Silver Reign

Two: Flawed Logic

//Report: Quinn, Jackson 
//Rome.
//Inside an Axion factory.
//Designation: Capitoline Facility.
//Resume log.

The hallway smelled of oil and chemical cleaner. The acrid aroma burned my nose as we ran, boots squeaking against the steel floor. The interior hallway of the Capitoline Facility was cold and dimly lit, a hexagonal passageway lined with dark steel and only a few eerie orange lights for decoration. Beyond this hall was the factory floor—their goal.

Amani and I moved quickly and quietly, but I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being pursued. We knew almost nothing about the layout of the underground factory, were completely unarmed and had no disguises of any kind.

Despite this, I was grateful that the guards were busy dealing with the riots on the surface—if I listened closely, I could still hear the dull roar of the crowds on the surface far above.

The giant door hadn't been a problem—only the soldiers guarding it. At Darius's behest, we had selected an entrance on the opposite side of the city, as far away from the riots as possible. Compared to the heavily guarded main entrance, surveillance had been lax. 

Passing through the unguarded door had been surprisingly easy—Darius's facial scan and fingerprints were registered in Axion's database, allowing him to open the door.

Fortunately, neither of the guards who'd arrived to greet their visitors at the entrance had expected the Director of Axion Industries to march up to them and demand their assistance. Official reports were unclear as to Blackwell's fate, so the ruse would hold, if temporarily.

With the guards distracted and the door already open, slipping past them had been easy. Once we reached the factory floor, we would be able to steal the components needed to repair the dropship. 

“Where to, Darius?” I asked.

There was a painstaking pause before I received a response. Darius sounded cautious, subdued.

“Find a door labeled Sector Three,” he informed us. “That’s the assembly line. If you can't find the item you need laying around on the factory floor, you'll need to keep an eye out for a computer—any will do. They all have access to the factory’s component database. If you can find that, we’ll be able to use it to locate the part that your pilot needs.”

I picked up the pace, marching briskly down the hall with Amani in tow. Both of us were on high alert, ready to deal with any guards that emerged from the adjacent doorways, but none came. We passed a door with white block lettering etched across its surface. 

Sector One.

“Just passed Sector One,” Amani breathed. A nervous smile spread across her face. “I think we're on the right track.”

“Good,” Blackwell responded. His voice was a whisper now. “Keep going.”

We passed another door. 

Sector Two. 

“Darius,” I inquired, feeling a surge of panic, “why are you whispering? Are you still outside with the guards?”

There was a painstakingly long silence.

“No. I'm inside the facility as well.”

“You're where?” Amani hissed. “That's the opposite of a diversion!”

“I didn't want to! They forced me into an office and left me here,” Darius responded. “If I'm right, it belongs to—” He gasped, and the comm beeped. “Cassius!” Darius cried, his voice at once rising dramatically. “So good to see you again, my friend. I hope my surprise visit hasn't hindered your riot control operation.”