Storing the food box in a mostly empty pannier, Adi is surprised to find her Improved Outer Tactical Vest holding her remaining grenades, Marine fighting knives, IFAK and other combat tools in the wrong compartment. Adi briefly considers donning her IOTV, but after moving it to its correct compartment, she leaves it in the bike.

Adi slams her visor closed, restoring her air supply. Turning on her Augmented Reality Display (ARD) program, which she hadn't often used since leaving the Corps. Her ARD program cast shimmering visuals and urgent tactical data onto the gritty tunnel walls, the flickering displays illuminating dust motes dancing in the stale air. A low hum emanated from her motorcycle, a subtle vibration against her skin.

Adi mentally kicks herself for not thinking of using her ARD earlier. Since leaving the Corps, Adi has gotten out of the habit of keeping her programs running other than her Threat Assessment (TA) program, which runs all the time.

After a moment's pause during which she considered the caloric cost, Adi turns on her Multisensory Integration (MSI) and Target Acquisition (TarAcq) programs. Adi's neural net enhances her senses by combining data from various sensors and sources, mostly from her Ozzy.

Her Ozzy's sensors tied to her combat programs and neural net helped her assess threats and plan her moves. By blending thermal imaging, lidar, radar, night vision, and audio enhancements, her situational awareness improved dramatically. 

Adi had gotten out of the habit of using her ARD, TarAcq, TA, and MSI programs because of the steep caloric load they require. Adi can handle those intense processes since Kane covers her food costs. Thinking of food, Adi gulps down a tube of chicken-masala flavored Myrmidon pre-load paste. The paste has the consistency of a gritty pâté. She attempts to wash the taste of the paste off her tongue by chugging a bottle of water.

She pops two Apex Burn-Brite chews. The small, rubbery cubes gleamed dully under the dim light, and as they touched her tongue, the gritty texture scraped against her teeth. A metallic tang, sharp and acrid, flooded her mouth, mirroring the harsh, stinging sensation of battery acid. She immediately feels a hit of energy, similar to a caffeine buzz. Her vision snaps into focus.

Adi often overlooks her enhanced perception, somewhat unaware that not everyone possesses her exceptional night vision, infrared vision, telescopic vision, and macroscopic vision, which make her an unparalleled observer. She excels at solving mysteries, finding clues, and uncovering hidden information.

She can spot hidden details, track targets over great distances, and operate effectively in low-light or obscured environments. Adi's enhanced vision combined with her neural net makes her a formidable combatant, capable of precision targeting and superior situational awareness.

In the dark silence of the tunnel, the cybernetic hub that replaced her spleen creates a low-frequency hum that Adi can feel in her teeth. It never stops. It makes sleeping in a quiet room impossible.

She toggles the ASMR feature of her neural net, selecting the pink noise setting. Her net adjusts the frequency of the noise masking the hub's hum. The noise reminds her of rainfall, which is rare on Chendiuria, happening only once or twice a year.

Feeling refreshed and better prepared, Adi pushes through the barricade and continues her subterranean journey across the city. Driving away from the former CDSI agent, Adi's thoughts drifted to the man. Since returning to Chendiuria, she has always considered their professional relationship purely transactional.

A nagging feeling at the back of Adi's mind told her there might be more. Between gang checkpoints, Adi used her neural net to replay Kane's instructions for the high-stakes job; her thoughts remained on the man. She remembers an odd thing he said before they parted: "only the dead have seen the end of war."

Kane watched Adi's motorcycle vanish down the dark, trash-strewn tunnel, the tires whispering against the stone. A plume of ozone exhaust hung in the air, acrid and sharp, stinging his nostrils. His gaze lingered on Adi's departing form.

The image of Adi receding burned into his mind as the weight of their mission settled heavily on his shoulders. Though he wished to tell her everything, he had to keep vital secrets for her protection and their mission's success.

He thought about Adi's strong hand-to-hand combat skills. He recalls her maternal uncles taught her some Eastern Indian martial arts, but forgets their unpronounceable names. Adi's size and reach, because of Corps Myrmidon modifications, made Krav Maga her preference.

Kane found out from military sources that Adi was excellent at hand-to-hand and CQC, winning several unarmed combat competitions during her enlistment. Parris Island on Old Terra, and the Mars Marines offered her instructor positions on Old Earth and Adalfarus station, respectively.

