Post-Conquest: Insurgence (SW and ST crossover)

[Rukatin]

I can easily see how a training exercise can turn into something real like this. Even if it would be overkill to have two teams on something as "simple" as a serial killer, its 'good training' to see how they handle this.

 

[AspblastUSA]

Not to mention that it's a very fortuitous, face saving event for the Japanese government, if they've really been having so much trouble tracking down this serial killer. Having to request the Imperial government involves the ISB is tantamount to admitting they're incapable of catching this criminal, which is a blow to their credibility. If the ISB should just so happen to stumble into the case and take over because they are already there? Well, letting that happen doesn't say anything about the Japanese government at all aside from that they're loyal Imperial subjects.

Also, time for wild mass guessing! I have two guesses right for whodunnit:

1. A former idol, killing these girls either out of resentment or because she's snapped and wants to "preserve their dream" or something like that.
2. Wildly unlikely dark horse prediction: this murder wasn't the serial killer, but a corrupt/desperate/evil member of the Japanese government committing a copycat crime where they knew the ISB would turn up shortly thereafter; for the reasons outlined above

 

[Bassoe]

Good story.So,we have SW,ST and Ghost in the schell covered,but where are Assasins? and on which side?
Templars,their enemies,looked like creators of Utopia,so it made them Empire allies.

Well, it certainly wouldn't be the first time they allied with conquerors and enlightened despots. Napoleon Bonaparte, for one, and before him, Houses Medici and Sforza. They also allied with Ferdinand and Isabella of Aragon and Castille, respectively. Ironically, the founder of Communism, Karl Marx, was an Assassin ally, as were the founders of the Soviet Union, Lenin and Trotsky.

So, yes, the Assassins might certainly be allied with the Empire, or at least some of its leaders and operatives. If nothing else, the Empire of the Dragon's brand of New Order ideology is more in line with the Assassins' worldview than it is with the Templars'.

Ubisoft is French, and you know. France, revolution, communism and all that stuff.
It doesn't make sense, but it does.

Assassins and Templars are mirror images of each other. Thing is, Assassins aren't against utopia, the difference is that they're only supposed to enable and protect it. Humanity must be free to build utopia on their own, and if they stumble and fall along the way, that's just the way of things. It's how they learn. It's even in the Creed, nothing is true, everything is permitted. Society, civilization, morality, ethics, religion, etc...they aren't absolute, anything can happen, and the Assassins embrace that truth.

In contrast, Templars think Humans can't be trusted to do anything on their own. As such, an enlightened elite must firmly take Humanity in hand to build and rule over utopia.

The Precursors even point this out. Minerva cursed both the Assassins and the Templars for not being able to see past their ideological lines - ironic, as Arno, Elise, and their fathers - to realize they had all the pieces to surpass the Precursors between their orders, and instead fought each other for millennia, setting back Humanity each and every time. Juno similarly used this as her reasoning that Humans, no matter what ideological stripe, was fit only to be slaves, her slaves to be specific...

...which, ironically, enough was finally what got the Templars and Assassins to start working together.

Side effect of trying to tie all human history together into a coherent conspiracy. Not saying that power-hungry conspirators don't exist, but they're not on the same side and frequently, the greatest ambition of revolutionaries is to be the oppressive tyrants themselves rather than to free people from oppressive tyrants altogether*.

This whole situation was an outside-context problem for the Templars/Section 31/Majestic 12/whatever they're calling themselves. A civilization secretly under their control being invaded and violently conquered by one which had never heard of them, much less been secretly infiltrated. If Empress Targaryen had any sense, she'll have gone full bloody purge on everyone above captaincy in rank in starfleet before they can worm their way into the empire. Look for ex-starfleet officers bribing imperial bureaucrats with stashes of loot they hid during their time in power, to try and get a foot in the door.

The Assassins on the other hand, probably just shrugged, switched from scheming the murders of starfleet admiralty to the murders of imperial moffs and continued with their lives.

On an unrelated note, what's going on with the Isu? Had the federation technologically surpassed them, or did their empire extend beyond earth? Are they the ancestors/creators of all the humanoid species everywhere? Given that a multi-planet civilization could've survived Toba, what killed them? Did it have anything to do with a catastrophic failure in their experimentation with encoding minds and mutating victims into monstrosities turning into a civilization-destroying aggressive homogenizing swarm? Are augments literally just lazurogenic clones?

* We really need an AC game set in the Russian Civil War. Overthrow the Tsars, who as a European royal family are probably Templar-affiliated, only to lose the resulting power struggle, ending in the player character getting purged by Stalin. Also Rasputin using some regeneratory Isu gizmo to heal Alexei and make himself damn near unkillable, with the intention of getting an indebted puppet onto the throne.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

This whole situation was an outside-context problem for the Templars/Section 31/Majestic 12/whatever they're calling themselves. A civilization secretly under their control being invaded and violently conquered by one which had never heard of them, much less been secretly infiltrated. If Empress Targaryen had any sense, she'll have gone full bloody purge on everyone above captaincy in rank in starfleet before they can worm their way into the empire. Look for ex-starfleet officers bribing imperial bureaucrats with stashes of loot they hid during their time in power, to try and get a foot in the door.

Who says there wasn't a purge? It's been thirty years, after all, since the Fall of the Federation. Plenty of time to hunt down and kill Templar initiates and neophytes, to say nothing of knights, masters, and so on and so forth. In fact, the ISB were already sifting through Starfleet's ranks for Templars/Majestic 12/Section 31 operatives during the Imperial Conquest. They'd have no reason to stop.

The Assassins on the other hand, probably just shrugged, switched from scheming the murders of starfleet admiralty to the murders of imperial moffs and continued with their lives.

This is true. Besides, depending on why said moff deserved to be assassinated, the viceroy - the SI isn't Empress (yet) - would probably just hush up the Assassins' involvement, and pin the blame on someone else.

On an unrelated note, what's going on with the Isu? Had the federation technologically surpassed them, or did their empire extend beyond earth? Are they the ancestors/creators of all the humanoid species everywhere? Given that a multi-planet civilization could've survived Toba, what killed them? Did it have anything to do with a catastrophic failure in their experimentation with encoding minds and mutating victims into monstrosities turning into a civilization-destroying aggressive homogenizing swarm? Are augments literally just lazurogenic clones?

Now that would be spoiling

 

[Bassoe]

My unsubstantiated theory's that it all has to do with the events immediately prior to WW3 that the Templars was so concerned with keeping secret.

Khan Noonien Singh was supposedly born in the seventies, while we don't have the tech to make him now. What we do have, and had just twenty years past the appropriate timeframe, is the technological capacity to grow clones if we already had a source of DNA. Isu are genetically close enough to humans to interbreed, presumably an Isu embryo could be brought to term in a human womb.

Cue the "Augments". Not genetically enhanced, Isu clones. The Templars made them so they could use Animus to squeeze them for the genetically remembered technological secrets of their genetic forebears.

Didn't go so well. The Augments were fine with the plans to resurrect lost Isu technology and rule the world, they just thought it should've had them in charge. The Templars barely won the resulting war and were terrified enough to outlaw all the relevant biotech technologies to prevent the recreation of their foes. Until now. After the conquest of the federation, the surviving Templars were without their power base, hunted by the new great power and desperate. Potentially desperate enough to break their own rules if it promised an opportunity to acquire gamechanging Isu wunderwaffe.

Which brings us to the current ISB murder investigation. The victims were Assassinated, not because of anything they'd done, but because of what they had the potential to remember. At best. At worst, Animus would let their genetic progenitors outright hijack their bodies and return to life.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Star Trek, Ghost in the Shell, Assassin's Creed, and any other franchise referenced in this purely fan-made and not-for-profit work.

Post-Conquest: Insurgence

Chapter 5​

Mars, Tharsis Metropolitan Area, Central City, Hyperion Corporate Center

"I see." Aimi said to Makoto over virtual communications as she walked back to her desk with a mug of coffee. All around her Thornton Insurers Ltd.'s accounting department busied themselves with the numbers of their clients from all over the galaxy, men and women alike tapping away on terminals or filling out papers and other materials. Droids hummed as they went to and fro, along with other men and women going about on their business. "Mako-chan, you've finally managed to get a breakthrough on your current case, then?"

"Not quite, but yeah, we've made progress." Makoto replied in kind. "The ISB managed to find over six hundred leads in just three days, and after another day, cross-referencing with police records and such plus our own initial investigations, we managed to drop those to just about ninety-two leads, or so."

Aimi chuckled even as she paged through a set of papers on her desk, similarly cross-referencing them with her terminal, about various insurance plans filed by Grersh Interstellar Shipping for their ten newest interstellar long-distance freighters. "Well, like you said, it's progress." She said. "So, what now?"

"Now, I've got eyes on a suspect." Makoto replied. "I won't drop any names, but this guy's been the subject of various complaints over the past couple of years. Stalking mostly, with a touch of petty theft and one attempted break-in. Not of the victim's home, apparently, but their workplace."

"And their stuff too, apparently." Aimi said, filling-in the blanks.

"Yup." Makoto agreed. "That said, I doubt this guy's who we're looking for. I mean, sure, we have cause to look deeper, but no matter how I look at him, both now and from what his records tell us, he's not the type to kill."

"Comes with the job, I guess." Aimi pointed out. "Looking into suspects and then clearing them of suspicion, that is. That's also justice, after all."

Makoto sighed. "Pretty much." She admitted. "Regardless, here's to hoping we catch this guy soon."

Aimi smiled. "Not happy going back to Earth?" she asked.

"Not as such…" Makoto delicately replied. "…more that I've gotten used to life on Mars, among other things."

"I see." Aimi hummed.

"I miss you." Makoto said.

"Mako-chan, it's only been a week." Aimi said, pouting as Makoto laughed.

"I know, I know, but still." Makoto continued. "Anyway…Tokyo's pretty much the same as I remember it. I'll be sure to drop by Akihabara before heading back to Mars, I'm sure I can find you a souvenir you'll be sure to like."

"Please and thank you." Aimi said with a smile. "Anyway, I've got to get back to it, and I'm sure you do too. So…take care, Mako-chan, and good luck with your investigation. I hope to see you soon."

"Yeah, me too. Love you."

