Chapter 2 - Ruins of better days

Elan was about to put his laser rifle down so that he could get to work on the scanner with his metatool. But, by the time he's turned around - sacré bleu! - Taelor is already at it.

He watches approvingly over her shoulder, both for her spiritual kinship as a picklock but also to admire her handiwork. Her movements are tight and precise and his reaction is halfway between admiration and envy.

The door slides open and Elan doesn't know how to applaud her without making an undue amount of noise. He gives her a soft slap on the shoulder to signal his congratulations. Then he retrieves his laser rifle and prepares to slip through the open doorway.

_{"I'll take point,"} he whispers. _{"Same as before. I'd suggest staying back here where there's some cover from the doorway."}

Pending any objections, he gets ready to move forward into the hallway.

Taelor grins under her atmofilter mask, proud of her handiwork and happy to have it acknowledged. Sneaking through dark corridors might not be her specialty, but she knew her way around a circuit board.

The feeling is short-lived, however. The telltale sound of drones echo in the hallway before them. Though they don't sound like they're getting closer, it means her and her comrades might find themselves in another fight soon enough.

She nods at Elan in agreement and takes up position just to the side of the open doorway, ready to give him covering fire if needed.

Elan slowly walks down the hall towards the staircase. When reaching the first doors on either sides of the hallway he first listens on the door and when everything is silent he opens it carefully. It creaks a bit and opens to a fairly big room with old shelves filled with folders. The writing on the folders is bleached out and when pulling out one, only the hard cover stays intact, the content just spills out. Shelf over shelf filled with the diligent output of half an army of bureaucrats. Elan can't help but shudder in discomfort and turns around only to find the same picture across the hall.
Leaving the doors open he continues towards the next doors. The signs on the doors already give an indication of what he might find and indeed the rooms are clad in ceramic tiles opening to a row of sinks and a wall with an opening to a separee with the sanctuaries of busy office life.
Ahead is one more set of doors and the staircase.
He peeks into the first door, finding a small room, with some tables and chairs and a food printer, on the other side the room, again about the same size, contains some sort of machines with trays on both sides and packs of what used to be actual paper. Just as he wants to step out again, he notices the dreaded sound of drones coming closer. It is coming from direction of the staircase.

Elan again regrets the lack of a shared sign language. He turns to the group, hoping they have eyes on him, and makes some pointed gestures that he hopes they interpret as "hide".

He steps back into the room with the food printer. If he had to open the door to enter the room, he'll close it. If he didn't have to open the door, he'll leave it open. He wants to leave it the way it was when he got there.

Then he takes cover, using the chairs, tables, and food printer the best he's able to provide some protection and concealment while still being able to keep an eye on the doorway. The doorway will be a choke point if anything tries to come through.

<<hide>> he texts to the group before readying his laser rifle.

He's not sure what to expect. Can the bots even handle the staircase? If so, are they specifically responding to his location or are they just on patrol? In the meantime, no need to overreact. Maybe they'll pass by. Maybe they'll find the others, in which case Elan can flank them. Maybe they'll find Elan, in which case the others can flank them.

This is fine, Elan thinks, having been in similar situations plenty of times before.

In the distance, Graham sees Elan motioning, then ducking into a room.
"Get cover, quick!" he urges, thinking that Elan wouldn't have motioned just to let them know he needed the restroom.
Staying low, Graham darts into the nearest door in the hallway, and holds it open for Taelor and Statton to scoot inside.

Statton rushes to follow Graham, ducking behind him.

Taelor crosses into the government building hallway and quickly looks to see if she can shut the metal door behind her. She then darts into the room with Graham and Statton, taking up position near the door.

Elan's senses did not fool him. It takes only moments until two drones roll by up the hallway. Their humming and beep beep is unmistakable. The drones roll up to the end of the hallway, stop for a moment turn around and roll off again. It's impossible to tell whether they came on a patrol or for a specific reason. And it's as impossible to tell whether they detected something or turned around satisfied.

