The interrogation room aboard Station Halberd was cold and sterile, its walls lined with dampeners to block any chance of using their cybernetics. Leonidas stood behind the one-way glass, arms folded, watching as the station's security chief and Davonport liaison questioned the captured crew.
For Leonidas it was like being back in uniform again. He wondered how many times he must have gone through the routine. Intimidate the suspect, offer him a way out, and like catching a fish reel them in with a deal. If that doesn't work, there was always violence. Torture. It loosened some lips but most often you do not find the answers you seek.
The types of people he had dealt with. Raiders, slavers, rapists. The worst of us. The quiet ones were the most difficult to deal with. Not knowing what they are thinking, what are their needs and wants. How to reel them in. Those days were behind him now, he had forsaken one uniform for another. He was a Merc now, he had accomplished his task.
'This is not your mystery to solve. Walk away, Leonidas.' He told himself.
The prisoners - five of them - sat motionless, eyes vacant, expressions slack. They answered no questions. They showed no emotion. And then, one by one, they began to seize.
"Medical team!" The chief shouted.
Too late. Each of them collapsed, blood vessels rupturing in their brains. No poison. Just sudden, catastrophic neural failure.
Leonidas turned to the Davenport liaison whom had arrived with reinforcements. A sharp-eyed women named Kaelin. "That is not natural."
She nodded grimly. "No, it is not."
He was not walking away. How could he, when every instinct he has gnaws at the back of his mind. There were questions to be asked, and answers to be found. He and his crew were involved now, he could not wash his hands of whatever mystery was brewing here. His mind raced. Already at work of what could be behind the ill-timed demise of the crew.
In the war room, Kaelin reviewed the autopsy reports.
"No trace of toxins," she said. "The dampeners made sure there was no cybernetic triggers. But their neural pathways were...compromised. It is as if someone built a kill switch into their minds."
Leonidas frowned. "Corporates espionage?"
This was the most obvious answer. The corporations are known to skirt imperial laws to get what they want. Sabotage of a competitor was not out of the question.
Kaelin did not answer immediately. "Possibly. The company has enemies. Too many to count. But this level of precision?"
Leonidas leaned on the console. "So we have no answers."
"For now," Kealin said. "But you held the line. You protected our assets, the company will not forget."
The next day, the crew of the Lion's Gaze received a formal commendation from Davonport Industries. A sleek courier drones delivered the message:
To Captain Leonidas & Crew:
For exceptional service under fire and the preservation of Davonport property and personnel, your crew is herby granted Priority Contractor Status. You would be considered for future high-tier assignments. Additionally, you are entitled to a permanent forty percent discount on ship repairs at any Davenport Garage across the Empire. -
Davonport Command.
Ezran whistled. "The fruit of our labor gentleman."
Leonidas read the message, then looked at the stars. There was one place he could travel to, in search of answers. Zuria.