Chapter 112: Spelunking - Interlude

  Don Bensen wondered why his retirement was filled with so much excitement.

  He remembered joining forces with Serval years ago, even while in active service. Yes, it was disingenuous, dishonest, whatever people called it. But technically, it was not treason. Felina, Serval’s mother, once lived next door when times were good. He witnessed that saga unfold and kept tabs even as it became difficult. He knew what was what.

  He felt bad for her and Serval. But he couldn’t have enacted real change, nor would he have tried. He was pragmatic. Their system wasn’t perfect, but it worked for the majority of the population. It worked quite well, in fact. Sure, egotistic nobles caused problems, but that was life. Society was stable, and with this level of stability, thinking it could be changed from within was naive.

  Before Serval entered his life again, he had gone about his duty because there was nothing else to do. Life had gone on.

  Then, one day, Serval had found him. The little mama’s boy that Don had seen all those years ago was nowhere to be found. Instead, he was a man of conviction, with plans and tremendous motivation. It was par for the course. The son of a tiger was a tiger too, after all.

  And now here he was flying into a restricted area at Serval’s behest. Honestly, he had done pretty outrageous stuff on Serval’s behest. This didn’t even rank among the top three. But as always, Serval’s star was climbing. And it seemed prudent to attach himself to it.

  The team that he was currently traveling with was the best one he could gather for infiltration. He just prayed that the entry passes worked or else they’d be fucked before they could even begin.

  “Boss, we have an incoming transmission,” the driver said.

  Don pressed his signature ring to the dashboard, and he could immediately hear the transmission through the discs behind his ear.

  “AX2154, be advised. You are entering a restricted area. Your tag has passed the primary check, initiating secondary security check. Provide your landing code ASAP. I repeat, you are entering a restricted area. Provide your landing code ASAP or face severe consequences.”

  “Ocelot Green Plasma One Two Nine Six,” Don replied, preparing to engage the shields just in case. This was the first test. They’d know if the mission went pear-shaped right now.

  A second later, the voice responded, “Code confirmed. Proceed to the highlighted landing bay.”

  He let out a breath of relief, knowing that the first part was taken care of. Now they only had to survive a thousand more security checks. Dear lord, why did he even accept this mission? It was not the difficulty per se. What spooked him was the reliance on Intel. Intel, which he didn’t have on hand. Everything hinged on technology.

  Alas, it was a critical mission, so he had to do his part. Couldn’t afford to let someone else take charge and then eventually replace him.

  As advised by the air traffic controller. Their dashboard had a small hologram pointing towards the landing bay that they were supposed to disembark on.

  “All five of you listen very well. You already know this, but this is a very high-stakes mission. We can’t afford to get caught. Even if we do, stick to the story. Or you know, make sure that they won’t ever find anything out from your corpses. Whatever the case, we aren’t supposed to give anything away.”

  “Way to motivate us all, boss,” the driver said as he banked in the air, coming to a hover over the landing platform. It was already crawling with D’Raac soldiers, covered head to toe in black uniforms. The golden eye embroidered in their uniforms was a clear indicator of who this battalion belonged to. The black full-face helmet also spoke for itself pretty much.

  And that confirmed the difficulty level of this mission. This place was governed by the Faceless Stewards. God damn black ops wierdos. Those guys had no chill. They were hell-bent on following Emperor Byrone’s orders. Especially after the past debacles where reigning kings tried to interfere with the edicts. Those disasters just solidified their purpose in their minds. These guys were exclusively puppets of prophecies.

  “Just thought you should know the stakes. Look at those guys’ uniforms, specifically, look at the insignia. These are all soldiers of the Faceless Stewards. If at all you’re getting caught, make sure that you don’t make it to the actual stewards themselves.”

  “Peachy. Morbid as fuck, but I mean, is this really any different from the other kind of shit that we do? These guys are hardcore, sure, but the end result is still the same. I always wanted to take a crack at these guys, though. So consider this a dream fulfilled,” the youngster replied.

  The moment their air car landed, the surrounding soldiers all pointed their weapons at the doors. Pretty aggressive, but standard for these guys. Everyone inside lowered their windows first, raised their hands, and then opened the doors.