With Statton and Taelor safely in the room, Graham listens at the door for the approach of drones. Satisfied that none seem to be coming down the hall, he looks at the ceiling, and looks for something sturdy to stand on.
"Let's see if we can find the network cables, they may lead us back to the server room. Won't take more than 2 minutes to get a peek, if we can find something sturdy to stand on."
He taps a message to Elan, "Sit tight, going to see if I can find where the network cables are going in the ceiling."

Once the drones rolled off again, Graham springs to action. He climbs onto one of the shelves in order to lift up the ceiling panels above. The shelf sways dangerously and its boards bend to a point where they almost snap. But only almost. Reaching the ceiling, Graham pushes open one of the panels and the expected hollow space becomes visible that is home to all that is not supposed to be seen. He stands up on the top board of the shelf, his head disappearing in the ceiling. After lighting the dark space above he spots a chunk of cables disappearing in the distance. He memorises the direction and carefully climbs back down. Looking once more up to the ceiling and then orienting himself he decides the cables lead towards the direction of the staircase.

"The cables are running straight towards the staircase, but where they go after that, I don't know."
He taps a similar message to Elan, and adds. "To the staircase?"
He hates to leave behind a room full of information, hints and clues, but this isn't really where he wants to spend his time right now. Get the job done, and we'll have the time to find what we want.

Elan isn't sure why he has to sit tight but maybe Graham can see something that he doesn't.

Then Graham provides the update that the cables run toward the staircase.

<<Let me go up first>> he types back. <<Cover the lanes of retreat while I scout ahead.>>

Elan is very big on avenues of escape.

Graham's mind races, troubled by bits and pieces of information he's read and heard.
"Why don't you keep me company down here", said Cerebrus back in the terminal. "Down here.....down here..." In Graham's experience with electronic personalities, figurative speech isn't their specialty. They're too literal, they're very specific in their language.
"Statton, I'm starting to think that upstairs may not be the way. Do you remember when Cerebrus said "Why don't you keep me company down here?"
He gives Statton a steady look, hoping for an answer other than a shrug.

"Y-yes, you are right. And in the archives we read that Cerebrus was to be deployed in the basements. Down makes sense then."

Taelor is standing near the door, keeping an eye on the hallway. "Alright, down we go. Elan first, then you two, and I'll bring up the rear?"

Elan silently slips out of the room towards the staircase. He looks up and when he sees no motion, he disappears towards the basements.
Like a shadow he moves one foot before the other without making any sounds. The buzzing of drones is omnipresent and every fiber of his body is tensed. If the darn lights were off it would be easier to hide. Provided the drones don't have infrared vision. Maybe the lights are actually more of an equalizer than a hindrance.
When Elan reaches the foot of the stairs he sees one patrol of drones just disappear around the corner, they will likely not be long until they return. Just like the floor above, there are two doors right in the beginning of the hallway and two after that. Further down the hallway there are only two more doors both on the right side of the hallway.

Graham makes his move out the door, takes a quick glance down the hallway, then moves quickly toward the stairs. He would have loved an opportunity to check the direction of the network cables, but Elan is already down the stairs. The whirring of the drones is a constant reminder to keep a small profile, and that two guns are better than one. He checks the stirs going up for activity, then takes the plunge down the steps.
"Quietly, stupid, don't get in a rush" he thinks to himself, and tiptoes down the stairs.

The lights are on. This makes Elan feel a bit exposed, naked even, but there are advantages to it. For starters, he doesn't need to wear his low-light goggles, which are a bit cumbersome. That means he can keep his metatool at the ready, which is convenient. Second, it means that the rest of the team isn't blind. He prefers backup that can see, and bots rarely care about darkness anyway.