To teach at Adalfaus, Adi would have had to convert to a Mars Marine, which Kane doesn't think she would've wanted to do. Adi, Kane believed, felt it was better to volunteer and choose her service branch rather than risk being conscripted. The chance of being conscripted was low, about one in ten thousand, but Adi didn't want to risk it.

He knew Adi is also proud to be only the third Colonial Marine volunteer from Chendiuria. Four more volunteers have enlisted since Adi, however. Adi also lucked out. The Colonial Marines extended new enlistment terms to 10 standard years the year after she joined. Adi only had to serve six standard years.

A pang of concern crept in, reminding Kane of her relative youth and vulnerability. For all her Marine Myrmidon brilliance up close, kukris in both hands, Kane kept mistaking Adi’s lethality for invulnerability, overlooking the hesitations and quiet insecurities that made her human—and realizing, too late, that even the sharpest weapons have fault lines.

He knows he’s the one pushing her into the grinder, winding her tighter with every upgrade and every lie he tells himself, and the guilt sits there like a bad debt—ignored, compounding, and certain to come due. He tells himself it’s necessary, that survival justifies the cost, but in the quiet moments he knows the truth—every step she takes deeper into the dark is one he pointed her toward, and no amount of armor will keep that blood off his hands.

Adi's deadliness makes people forget the pauses, the hesitations, the small social missteps. He believes that her powerful, masculine-like presence conceals Adi's vulnerability, making it difficult for her to be feminine. The planned upgrades optimized her combat output while neglecting her inner terrain. Those overlooked cracks will become fault lines when pressure rises.

Perhaps Asteria can help. Adi has studied with several Buddhist and Hindu monks, trying to achieve inner balance and strength to overcome her failures.  

Kane hopes that while in the Corps, she learned to face her fears and doubts. Adi is often intimidating, critical, judgmental toward others' weaknesses, quick to anger, and bossy. Others might feel emotionally distant because of her strong authority. She is also clear, assertive, decisive, brutally honest, responsible, and courageous.

Kane knows that despite her experiences in the Corps, Adi is moralistic and somewhat naïve. Adi possesses a strong sense of right and wrong. Kane knows that, unlike experienced intelligent operatives, Adi is as subtle as a nuclear bomb, a trait common among Marines.

With Rat's death, the mission no longer requires subtlety. He and those backing him believe Adi has the best chance. Considering their history, Kane was thought to be the best person to contact Adi.

He regrets the one awful, fumbling sexual encounter they had and wishes she would give him a do-over. Kane vividly remembers the petite woman who left Chendiuria. Adi barely met the Colonial Marine minimum height and weight requirements. He mentally compares that image with the over two-meter-tall, imposing former Marine that returned. 

From their brief childhood together, Kane remembers Adi was tired of being told she was cute and tiny. Adi used to be the smallest person in the room, but now is often the largest. Kane wonders if Adi still has the small-woman mentality.

He is very familiar with Adi's famous temper, which, according to the late Rat and Niles, has worsened since she underwent Marine augmentation.

Kane and his backers fear Adi will go wild again. The Colonial Marine JAG officers saw the Krios-4 mission logs and smelled blood. Adi had bypassed safety governors, used unsanctioned chemicals, and effectively committed destruction of government property—the property being her own body.

The Iron Ore squad threatened a full-scale mutiny if anyone harmed their sergeant. Faced with a PR nightmare, Colonial Fleet Marine Command offered Adi a medical honorable discharge. After she declined the early discharge and the CFMC's subsequent disbanding of the Iron Ore squad, Adi returned to boring deep space station guard duty where she watched a lot of IVR shows in her off time.

Kane and Adi, as children, were Battle Arena junkies. Truthfully, Kane is still a massive BA fan. They enthusiastically watched the BA gladiators. Kane remembers Adi's temper when her favorite BA gladiator "died" and then retired from competition. Kane had fantasized about becoming a BA gladiator. Adi would not become a gladiator because, despite her qualifications, the arena's filth was off-putting for her.

Adi hates being dirty, so no way was she going to volunteer for the Colonial Marine Special Forces. Colonial Marines that drop onto planets such as Recon are colloquially called "mud marines." Although her small size at the time of her enlistment would have made her a good recon scout.

While Kane is unsure of her motives, he wonders if Adi's deep-seated physical insecurities caused her to volunteer for the Colonial Fleet Marine Myrmidon regiment, knowing it came with such a radical physical transformation.