"Love you too."
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Earth, Empire of Japan, New Tokyo Metropolitan Area

"Anything…?" Makoto asked as she returned to where Marjatta was sitting outside a coffee shop, the Finn wearing a VR visor over her eyes.

"Aside from a trio of teenagers playing hooky and swapping pornography between them while walking down the street, no." Marjatta replied. "And yes, I've sent a tip to the nearest police outpost. Kids these days."

Makoto chuckled while sitting down. "I think you mean kids haven't changed at all." She said. "The boys back then from when I was in school weren't that different, if at all. Unless…they were different where you were?"

"…probably." Marjatta admitted after a moment, while also taking a sip of her coffee. "I grew up in a small town in the country. It was a tight-knit community, so everyone knew each other, and, well, there wasn't much chance for tomfoolery. Well, aside from hot-blooded young men and women finding time alone in secluded corners and spaces, of course."

"Hmm…speaking from personal experience?"

"No comment, major."

Makoto chuckled again, before also taking a sip of her coffee. Virtually, she could see their quarry through spy programs uploaded into a nearby building's internal network. The man's day job was fairly mundane, working as a menial at a storage depot, loading goods in and out all day long. Unsurprisingly, the man had turned to escapism in response to such a dreary day-to-day existence, but that wasn't a crime, even if it had served as a motivation for them in the past.

"The man has…surprisingly compartmentalized, his life and fantasies." Makoto observed, watching as the man returned to the employees' locker room for a break, and opened his locker to get something. "That locker is perfectly ordinary, just clothes and shoes and other such things. Threadbare, even, considering it doesn't seem to have any…personal, touches to it, if you get what I mean."

"Meanwhile," Marjatta disdainfully said. "In his home he has a…shrine, of various idols, some of whom he's twice the age of, featuring pictures, toys, and various other paraphernalia. This man needs help."

"Maybe," Makoto replied. "But you can't force him to get it."

"…maybe we should?" Marjatta asked. "Then again, that's what the Feddies would have done."

"Even without the Feddies' bad example," Makoto pointed out. "It toes a very fine line, which leads to questions about how far the government, society, and others should pry into people's private affairs. You could even say the cure might be worse than the disease."

"True enough." Marjatta said, sitting back and continuing to watch while lifting her coffee mug to her lips. "Here's to everyone else having a better time of it than we are."

"I'm sure they are." Makoto said.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Still suspicious of this guy?" Crash asked.

"Speaking as a former cop, yeah, I am." Max replied.

The two men were sitting in the back of a nondescript white van, painted with 'Asahi Laundry Services' along its sides, and parked in a dark alley not far from where their assigned suspect was. Glowing screens displayed feeds from spy programs uploaded into the building's internal network, while they had an open line with an employee-turned-informant working inside. As for their suspect himself…

…he was a young man, in his mid to late twenties, with artfully-spiked and dyed-white hair, currently having a karaoke session with several girls both his age and younger. He was quite handsome too…too handsome, according to Crash, even remarking at one point that pretty boys like their suspect used to get mugged back on his native Corellia.

"Still too squeaky clean, huh?" Crash asked while sitting back on a chair and munching on a pastry.

"…no, not anymore." Max admitted, eyes narrowed at the suspect and his companions on the screen. "This guy's abetting adolescent delinquency, to say the least, and some of his moves on those girls could be argued by a good lawyer as demonstrating intent to commit statutory rape. But…"

"But…?" Crash prompted.

"Guy's too smooth." Max said, nodding and pointing at one of the girls on the screen. "Add to that one of his companions here being a child actress, if a minor one, and…yeah, this guy just sets my alarms off."

"Well, if you put it that way."

"I am."

"…still," Crash continued after a moment and a cough. "We have to be sure."

"Fair." Max said with a sigh, and reaching up with a hand to rub at his head. "Can't condemn a guy even at 99.999999%, right? You have to be 100% sure. I know that, but still, it can be hard to remember when you've already built up a good sense for these things, and it's been proven right in the past."

"That's what got you sent into the ISB, right?" Crash asked.

"Pretty much." Max said with a nod. "I know it's not the same everywhere, but the federal police back in Germany is very…well, German."

Crash burst out laughing. "What?" he asked.

Max shrugged and smiled. "You know, 'German'." He said. "Very by the book, everything has to follow proper procedure, nothing has to deviate from established guidelines and protocols, and it's all backed up by tons of paperwork. Yeah, it's a stereotype, but it's not that exaggerated, and we still do get the job done even with all that. Most of the time…it's just that sometimes…you just have to go off-book."

"Didn't go well, huh?" Crash asked.

"Oh, it went well." Max said with another shrug. "Too well, even. Just…not really behavior appropriate for the federal German police, only like I said, it went well. So, it was suggested that the ISB might have better use for my talents, and here we are."

"Ah, I see."

Max shrugged yet again. "It's not so bad." He said. "Maybe I'm not a good German or whatever it might be called, but hey, I don't mind. So long as I get my job done, and make a difference at the end of the day, I'm fine with it."

Crash laughed. "Fair enough." He said. "Just so you know, you're not a bad partner to have, you know that?"

"Thanks, Crash." Max said with a laugh of his own, and Crash laughed again.

"No problem."
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Major, we've got a development here."

Makoto sighed while turning away from where Marjatta and a trio of Japanese policemen were hard at work. "Hit me, Crash." She replied over virtual communications.

"Our suspect just invited Miss Mishima for an afternoon ride out into the countryside." Crash began. "I don't know about you, but it smells fishy."

"Yeah, it does." Makoto agreed.

"We have a tracker on the guy's car," Max added. "But we're going to need to switch vehicles along the way. It'd be suspicious if a laundry van tailed them out into the country, wouldn't it?"

"That it would." Makoto agreed.

"Major Okazaki," a member of Team Tengu cut in. "Sawazaki and myself can be on their tail in about…five minutes. Kawashima and Kikuchi can switch with us in ten, the better to avoid drawing suspicion from the suspect."

"Enough time for us to get back with a new ride." Crash added.

"That," Max chimed in. "Or depending on where the suspect is headed to, surround them on the ground. Maybe we can catch them in the act."

"Hopefully without killing the potential victim…Karin Mishima, from your earlier report, yes?" Makoto asked.

"Yes, that's right." Crash confirmed.

"Get on it." Makoto said firmly.

"Yes, ma'am." Crash affirmed before giving a surprised grunt. "Not joining us on the field, major?"

"No, there's been…a complication, on our end." Makoto said in disgust, turning to look where Marjatta and the police were busy restraining a frantically-struggling suspect, who was crying and raving as he thrashed about.

"…let me die…please let me die…" the man sobbed, wet and soaked from having tried to drown himself in a canal in one of Tokyo's parks, ironically saved only by the shocked and horrified ISB agents fishing him out (with a little help from the police). "…I can't live in this world anymore…not without Haruhi-chan…I want to die…please let me die…"

"Major…?" Crash asked, sounding confused even over virtual communications.

"Our suspect just tried killing himself." Makoto said in disgust. "Somehow he found out about the latest victim, and thought it reason enough to kill himself. Of all things to throw your life away for…"

"Oh, I see…wait, I thought this was supposed to be kept under wraps?" Crash asked.

"Then obviously someone talked." Makoto snapped before pulling herself together. "Sorry about that…anyway, we kept it discreet, and the family agreed to cooperate. That said, it wasn't exactly a secret either, even if the media has been leaned on downplay it. Regardless, it'd have filtered out sooner or later, no matter what we did."

"Good point." Crash admitted. "Right then…time's a wasting…if this son of a bitch is our serial killer, we'd better get moving. Again, time's a wasting, as you Terrans like to say."

"Not all Terrans, but sure, let's go with that." Makoto said. "Good luck, captain."

"Yes, ma'am." Crash said before signing off, Makoto crossing her arms while looking over her suicidal quarry, her thoughts dredging up the name of Crash's own quarry.

"Takeshi Hakamatsu…"
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Doesn't this seem a little strange to you?" Crash asked as he and Max followed their suspect at a discreet distance along a road leading away from Tokyo into the Kanto countryside. "I mean…it's been what? Four days? Five days, since the serial killer killed their latest victim. Their seventh victim in eight years, but if this guy is our serial killer, he's about to kill again in less than a week."

"Not…really…" Max said before raising an eyebrow at the towering cyborg beside him. "…didn't you read the profile on our serial killer? The first three victims were all killed within a month of each other, before they went to ground for four years before killing their fourth victim."

"Oh, I see." Crash grumbled while rubbing his head. "Sorry about that…and the succeeding victims?"

"The fifth and sixth victims were all killed within a year of each other," Max replied. "And then the serial killer went to ground for another two years before committing the latest killing."

"Okay…and now he's going to kill again in less than a week…"

"Assuming this is the guy we're looking for."

Crash grunted his agreement, then Max was slowing and giving a wide berth as their quarry slowed to the side of the road. They drove past, picking up speed to avoid giving the impression they had been following, but already Crash was giving orders via virtual communications to a high-flying surveillance drone overhead.

"Well…?" Max asked.

"They're just sitting there, by the road." Crash said. "If that guy's innocent, then they're probably just…making out, I guess."

"Bullshit," Max snapped. "Mishima is seventeen, the legal age in the Empire is twenty. We should go in there, and arrest that bastard, even if they aren't the serial killer we're looking for."

"Yeah, except Japan isn't under direct Imperial rule the way Mars is." Crash reminded Max. "And the legal age here is fifteen."

"Goddamn it." Max hissed, turning a corner and adjusting a virtual map to see how to take a circuitous route around the area.

"Ease up, I…wait a minute." Crash continued. "They're coming out of the car…looks like they're going for a walk."

"…plotting an intercept course." Max said, pulling up and marking a virtual map of the area, which he then sent to Crash via virtual communications. Then switching to high-gear, he picked up speed, swooping down the country road at nearly a hundred kilometers per hour, before finally slowing and coming to a halt at the base of a hill. "Come on, it's a bit of a walk, looks like."

"Right, right." Crash said, already getting out while pulling a blaster pistol. "And remember, hips, shoulder, and knees, in that order. If this guy's who we're looking for, we're going to want him alive."

"Not if he gives us reason to just kill him." Max said, also getting out and pulling his sidearm. Locking the car's doors, he shared a nod with Crash, the two of them switching to purely virtual communications to avoid giving themselves away to anyone nearby.