Then, as with many things, the order of operations is Slow... slow... fastfastfast! Hearing Graham tiptoe down the stairs behind him, he gestures toward the communal room on the right, indicating that it might be a good spot to hide. (Or, at least, better than standing in the middle of the stairway.) Then Elan flits across the floor like a ninja, doing his best to move quickly and silently. The goal is to move as fast as possible without making noise, or at least to keep things quiet enough so that he can hear the whir of approaching drones.

First he's off to the door on the other door that's cracked open for a quick peek. The goal here is to look for hiding spots and to make sure that he isn't about to get flanked by a room full of angry bots. Then, provided that there's still enough time, it's off to the other doors. If they're locked he'll leave them locked for the moment. Right now he's looking for low-hanging fruit, moving deliberately and systematically down the hallway.

Statton and Taelor follow Graham down the stairs, doing their best to move quietly.

At the bottom, Taelor takes up position next to the doorway, using the wall for cover and keeping an eye on the hallway. They're in the belly of the beast now, the smallest misstep could bring security swarming. She takes long, deep breaths, steadying her nerves, then looks at Statton.

His eyes are wide with fear as he stares down the corridor. Taelor tries to give him a reassuring smile, but then remembers the atmofilter is obscuring the bottom half of her face. She reaches out to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He freezes, then his head swivels to look at her. She sees a bit of tension leave his face and he nods at her. He's putting on a brave face, but sometimes that's enough.

She turns back to the hallway, looking out for trouble as Elan scouts ahead.

Elan slips over to the door across the hallway. A quick peek inside reveals it to be a generously sized broom cabinet. It contains shelves on both sides of the small room, filled with ancient cleaning supplies. After the peek, Elan turns around and stops for a moment in perfect silence listening to the sounds around him. No sound of approaching drones... yet. With a few large silent strides he crosses the hallway again and tries the next door. It's unlocked. As soon as he opens it a crack the noise increases. Risking a peak through the tiny crack he glances at the source of the noise. What he sees he did not expect.
Right behind the door is a narrow walk way with solid floor, but only a fence as banister. Behind the walk way is a warehouse sized room, two or three stories tall and stretching the length of the hallway, a good 30-40m. Elan stands up a bit to get a better angle to see what is below.
On the floor of the hall are various large machines, working tirelessly on something. Big white boxes, with LEDs blinking aggressively produce containers filled with a grey liquidy substance.
A large group of various kinds of drones whirr about around the machines. Towards the end of the room, Elan can see several racks of computers, connected with a jungle of cables and a large screen showing scrolling numbers.
The walk way seems to be empty from what Elan can glimpse.

Thelonius wrote:

The terminal is finally up. It's like the jackpot. A simple search screen with a building full of data behind it.
His hands trembling, Graham starts working. Looking up Cerebrus he finds a lot of information about the originally initiative. Cerebrus was going to be a central unit, based in the basements of the government tower and tasked to answer questions and requests of the citizens. The jewel of the system was its neural network that was designed to recognise patterns and connect data, essentially learning new things from the data it gathered. It was a big success, until there seemed to be something malfunctioning. More and more often Cerebrus would not answer any more and when he did, often gave condescending remarks.
Another headline catches Statton interest. There seemed to have been a fair amount of research done on the topic of nanites. Especially for medicinal use. But the article stays vague and no more information can be found on the topic.

Elan studies what he sees for a moment, trying to make sense of it all. Graham and Statton had mentioned that Cerebrus was designed to be in the basement of the government tower. There was a mention of nanites as well, and the grey liquidy substance certainly seems like it would match that description. Elan isn't a scientist but he can (sometimes) put two and two together.

The noise of the machines is a double-edge sword: it means there's cover for any noise Elan might make, but it also means that Elan can't hear as well, like when it comes to patrolling drones out in the hallway.

Making sure the door is closed behind him (lest patrolling drones see that it is open), he slings his laser rifle over his shoulder and gets out his compad. He hopes that the compad-to-compad connection is strong enough to reach Graham, Statton, and Taelor.