  “Step out and form a line. Supervisor first, then the rest. Then proceed to the tertiary check,” a soldier ordered, pointing towards a kiosk to the side.

  Wordlessly, Don and his team followed the orders. The path to the kiosk was lined with glowing tiles, which were an obvious indicator of deep scans. Don and his team didn’t have to worry about that because they didn’t carry any weapons. They were explicitly told not to.

  They were supposed to be posing as a maintenance crew after all. All of them were here with fake IDs. Even Don, despite his records already being present inside the Tavan military, was not exactly here as himself. If one knew where to look, there were interesting things for sale that would fool the deep scans. Fighting magic with magic.

  His disguise was subtle, nothing too overbearing. Just small highlights here and there, small shadows here and there, to make his face look radically different. The cream itself was very subtle, and it worked. Well, the quality of the magical crystals crushed into the cream mattered a lot. Calling it a cream was simplifying it. It was a potion. But Don didn’t like the talk of magic. Magitech was fine. It was technology, something he could understand. Magic on its own, Don didn’t really like. That was why his combat style was completely physical. Even the weapons he used, despite being magitech weapons, were simplistic in their functionality.

  By now, he was gaining a bit of confidence in this shindig. Because this whole operation seemed meticulously planned, despite how bare-bones the information he received was. The access codes have worked so far. And god knows how Serval got his hands on them. Sure, he had briefly mentioned a hacker who worked for him, but this kind of work was pretty hard in today’s technology. It was extremely hard to crack these days. So, it was a miracle how these codes were working. Don had never seen anything like it before. Even Serval wasn’t capable of providing such obfuscation before.

  “I can see here in my visor that all of you are first-time visitors. So please follow my instructions carefully. Place your signet rings on the kiosk one by one.”

  Don did as he was told. He placed it, waited for a second before a light turned green. He was then asked to step aside.

  When the next one placed his ring on the kiosk, though, something different happened. A panel opened to the side, and Don’s heart fell. He feared that something had gone wrong.

  “Please deposit your rings inside the kiosk. Only those who have the clearance can take their rings inside. You’ll be collecting it when you leave,” the soldier said, seeing the questioning look on the driver’s face.

  So they were indeed in the clear. It had worked. But Don was still very confused. How had it worked? Fake signet rings were a thing in the criminal circles, yes. But none of them were that good. It was next to impossible to fake the IDs associated with the rings. So, infiltrators usually brute-forced the system. Not to mention how his fake ring was supposed to have some clearance that his squad didn’t.

  Just with this, he could say that something had changed with Serval’s modus operandi. Because these kinds of authentications weren’t easily forged. When he had asked about clearance during the mission brief, Serval had said that he had a throwaway access code in hand, which was further spoofed several times by his hacker contact. He wasn’t sure he really believed that. There must be something else going on. But it was not his place to ask, OPSEC and all that jazz.

  Meanwhile, one by one, his entire team had deposited their fake signet rings into the kiosk.

  “Please wait a couple of minutes. Your point of contact is on his way. He’ll guide you to the workstations. You can then proceed with the maintenance activity.”

  It was a pretty good cover as well. Because technically, these guys could actually do the job that they were pretending to do. They were damn good at it. But at the same time, they were also here to snoop. Once again, he didn’t understand how Serval got such a cover story working.

  Usually, maintenance contracts for such black ops sites were handled in-house or only given to vetted companies. They were all clad in the uniform of one such company. Their gear, their vehicle, everything was designed to give off that feeling.

  Moreover, these companies were responsible for their employees keeping their mouths shut. So he wondered how this would turn out when the company later found out that they had carried out a maintenance activity when they actually hadn’t. Well, it would depend on how exactly this shindig was organized. He was not privy to it.

  For this not blow up into something ugly later, the only viable option he could see was coercion. It was highly possible that Serval and his hacker friend got into the company’s hierarchy and either bribed or threatened someone high up in the chain. Nothing else explained how they were getting this far without triggering something.