"I've sent an update to the major." Crash said as they climbed up the hill, past gnarled trees and over rugged and rocky ground. "Police reinforcements are on the way, just in case."

"Right…" Max said, pulling himself up over a rough and steep patch of hillside with the help of a tree. "…according to the drone overhead, our quarry is over…here…about seven minutes on foot…"

"Seven minutes…seven victims…now isn't that ominous?"

"Shit…now you've jinxed it."

Max shot his partner a stormy look, the Corellian briefly looking sheepish before they picked up the pace. Grass, bushes, and small trees rustled as the ISB agents stormed over the hill, optical implants taking up the slack as the Sun dipped below the horizon and the light died. Then they reached an overlooking rise, and caught sight of their quarry.

"Son of a…!" Max began before raising his sidearm, and firing a heartbeat behind Crash.

Orange bolts slammed into the serial killer's left shoulder and knee, dropping the young man with a cry of pain, and allowing the flailing woman to fall free. She fell on all fours, coughing and heaving for breath, and then rolling onto her back, stared at her would-be killer for a couple of moments. Then with a yell of rage, she pounced, strangling him as he'd tried to strangle her, forcing Crash to forcibly pull her away, a cyborg's mechanically-enhanced strength straining against an Augment's genetically-enhanced strength.

"Easy there, girl, easy!" he barked. "It's all over now, you're safe, you don't need to fight! We're ISB, and we're here to help."

"I…ISB…?" the young woman – Karin Mishima – breathed as she stopped struggling.

"Yeah, that's right." Crash said, slowly letting the young woman go, Mishima staring at him before turning back to her would-be killer, who was being pressed into the dirt by Max while being given his rights.

"…a fair trial in a court of law." The German agent coldly said while restraining Hakamatsu by the wrists. "You have the right to a legal representative of your choice. If you cannot afford a legal representative of your choice, then one will be provided for you."

Mishima just kept on staring, before jolting and looking sharply at Crash as he put a hand on her shoulder. "Trust me, kid," the older man softly said, allowing decades of war and hardship to show on his face. "It's not worth it. You shouldn't have to bloody your hands. Not for the likes of him."

"…do you know what he did?" the young woman whispered.

"Yeah, I saw." Crash softly said, even as the skies above rumbled, and the rain began to fall. "Even so."

Mishima stared even as water soaked into her hair and flowed down her face, and then looking down, clutched at herself. Her body shook with slow sobs, Crash pulling off his coat and draping it over the young woman. "Major," he began over virtual communications. "Big update for you."
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few hours later, and Team Nine was meeting together back in Tokyo. "So…he's just a regular nutjob, then?" Sorgis asked.

"That's what it looks like, yes." Makoto said with a sigh. "Hakamatsu doesn't deny any of the charges, whether it's the attempted murder of Karin Mishima, or the murders of all the previous victims. If anything, he's enthusiastically owning up to them. Only…"

"…his motive is that a voice in his head's been telling him that Augment girls are too beautiful," Oliver rumbled. "More beautiful than anyone has any right to be, and someone ought to show them and the world the truth."

"That, and do something about it." Max said with a nod, an expression of disgust on his face. "This…this isn't something to be taken seriously, right?"

"Hakamatsu's lawyer is banking on an insanity defense." Makoto said. "Depending on what the judge says, at the very least, he's going to be evaluated by a mental health professional."

"…that's bullshit." Max snapped.

"Maybe, but that's how the system works." Makoto said before she narrowed her eyes and her voice turned stern. "Believe me, I understand how you feel. But, what's the alternative? Go all vigilante on the guy?"

"…no." Max subsided. "I wish I could, but I won't. I won't sink to his level. I'm better than him."

"You are." Makoto said with a small smile. "Look on the bright side, though. Even if he does somehow get proven to be insane – though I doubt that – he'll be spending the rest of his life in a padded cell, getting pumped full of drugs every single day for the rest of his life. And if he's proven sane…"

"…then he hangs." Max said with an air of vindictive satisfaction. "You know, I'm really thankful this guy's Japanese, no offense to you or your people, major."

"Because unlike your people we have a death penalty?" Makoto asked.

"Yes."

The simple and straightforward answer had Team Nine laughing all around, Max letting out a deep breath as he sat back in his chair. "Well…" he began, feeling the stress of the past few days finally ease. "…now that this is in the hands of the Japanese judiciary, I guess it's back to Mars for us."

"I don't know about the rest of you," Makoto said with a nod. "But I'm looking forward to going home."

"That," Sorgis chimed in. "And the usual fare of anti-government forces and foreign operatives we end up with."

"No argument there." Makoto said, and a ripple of agreement went up around the table. "Mind you, it's really messed up that we'd prefer to deal with that than what we just finished here."

"Life is strange." Marjatta spoke up.

"So it would seem." Oliver said with a nod, a nod shared by the rest of Team Nine.

"No argument there either." Makoto concluded, sighing as she crossed her arms over her chest, and tilted her head back to look up at the ceiling. "Time to go home…back to Mars…"
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

And…it's over quickly. Disappointing, isn't it?

But, should it really be? Not everything has to be part of a bigger conspiracy, a grand and overreaching plot by shadow actors and powers behind thrones against all that is good and just. Sometimes, when bad things happen, it's simply because there's a rotten apple behind it, no more and no less.

Now, you might wonder how the ISB solved things so quickly when the Japanese police were fumbling around for years. Well, that's just it, isn't it? It's the ISB. They have less rules getting in the way, and more room to bend what rules they have to deal with than police. For instance, all those spy programs the ISB used in this chapter to keep an eye on their narrowed down list of suspects? If the Japanese police used something like that, the judge would throw the case out.

The ISB did it? Well within their charter. It'd basically be like the NYPD getting help from the NSA. I'm sure a lawyer/s would argue that the NSA's evidence should be thrown out from how…unlawful, the means were to get it, but more likely than not, the court would decline to tackle that, and just accept the evidence provided. The case would probably get bogged down in appeals for years afterward, but ultimately, it wouldn't really matter.

Now that this mini-arc is over, it's back to Mars.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Star Trek, Ghost in the Shell, Assassin's Creed, and any other franchise referenced in this purely fan-made and not-for-profit work.

Post-Conquest: Insurgence

Chapter 6​

Mars, Tharsis Metropolitan Area, The Suburbs

Rain on Mars was cold. In fact, outside of the cities, rain was rare on Mars, even with all the Coruscanti planetary-scale environmental controls introduced after the Imperial Conquest. Sleet and hail were much more common, to say nothing of snow. Tonight, though, it was raining, dark clouds blotting out the skies overhead, great sheets of icy water pouring down over the Tharsis suburbs and the vast metropole just adjacent.

It made the roads slick and dangerous, automated warnings being issued to all cars and other ground vehicles to stay within a set speed to minimize the risk of vehicular accidents. At the high end, this was forty kilometers per hour, but at this time of night, one such car was speeding along a winding road at nearly ninety kilometers per hour.

Inside the car, a young freelance journalist was gritting his teeth, struggling to keep his car under control while simultaneously uploading certain files onto the network via his cybernetic implants. Well, he was trying to, but network access was down in the area, and given what he'd just uncovered, he had an unpleasant feeling this wasn't coincidence at all.

Zhao Wei carefully inched along in the crawlspace that was one of the internal ventilation shafts of the sprawling suburban mansion that was a retreat for Hypnos Group executives. Recently, there'd been rumors about Hypnos executives getting involved in all sorts of shady stuff during their retreats, from narcotics abuse and soliciting prostitutes on one end, to partaking of demonic rituals on the other.

Now, while narcotics and prostitution were legal in the Empire, if strictly regulated, it'd still be one hell of a scandal if those rumors turned out to be true. Likewise if Hypnos' executives were actually getting involved in some kind of cult or another, Imperial guarantees to freedom of religion be damned.

More importantly for Zhao, if he could find proof one way or another, and make a big story out of it, well…

…what kind of journalist would he be, if he passed up the chance to get his name on the frontpage news?

He could already see it: Hypnos Executives Fingered! Uncovered by intrepid freelance journalist, Zhao Wei!

…okay, it needed more work, but it was a start. Besides, Zhao strongly doubted the rumors were true, and were exaggerating what was actually happening. More likely, the executives were probably just hanging out with lots of drink and finger food while spending time with their mistresses and escorts.

…maybe not that exaggerated after all.

As he approached the end of the shaft, Zhao grew even more careful to avoid making noise, much less any visible sign of his presence to the people in the hall below. Peering through the gaps in the screen, he looked down into the hall, and his eyes widened.

The hall was long and wide, square pillars rising up in twin files to the ceiling along a carpeted aisle leading from the double doors on one end of the hall to the altar on a dais on the other end. Kneeling before the latter were half a dozen figures in cowled robes of black, while standing to the sides were dozens of other figures, also in matching robes. And before the altar, there was an old woman, dressed in robes of black brocade with white lace embroidery, and carrying a golden cup in one hand.

One by one, she approached each of the kneeling men, and dabbing a thumb in the cup, used it to draw a cross on their foreheads. "May the Father of Understanding guide you," she said as she did so to one man. "Richard Potter."

Zhao's blood ran cold, for he recognized the name as that of an up and rising senior manager at Rivers Architectural Services, an affiliate of the Hypnos Group of Companies. More than that, there was the black flag with a colossal double cross worked in red and silver hanging on the wall behind the altar, with matching crosses on the collars of the robes of the men below.

And most likely, hanging from the chain around the woman's neck.

Templars. Jacobins. The Majestic Twelve. Section 31. The Order of the Ancients.

The greatest villains in Terran history, to the point that even exiled Jedi-in-hiding had deigned to ally with Inquisitors in service to the Sith Emperor during the First Neo-Federation War to stand against their evil.

He needed to get out of here, report this to the ISB, and spread news far and wide. Hypnos had to be exposed, the cancer shown for all to see, so the Empire could cut out and burn the cancer before it could spread, and enslave the galaxy once again.

"Damn it, why can't I…?" Zhao snapped to himself, only to break off at an abrupt bump to his car. Belatedly, he realized a pair of lights shining from behind his car, followed by another bump as a car rammed him again. "Shit, shit, shit…!"

Zhao's car jolted at another bump, before the man stepped on the accelerator and sped up to a hundred kilometers an hour. The gap between the cars widened momentarily, only for the pursuers to speed up and just as quickly catch up. Zhao's car jolted again as his pursuers rammed him from the rear once more, before tires screeched in protest as he jinked wildly from side to side and throw them off.

Undeterred, Zhao's pursuers, kept up, and then speeding up, sidled up to his car with the screeching protest of metal against metal. Zhao looked sideways, through the windows, and watched as the other car's windows slid down, Templars coldly and emotionlessly looking back at him before raising guns his way.

"Cao ni ma…!" Zhao cursed as he abruptly tried to evade, moments before archaic slugthrowers opened fire on full-auto. Probably why the Templars were using them to begin with, he thought, even as a rain of lead spiderwebbed his windows facing the Templars. Then he gasped, as he finally managed to get a connection to the network. "YES!"

Zhao exulted, immediately dumping his files into the network, if not for general dissemination, but to someone he could trust. Then he gasped in horror, as a pair of lights appeared around the corner up ahead, a moment before a truck appeared and blew its horn loudly in warning. "NO!" he screamed, before wildly turning the wheel to avoid getting steamrolled by a twenty-four wheeler.

Metal screamed as Zhao's car drove straight through the safety railing on the roadside, practically nosediving several meters down the hillside, and crumpling its nose on impact against the ground. Zhao died mercifully quickly at the impact with the ground, moments before his car tilted forward and crashed on its roof. Then, a few moments later, compromised fuel cells sparked, and the car went up in flames.

The Templars above looked down coldly, and on ascertaining that the witness was dead, quickly left.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Following Day, Tharsis Metropolitan Area, Central City, Mirage Towers

Makoto yawned and stretched as she sat at her apartment's table, only looking up as her girlfriend brought platters of food from the kitchen. "Coffee…?" Aimi asked.

"Please and thank you." Makoto said with a nod.

Aimi nodded back, and returning to the kitchen, came back after a minute with two steaming mugs of coffee. "So," she began while sitting down after placing Makoto's coffee in front of her. "What do you want to do today?"

Makoto shrugged. "After finally getting a day off for the first time in a long while," she said. "I'm just fine with spending the day lazing around at home. That said, if you want to go out and do something, I don't mind tagging along."

"Well, we could use some new pots and pans." Aimi said with a sigh. "What we have is getting rusty if not patchy…no surprise, really, considering they're what…? Ten, maybe more years old, from back before we met each other."

"Point." Makoto said. "Hell, my pots and pans came with me from Earth, no wonder the wear and tear's gotten to them. Well, alright, if we need to get new kitchenware, then I'm sure we can find good and affordable pieces over at Hamilton's. Anything else we need?"

"...some of our underwear's getting worn out…" Aimi hesitantly said. "...you never noticed?"

Makoto looked up at that, thinking back to whenever it was her turn to do their shared laundry, and taking advantage of an Augment's eidetic memory. "Okay, yeah, I get what you mean." she admitted. "Right then…new kitchenware and new underwear…anything else?"

"...no, I don't think so." Aimi said after a moment's thought. "Oh, I know! We can have a lunch date!"

Makoto laughed. "Sounds good to me." she said before taking a drink of her coffee, and then putting her mug down, picked up her rice bowl. "But first, breakfast."

Aimi laughed in her turn. "Fair enough." she said, taking her girlfriend's rice bowl to fill it.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"You're sure about this?"

Elsewhere in Tharsis, a pair of men were sitting at a busy diner and having breakfast together. Men and women thronged past on the street outside, from corporate types in sharp business wear to blue-collar workers and schoolchildren in uniforms of various cuts. Horns sounded periodically from the road beyond, where trucks and cars were bumper to bumper during the morning rush.

"Come on Samir, you know me better than that." Gang Wu replied over a bowl of spiced noodles with fried dumplings on the side.

"True…" Samir al-Sabet mused as he rubbed the Data Storage Device (DSD) he was holding on one hand.

"So…now what…?" Gang asked.

"I'll have my friends look into this first." Samir said after a long moment. "If there really was just an accident, well, I suppose you can have this one. And if it isn't, then there'll be hell to pay."

"Yeah, about that…" Gang said with a cough. "...I uh…I have kids to feed, you know? So, uh…"

Samir smiled reassuringly. "If things go poorly," he added. "Then I'll be sure you won't be named. Don't worry. You've been a good…customer, and there's no profit in turning off reliable income, so to speak. We'll keep you from getting entangled in this, at least anymore than you already have."

"Oh, I see…well, thanks." Gang said with a sigh of relief. Then he gestured for a waiter droid, while also pulling out a wallet. "Anyway, I need to get going…"

"Ah, of course, but to further reassure you, let me pay for your breakfast for you." Samir said, and taking the bill from the droid before Gang could take it.

"I…thank you very much." Gang said with a bow, and then getting up after the droid left with Samir's credits bowed again before leaving. Alone at the table, Samir nibbled at a few nuts left on his plate, before opening a virtual communications channel through a cybernetic implant.

"Anya, I just got word of something disturbing about that freelancer's death late last night." he said. "We'll need to look into it some more, and if it pans out, we're going to need to deal with this in a way that they can't cover it up."

"You mean…oh." Anastasia 'Anya' Alexeyevna Zirinova replied. "Yes…of course…I'll get in touch with our contacts, see what they can turn up. Do we…need to go big with this?"

"Leave that to me, but prepare just in case." Samir replied.

"Understood, brother."

Samir gave the virtual equivalent of a nod, and then closed the channel.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"How about this one?" Aimi asked.

"No…that's too big." Makoto said after a moment's thought. "We don't need a pot that big…or rather, our big pot isn't so worn down that we need to replace it yet."

"Good point." Aimi said.

The two Japanese Augments were currently at Hamilton's Department Store, one of the biggest shopping chains not just on Mars, but across Sol if not the whole Sol Sector. It even had branches in neighboring sectors, all the way to Orion, even, although it had yet to expand outside what the Empire called the inner territories.

That, and the Vulcan Sector, because most Vulcans were such sticks in the mud. There were exceptions, yes, but they were few and far in between, and preferred to leave the Vulcan Sector to get out of overbearing social pressure to conform to Surakian principles.

Back to Aimi and Makoto, between them they had a shopping cart piled high with dozens of packets of new underwear, as well as wood and metal hangers. They'd also picked out a new pair of frying pans, a five-inch and a ten-inch, along with a new saucepan and a stack of fired stoneware platters imported from Venus. Drinking glasses too, if mass-produced ones made on Mars, but they were of good quality and affordable prices.

"…hey, look!" Aimi said, pointing across the shopping floor into the distance. "They're having a sale on lamps of all shapes and sizes!"

Makoto groaned. "Still looking for a lava lamp, Aimi?" she asked.

"What?" Aimi asked, looking curiously at her girlfriend, who just gave a sigh.

"Never mind, let's go and see." she said, Aimi eagerly walking ahead while Makoto followed after her while pushing the shopping cart along. Several minutes later, and Aimi was carefully placing a pair of heavy boxes into the cart, causing Makoto to raise an eyebrow.

"Those aren't lava lamps." she said.

"No, but we could use more table lamps at home, if only to save on electricity." Aimi cheerfully replied. "Smaller bulb, less electricity, for when we only need a table well-lit, and not the whole room."

"...good point."

Aimi beamed.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Excuse me, sir!" a voice shouted at Aiden Roberts, and a member of Prism Technologies', an affiliate of Hypnos Group, board of directors. "I'm with the Tharsis Times, and we'd like to ask a few questions if it's alright?"

"...I'm sorry, but I don't have the time to answer any questions right now." Roberts said over a shoulder as corporate security restrained the journalist from getting any closer.

"Sir…! Sir…!" the journalist shouted after Roberts as he walked away. "Just a few minutes…sir! Is it true the journalist who died in an accident just a short drive away from a Hypnos corporate retreat was killed to silence him after he discovered something scandalous going on during the previous night?"

Roberts jolted to a halt and threw a shocked look over a shoulder at the journalist, which quickly morphed into outrage. "That's absurd!" he snapped. "Ridiculous, even! Is this what passes for journalism these days? Rumormongering and salacious libel?"

"With all due respect, Director Roberts," the journalist said with a knowing smile. "A reliable source has informed us that several directors along with various share and stockholders were present at the retreat during the previous night, that the event they attended ended with corporate security placing the building on lockdown and…"

"You can tell your editors that they need better standards for their sources," Roberts angrily cut in. "And that unless they want to hear from our lawyers, they should avoid throwing around baseless insinuations and accusations. Now, if you don't mind, I have real work to attend to, and any further questions can and should be directed to my secretary. Good day!"

Roberts stormed off, corporate security holding back the journalist as he reached out to and called for Roberts. "Director Roberts…! Sir…!" he shouted, before being thrown back by the corporate security men, and then backing away with hands raised as they grabbed (but refrained from drawing) their batons.

More importantly, however, the confrontation had taken place more or less in public, with the journalist having accosted the director just outside of Prism Technologies' main lobby. It had been caught on camera by another journalist nearby, and there were plenty of passersby too who were already talking about and sharing what had just happened on the network.

This was not lost on the people inside the building, with various members of Robert's staff visibly accosting him inside the lobby as he made his way to the elevators.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Looks like Robert's didn't take too well to getting so publicly challenged about what happened last night."

"No, I didn't think he would." Samir replied, looking out over Tharsis from atop a skyscraper, the cold Martian winds blowing hard all around him. "Still, this should focus his and his allies' attention on everything potentially incriminating about last night…and leave them open elsewhere."

"We're still digging at things…" Anya cautiously said, but it was clear even over virtual communications from the tone of her voice that she was just being polite (or professional).

"But…?" Samir pressed.

"Numbers don't lie." Anya grimly said. "Oleg and Yigun hit paydirt just from the first batch of numbers, and quickly linked them up into something terrible. To think they could have gotten this far under all our noses…"

"That's how they've always been…" Samir said. "...that's how we are, too…at the end of the day, we're mirror images of each other…"

"And isn't that such a terrible thing?" Anya asked.

"...now's not the time for philosophy…" Samir said after a moment. "...what's our status?"

"We're about a third of the way through." Anya replied. "We could go faster, but we'd risk tripping various cybersecurity alerts. Not just theirs, but other people and groups who've got nothing to do with this, to say nothing of the ISB and Imperial Intelligence. I know we've got working arrangements with some of those, but setting off an uproar…they could use it to cover up a lot of stuff we could otherwise expose."

"It can't be helped." Samir said. "Just in case, though, we should throw a few cyberattacks at Prism and other Hypnos companies. Draw attention away from the numbers we're looking at, and the connections they lead to, and towards protecting the inner workings that we only need to know exist from the outside. They'll be dealt with soon enough."

"Will do…good thinking, brother." Anya said with the virtual equivalent of a nod.

Samir smiled, then looked up at the skies above. Red streaked with white, a few transplanted birds and other species winging their ways or riding the thermals of Tharsis above the city below. "Nothing is true," he said softly to himself, as he turned and spread his arms, before letting himself fall backwards and down to the ground below, light flickering around him as a personal cloak engaged. "Everything is permitted."

And then he was gone.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

As Team Nine - or its leader, at least - takes a day off, the Assassin Brotherhood enters the stage.

Yeah, even the Jedi (those few that managed to escape both the Great Jedi Purge and hid in the New Territories) and the Sith (or their Inquisitors - the Legends version, and not those posers from canon - at least) both think the Templars are full of shit. And for the first time since the reign of Darth Vitiate, joined forces during the First Neo-Federation War to put them down like the mad dogs that they are.

 

[ATP]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Star Trek, Ghost in the Shell, Assassin's Creed, and any other franchise referenced in this purely fan-made and not-for-profit work.

Post-Conquest: Insurgence

Chapter 6​

Mars, Tharsis Metropolitan Area, The Suburbs

Rain on Mars was cold. In fact, outside of the cities, rain was rare on Mars, even with all the Coruscanti planetary-scale environmental controls introduced after the Imperial Conquest. Sleet and hail were much more common, to say nothing of snow. Tonight, though, it was raining, dark clouds blotting out the skies overhead, great sheets of icy water pouring down over the Tharsis suburbs and the vast metropole just adjacent.

It made the roads slick and dangerous, automated warnings being issued to all cars and other ground vehicles to stay within a set speed to minimize the risk of vehicular accidents. At the high end, this was forty kilometers per hour, but at this time of night, one such car was speeding along a winding road at nearly ninety kilometers per hour.

Inside the car, a young freelance journalist was gritting his teeth, struggling to keep his car under control while simultaneously uploading certain files onto the network via his cybernetic implants. Well, he was trying to, but network access was down in the area, and given what he’d just uncovered, he had an unpleasant feeling this wasn’t coincidence at all.

Zhao Wei carefully inched along in the crawlspace that was one of the internal ventilation shafts of the sprawling, suburban mansion that was a retreat for Hypnos Group executives. Recently, there’d been rumors about Hypnos executives getting involved in all sorts of shady stuff during their retreats, from narcotics abuse and soliciting prostitutes on one end, to partaking of demonic rituals on the other.

Now, while narcotics and prostitution were legal in the Empire, if strictly regulated, it’d still be one hell of a scandal if those rumors turned out to be true. Likewise if Hypnos’ executives were actually getting involved in some kind of cult or the other, Imperial guarantees to freedom of religion be damned.

More importantly for Zhao, if he could find proof one way or another, and make a big story out of it, well…

…what kind of journalist would he be, if he passed up the chance to get his name on the frontpage news?

He could already see it: Hypnos Executives Fingered! Uncovered by intrepid freelance journalist, Zhao Wei!

…okay, it needed more work, but it was a start. Besides, Zhao strongly doubted the rumors were true, and were exaggerating what was actually happening. More likely, the executives were probably just hanging out with lots of drink and finger food while spending time with their mistresses and escorts.

…maybe not that exaggerated after all.

As he approached the end of the shaft, Zhao grew even more careful to avoid making noise, much less any visible sign of his presence to the people in the hall below. Peering through the gaps in the screen, he looked down into the hall, and his eyes widened.

The hall was long and wide, square pillars rising up in twin files to the ceiling along a carpeted aisle leading from the double doors on one end of the hall to the altar on a dais on the other end. Kneeling before the latter were half a dozen figures in cowled robes of black, while standing to the sides were dozens of other figures, also in matching robes. And before the altar, there was an old woman, dressed in robes of black brocade with white lace embroidery, and carrying a golden cup in one hand.

One by one, she approached each of the kneeling men, and dabbing a thumb in the cup, used it to draw a cross on their foreheads. “May the Father of Understanding guide you,” she said as she did so to one man. “Richard Potter.”

Zhao’s blood ran cold, for he recognized the name as that of an up and rising senior manager at Rivers Architectural Services, an affiliate of the Hypnos Group of Companies. More than that, there was the black flag with a colossal double cross worked in red and silver hanging on the wall behind the altar, with matching crosses on the collars of the robes of the men below.

And most likely, hanging from the chain around the woman’s neck.

Templars. Jacobins. The Majestic Twelve. Section 31. The Order of the Ancients.

The greatest villains in Terran history, to the point that even exiled Jedi-in-hiding had deigned to ally with Inquisitors in service to the Sith Emperor during the First Neo-Federation War to stand against their evil.

He needed to get out of here, report this to the ISB, and spread news far and wide. Hypnos had to be exposed, the cancer shown for all to see, so the Empire could cut out and burn the cancer before it could spread, and enslave the galaxy once again.

“Damn it, why can’t I…?” Zhao snapped to himself, only to break off at an abrupt bump to his car. Belatedly, he realized a pair of lights shining from behind his car, followed by another bump as a car rammed him again. “Shit, shit, shit…!”

Zhao’s car jolted at another bump, before the man stepped on the accelerator and sped up to a hundred kilometers an hour. The gap between the cars widened momentarily, only for the pursuers to speed up and just as quickly catch up. Zhao’s car jolted again as his pursuers rammed him from the rear once more, before tires screeched in protest as he jinked wildly from side to side and throw them off.

Undeterred, Zhao’s pursuers, kept up, and then speeding up, sidled up to his car with the screeching protest of metal against metal. Zhao looked sideways, through the windows, and watched as the other car’s windows slid down, Templars coldly and emotionlessly looking back at him before raising guns his way.

“Cao ni ma…!” Zhao cursed as he abruptly tried to evade, moments before archaic slugthrowers opened fire on full-auto. Probably why the Templars were using them to begin with, he thought, even as a rain of lead spiderwebbed his windows facing the Templars. Then he gasped, as he finally managed to get a connection to the network. “YES!”

Zhao exulted, immediately dumping his files into the network, if not general dissemination, but to someone he could trust. Then he gasped in horror, as a pair of lights appeared around the corner up ahead, a moment before a truck appeared and blew its horn loudly in warning. “NO!” he screamed, before wildly turning the wheel to avoid getting steamrolled by a twenty-four wheeler.

Metal screamed as Zhao’s car drove straight through the safety railing on the roadside, practically nosediving several meters down the hillside, and crumpling its nose on impact against the ground. Zhao died mercifully quickly at the impact with the ground, moments before his car tilted forward and crashed on its roof. Then, a few moments later, compromised fuel cells sparked, and the car went up in flames.

The Templars above looked down coldly, and on ascertaining that the witness was dead, quickly left.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Following Day, Tharsis Metropolitan Area, Central City, Mirage Towers

Makoto yawned and stretched as she sat at her apartment’s table, only looking up as her girlfriend brought platters of food from the kitchen. “Coffee…?” Aimi asked.

“Please and thank you.” Makoto said with a nod.

Aimi nodded back, and returning to the kitchen, came back after a minute with two steaming mugs of coffee. “So,” she began while sitting down after placing Makoto’s coffee in front of her. “What do you want to do today?”

Makoto shrugged. “After finally getting a day off for the first time in a long while,” she said. “I’m just fine with spending the day lazing around at home. That said, if you want to go out and do something, I don’t mind tagging along.”

“Well, we could use some new pots and pans.” Aimi said with a sigh. “What we have is getting rusty if not patchy…no surprise, really, considering they’re what…? Ten, maybe more years old, from back before we met each other.”

“Point.” Makoto said. “Hell, my pots and pans came with me from Earth, no wonder the wear and tear’s gotten to them. Well, alright, if we need to get new kitchenware, then I’m sure we can find good and affordable pieces over at Hamilton’s. Anything else we need?”

“...some of our underwear’s getting worn out…” Aimi hesitantly said. “...you never noticed?”

Makoto looked up at that, thinking back to whenever it was her turn to do their shared laundry, and taking advantage of an Augment’s eidetic memory. “Okay, yeah, I get what you mean.” she admitted. “Right then…new kitchenware and new underwear…anything else?”

“...no, I don’t think so.” Aimi said after a moment’s thought. “Oh, I know! We can have a lunch date!”

Makoto laughed. “Sounds good to me.” she said before taking a drink of her coffee, and then putting her mug down, picked up her rice bowl. “But first, breakfast.”

Aimi laughed in her turn. “Fair enough.” she said, taking her girlfriend’s rice bowl to fill it.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“You’re sure about this?”

Elsewhere in Tharsis, a pair of men were sitting at a busy diner and having breakfast together. Men and women thronged past on the street outside, from corporate types in sharp business wear to blue-collar workers and schoolchildren in uniforms of various cuts. Horns sounded periodically from the road beyond, where trucks and cars were bumper to bumper during the morning rush.

“Come on Samir, you know me better than that.” Gang Wu replied over a bowl of spice noodles with fried dumplings on the side.

“True…” Samir al-Sabet mused as he rubbed the Data Storage Device (DSD) he was holding on one hand.

“So…now what…?” Gang asked.

“I’ll have my friends look into this first.” Samir said after a long moment. “If there really was just an accident, well, I suppose you can have this one. And if it isn’t, then there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Yeah, about that…” Gang said with a cough. “...I uh…I have kids to feed, you know? So, uh…”

Samir smiled reassuringly. “If things go poorly,” he added. “Then I’ll be sure you won’t be named. Don’t worry. You’ve been a good…customer, and there’s no profit in turning off reliable income, so to speak. We’ll keep you from getting entangled in this, at least anymore than you already have.”

