Showing posts with label undercover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label undercover. Show all posts

Saturday, January 10, 2026

Castlebourne Capital Community: Council Criminal Conspiracy (Part II)

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
If this wasn’t the most difficult game in 2.5Dome, Dreychan absolutely did not want to see whatever was. What Lubiti and Maaseiah didn’t—couldn’t—understand was that this wasn’t anywhere near the first game he had ever played. His homeworld of Ex-777 didn’t have work. People played around all day. It was basically Castlebourne, but without the domes. They were lazy and hedonistic, and while he preferred a more quiet life, it wasn’t like he spent every waking moment curled up with a book. He had never played a game quite like this, but he did have some experience. Even his muscle memory had some idea what to do, because virtual reality was ubiquitous on 777. So he survived. He ran through the level, avoiding every obstacle, jumping over every gap. It wasn’t easy, and he was exhausted throughout the whole thing, but he did make it. And once he finished that first level, he went on to the next. And the next, and the next. He kept trying to escape, either by taking small moments to try to repair his emergency bracelet, or by just looking for a weak point in the walls. He also screamed for help, but no one responded.
He never found respite, except for a few minutes between the levels. If he managed to get significantly ahead of the moving wall, it wouldn’t have to catch up to him. A new wall would simply slide in place, and start coming for him instead. Sometimes, he had to figure out how to open a door, but it was never too complex, and he was a pretty smart guy. They had underestimated him, and that was their first mistake. He was at the final level now, and about to finish the whole thing. The one thing left to do was to defeat the final boss. How hard could it be?
Oh my God, so hard. It was this giant sort of skeleton creature that could spin its whole torso around on an axis, which it used to try to slap Dreychan away. There had been a sword in the eighth level, which he failed to retrieve. He knew that would come back to bite him in the ass, but there was no fixing it. A normal player could have let themselves die to try again, but he didn’t have that luxury. Any death would mean the true death, so he kept having to cut his losses, and press forward. That one mistake could not be what ended him here. He could do this. He had no choice. It wasn’t only because he obviously wanted to live in general, but seeing the looks of horror on Lubiti and Maaseiah’s faces when he confronted them—he couldn’t lose that opportunity.
He was on the ground, though, on his back. The skeleton creature towered over him. It usually moved fast and violently, but it was slow now, confident that it had Dreychan beat. It didn’t have that much in the way of a recognizable face, but it might have even looked like it was smiling? It reached back with its giant lanky arm, and prepared to smash Dreychan into the floor when something stopped him. It was the hammer from level seven. Dreychan had noticed it on the wall, but it had been receded into a pit, and looked more like decoration. After he spotted the sword, he figured that the hammer was just a distraction. Maybe not, though. Dreychan looked up to see Teemo wielding it. Teemo?
Teemo screamed through gritted teeth as he reangled his weapon so he could press against the bottom of the handle, and push the skeleton’s fist back. The skeleton was confused, and surprised at finally encountering an enemy who might actually defeat him. Teemo made one more push to knock the skeleton off balance for a second, which was enough for him to regrip the hammer, and smash the skeleton’s toes. The skeleton began to hop on one foot as it massaged its metatarsals and phalanges. Teemo didn’t stop there. He hopped over to the other foot, and swung to the side to smash into its ankle. That was enough to tip the monster over to his back. Teemo took a breath, and looked over at Dreychan, who was only now getting back up to his feet. Teemo expertly threw the hammer upwards, letting it slide between his fingers and thumb, catching it once his hand had reached the metal. He pointed the bottom of the handle towards Dreychan. “Care to do the honors?”
Dreychan stepped forward. “How are you here? Why?”
“Do you want to ask questions, or do ya maybe wanna kill the monster first?”
Good point. Dreychan accepted the weapon, found his own grip on it, and smashed the giant skull into a dozen pieces. After all this time, the doors finally opened.

