Fozz looked over his prisoner. The man was thin and showed signs of long-term stress and malnourishment, but was also conspicuously clean. He wore a uniform for a local cobalt mining company that was too new to have ever been used. He showed signs of recent healing, and shied away from looking in DenWu’s general direction - but notably didn't show signs of mental manipulation. Fozz made a note in his file. CCEIC's intelligence suggested that workers coming out of DenWu's 'lower mines' were subjected to a 'free reintegration program' before they were let loose - a flimsy cover for DenWu's people to complete days or even weeks of mental and magical manipulation in order to keep his secrets. That they hadn't attempted the same with Thad meant they either lacked time, or assumed their other leverage would be enough on its own. Maybe a combination of both.

  The representative’s tone was downright gleeful.

  “We’re so happy we were able to help you find this fugitive, Enforcer Hoimchal. The DenWu conglomerate is a large organization, and it seems we will be doing more training to our management team about performing thorough background checks. We have also identified some office workers with ties to your fugitive, and they have been turned over to local authorities. We have let them know you may stop by to interrogate those individuals about their falsified shipping and scrap records. It has been our pleasure to assist you in your investigation.”

  She gave him a curt bow, and made to leave with DenWu. They froze at the sound of Fozz’s voice.

  “Wait – I need you both to remain in this building until I complete my preliminary interview with Mr. Wheatnick. I may require you for additional questioning.”

  The woman touched her hair, then nodded. “Of course.”

  Back alone with his suspect in the meeting room, Fozz did as much as he could to put the man at ease before he started questioning, but it had little effect. Thadden’s answers were short and formal refusals to admit to anything, save for the fact that he'd made a charged jump. He was attempting to seem calm, but his leg twitched under the table.

  Fozz went through his standard questions twice, asked in different ways, before following his deductions and acting on the rest of what he'd received from the intelligence center. It had been a busy and request-filled afternoon. One that had given Fozz all the tools he predicted he'd need to drive this investigation to completion.

  “You have not been psychologically altered prior to this interview.”

  “No.”

  Fozz held up a hand. “That was not a question. Since you are not altered, you are either answering under duress, or you have decided to willingly lie to a CCE - in addition to being complicit in other crimes perpetuated by Mr. DenWu’s organization.”

  Thad squirmed for the first time in their meeting, shooting glances around the room. His leg had stopped twitching, but he was wringing his hands together now, and grinding his teeth.

  “Thank you. So, you are under duress.”

  “I’m not! I never said that!” Thadden looked back and forth between two specific spots on the walls. “I didn’t say anything!”

  Fozz smiled. “Mr. Wheatnick, a CCE is not so easily recorded without their consent. That goes double for decorated officers.” He brushed a hand meaningfully over the identification plate on his chest and leaned forward. “Your concern for your aunt and cousins is admirable, but I have assurances to their safety. They were already removed from the custody of one of Mr. DenWu’s… business partners. Their condition is fine, and they remain under CCE command protection, pending the outcomes of this investigation.”

  The man paled, then seemed to reevaluate Fozz for a few seconds. He sighed and put his head on the table.

  “Fractin Croc, start with that next time.”

  “I would appreciate it if you could refrain from the insults, Mr. Wheatnick. Now, your dealings were with Mr. DenWu, and you were transporting cargo for him. Is that correct?”

  Fozz waited as the man leaned back and raised his head again. “Yes.”

  "What was the nature of your cargo?"

  Thad ground his teeth and stared at the ceiling. His mouth was set in a firm line. This was his break point. Everyone had one - that moment where being truthful would require you to continue down a set path. It was the single bit of information that would open the floodgates to the rest. Fozz resisted the urge to play with a piercing, and instead stood and turned away from the man.

  "Mr. Wheatnick, we can call the interview here. I could take you in for the charged jump alone, and release your family members from their protective hold. However, I'd prefer us to have a different conversation." He turned, and spun his chair around so he could sit backwards in it - then nearly smiled when he saw Thad's reaction. The 'move' was one he'd learned from a trainer long ago. It created a sense of informality and calm within the conversation, while punctuating the point and making most people feel like they'd turned a corner and couldn't go back to being clammed up. The move worked most of the time, in Fozz's experience.

  "I'd like to discuss your relationship with Mr. DenWu - and then I'd like to help you. Your sentencing would reflect the nature of our conversation. If we have a fulfilling chat, I am ready to enter you and your family into the protected identity program." Thad's eyes went wide - and Fozz knew he had the man hooked. Reeling him in just required Fozz to keep him engaged. "This time in a cycle, we usually have enough spaces open to give program members their pick of sectors and professions - that means you might even be able to choose where you end up and what you would be doing. So, what cargo were you carrying?"

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  Thad's eyes were full of excited consideration. Fozz readied himself to turn the chair back around if he saw refusal - but Thad jumped into the opportunity.

  "I want to see the agreement - give me immunity. Or give me something close enough that it won't matter that it's not full immunity. And I want to see it written out before I say anything else."

  Fozz had him. "The request is prepped and ready to send-" He made the projection display on his arm light up, and the light from the PIdP request glinted off Thad's eyes. "As soon as I hear something that will warrant it."

  He let Thad take the time to read through the request. When he was done, the man crossed his arms and smiled.

  "I was carrying a bay full of step-down equipment."

  Fozz swallowed, then hit four buttons. The first clipped the last statement and turned it into a file. The second attached the file to the request. The third elevated the request to critical status, and the last sent it directly to his MSS and the chair of the PIdP program. Fozz let silence stretch as he waited for a response.

  The claim made sense, and Thad had no reason to lie. To Walt's 0-4 targeting systems, step-downs would've had the same errant energy signatures as an engine prepping a charged jump. The slagged remains of the cargo were impossible to identify - but that sort of uninterpretable mess made sense if Thad was right about what cargo had exploded.