“Oh, I see…well, thanks.” Gang said with a sigh of relief. Then he gestured for a waiter droid, while also pulling out a wallet. “Anyway, I need to get going…”

“Ah, of course, but to further reassure you, let me pay for your breakfast for you.” Samir said, and taking the bill from the droid before Gang could take it.

“I…thank you very much.” Gang said with a bow, and then getting up after the droid left with Samir’s credits bowed again before leaving. Alone at the table, Samir nibbled at a few nuts left on his plate, before opening a virtual communications channel through a cybernetic implant.

“Anya, I just got word of something disturbing about that freelancer’s death late last night.” he said. “We’ll need to look into it some more, and if it pans out, we’re going to need to deal with this in a way that they can’t cover it up.”

“You mean…oh.” Anastasia ‘Anya’ Alexeyevna Zirinova replied. “Yes…of course…I’ll get in touch with our contacts, see what they can turn up. Do we…need to go big with this?”

“Leave that to me, but prepare just in case.” Samir replied.

“Understood, brother.”

Samir gave the virtual equivalent of a nod, and then closed the channel.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“How about this one?” Aimi asked.

“No…that’s too big.” Makoto said after a moment’s thought. “We don’t need a pot that big…or rather, our big pot isn’t so worn down that we need to replace it yet.”

“Good point.” Aimi said.

The two Japanese Augments were currently at Hamilton’s Department Store, one of the biggest shopping chains not just on Mars, but across Sol if not the Sol Sector. It even had branches in neighboring sectors, all the way to Orion, even, although it had yet to expand outside what the Empire called the inner territories.

That, and the Vulcan Sector, because most Vulcans were such sticks in the mud. There were exceptions, yes, but they were few and far in between, and preferred to leave the Vulcan Sector to get out of overbearing social pressure to conform to Surakian principles.

Back to Aimi and Makoto, between them they had a shopping cart piled high with dozens of packets of new underwear, as well as wood and metal hangers. They’d also picked out a new pair of frying pans, a five-inch and a ten-inch, along with a new saucepan and a stack of fired stoneware platters imported from Venus. Drinking glasses too, if mass-produced ones made on Mars, but they were of good quality and affordable prices.

“…hey, look!” Aimi said, pointing across the shopping floor into the distance. “They’re having a sale on lamps of all shapes and sizes!”

Makoto groaned. “Still looking for a lava lamp, Aimi?” she asked.

“What?” Aimi asked, looking curiously at her girlfriend, who just gave a sigh.

“Never mind, let’s go and see.” she said, Aimi eagerly walking ahead while Makoto followed after her while pushing the shopping cart along. Several minutes later, and Aimi was carefully placing a pair of heavy boxes into the cart, causing Makoto to raise an eyebrow.

“Those aren’t lava lamps.” she said.

“No, but we could use more table lamps at home, if only to save on electricity.” Aimi cheerfully replied. “Smaller bulb, less electricity, for when we only need a table well-lit, and not the whole room.”

“...good point.”

Aimi beamed.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Excuse me, sir!” a voice shouted at Aiden Roberts, and a member of Prism Technologies’, an affiliate of Hypnos Group, board of directors. “I’m with the Tharsis Times, and we’d like to ask a few questions if it’s alright?”

“...I’m sorry, but I don’t have the time to answer any questions right now.” Roberts said over a shoulder as corporate security restrained the journalist from getting any closer.

“Sir…! Sir…!” the journalist shouted after Roberts as he walked away. “Just a few minutes…sir! Is it true the journalist who died in an accident just a short drive away from a Hypnos corporate retreat was killed to silence him after he discovered something scandalous going on during the previous night?”

Roberts jolted to a halt and threw a shocked look over a shoulder at the journalist, which quickly morphed into outrage. “That’s absurd!” he snapped. “Ridiculous, even! Is this what passes for journalism these days? Rumormongering and salacious libel?”

“With all due respect, Director Roberts,” the journalist said with a knowing smile. “A reliable source has informed us that several directors along with various share and stockholders were present at the retreat during the previous night, that the event they attended ended with corporate security placing the building on lockdown and…”

“You can tell your editors that they need better standards for their sources,” Roberts angrily cut in. “And that unless they want to hear from our lawyers, they should avoid throwing around baseless insinuations and accusations. Now, if you don’t mind, I have real work to attend to, and any further questions can and should be directed to my secretary. Good day!”

Roberts stormed off, corporate security holding back the journalist as he reached out to and called for Roberts. “Director Roberts…! Sir…!” he shouted, before being thrown back by the corporate security men, and then backing away with hands raised as they grabbed (but refrained from drawing) their batons.

More importantly, however, the confrontation had taken place more or less in public, with the journalist having accosted the director just outside of Prism Technologies’ main lobby. It had been caught on camera by another journalist nearby, and there were plenty of passersby too who were already talking about and sharing what had just happened on the network.

This was not lost on the people inside the building, with various members of Robert’s staff visibly accosting him inside the lobby as he made his way to the elevators.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Looks like Robert’s didn’t take too well to getting so publicly challenged about what happened last night.”

“No, I didn’t think he would.” Samir replied, looking out over Tharsis from atop a skyscraper, the cold Martian winds blowing hard all around him. “Still, this should focus his and his allies’ attention on everything potentially incriminating about last night…and leave them open elsewhere.”

“We’re still digging at things…” Anya cautiously said, but it was clear even over virtual communications from the tone of her voice that she was just being polite (or professional).

“But…?” Samir pressed.

“Numbers don’t lie.” Anya grimly said. “Oleg and Yigun hit paydirt just from the first batch of numbers, and quickly linked them up into something terrible. To think they could have gotten this far under all our noses…”

“That’s how they’ve always been…” Samir said. “...that’s how we are, too…at the end of the day, we’re mirror images of each other…”

“And isn’t that such a terrible thing?” Anya asked.

“...now’s not the time for philosophy…” Samir said after a moment. “...what’s our status?”

“We’re about a third of the way through.” Anya replied. “We could go faster, but we’d risk tripping various cybersecurity alerts. Not just theirs, but other people and groups who’ve got nothing to do with this, to say nothing of the ISB and Imperial Intelligence. I know we’ve got working arrangements with some of those, but setting off an uproar…they could use it to cover up a lot of stuff we could otherwise expose.”

“It can’t be helped.” Samir said. “Just in case, though, we should throw a few cyberattacks at Prism and other Hypnos companies. Draw attention away from the numbers we’re looking at, and the connections they lead to, and towards protecting the inner workings that we only need to know exist from the outside. They’ll be dealt with soon enough.”

“Will do…good thinking, brother.” Anya said with the virtual equivalent of a nod.

Samir smiled, then looked up at the skies above. Red streaked with white, a few transplanted birds and other species winging their ways or riding the thermals of Tharsis above the city below. “Nothing is true,” he said softly to himself, as he turned and spread his arms, before letting himself fall backwards and down to the ground below, light flickering around him as a personal cloak engaged. “Everything is permitted.”

And then he was gone.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

As Team Nine - or its leader, at least - takes a day off, the Assassin Brotherhood enters the stage.

Yeah, even the Jedi (those few that managed to escape both the Great Jedi Purge and hid in the New Territories) and the Sith (or their Inquisitors - the Legends version, and not those posers from canon - at least) both think the Templars are full of shit. And for the first time since the reign of Darth Vitiate, joined forces during the First Neo-Federation War to put them down like the mad dogs that they are.

Well,Templars were full of shit,even for Sith.
But - why they are so stupid? making hidden shrine for meeting of important people is recipe for disaster.
Masons could do so now only becouse they control our world.
If they were hunted,like in your story,they would not last even one year.

Hidden small groups which do not contact each other,and do not knew where others are - such organisation could survive,but not controlled by bosses from hidden lair.
Bedcouse such hidden lair would be their tomb,when Inquisition catch them.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Well,Templars were full of shit,even for Sith.

If nothing else, what's the value of ruling over mindless animals? Sure, you - or the Templars - could say ruling over people who could eventually rise up and topple you is even more pointless, but for the Sith, that's exactly how it's supposed to be. A ruler who gets overthrown by his own subjects does not deserve to rule any further, and their subjects have proven their strength. Strength to break their chains, and claim freedom for themselves.

Passion to strength, strength to power, power to freedom: the essence of the Sith.

The Sith are evil space wizards, but they genuinely believe in their code. If a person has the strength and will to find their own way and walk it come what may to their desired end, then they rightfully deserve everything they can get a hold of.

"Charity is for the weak and the lazy. The Sith Empire is neither."
- Darth Decimus, Master of Military Strategy

The Templar ideology is simply anathema to everything the Sith stand for.

But - why they are so stupid? making hidden shrine for meeting of important people is recipe for disaster.
Masons could do so now only becouse they control our world.
If they were hunted,like in your story,they would not last even one year.

Hidden small groups which do not contact each other,and do not knew where others are - such organisation could survive,but not controlled by bosses from hidden lair.
Bedcouse such hidden lair would be their tomb,when Inquisition catch them.

Overconfidence is a thing, especially once they managed to escape the initial purges, and reinventing themselves, have regained power and influence under the new Imperial regime. Hell, the only reason they even got busted in the first place was because some journalist was sneaking around, and even then, he barely managed to get the word out. Had the Templar goons killed him a few minutes earlier, he could never have sent his data to his friend, and probably would just have been a victim of reckless driving during heavy rain.

 

[Causeimboredrightnow]

Cool update

Will we be able to see the alliance between the inquisitor and the Jedi ? Cause that sounds cool

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Cool update

Will we be able to see the alliance between the inquisitor and the Jedi ? Cause that sounds cool

Maybe...I have some rough concepts. I do plan to expand on the Neo-Federation Wars at some point, but...! One thing at a time, so I want to finish this sequel first.

Mind you, it's not without precedent. Both Grand Master Shan and Darth Marr's command fleets (among others) joined forces to stop Revan at Yavin 4, and later on, Sith and Jedi alike fought as part of the Eternal Alliance against the Eternal Empire of Zakuul. Granted, that's about 3,000 years before this story, so it's probably legend or semi-fragmented historical data by now, but again, it's not without precedent.

 

[Bassoe]

But - why they are so stupid? making hidden shrine for meeting of important people is recipe for disaster.
Masons could do so now only becouse they control our world.
If they were hunted,like in your story,they would not last even one year.