<<found something>> he texts with some attached images, before trying to get a video feed going.

He tries to narrate the video with additional texts: <<up on a catwalk, racks of computers on the far end of the room>>

<<come if convenient>>

<<if inconvenient, come all the same>>

Graham's eyes grow wide a he sees Elan's pictures on the compad. Hw smiles, and holds his compad up for Taelor and Statton to see.
"Elan found something big."
He takes a moment to listen at the door, and readies his laser pistol.
"Sounds quiet. Ready?"
Without waiting, he eases the door open, peers quickly into the hallway, then heads out. He feels a little clumsy, wondering if he looks like one of the old animations, where the would-be burglars go through their exaggerated tippy-toed sneaking motions.
He heads across and down the hall to the next door and enters, hoping to find Elan.

Graham slips across the hall, through the door and finds himself next to a crouched Elan on the catwalk from the photo. Down on the floor drones are busy with whatever the hell they are doing.
The computer that likely houses Cerebrus towers at the head of the hall. Several closet-sized boxes with lots of lights.
Graham crouches next to Elan and pulls out his binoculars. He scans the computer thoroughly and can make out a label in blue formerly modern writing "Cerebrus" with a logo depicting what could be a hand.
A thick cord of cables runs out of it, snakes around on the floor and disappears in the floor.
One of the boxes is labeled UPS and shows a row of green LEDs.

Graham put away his binoculars in exchange for his compad, satisfied with what he's seen.
He sums up the details in a text message:
"Cerebrus server 30 meters down. Several drones, some of which are security. Power cables pass through floor, so we need a way to get 30m down without being seen. Need to remove power AND battery back-up. Stay put, Elan and I are coming back."

Elan tries to bend Graham's ear before he slips away.

"Coverage is tight down there," he tries to whisper over the background din. "I'm pretty sure I can slip through but I don't know about the rest of you. Can this be done by one person? If so, can you talk me through what I need to do?"

Graham nods slowly, but he seems to have doubts.
"I think you could pull it off, but if you're spotted, all our options disappear very quickly. I think we have some other options we should discuss, but not here. Too many eyes. Back to the closet for a few minutes, ok? We may end up going with that plan, but with a diversion, we can give you some better odds."
Graham heads slowly back to the door of the catwalk, before realizing there's no way he could hear the drones in the hallway over the noise below.
He types on his compad:
"Hard to hear from here. If the hallway sounds clear, type 'go', if it sounds like drones are close, type 'stop'"

Elan nods to Graham and stacks up behind him, waiting for the green light to go through the door.

'Go' pops up on Graham's compad, and he gives a quick thumbs-up to Elan. In a crouch, he opens the door slowly, peeks out, and heads across the hall to the closet. He pops open the door and enters, looking behind him to make sure Elan is there to close it again.
His grin is wide as he whispers to Taelor and Statton, "I think we've found the electronic bastard."

Elan goes over the video and photos they took. He lets Graham point out the more technical details that he noticed. Then Elan looks up.

"What's the best way to pull the plug?" he asks his technically-minded teammates.

Tecumseh wrote:

"What's the best way to pull the plug?"

Graham smiles at the thought, "'Best' is a little subjective. The easiest, assuming that there's no other backup waiting to kick in, is to blast the Cerebrus server and its battery backup simultaneously. If there's no other backup, that should stop Cerebrus and security drone activity. If. On the other hand, if 'best' means to extract the most from the current situation, then we need to take down the Cerebrus server without destroying it."
He takes a deep breath, gives his mustache a slow twist, and continues, "This facility is a goldmine. An AI of Cerebrus caliber is potentially worth hundreds of thousands of credits, maybe millions to the right buyer. The data contained on that server could be worth even more. That data contains the secrets to that nanite technology those drones are working on. That data contains the location of every valuable asset still left in the starport. Shoot, the value of those drones on the production floor alone would be worth 30k intact. To do this, we'd have to get below the production floor, pull the main plug, and disable the battery backup. So I guess 'best' depends on what we want to get out of this little adventure."
Graham looks at his companions, trying to gauge their reaction to the possibilities presented.

"Really?" Elan asks, clearly skeptical. "You think there's value in a malfunctioning VI?"

Elan is clearly more used to tangible valuables, like art and jewelry and other portable property.

"It seems like a big risk for an uncertain payoff," he continues. "My primary goal is getting the Tsunami unlocked so that we don't have to walk home. Secondary goal is to grab a zombie or two for Statton."

Wait, is Elan advocating for the less-bold course of action?

He looks to Taelor to get her input.

Taelor takes her time looking at the photos and videos while Elan and Graham chat, zooming in and tracing connections. After a while, the boys grow silent. Taelor looks up to see their expectant stares.

"Uh..." Taelor pauses and clears her throat. "Well, thankfully, whoever built this thing clearly labelled the UPS... that's the backup battery," she explains when she sees the questioning look on her colleagues' faces.

She looks back down at the footage. "Looks like it's directly connected to the rest of the computer... it'd be hard to disconnect, so we'd need to wreck it at around the same time we cut the main power supply if we want to shut the fucker off. It looks like a pretty standard chemical battery, so shooting it up would do the trick, but we'll have to be careful around the leaks."

She looks back up at the others and grins. "Or we can just light up the whole thing and fuck him up."

She chuckles, then sighs, her grin fading into a more serious expression. "Either way, I don't love the idea of selling anyone a crazy VI. I think the drones would be a good enough bonus."

"We're in full agreement about the UPS, that's a good thing. We definitely need to take it out. I'm not convinced that Cerebrus is broken. We don't know if the situation on the planet left Cerebrus to its own devices to carry out its programming, or if its programming is what created the trouble in the first place. In either case, it's programming, and programming can be corrected. As the planet gets back on its feet, both its programming and its stored information could be invaluable."
Graham pauses a moment in thought, then adds "Frankly, we could alter its programming to defend the spaceport in the name of its new owners, 'Tsunami, Inc'."
He chuckles shortly.
"As this planet is reclaimed, there's going to be a land grab. We have a leg up if we want it, and this spaceport, although ugly, is essentially functional. As a facility, it has substantial commercial value, even in its current state. We don't have to run it, just have enough of a claim to sell that claim to the highest bidder. Cerebrus can hold the claim for us, and we can set up a corporation to hold it, legally, once we get back from our mission. Potentially, it makes our 11k payday look like chump change."
He gives everyone a look, and says, "What do you think -- is it worth it?"

Elan blinks at Graham's speech. On the one hand, he likes that Graham is thinking B-I-G. On the other hand, it seems unrealistic.

"Who were the prior owners?" he asks. "How do we know that they don't have existing legal claims to the property?

"Or say that we get incorporated and make a claim. Do we have the start-up capital to enforce it? Why wouldn't some corporation come along and just push us aside, either with private security contractors or flesh-eating lawyers? I'm not sure this planet has enough rule of law to enforce any legal rights we might have.

"I like the big thinking, I do. If that's our play then I'll back it." He glances to Taelor (then Statton as an afterthought). "But I'd prefer the low-hanging fruit. Let's blow it up and sift what's valuable out of the rubble."