Measured by his augments, Adi stands at 2.032 meters and weighs about 311kg. The planned upgrades for Adi will increase her weight. Thinking back to their brief childhood together, he remembers Adi hated swimming. It's a good thing. As with her exceedingly dense muscle and bone mass and subdermal armor, Kane bets Adi sinks like the proverbial brick.

Kane noticed Adi's weight loss, and that she looked emaciated, indicating she hadn't been eating enough. He believes Adi starved herself because of her financial deprivation. Adequately feeding someone of Adi's size and metabolism is pricey. Kane plans to fix some of Adi's problems.

When he returns home, he will gather a care package for Adi. He plans to send it to her with a flying messenger drone. He's pretty sure he knows where Adi is heading. But if he is wrong, the trackers he placed on Adi's helmet, jacket and bike will let him track her anywhere on the planet.

Adi had known Kane since childhood, as they grew up in the same residential tower. Although they were never quite friends, they shared classes in the planet-wide interactive virtual reality classroom during their primary education years. Kane is nearly eight years older than Adi and comes from a wealthy Uighur family.

Kane’s family moved out of the tower when Adi was 10. A chance meeting at a mutual classmate’s party resulted in a stoned, drunk and mostly forgotten unsatisfactory, at least on Adi’s side, brief sexual encounter after the party. Adi was 16, considered a legal adult, and Kane was 24.

Kane assumed Adi was familiar with sex, but discovered she was a virgin and their encounter was a disastrous fumbling disappointment. Adi isn't in love with Kane, but cares for him a bit in her own way.

Adi had been unaware that Kane was the secret mastermind behind many assignments that Rat had sent her way over the years. Although a few jobs had come from Kane via drone or courier, their direct communication had stopped long before Adi left for Colonial Marine boot camp on Old Terra.

Despite their occasional contact through Rat’s mediation, Adi had only recently discovered Kane's significant role in shaping her clandestine career.

Adi probed deeper into the man's past. She had always assumed Kane was just a rogue former CDSI agent with a penchant for the shadier side of life. Something about this job made her question her assumptions.

She initiated a quick background check using her 'net's illicit programs. As she sifted through the digital records, she uncovered a surprising fact: Kane had once been a highly respected scientist, a brilliant mind in the biotechnology field. Kane, though not a child prodigy, was a wunderkind who excelled and outshone his peers so much that the Chendiurian Defense Security Initiative recruited him directly after college. 

While at the CDSI, Kane worked on cutting-edge projects to improve human capabilities through genetic engineering and cybernetic enhancements. His work had the potential to revolutionize the way humanity approached augmentation.

But then, something had gone terribly wrong. The authorities abruptly terminated Kane's research, and he vanished from the scientific community. Rumors suggested that his experiments had crossed ethical boundaries, resulting in unintended consequences. Others whispered salacious rumors of sexual misconduct. His later misdeeds overshadow his earlier successes.

Adi couldn't help but wonder how a renowned scientist had transformed into a rogue agent entangled in the shadowy world of covert operations. With a newfound determination to uncover the truth, Adi couldn't help but feel that her decision to accept the job had opened the door to a much larger and more complex situation than she had ever expected.

She needed answers and felt this job might provide more than just a hefty payout. The Chendiurian government strives to be as dysfunctional as possible, so getting answers may not be easy or quick.

Adi's investigation into Kane's past revealed a past affiliation with a secret suborganization of the Conclave called the Lazarus Consortium. According to the official records, the Lazarus Consortium ceased to exist over 200 standard years ago.

The puzzle pieces started falling into place, but Adi had more questions than answers. What had driven Kane to abandon his scientific pursuits and become deeply embroiled in the dangerous world of clandestine operations? And how did she fit into this intricate web of secrets?

She remembers Master Sergeant Vuthy stating that the worst of those under his command are the truest reflection of his leadership abilities. She wonders what that says about Kane and her.

Adi is surprised to find it is still the middle of the night as he finally exits the tunnels into a trash-strewn alley. Both moons cast their pale glow, piercing the inky blackness and bathing the world in an ethereal light. Adi's eyes, unburdened by the usual darkness, see the landscape clearly, negating any need for night vision.

She hadn’t been paying attention to the time as she traveled underground. Adi reorientates herself. Kane’s reroute removed several kilometers of travel, speedily bringing Adi closer to her target than planned initially. She's within walking distance of her target. A quick MercNet search reveals a well-vetted nearby storage unit. 