Hidden small groups which do not contact each other,and do not knew where others are - such organisation could survive,but not controlled by bosses from hidden lair.
Bedcouse such hidden lair would be their tomb,when Inquisition catch them.

Being incriminating is a feature not a bug. Same principle as epstein island. Templars are a bunch of power-hungry sociopaths, their conspiracy needs something to keep all individual conspirators "loyal" to the conspiracy as a whole.

The two MBAs were still droning on about methodologies. These junior executives were always so earnest in their Savile Row suits. One was a pasty-white Brit, the other a Pakistani, also with an English accent.Probably graduates of the best schools. A wife and two young children at home—and no idea that there was video on file somewhere of them having sex with young women (or men) while they were on business in Panama, orMali, or Brazil, or anywhere really. Get the footage while they’re up-and-coming—before they suspect anyone would care. Before they become powerful. These rich dynasties had been using offshore photo mills for decades to enforce loyalty with one another, their business partners, and their kids. Get them married, set them up as respectable people in the community. Pay them tons of money—but always get photos of them with underage hookers. The more perverse the better. It could pay huge dividends when they chaired a government committee or tried to go public with damaging information. Political ideology didn’t matter. They hosted junkets for left-wingers, right-wingers. The Major had cut his teeth on aPanama operation like that back in the late eighties, using cocaine and sex workers to generate potentially career-ending imagery that made the business world go round. Photoshop had pretty much ended the still picture side of the business by making photographs meaningless. High-def video was the only way to go now, and sooner or later computer graphics would do that in, too. Someone really had to come up with a solution, or the entire blackmail industry was doomed. Thankfully, The Major had long ago moved on to more serious operations.

 

[ATP]

Being incriminating is a feature not a bug. Same principle as epstein island. Templars are a bunch of power-hungry sociopaths, their conspiracy needs something to keep all individual conspirators "loyal" to the conspiracy as a whole.

I almost pity Them.Almost.

 

[Coyote]

I just read the other thread and this one today.

Wonderful I like how you made the Empire liked in that galaxy and very creative descriptions when needed like Mars.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Imperial Grand Admiral Jaenera, Marquise of Dragonstone, Countess Targaryen, Viceroy of the New Territories, Conqueror of Earth, Scourge of the Federation, Anathema to the Order, and Friend of the Brotherhood, in court dress.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

I notice that in her titles she's called the Friend of the Brotherhood. Is the Brotherhood something that hasn't been introduced yet, because I don't remember any group of that name so far. Than again I could just be forgetting something.

Also, is this picture AI generated? Not that I mind if it is. Just curious.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

I notice that in her titles she's called the Friend of the Brotherhood. Is the Brotherhood something that hasn't been introduced yet, because I don't remember any group of that name so far. Than again I could just be forgetting something.

The Assassins? They showed up in the last chapter.

Also, is this picture AI generated? Not that I mind if it is. Just curious.

Yes, Gencraft. It's stated outright in the threadmarks.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

The Assassins? They showed up in the last chapter.

I see that now. But when I read the word "Brotherhood" nothing immediately sprang to mind. Probably because I don't know much about Assassin's Creed.

Yes, Gencraft. It's stated outright in the threadmarks.

I see that now too. I have no idea how I missed it. Sorry for the pointless question.

 

[Jaenera Targaryen]

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Star Trek, Ghost in the Shell, Assassin’s Creed, and any other franchise referenced in this purely fan-made and not-for-profit work.

Post-Conquest: Insurgence

Chapter 7​

“So,” Crash began as he and the rest of Team Nine watched live footage of Hypnos Group’s press conference over recent allegations about involvement in the death of one Zhao Wei. “Do any of you guys really believe any of this crap the guy at the mike is spewing out?”

“Hard to say.” Makoto replied. “But, Hypnos Group’s been on ISB and Intelligence’s watchlists for a while now. So even if there isn’t any hard evidence implicating them with that journalist who got killed the other day, well, these allegations might not be so unfounded at all. But if there is, we’re talking about possible murder here, and involving big time corporate bosses to boot…”

“So it wouldn’t just be under ISB jurisdiction,” Jochen rumbled. “But potentially serious enough that we’re going to need serious firepower to bring Hypnos to heel.”

“It also begs the question of what the hell Hypnos was up to that it was worth killing a journalist and risking drawing so much attention to themselves.” Sorgis chimed in.

“...if I had to guess, the usual crap.” Crash said in disgust. “Money laundering, embezzlement, racketeering, tax evasions, things like that. Or, he found something a little too personal, as far as Hypnos’ bosses are concerned, say…them in very compromising positions with shall we say…ladies of the night…”

The Corellian finished with a wink and a smirk, prompting Marjatta to briefly close her eyes. “Orgy.” she laconically said in a deadpan tone, and prompting laughter from all around.

“In all seriousness,” Makoto mused once the laughter had died down. “The corporations have been flexing various muscles for a while now. If this turns out to be more than just sensationalist allegations, it’s an opportunity to remind the corporations that even they have to play by the rules in this galaxy.”

“No arguments there, major.” Crash agreed with another laugh.

“Corporations getting too big for their shoes started the Clone Wars.” Sorgis agreed with a nod. “Wouldn’t want to see that happen in this galaxy, and considering the viceroy fought in the Clone Wars too, I doubt she would either.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that.” Oliver said. “The viceroy getting involved, that is. Because if she does…”

“...shit hits the turbine, as the Terrans like to say.” Crash said with a nod. “Yeah, I get what you mean. Best to keep this from blowing up and just nip it in the bud early on, or if it does blow up, contain it before any of the really important people get involved. Wouldn’t want an Inquisitor or two to show up, to say the least.”

“Agreed.” Makoto said with a nod.

“As do I.” Marjatta agreed in her turn.

“...I don’t know.” Sorgis thoughtfully said after a moment. “The Inquisitors Farhill aren’t that bad-looking, whether it’s the elder or younger sister…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you nuts?” Crash burst out, looking and sounding shocked. “Checking Inquisitors out? Sorgis, you need to cease and desist.”

“Hey, can’t help it.” Sorgis shot back. “The Farhill sisters are pretty good looking, and not just by Human standards, to say nothing of despite how old they are. And it’s not like propaganda offices don’t agree, considering they made the sisters the public faces for the Inquisition here in the Milky Way. Well, two of the faces at any rate…”

“Sorgis,” Crash said with a sigh. “Women are complicated enough as they are, add Force-sensitivity to the mix, and well…”

Makoto coughed. “Can we please focus on the issue at hand?” she dryly asked.

“Sorry, major.” Crash said, sitting back in his seat and turning back to the holoscreen.

“Likewise.” Sorgis said with an apologetic nod, and similarly looking back at the holoscreen.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“...and our prayers go out to the family of Mister Zhao.” the Hypnos Group Press Secretary said. “We will now be taking questions from the media.”

At that, the gathered journalists began clamoring for the secretary’s attention, the man picking one of them at random. “Mister Braddock,” the woman from CBN News began. “Isn’t it a little callous for Hypnos Group to place ultimate responsibility for Mister Zhao’s death squarely on his shoulders?”

“I would hardly think it callous at all.” the press secretary replied in apparent surprise. “It was Mister Zhao who chose to trespass on private property, and to disregard the dangers of bad weather while trying to escape, when our security personnel would have treated him with due courtesy.”

“So you’re saying that even if Mister Zhao was apprehended by Hypnos security,” the journalist pressed. “He’d have been released ASAP.”

“That would have been a matter with law enforcement.” the press secretary replied. “Again, Mister Zhao had apparently trespassed on corporate property, which is a crime, and thus obliging Hypnos security to turn him over to the Martian authorities. Anything further than that would be pure speculation.”

“No further questions.” the journalist said, and causing her peers to start clamoring for attention again. The press secretary looked over the crowd, and selected a man with an ID marking him as working for the Tharsis Times.

“Mister Braddock,” the man began. “While Hypnos has repeatedly and most recently assured the public that allegations of…scandalous, and possibly illegal activities at the corporate retreat in question are completely baseless, there was the other day’s altercation at Prism Technologies. Surely, Hypnos Group’s executives could be less confrontational when it comes to the press?”

“Ah, yes,” the press secretary said with a cough. “While the incident could certainly have been handled more diplomatically, it should be noted that the journalist in question had been rather accusatory towards Mister Roberts from Prism Technologies. As a senior executive of the company, Mister Roberts had an obligation not just to the company, but also to its employees to respond to said - and completely unfounded - allegations with due severity.”

“That may be so,” the man continued with a smile. “But it also seemed as though the journalist at the time had touched a nerve.”

“Well, yes,” the press secretary said, looking annoyed. “But again, I reiterate that he and the company had just been baselessly accused of…”

The man broke off as the large holoscreen behind him and the executives present began to flicker, shifting from the Hypnos logo to a blank display of pale blue light. Then letters began to be typed out on the display.

Knight-Captain Mayer, this is so disappointing.

The press exploded in murmurs at that, the title by which Hypnos’ President of the Board had been addressed belonging to the proscribed Templar Order. Even more so, as the man and his fellow executives visibly blanched at the sight of the words on the holoscreen, whether from horror at the truth revealed, or from shock at false accusations.

Do you really think people are so stupid, that they’d fall for such tired old deflections? Well, you’re a Templar, so you probably do. And it might even work, this is old hat for you, after all. We hate admitting it, but it’s true, your kind have plenty of experience in lying to people, and getting them to sell out while somehow thinking they’re getting the better end of the deal when in reality you’re already placing a collar around their necks.

But if you think we’ll just let you do as you please, well, you’re dead wrong.

Remember, Knight-Captain, and all your superiors as well: nothing is true, everything is permitted.

Then the screen flickered again, and to the even greater shock and horror of the Hypnos executives, names, numbers, and dates began to appear on the hologram. All individually-incriminating, whether for them, others both in and outside Hypnos Group, and for the companies making up the whole. But put together, exposed something greater and more terrible.

Orders were shouted, and corporate security tried to shut the holoscreen down, too late as might be. Controls refused to obey, and in the end, the holoscreen had to be directly disabled. Journalists shouted names and questions, but were ignored, all but manhandled by corporate security and out of the multipurpose hall, while others escorted the executives away.