  What Don didn’t understand was his role in this thing. He was supposed to supervise them, yes. But now, with the surprise that he could keep his ring, it opened up other options for him.

  A few minutes later, another soldier walked into the landing bay and gestured at Don and the group to follow.

  Soon they made their way into a tunnel which had a magnetic rail. Following the soldier, they stepped onto the platform. Their boots magnetically locked onto the platform as it zoomed forward. Don tightly clutched the railing with two of his right arms, not trusting the boot lock. Especially with the speed they were going at. It might have taken maybe three minutes before it stopped.

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  “Please follow me. You can only enter the area that you have access to. So please do not stray. This area is under constant surveillance. Keep that in mind.”

  Don and his team murmured assurances as they continued following the soldier. This entire place was a mixture of technology and nature. There were futuristic doors attached to cave walls. Either the doors were placed there, or chambers had been drilled into the cave with these doors in place. Whatever the case. The place looked a bit odd. It didn’t follow the usual Tavan aesthetic.

  Sure, it was built inside the mountains. But the Tavan government tended to go overboard and maintain a certain aesthetic regardless, for their official sites.

  As they turned a corner, another person walked towards them. But this person was dressed a little bit differently. His attire covered him head to toe as well, but it was not entirely black. There were golden accents running all throughout. And on the center of his full-face helmet, a golden eye was engraved. This was not just some random soldier. This was a Faceless Steward.

  The soldier guiding them abruptly stopped and snapped into a formal salute. Don and his team didn’t. They were not supposed to be members of the military. Moreover, they were a new team of maintenance personnel. So they had to act the part. A new team out of the blue would be suspicious in itself. But technology was a double-edged sword. It was so hard to bypass that these people thought that if it worked, then they were supposed to be here. That was the beauty of it.

  The Faceless Steward kept walking towards them, and he stopped in front of the group. He didn’t salute the soldier in return; he just waved at him to bring down his hand.

  “Maintenance team for dock seventy, sir,” The soldier said unbidden.

  The faceless twat nodded and continued looking at the team. Due to the headgear in place, it was impossible to say what exactly he was looking at. And his body language also didn’t give anything away. He was as still as a statue.

  “You can take the crew to work. I’d like to speak to their supervisor for a bit,” he said. The first thing Don noted was the traditional voice distortion in effect. It was so that the Faceless Stewards’ identity was fully obscured.

  These buggers all belong to the same clan, but nobody knew what the name of the clan was. Or essentially, who they were, what they did. It was all very hush-hush. Not even all the royalty were privy to their actions. Only the King knew.

  Don had a truly hard time controlling his expression at that. There was nothing else he could do but comply. So he just nodded and waved his team forward. He stood and watched as his squad followed the soldier and disappeared from view after taking a turn.

  “Come on, let’s go to our area. Don’t want the rabble listening in on us, of course,” The voice was still distorted, but it lost the cold edge that it had when he had spoken to the soldier. In fact, it seemed cordial.

  Don was very confused, but his training picked up the slack. He didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he smiled and nodded, “Lead the way, please.”

  So either something really freaky was going on, and he had succeeded in his mission way past the parameters, or he was about to get tortured and killed in the next few minutes.

  Soon they reached a grand door which had the golden eye painted on it. The steward placed his ring on the pad next to the door. The pad glowed golden, and the door opened. He then stepped through and waited at the doorway for Don.

  Don was about to follow. But he noticed the way the Steward was standing. Not being able to see the face was a massive disadvantage. It was nothing overt, but there was something he could work with. Don could read body language. The Steward’s body was angled towards the pad. Most likely, waiting for Don to place his signet ring on the pad as well.

  It was a risky situation, but Don was confident in his training. And the soldier at the gate had said that Don had a higher clearance level. Why else would he be allowed to keep his ring? This either worked or it didn’t. But he had to make a choice. Because if he didn’t make a move at all, he was gone. So heart hammering in his chest, he stepped up to the pad and placed his ring.

  It glowed golden once again, instead of the green he’d seen at the landing bay. And the steward subtly shifted his body, which told Don enough. He was indeed waiting for Don to swipe in, to say. And now that it was done, his body was angled facing inwards, waiting for Don to follow him.