  A step-down was one step away from a bomb, and two steps away from insidiously disguised technology. They were made by taking a skilled crafter, then having them create a product so flawed, it ended up rated a grade lower than it should've been. Making a G grade device from F grade materials put the lower-grade finished product under more stress than it was possible to safely contain. No matter what, those creations were highly volatile and in a constant state of fluctuating energy that made them prone to explode or go haywire before fizzling out.

  If one was able to make the whole product sturdy enough, a step-down could last for a longer time - weeks, even. The only way to stop the things from catastrophically failing was to have another skilled crafter repair or fix them - without setting off an explosion. Fozz's mind turned the information. Vuxarina. Step-downs. The final secret Thad was hiding. It added up.

  There were limited reasons why someone might want to have artificially grade-lowered tech, and the main one was to sneak powerful weaponry onto newly awakened planets. The system would rebuff something in F grade, but if a G-grade power suit was sent to the surface it would get through fine.

  If the step-down was made consistently enough, one could catalogue the issues and make instructions on how to resolve the issues. Then, a crafter at the peak of G grade could very carefully 'fix' whatever intentional flaws were put into the power suit, and render it back to a stable F grade item. That required people on both ends - and those transporting the things - to not get blown up in the process. But if it worked, outside forces could enter a planet like Vuxarina, give themselves F grade armor and weaponry, then take over areas or force out locals.

  It took only 110 seconds for the approval to come back on the PIdP, but it felt like an eternity. This case had become something truly deep, and Fozz was full of questions. He opened the approved document, and let Thad read it before he started in again.

  "Who produced the items?"

  Thad took a deep breath, then looked Fozz in the eye.

  "Can't believe I'm gonna sing for a Croc. It was Belar Trade Corporation. Picked it up from one of their old warehouses. One of those 'supposedly decommissioned' joints. I didn't meet with anybody there, just a pickup."

  "Did you know what you were transporting?"

  Thad scratched his ear. "I only knew it was supposed to be volatile, at first. I always take a peek before loading, so I saw what was in there."

  "DenWu told you it was volatile?"

  "One of his guys did, yeah. He told me to land where I did here, too. Shitty mechanic gave my ship a wiring problem, and some unfortunate things happened. Then the bastard took me prisoner on landing, and he killed my ship."

  Fozz raised an eyebrow. "A wiring problem?"

  Thad frowned. "Does that agreement cover other things I might've done - or had on the ship that were illegal?" Fozz nodded. "Then the stupid little shit swapped my controls for the cargo bay and a few countermeasures I kept for emergencies."

  Fozz didn't blink. The cargo was dumped by accident, which meant the landing pad was the result of countermeasures going off. "My records indicate your mechanic was not on the Wheathop at the time of the incidents."

  Thad waved a hand. "That's right, broken leg. I bought a kid to come onboard."

  "What was his name?"

  "How the fract should I know? His name was kid."

  Fozz frowned. "Why did you stop at Earth?"

  Thad crossed his arms. "I crashed. Because of the kid. You know, that little shit ended up costing me my ship - he should repay me for it."

  Fozz resisted the urge to tell Thad that the 'kid' was probably entitled to whatever was left of the Wheathop, instead of the other way around. Indentured servants and slaves typically received first options when it came to renumeration. It was a good way to keep things fair. But Thad was already starting to bristle, and he needed the conversation to stay focused.

  "Why did you enter the restricted zone?"

  The criminal leaned forward. "I didn't - it was probably that naked beatnik."

  Fozz paused. The person that had defaced the heritage site was no longer the primary focus of the investigation, but he still wanted to understand how and why the act happened. "What was this person's name?"

  Thad blinked an empty, unamused stare. Fozz resisted the urge to sigh.

  "Could you describe him, then?"

  Thad bit the inside of his cheek. "He looked kinda like you, but different shade. Smooth skin, big muscles, those weird flat and wrinkly ears. But fuck him, and good riddance. Hope he rots."

  Fozz paused. "So this person is... dead?"

  Thad shrugged. "I hope so."

  Fozz made a note, and forced himself forward with his questioning.

  He couldn't derail the interview for personal reasons, no matter how much he might want to. If there was a story to be told about the heritage site, he could learn more about it after the current problems were dealt with. He'd received the confirmation that BTC was involved in more than one way - and that was a major issue. His priority messages had been going out continuously as he recorded, typed, and sent them off even as he held the conversation.

  "Back to the points at hand - you met Mr. DenWu when you landed, in person?"

  "Yes. He tortured me, then had one of those healer cult bitches keep me awake."

  Fozz made another note and request. It wouldn't be the first time the Order of the Green Light had a 'bad apple' found in their bunch. "We'll find the healer. Can you confirm that Mr. DenWu was angry with you because he knew the cargo you were supposed to have, and was upset that it had been lost?"

  "That's how it played out. He didn't break my legs four times because I forgot a few crates of milk." Thad swallowed. "Can I get something to drink? I want to take a break, maybe look over the details of some of those protection program options you were talking about, see what fits my needs."

  Fozz nodded once and rose, then opened the door. One of DenWu's employees waited nearby, and hurriedly fetched him water. He had enough on the cargo for right now - which meant Fozz could start diving into the second most interesting thing Thad had been hiding.

  "Here's your drink - but you'll need to wait on reviewing program options until the first round of questioning is completed."

  Thad chugged down two glasses of liquid, rapidly. Fozz waited until he was finished.

  "Now, Mr. Wheatnick - please explain how you ended up with three unprocessed mana crystals in your stomach.”

  Character Cheat Sheet: