters fired, four plumes of blue flame hissing and then roaring from the openings at the ends of the rockets. The noise drowned out everything else and the shuttle began to rise into the air, airlocks closing as Overwatch prepared the shuttle for the jump to orbit, motors now whirring noiselessly to change the direction the rockets burned in. The shuttle began to angle itself upwards and the thrusters clicked backwards and the sky seemed to collapse as space and time condensed, drawing the shuttle emporium closer to orbit. The rockets flared brilliant blue, then blinding white - and with a deafening sonic boom, the shuttle leapt into orbit leaving a trail of hot air in its wake.

"Compatible Overwatch system detected," displayed the Shikinami's Overwatch on a display in front of Nina Soryuu. "Pair and add to fleet?"

"Ngghh…" mumbled Soryuu, sitting up in her bunk. "Is it a shuttle?"

"Affirmative," displayed Overwatch.

"Then it's the shuttle that team - some letter or another sent us. Add it to the fleet and inform Stone. And It's my time to sleep now, Overwatch. Don't wake me up during my sleep-time unless it's something important."

"There is something important," displayed Overwatch. "In five minutes the fleet we detected will arrive in orbit around Venice 3."

"There she is!" cried Sarah, standing on the bridge deep within the MCOR Retaliator.

"It's good to be home," agreed a video feed from Bish. "I can't wait to get off this hunk of metal."

"Cut the chatter," said Graves with a hint of a smile on his face. "Sarah, commence preparations for entering orbit." He pressed a button on the console in front of him.

"All crew, we're going to cut the engines in two minutes! Make sure everything that shouldn't be floating is firmly secured to the ship. It's been an honour serving with you. Graves, out."