  Don was baffled. Faceless Stewards were supposed to be black ops guys. They were supposed to be highly trained. So, how was this guy this open with his body language? Sure, it was very subtle. Only a trained eye could catch it. But the fact that a trained eye could catch it itself was a problem for the supposed elite.

  And this was a complete contrast to the journey to the door. All that while the faceless Steward didn’t give anything away. But now his body language was open, relaxed. So this meant that he either let his guard down inside this new area, or that this was some elaborate trap. There was nothing in between.

  There was only one path forward, so they started walking.

  “Now that we are out of sight of the non-believers and common trash, let’s talk. You know it has been a long time since I met someone who has been on infiltration duty,” the man said, almost giving Don a heart attack. “I surely wouldn’t have recognized you if it weren’t for your ring getting flagged at the landing bay. Heck, I wouldn’t recognize you anyway because, of course, this is not your real appearance. Such a stellar job.”

  Resigned to his fate, Don didn’t say anything. He just hummed and nodded his head.

  “I’m sure you can’t tell me exactly what your mission is, but I guess the maintenance company is not up to code, or they’re doing something shady. I hope they’re doing something shady. It’s been quite a while since a sting operation like that took place. I’d love to take part in something like that.”

  What? Just what was he saying? Did this man think that Don was a part of the Faceless Stewards? That would be absurd. There was no chance that he’d think that.

  “I can’t share that information,” Don said. He didn’t know what else to do. He was in a very precarious situation.

  “Ah, of course, of course. Operational security. That’s fine. I mean, you know how it is. In terms of information warfare, we are never on the back foot. Emperor Byrone’sedicts and our clearance level always keep us ahead of the curve. We don’t really need to do physical infiltration anymore. But, in the rare cases that we do, then I know something serious is going on. Anyway, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

  There were so many questions that Don wanted to ask this guy. And he would if they wouldn’t blow apart his cover. What else was he supposed to do? This guy was just spilling the beans without even prompting. It was a classic us vs them mentality. The moment he was in a perceived safe space with a member of his cult, his lips just let loose, finding ways to pat himself on his back and badmouth the so-called opposition.

  He imagined how much information he could get with the right questions. But there was one question that came to his mind, given what this guy had said. It was not even just a matter of secrets. It was a valid opening. Therefore, Don would want to exploit that.

  “Since you mentioned my ring getting flagged, does that mean you are keyed in on why I am here? Are we going to be collaborating?”

  “Of course not. I’m just the welcoming committee. Your access ID was flagged, and the only note attached to it in the system was your destination. Nothing more, nothing else. Unless you plan on dropping some of that tea, huh? Given that you’re heading into that chamber, it must have something to do with the heathens,” he said.

  Don was flabbergasted. The few instances that he had interacted with the Faceless Stewards before were nothing like this. They were hard-asses. Tough nuts to crack. Emotionless machines in their duties, and fervent zealots who didn’t let the fanaticism show too much outwardly. The way this guy was talking, it made him seem almost normal. In their words and deeds, these bastards were not normal, though.

  “Sorry to disappoint you then.”

  “I get it, I get it. No more prying.”

  As they walked, the smooth walls of the corridor were replaced by long stretches of glass. Don didn’t look around like a tourist. He instead took nonchalant glances to see what was on the other side without betraying any emotion.

  On one side, a massive assembly line was creating combat and sentry golems. Part by part, the golems were being put together, painted in the livery of the Faceless Stewarts. On the other side, weapons were being put together. Weapons that seemed more advanced than what he was used to. And that was a major problem. He was used to fighting with cutting-edge weapons that were available. These ones, they weren’t even available for the military. So, who were they making this for?

  Don was certain about one thing. These bastards were preparing for war. Against whom or when he didn’t know, but they were preparing. And that scared him. Not the prospect of combat. But the just the sheer implications of it. Tava was pretty much completely under the control of the D’Raacs. So, who were they going to fight against? The isolated islands in the distance didn’t matter anymore. They were brought to heal long ago. Not like they had anything much anyway. Just splintered groups of D’Raacs that didn’t want to conform. The public didn’t know it, of course. They thought that there was nothing behind this massive supercontinent.

  So, who were they going to fight? What conflict was this war machine gearing up for?

  Alas, it seemed like he wouldn’t get his answers from the loose-lipped escort of his. That in itself was a wild sentence, a Faceless Steward being loose-lipped. These guys completely believed in their security systems. Either that, or they believed that the prophecies would keep them safe. But if their security was weak, then everyone would have known by now.

  No. The security was known to be almost impenetrable. So, the only explanation was that his access code managed to slip past all that. Serval and his contacts were playing in the big leagues. Sure, it was nothing new for Serval. He was always involved with the movers and shakers, but this was even a step above his usual activities.

  A couple of minutes later, and a few automatic doors and turns down the line, they came to a stop.

  “I’ll leave you to it then. Please feel free to join your squad whenever you’re done.” The tour guide said. Because that’s what he felt like, a tour guide. Rather than a scary assassin, spy, black ops, agent, whatever. If only he knew the truth about Don’s mission, then Don would have seen a totally different face of that guy.

  The Faceless Steward carried on down the corridor, and Don turned towards the door that he had stopped in front of.

  Apparently, whatever got flagged in the system said that he had to come here. No point dallying, then. He walked up to the pad, pressed his ring on it, and it opened up immediately.

  He didn’t know what he was expecting inside, but he totally didn’t expect whatever he was seeing right now.

  The mission that he was given was to extract information about the green-skinned people. He thought that he would be trawling through databases, archives, and ancient books, even. But he didn’t expect to find himself inside a literal cave that had nothing but murals painted on its walls.

  However, he had succeeded. Because the murals depicted green-skinned people.

  He looked around discreetly, as if observing the murals. He didn’t find any obvious recording devices in the cave. The cavern was completely untouched, except for the door. And it was massive. It was more of a circular chamber. So he started with his left, at what seemed like the first image of the mural. He discreetly turned his palm in such a way that his ring was pointing towards the drawings.

  Generally, signet rings did not have the memory capabilities for prolonged recording. That’s why the voyagers needed separate devices to record their expeditions. But his fake ring was modded, and he didn’t need to record all that much. The internal storage that it possessed would be enough. So he slowly began walking as his ring started recording.

  Recoding in the sense that it didn’t take photographs. The mana crystal that powered and performed most of the operations of signet rings was geared towards very specific purposes. The main one was the holographic projection. So the recording was also done through projection. It projected invisible waves that hit the target and returned to the ring. Using that feedback, the ring rendered a recording.

  He never understood how that encompassed color as well. On the other hand, it was magitech, not just normal technology, so he’d never pretend to truly understand how the devices worked. They performed way more than anyone would expect of such small devices.

  As he recorded the murals, he observed them as well. And his mind was blown. If what these things were depicting were indeed true, then the royals were worse than he thought. Emperor Byrone must be rolling in his grave. To be honest, he was surprised, but he was not that surprised. He knew the level of depravity these people could sink to. What were a few more crimes in comparison? It was day-to-day life for the literal rulers of the planet.

  Soon, he had the data that he came here for. But he couldn’t declare his mission a success just yet. He couldn’t send the data from here, after all. It was too risky and could be intercepted. That would blow his cover apart.

  Therefore, Don walked out of the chamber once he was done and retraced his steps back to his squad.

  It was ironic that he got more work done than the team he put together for this mission. They did perform admirably as props, selling his cover. The fact that alarms weren’t blaring now meant that they were performing their ‘maintenance’ duties well and hadn’t blown their own covers. So without them, it still wouldn’t have been possible. Or maybe it would have. He’d never know until Serval came clean about what exactly he had done with these fake access codes. And Don knew that he’d never ask that. No point jeopardizing OPSEC. The more people that knew a secret, the less a secret it was.

  In hindsight, this did break into the top five craziest missions he’d undertaken for Serval. However, it was still a far cry from number one. Hopefully, his future missions would stay out of the top hits. But he didn’t count on it. With the way things were going, something else was going to top this one for sure.