And elsewhere, the powers-that-be took note, and handed down orders.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Fucking Templars.” Makoto swore in the silence of her own head. “Give me a Neo-Feddy any day, they’re at least straightforward in their delusions. Templars, though…”

Makoto sighed as an alarm jolted her out of her thoughts, and releasing her restraints, smoothed out her white ISB uniform top. All the while the dropship maneuvered into position, barely noticeable inside thanks to its inertial dampeners, before a side-door opened with a hiss of equalizing pressure.

Quickly getting up, Makoto deftly stepped towards and through the door, nimbly dropping down half a meter to land lightly on the ground. Loud thumps on the rockcrete echoed behind her as the rest of Team Nine - except Crash - landed, all in full combat gear which stood in stark contrast to Makoto in her officer’s uniform.

As they proceeded towards Sandiago ‘Sandy’ Mayer’s mansion, the dropship rose back up into the air, while the Martian policemen surrounding the property parted ways, and then fell into step behind them. “Less than twenty minutes after that farce of a press conference,” Makoto thought to herself, eyeing the other policemen guarding impounded speeders and groundcars. “And this bunch are already planning on running? That could be evidence of guilt in itself…still, they’ll have their day in court. Oh, what have we here?”

“Sandiago Mayer,” she addressed the man and his son standing at the front porch, briefly holding up a datapad and then reading it through. She’d already read it before, but while this meant her eidetic memory could recall it without issue, it looked more official to read it, and appearances, while potentially deceiving, had their place. “Brandon Mayer, you are both under arrest for multiple counts of credit embezzlement, tax evasion, falsification of official records, perjury, conspiracy to commit treason, membership in a terrorist organization, and on suspicion for attempting to evade arrest and obstruct justice.”

Pausing, Makoto lowered her dataslate and made sure to look the Templar in the eyes. The man stared back, cold and impassive, with neither fear nor hate or indeed, any emotion of any kind. “You have the right to remain silent,” Makoto continued as the Martians cuffed the man and his son. “You have the right to a fair trial in a court of law, and you have the right to a legal representative of your choice. If you cannot afford a legal representative of your own, then one will be provided for you. Take them away.”

The policemen escorted them away, Makoto glancing sideways up at the sky. Things had gone smoothly thus far, but that was the whole point: it was going smoothly. Maybe too smoothly, which was why in addition to Crash in his Dark Trooper armor back in their dropship, a full company of Sky Troopers were on standby to deploy in less than two minutes should there be any need for them to.

“Sweep the building.” Makoto ordered, more Martian policemen stepping past her along with most of Team Nine, Jochen and Oliver staying with her. “And get the forensic teams in here. Also, where are the rest of the Mayer family?”

“...we have them in custody.” the reply came via virtual communications. “They were heading back from a social event, and we got them en route to the family residence. We’re bringing them into protective custody as we speak.”

“Very good then.” Makoto said, looking up as a dropship slowly came down, and then dropped off more ISB personnel.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Well, looks like the Empire’s on the ball, as usual.”

“Hmm…so they are…” Samir agreed, the Mentor of the Martian Brotherhood of Assassins staring at the computer screens in Oleg and Yigun’s little lair. The two slicers weren’t Assassins themselves, but they were Friends of the Brotherhood, and used their skills to help the Brotherhood against the Templars and other such enemies of the people. And in turn, the Assassins grounded the slicers, keeping them from being just another pair of petty criminals. “...for the most part…”

That was directed at a major firefight at Hypnos’ security division’s camps, where attempts by Martian police to take control had been refused and had resulted in violence. The policemen had been all but overwhelmed, with only the arrival of Imperial Sky Troopers allowing for the containment of the Templars’ militants/mercenaries. The Sky Troopers had quickly established a perimeter, and beginning a siege, had held out until Martian Imperial Army units could tighten the noose.

The militants/mercenaries were still getting the life squeezed out of them, but aside from this incident things looked to be going well.

Too well, even.

“...you think the Templars still have cards left to play?” Anya asked.

“They are Templars.” Samir dryly replied. “What do you think?”

“Good point.” Anya admitted. “Still, we’ve dealt the Order a hard blow today, so we should follow through.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah…I’m thinking that given how thoroughly they’ve been exposed here,” Anya continued. “The Templars can’t really stop the Empire from rounding up their members on Mars, or at least the leading ones. But, they can silence them, either using what uncompromised elements they still have left on the planet, or by bringing in assets from other planets and systems, before they can reveal any secrets of the Martian Rite or other chapters of the Order.”

“You don’t think the Empire has predicted this,” Samir lightly asked. “Or they aren’t capable of dealing with it on their own?”

“I do think they have and can.” Anya replied with a shrug. “But I also think they could use a little help, and it certainly wouldn’t hurt to dig the knife even deeper into the Templars’ figurative guts.”

“True.” Samir admitted with a smile. “Very well, then. Contact our brothers and sisters. Considering how few of us there are, we can’t support the Empire everywhere, so let’s focus on the really important Templars. Make sure the Empire can squeeze them for what they know about the rest of the Order, as well as any other plans of theirs in motion, among other things.”

“I’ll get it done.” Anya said with a nod. “Will you be joining us, mentor?”

“What kind of mentor would I be if I did not?”

Anya smiled. “True.” she said, before heading off, and leaving Samir to watch the holograms along with Oleg and Yigun.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Makoto frowned as she read the datapad, and then sighing, handed it over to Crash. “...Mimas?” he asked. “Man, those guys are totally kriffed. Mimas…looks like the Inquisition’s going to take point going forward.”

“Overall?” Makoto replied. “Seems that way, although the ISB and Intelligence aren’t going to be completely shut out of operations going forward. More importantly for us, we’re going to be working with the Stormtroopers in making sure the prisoners get to Mimas safely for ‘debriefing’ pending their day in court.”

Crash snorted. “Debriefing…?” he echoed. “Understatement of the century, but then again, these are Templars, so it’s not as if they don’t deserve the Inquisition’s tender mercies. Anyway…from the sound of things, we pretty much grabbed the entire upper echelon of the Martian Rite of the Templar Order, along with a large part of the rank-and-file. But, we don’t really know how much is left, and they might bring in more of their own from off-world, enough to maybe spring their fellows out, or silence them.”

“Silencing them is safer,” Makoto remarked. “And fits more with Templar behavior in the past. We can’t let that happen, of course. We need to get the prisoners to Mimas, so the Inquisitors can squeeze them of everything they know, which we’re going to need to cut out the rest of their cancerous organization.”

“Will any Inquisitors be showing up?” Jochen asked.

“Doesn’t seem so…” Crash said while reading over their orders one more time. “...of course, knowing the Inquisition, I wouldn’t be surprised if an Inquisitor or two showed up out of the blue when things get heated.”

“It does make tactical sense.” Makoto pointed out. “That way, the Templars won’t see them coming, or even if they did, they can’t pinpoint when and where the Inquisitors will show up. And when they do…”

“...ouch time.” Marjatta softly said.

Makoto shrugged. “My sincerest condolences in advance then,” she mockingly said with a matching smile. “To any Templars who get on the wrong side of an Inquisitor.”

“Most unfortunate.” Crash said with faux-piety.

“Truly.” Marjatta chimed in.

“I completely agree.” Sorgis added his own opinion, the rest of the team doing likewise.

“In any case,” Max began with a cough. “I’m guessing the prisoners we’re in charge of secure transport will be the same ones we apprehended today.”

“So we are.” Makoto said, hitting the control panel on the room table, lighting up a holoprojector which showed two separate interrogation rooms. The elder and younger Mayer were sitting in each room, both alone at the moment while their attorneys dealt with legal and other issues, in particular regular and personal contact once they were secured at the Inquisitorial prison on Mimas.

“Have they said anything yet?” Crash asked.

“No.” Makoto said before tilting her head. “At least not without their lawyers, and yes, we’ve checked, as has Intelligence. The lawyers aren’t affiliated with the Templars, at least not outside of defending a pair of them, that is.”

“...well, transporting them will be a hassle,” Max said after a moment. “But it might also be an opportunity.”

“How so?” Crash asked, the rest of the team likewise turning to Max.

“Because,” Max replied. “If the Templars do try to silence them, it might also incentivize them to cooperate with us, for either a lighter sentence or protection from future retribution by the rest of the Order. Maybe even both.”

That caused a lot of shared looks between the rest of Team Nine, followed by a slow nod from Makoto. “...it could work…” she reluctantly admitted. “...but if they’re too committed, fanatical, even, to the Order’s cause, they might embrace it as a form of martyrdom instead. Still, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try…once they’re secure, of course.”

“A recommendation or suggestion to the Inquisitors?” Max asked.

“Yes.” Makoto said before hitting the control panel again, and bringing up a map of Tharsis, followed by a highlighted route towards Tharsis Grand Central Spaceport. “Now then, let’s get to the heart of the matter. Tomorrow, we’ll be tasked with overseeing prison transport to Mimas, with the goal of stopping attempts at liberating or silencing the prisoners. This is the route we’ll be taking, while your datapads should have the details of the planned operation. As of this moment, I open the table for any criticisms, observations, and suggestions for tomorrow, with the goal of maximizing our chance of success.”

Makoto paused, letting the rest of Team Nine sit down and access their datapads, before nodding. “Let us begin.” she said.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

Hello, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?

A bit slow, this chapter, but it’s building up for the next one, so I hope you can be patient. Will the Inquisition make an appearance? They might, I suppose…

…now, I assume some of you are wondering who and what the ‘Sky Troopers’ are. Some of you might even think they’re based on the Skytroopers from SWTOR, but no. Sky Troopers are - in Legends, at least - actually specialist Stormtroopers. They’re also called Imperial Jump Troopers, basically Stormtroopers equipped with jetpacks and specially-trained for airborne operations.

 

[ATP]

Necromancy !
Jokes aside - Templars were idiots,and paid for that.They should never made and grand ceremonies,certainly not in their main buildings.Meet in small groups in desolate places,with one person knowing only 3-4 others.

Well,only question now is how many of them would suvivie till meeting with Inquisition.

I hope,that poor Sorgis would get attantion of cute Farhill sisters here - he deserved some love,RIGHT?


P.S Sad thing is,if your Empire come to Earth,i would fight for them against current goverments,including our/polish/.
Maybe they are all alien agents preparing invasion?