A few days later, Dreychan was all rested up, and ready for the next Council meeting. According to Teemo, the plot to have Dreychan killed wasn’t limited to Lubiti and Maaseiah. More people were involved, but unfortunately, he didn’t know who, or how many. The only reason Teemo knew about it was because Maaseiah underestimated him too. Teemo didn’t explain why he helped Dreychan, but that obviously wasn’t the concern right now. They needed to identify the other conspirators. They had one chance to curate that list, or maybe not even that. If Dreychan had actually died in the game as he was supposed to, they probably would have heard about it, so their surprise might have faded by now. Or, they deliberately shielded themselves from the potential of hearing such news in order to extend their plausible deniability for as long as possible. He was about to find out. Teemo was already in there, recording the Council in secret. Dreychan was waiting in the ancillary hallway so no one would spot him.
They had been waiting for one straggler, but she was here now. Dreychan took a deep breath, walked back over to the main hallway, and stepped into the Council chambers. A hush fell over the room, which was weird, but he just kept walking, not looking. Teemo was recording, he had to trust that. He really wanted to see how Lubiti and Maaseiah were reacting, but he would be able to watch the footage later. Teemo would run it through a special program that was specifically designed to detect surprise, even if someone was trying to hide it. Dreychan casually strode over to his seat, and sat down as he always did. He looked up at Council Chair Rezurah because she was about to call them to order.
“Uh, uh...um.” She was so flustered. Why was she flustered? Was she looking at him? Holy crap, she was looking at him. She was part of this too? She shook her head quickly, trying to loosen up and get back on track. “Thank you all for coming. Um, I—I was able meet—to meet with Mr. Hrockas, I mean Stewart—Steward! Mr. Hrockas Steward. Hrockas. And we came up with the specifics of a plan. We’re gonna move our star 83 light years away, a little bit closer to Earth. We will end up 83 light years from Earth. Now, I know that might be confusing for some, but you have to remember that space is three-dimensional—”
“Sometimes it’s two-point-five!” Teemo interrupted. He stood up, and started walking towards the dais, holding his tablet down by his hip.
“Mister Teemo, you will wait your turn!” Rezurah demanded.
“I’m afraid I don’t have to wait for shit!” Teemo fired back. “You are all under arrest!” He looked over at Dreychan. “Except you, Drey.”
“But all of them?” Dreychan questioned. “Every single one of them?”
“Every goddamn one,” Teemo confirmed as he looked back up at Rezurah.
“You do not have the authority to arrest anyone, and you don’t have any proof whatsoever,” Rezurah argued. “You’re just a scribe.” She looked down at Maaseiah. “I thought you said he was one of us.”
“He was,” Maaseiah replied before standing up himself, and looking Teemo in the eye. “You helped us scrub the security footage.”
“No, I didn’t,” Teemo explained. “Because I am not Teemo.” He lifted his tablet, and started tapping on it. His face began to flicker before disappearing entirely, revealing his true face underneath. “My name is Dominus Azad Petit of the Castlebourne Charter Contingency. Teemo has already been placed in holding, you will all be joining him shortly.” Azad made another tap on his device. A bunch of masked soldiers suddenly appeared. They began to secure the perimeter, and place cuffs on people. “No, not him,” Azad ordered the one who cuffs Dreychan. “He’s not guilty.”
“We’re not either!” Rezurah shouted. “We had an obligation to protect our people, and the planet! We did it for you!”
Castlebourne Owner, Hrockas Steward appeared next to Azad. The man escorting Rezurah met him halfway in the middle of the floor. “I brought you here. I gave you a home when you had none. You didn’t even know what a home was. I gave you everything you needed to live happily and safely.”
“And we’re grateful for that,” Rezurah insisted. “Nothing has to change.” She scowled at Dreychan. “Except him. He’s a danger to us all. You have this whole thing backwards.”
Hrockas shook his head. “My team investigated Mr. Glarieda for months, and found no evidence of him leaking information. You, on the other hand; we have evidence of your crimes.” He jerked his head at her escort, who began to shuffle her away.
“You impersonated a Council leader, and infiltrated our private meetings! You have no right to do this! The people will rise up! There are more of us than you!” She trailed off as she was being pulled out of the room. The rest of the detainees were taken out behind her.
“Sir,” Azad began, “why didn’t you just teleport them all into holding?”