Graham nods at Elan.
"Prior owners are 150 years gone. If there was ever a statute of limitations, it has expired, most likely. And as far as start-up capital goes, it's very cheap to start a corporation. Anyone can do it, and with an attorney, we can get it done in an afternoon."
A broad grin grows on Graham's face, and his eyes seem to sparkle in the low light of the janitor closet.
"The first corporation to come in will find an armed security contingent controlled by Cerebrus 2.0, and if they try to clear the way, we will have legal standing to shut them out. But that's the corporation our lawyer will enter talks with, and if the corporation wants to buy us out, they're welcome to do so. Otherwise, we'll bring suit for the damages they've caused to our claim. Being first has its advantages."
He gives it a moment to let it settle in.
"Now, on the flip-side, the 'low-hanging fruit' side. We can take up positions on the catwalk, and attempt an execution attack against two targets, Cerebrus and the UPS. If it fails, we are stuck on a catwalk, our position given away, and we will be surrounded -- taking fire from both flanks and from below. We tried simultaneous executions on security drones, and it failed. I, myself, successfully executed a potted plant." Graham grins and shakes his head at the not-so-fond memory. "So that may not be our best approach, even though it might end the fight quickly. If we miss, we lose big."

Taelor shifts from foot to foot. Property law wasn't really in her wheelhouse, but... the bigger the payday, the closer she'd be to getting her own ship. She looked at the door then back at the others.

"I say we cut off his power and wreck his UPS. It gives us options and lets us have the rest of this conversation at our leisure. The longer we linger here, the more likely it is his drones find us."

"And if things go south, then we blast the fucker."

"Alright," Elan says with (false?) bravado. "Tell me what we need to push, pull, cut, or connect."

Relieved that Elan and Taelor seem to be on board, Graham floats a plan.
"First, we'll need to get in position, and that means heading down about 30 meters to get under the production room floor. Those server power cables went into the floor, and that means there's probably some space underneath. Cookie cutter government buildings like this tend to have similar floorplans floor by floor, so there may be another small room directly below this one, and I think we have enough rope to get us 40 meters. That's plenty. Unfortunately, I think we're on the wrong end of the room, and we may have to go around the production room in the lower hallway. This is where our diversion may need to come in."
He starts looking at the construction of the janitor closet. Often, there are drains and drainpipes for filling mop buckets and such, so removing the basin could expose the space underneath.
Not finding anything of the sort, Graham turns his attention to the ceiling and any ductwork that might lead out of this room.
We might be in luck", he says, as he pries the cover off a vent and peers inside. This won't be comfortable, he thinks to himself, but it might be worth it.
"Somebody give me a boost", he says to no one in particular, and works his way into the vent.

Taelor helps the others up and into the vent. "I'll stay here and prep the distraction. Message me when you're in position. I'll start the timer and get into position to snipe the UPS."

"Hang on, I have something that could be useful. Let's shape this instapanel so you can take some cover in here. If you hear drones opening the door, it might help if they don't see a human figure. We can shape it to include a gun port and a peephole. If the drone's weapon comes out, at least you can get the first shot."
Hauling the instapanel out of his backpack, Graham reaches for an A-cell and inserts it into the material. The greyish-green material seems to shimmer momentarily, and feeling a slight vibration, Graham sinks his fingers into the panel. Moments later, there are two holes in it. He shapes one to include a lip, so Taelor can steady her gun barrel on it, then goes to work, giving it a bend along the center.
"There, I think you can get behind this, one edge along the floor, one edge leaned against the wall, and you can shoot through here. You have a few minutes before it solidifies, if you want to tailor it to Taelor."
He smiles, a little embarrassed by the stupid joke, and hands the panel to Taelor.

"No, let the skinny guy go first," Elan points out. "Let the muscular guy boost the skinny guy up. Order of operations.

"Plus, my telekinetic abilities can help shield the front as we advance. And I can probably return fire more readily than you can."[/color] He taps his temple.

Looking at the tight enclosure, he unslings his laser rifle and leaves it with Taelor. "Try it, if you like. No recoil. Makes your groupings tight as a snare drum."

And with that he moves to let Graham boost him into the vent.

Elan squeezes himself into the tight tunnel. There is barely enough room to crawl, he won't be able to turn around. Not a good time to discover an unknown claustrophobia.
The floors of the vents are thickly layered with undisturbed dust. These vents have not been used in a very long time. The little tunnel reaches a short way forward and then ends in a T-crossing. Elan slowly edges forward, almost choking on the fine dust that his movements inevitably stir up and peaks around the corner of the intersection. The vents seem to be intact enough to use them as a passage to somewhere closer to Cerebrus.

It doesn't take but a couple meters for Elan to become completely grimey with a century of dust. He knows it's going to be covering his clothes and probably his skin. He's been in this situation before but still... gross. His atmofilter is doing its best to keep the junk out of his lungs, but the thick cloud is clogging the filter and making airflow tougher. Elan has to inhale deeply, like he's climbing a mountain, even though he's only crawling along at a few centimeters per second.

He pauses, then givens Graham time to catch up and pause as well. "There's a T-intersection," he whispers behind him. "Which way?"

"Towards the production room, and down as soon as we can", whispers Graham, staring at Elan's feet.
"Hey, if we ever get the deed to this place, let's call the HVAC guy. The air handler is overdue for its once-a-century cleaning."
With a look back, Graham catches Statton's eye and gives him a grin. He bets Statton wishes he was somewhere else right about now, but he's determined to keep Statton's spirits up.

Elbow forward, pull. Elbow forward, pull. His shoulders are burning, his breath goes fast. The dust and the confined space make the climb torture. Every now and then Elan looks back to check whether his friends are still behind him. For them it is even harder not being able to see anything because of the dust he involuntarily stirs up. A few times they already had to stop for Statton to catch up.
Following the rough directions of the map beacon Graham set, at least as much as the vents allow they move towards where the production floor should be.
Just those 30m vertical direction worry Elan a bit. He does not expect to find a staircase in the vent and the tight space does not exactly allow for decent preparation for a proper climb - not like Statton would be able to climb the sheer metal walls of the vents one way or the other. Elan knows how to position his body to shimmy down a vertical shaft and Graham should be able to compensate lack of technique with brute force. But Statton is the weakest link.
The moment of truth comes in form of vertical shaft connecting the floors with on another. It's impossible to see how far up or down the vent system goes the tunnel simply disappears in the dark.
Elan takes Grahams rope, ties a glowbug to it and carefully lowers it into the tunnel downwards. If they are where they hope they are there should not be another horizontal vent for some distance due to the height of the production floor. The rope almost runs out before the next horizontal pipe comes into view, the vertical continues even further. Falling is not an option.
Using his metatool, Elan, as quietly as possible, pries two holes into the side of the vent and ties the rope tightly to the resulting hook. Satisfied with the strength of the makeshift climbing help he slides his head up into the vertical until he is standing on the edge of the opening stretching his tormented body thoroughly. After giving his companions some tips on how to climb down he steps back and shoots down the dark chimney. A rush of adrenaline fires up his senses and a feeling of satisfaction spreads in his guts. He knows his friends will struggle down this vent, but he feels at home. After a length of almost free fall, he starts breaking his fall only to come to a gentle halt in front of the lower floors vent. He slides in and shakes the rope as the agreed sign for Graham to follow. Energized by this stunt he is eager to continue and finish what they came for.

Statton lay flat in the vent staring down into the abyss. Elan had shot down so fast Statton had given a short yelp, thinking he fell. But moments after the rope gently swung giving Graham the sign to follow. He had followed in a much less agile fashion, but determined and without hesitation. Just like Elan had told them he held onto the rope and pushed his back and legs on the chimneys walls lowering himself slowly, but steadily. It had taken much longer until the rope swung again, but eventually it did.
Several minutes already passed, but he cannot get himself over the edge. Once again the rope is shaking, more persistent and wilder this time. He cannot go back the way he came, he knows that. There is only one way forward. Hesitantly Statton grabs the rope and awkwardly slides himself over the edge. A triumphant feeling spreads when he realises he is almost in the position Elan explained them to get into when his left foot steps into the void and he starts fallling. In panic Statton grabs the rope and tries to hold himself. The insides of his hands start burning, he winces due to the pain, but manages to stop his fall and slowly makes his way down.

He already starts to believe Statton won't come, when finally he appears struggling down the rope. After settling down for a moment Elan presses forward. Another never ending soldier crawl later they close in to Grahams virtual beacon. Ahead light falls into the vents. Elan signals the other to stay quiet and in place and then as quietly as possible makes his way to its source.
Through the bars of an opening to a room Elan looks into a large room with a gigantic machine, from which cables go into the ceiling. There is a closed double wing door leading out of the room otherwise the room is empty. Except for a big drone which is obviously there for security.

After the rest of the group disappeared down the vents, Taelor settles in behind the instapanel. She rummages in her bag, pulling out a bundle of A-cell. She undoes the bindings and pulls one out, rewrapping the others before putting them back in her pack.

She picks up the drone control module Graham had left behind and opens its casing with her metatool. It takes her a few minutes to rig it to the power cell and its network card. Her goal was to be able to activate it with a signal from her dataslab. Once she is done, she examines her handiwork, double checking the connections. She was pretty sure it would work, but since she couldn't test it without risking being swarmed by Cerebrus' drones, it was hard to be certain.

She puts her contraption down and sends a message to the others. //distraction ready. lmk when ur in position//

In the cramped spaces of the vents, Graham maneuvers to reach his compad. He sends a message to the group.
"Found the generator, guarded by large security drone. Three vents/firing positions available, we'll put one of us in each vent. Once in position, Taelor can move to the catwalk. Will send a message when we're in position."
With that, Graham starts to move slowly backwards.

Graham turns back to Statton to explain his idea of switching places. He instructs Statton to back up to the previous intersection and there to go into one tunnel on order for Graham to pass and Statton to then move in front of him. Statton nods, despite a confused look on his face. Graham starts crawling back.
Crawling backwards is another dimension of inconvenient as on top of not being able to move properly one can also not see. Sliding through the dirt, already covered in a thick paste made of dust and sweat Graham suddenly hears a cracking sound behind himself. He instantly stops and looks back only to see an empty tunnel, Statton is gone. Graham hecticly starts looking where the vent broke and Statton is, when he hears his friends voice from in front of himself.
"S-sorry, I did not understand what you had in mind and I.. can do this. What now?"

Graham nearly gets whiplash, as he snaps his head repeatedly between Statton's former location and his current location.
"What kind of people did I fall in with?" he thinks to himself. That slow smile lights up his face, with the realization that 'these people' are on his side. The thought is both comforting and unsettling.
He had met someone who was alleged to be a teleporter once, but had never seen teleportation in action. A million thoughts compete for attention in his head: the realization that a teleporter can be dangerous, that a teleporter can be useful, that a teleporter can screw you in the blink of an eye, or save your bacon just as quickly. And if there's one protection against a teleporter's abilities, it's to simply be a trusted friend. Mentally, he shrugs the thoughts away. That kind of friendship and loyalty is in his wheelhouse, he knows it, and it fills him with confidence. He could also be dead wrong.
Absentmindedly, another thought hits him. "Of the visitors to Astyoc who arrived in Tsunami, Elan has mental powers. Statton has mental powers. What about Taelor?"
Graham starts to drag his all-too-normal self back through the vent, and whispers, "Come on, Statton, let's get you to the next vent. Could you teleport in, shut off the generator, and teleport out?"

"I-i can get there and back, but whether I can turn off the reactor depends. I've worked with with some, but this is likely an old one m-model, so..." he shrugs.

"A reactor, eh?", Graham muses. "That complicates things."

After a pause, he suggests "Cutting off electrical output should be all we need. We can let the reactor keep running, but shouldn't we be able to open the circuit? If it didn't work that way, technicians would never be able to work on electrical lines without shutting the whole reactor down. There's got to be a way, short of destroying the electrical lines. When we get to the vent, let's get a picture of the controls, and send it to Taelor. I think she's good with this kind of stuff, isn't she?"