“I want people to see,” Hrockas answered coldly as he watched the last of them go. “I want them to see what happened here today.” He spun around. “Mr. Glarieda, on behalf of Castlebourne, and its executive leadership, I would like to extend my deepest apologies to what you have endured. Your experience has illuminated a number of security flaws in our system, particularly in 2.5Dome. You never should have been able to step through that first door with a broken emergency beacon. I want to assure you that the entire dome has been shut down, and will not be reopening until we have secured a more robust set of guardrails. Furthermore, I have called in a third party to audit our system overall to identify any flaws or room for improvement. As everything on this planet is free, I can offer you no compensation for your suffering, but...” He looked around at the now empty chambers. “The Council is yours for now. I try to stay out of politics. I only stepped in because it was a conspiracy to commit murder. That’s rare these days, and I cannot allow a permanent death to overshadow what we’re trying to build here. Not to sound callous.”
“I understand,” Dreychan responded sincerely. “I’m grateful for the assist. Particularly to you, Dominus Petit.”
“It’s my job,” Azad said. “You almost had that skeleton. I would have been there sooner, though, but we could not get the emergency exits open. I know that sounds bad, but it’s what we’re gonna use to nail these guys. They hacked our system, which means they left a trail for us to follow.”
“Yeah,” Dreychan agreed with the silver lining.
“Well, we’ll leave you to it,” Hrockas said. “I have to get back to work.”
“Wait,” Dreychan said before they could disappear on him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. You can’t have a council with one person. We need to fix this, and I’m not qualified to do that alone. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I will need to maintain a line of communication with my...murder conspirators. They may have tried to kill me, but I recognize that they were doing it to protect Ex-Exins. They will help me.”
Hrockas nodded. “Azad can make arrangements for visitation. They will be monitored, however, so the expectation of privacy that this council enjoyed before has been undone. You’ll get it back once you backfill the positions, and I’m satisfied that there will be no repeat of this incident.”
“I appreciate that, sir,” Dreychan said.
Hrockas disappeared.
“What the hell just happened?” Dreychan asked rhetorically. This was crazy. He couldn’t run the Council, even to find all of its replacements. Even with help, he was not the man for the job. He didn’t even ask to be on it in the first place. He simply didn’t have any choice. When they first arrived, and started establishing their rules, Hrockas insisted that every old world had representation. It made sense at the time, and Dreychan agreed because the Council was so big, he could disappear into it. Now it all fell on him, and he wasn’t prepared for it. Goddammit, why wasn’t there just one other person who didn’t try to kill him the other day?
Azad started to breathe deliberately. “Just breathe, Drey. Like this. In. Out. Slowly. You can do this. You’re not alone, even if it might feel like that. You can reach out to the Expatriate Protection Bureau. As far as we know, they weren’t involved in this. The EPB was the internal police force that the former refugees created. It too was separate from Hrockas and the other planetary executives, but also operated independently of the Council. They were there to check and balance each other. Yeah, they could help. Perhaps they would be able to simply take over.
Dreychan breathed. “Thanks. I’ll be okay. Things are getting easier. The Vellani Ambassador returns every day with fewer and fewer refugees. There are fewer decisions to make than ever.”
“That’s a very positive way to look at things,” Azad said. “He tapped on his tablet a few times, and then tapped the corner of it against Dreychan’s watch. Contact me whenever you need. A Dominus commands hundreds of thousands of troops, but we are presently technically in peacetime, since the Exin Empire threat is only that; a threat. And it will be my job to lead them, not train them now. So I have a lot of time on my hands.”
Dreychan glanced at his watch to make sure his contact card came through. “This has your quantum signature. You planning on leaving this region of space?”
Azad smiled. “Light lag is still a problem even if you’re not light years away. I’m helping develop a new adventure that’s not actually under one of the domes. It’s on the edge of the solar system.”
“Oh, interesting. Well, I’ll let you get to it. I appreciate your support.”
“Any time. It was nice meeting you.” Azad disappeared.
Dreychan was all alone, in the literal sense anyway. He was in charge here now...of the chairs, and the tables. They better get in line, or suffer the consequences. That was his first order of business. He walked around the tables, and straightened the chairs out so they would look nice. Some of them had been knocked over in the kerfuffle. As trivial as it was, it made him feel a tiny bit useful. It was unreasonable to begin any real work today. The only item on the agenda was to approve the plan for the stellar engine, and there was no longer anyone here with the right to make that call. There was certainly no need for a vote. Once people were found to backfill all of these many positions, at least the room would be clean and tidy. Hell, the other original council members might even ultimately be totally acquitted, and return. He didn’t know. So to prevent any kind of future conflict, he just took the day off, and went back home. He would come to regret it.

Friday, September 15, 2023

Microstory 1975: Team Head

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image AI software
Investigator Blass: Sir, do you have a minute?
Myka: Sure. Agent Blass, right? What can I do for you?
Blass: Investigator, but just call me Blass. I have some sensitive information, and I’m not sure who I should share it with. I’m hopeful that you’re that person, but...
Myka: You need me to prove myself, which you never expected to ask of a superior.
Blass: Sir.
Myka: I’m not your superior, Agent. I’m just in charge of the building until Agent Parsons returns from assignment. Unfortunately, we have some bad timing, so I’ve had to cover, but I’m mostly only qualified to make sure there’s enough soap in the bathrooms, and pickles in the fridge.
Blass: I don’t like pickles sir, and we can’t wait for Subdirector Parsons.
Myka: Subdirector? Is that his new title?
Blass: He leads the subdepartment of a major government department, so yes.
Myka: I see. Go ahead and tell me what you need to get off your chest. If it turns out you can’t trust me, you probably wouldn’t have had much luck finding someone better. I’m not at the top, but I’m also an outsider, which means I don’t have any interest or experience in internal organizational politics.
Blass: That’s some interesting logic there. *hesitates still* We’ve been training for months. As soon as that first alien showed up in our world, the government started preparing for the second one, and a possible oncoming invasion. We were pulled from all relevant walks of life. We’ve got people with military backgrounds, law enforcement; we even have our own former parole officer, if you can believe it. She’s anxious to meet Supervisory Agent Miazga. As far as I know, I was the only one relocated from the ICC.
Myka: I’m afraid I’ve never heard of that one.
Blass: Internal Compliance Commission.
Myka: Oh.
Blass: While the others were training to fight, I was there to spy on them.
Myka: Did you find something?
Blass: I found someone. Only one, I believe, but it’s a big deal. He has ties to Russia, North Korea...and Mississippi.
Myka: *shaking her head* Don’t say what I think you’re gonna say.
Blass: I didn’t realize before, because we’ve been arriving at these headquarters in waves, but now that everyone else is accounted for, I was able to jump to two possible conclusions. Either the mole was caught by someone else, and extracted, or... 
Myka: Or he was already here. And now he’s out there.
Blass: Yes, there were rumors that someone was put on assignment early.
Myka: Thank you, Blass. I need to make a call. *dials on the computer*
Blass: Sir. *leaves*
Reese: *on the video screen* I can’t talk right now, Mykey. We’re operational. *into the radio* Shoot only on my command!
Myka: Don’t let him shoot anyone, Reese! He’s dirty!
Sachs: *fires rifle*

Tuesday, May 16, 2023

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: March 13, 2399

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software
Leona was still hesitant to let Heath go undercover in the Church of Daltomism alone, but he’s finally doing it today. Daltomists meet every day of the week, but Fridays are the biggest. At first, he thought that that would be the best day to go, but if he’s trying to establish himself in the community, Saturday may be the better choice. He may be able to stand out more here, which is what he really needs. Of course, this is such a large congregation that a smaller service is still pretty big, but he has other ways of getting noticed. They practiced strategies yesterday.
He’s not going to start right away. He has to get his bearings first, and find out who here has the power to help him infiltrate. In Daltomism, just because someone is up on stage, it doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone in the audience who is more important than them. He’s looking for someone who all of the other congregants are avoiding, but not like they smell, because they respect and fear them. They’re more than likely too high ranked to be worshiping here as a normal person, and are here to make sure that this particular location is following the teachings of Dalton, and not straying from The Word. This person won’t know that Dalton is alive, but they may know someone who knows someone, who knows someone, ad infinitum.
There. That’s her. She’s holding herself with a strong sense of entitlement and superiority. She’s disgusted by the size of this place. In other faiths, the larger group of followers you have in one place, the more clout you have amongst the other chapters. Daltomism is different. The smaller the meeting house, the more elite you are, which is why this place is so gargantuan. It’s a starter house, and doesn’t require an invitation. He doesn’t really have time to prove himself, though. He has to move up the ranks fast...or else. That’s why he needs to get in the good graces of whoever this woman is, because she’s his ticket into something greater.
He won’t approach her right away. In fact, he’ll probably never try to speak with her at all. He’ll have to find some way to get himself noticed. He doesn’t want her to know that he’s targeting her, after all. God, he sounds like such a creep. This is important, though. Knowing that Dalton is just a man with access to special powers makes him seem a lot less mystical. Heath was never a huge believer, especially since he was taught to believe that he would never amount to much, but the truth has pushed him over the edge. He doesn’t feel bad about doing this, and doesn’t consider these his people anymore. Let’s see, he needs to get himself on stage. He doesn’t have to be the center of attention, but they sometimes bring people up to sing. They usually pick from the front, and he didn’t get here early enough for a good seat, but maybe he can swing it.
While he’s thinking about that, the woman he was eying suddenly approaches. “I know who you are,” she says to him, almost accusatorily.
“You do?” he questions. He’s not famous, in any circles. She shouldn’t recognize him in the least, especially not since they’re a thousand miles from Kansas City.
“I saw you on the news. You weren’t featured, but you were there, being led into that woman’s crime hole.”
“Oh. It’s not a crime hole. She’s trying to change all that.”
“Yeah, I don’t need to hear the pitch. I just need you to get me in the building.”
“That I can do,” he says with a smile. “Hi, I’m Heath Walton.”