Finding a somewhat illicit storage unit for her cherished damaged Ozzy proves less daunting than Adi initially expected. The shadowy, somewhat unlawful and prohibited MercNet identifies a storage company in the next block known for asking no questions. Adi hopes that the 50-credit fee for the information is worth it. 

A mixed-race man in crimson robes waits for her. He stands a little too stiff, all lean angles and nervous stillness, as if he doesn’t quite fit his own skin. Short black hair falls forward just enough to shadow a smooth, fine-boned, predatory face. His obvious cybernetic yellow-orange eyes bulge slightly, sunken deep in their sockets, never leaving Adi as she approaches. Beneath his right eye, an old subdermal LED tattoo flickers weakly—a talon, glitching in and out like a threat that’s learned to whisper instead of shout. There's something inexplicable about him.

"Aditi Peshlakai. Welcome fem. Let me show you where to park your motorcycle." 

Adi winces, her damaged Ozzy groaning a mournful dirge, its frame shuddering with each protesting shake, until she finally parks it at the spot the person indicated deep within the mausoleum-like cavernous building. She inspects the small lockable storage unit.

"You can imagine, boyo, what will fucking happen to you if my bike is not here when I return."

The man offers only a shallow bow before extending a datapad with the bill, impersonal as a naked blade laid flat. The number is obscene, but Kane’s credits soften the blow, giving Adi just enough distance from the price to pretend it doesn’t hurt. Adi's surprise was palpable when the proprietor greeted her by name.

"How did you know my name?"

"Kane had foreseen your arrival with an impressive degree of certainty, estimating your chances of patronizing my establishment at over 95%."

"Fuck."

Adi feels a twinge of disappointment at her predictability, yet she's also grateful that Kane had undertaken much of the groundwork in establishing this contact. Kane's influence leads Adi to believe the owner might be less likely to betray her for the substantial reward.

He points to a rumpled rag pile lying on the ground.

"From Kane. He dropped it off for you. Cover your bike with it."

At a distance, the tarp looks like nothing more than a discarded, oil-stained pile of industrial heavy-duty poly rags. Up close, however, the surface reveals a hexagonal micro-cell structure. These cells are chameleonic, shifting their matte texture and color, mimicking the floor and background of the storage unit.

The Wraith-Mesh "Ghost-Drop" E-Tarp has such a low electronic signature that it is practically impossible to locate unless someone stands beside it. Because the bike is damaged, the tarp drapes unevenly, but the onboard processor uses visual displacement algorithms to compensate for the jagged silhouette, making the bulk of the motorcycle look like a flat, empty corner of the cubicle.

Adi has to be careful; the tarp draws power from a small ion battery. If that dies, the invisibility fades into a dull, shimmering silver that sticks out like a sore thumb. She gives the man extra credits ensuring that the battery will not die on her tarp.

"I expect you to keep the power on the tarp."

The man merely bows to her again.

Adi sets up a standby protective micro drone swarm with the last of her Ozzy's drones for added safety. Should someone discover or tamper with her bike, the drone swarm will attack. She adds the robed man as an allowed person so that he can maintain the tarp's power. But if he touches her bike, he will get a nasty surprise.

Grabbing her Shadowfury 15mm pulse rifle and her IOTV, Adi briefly considers leaving her motorcycle helmet with her bike. She continues to wear her protective helmet and motorcycle overalls in case she has to fight.

Adi's helmet not only shields her face from surveillance but also provides a layer of anonymity, ensuring her identity remains concealed. No longer plugged into the air hose, she adjusts her helmet's vents for easier breathing and heat dissipation.

Taking a moment, Adi checks again that the 50 mm semiautomatic built-in underslung grenade launcher is fully loaded. She replaces one of the HE frag grenades in the magazine with a high-velocity, high-intensity nanothermobaric grenade. She pulls the HE frag grenade from the chamber, loading a collapsed tantalum antipersonnel flechette grenade instead. Slipping the HE grenades into her IOTV, Adi swings her rifle over her shoulder.

Adi discovered a surprising amount of food in her bike's food bin. Someone, she believes Kane, the most likely culprit, broke into her bike and left several drinking water bottles, Myrmidon high-density rations, and Blue-Line Sustainment Kits. Several Sean Cawley bars, flavored with chocolate and carob, and both detested and crucial, lay on top of everything.

She remembers ...

Adi wedges herself into the shadow behind a shattered vending kiosk as rounds chew the far wall to powder. Concrete dust drifts like gray snow. Her suit ticks off incoming vectors she already knows by feel. Three shooters. One drone. Bad angles.

She reaches back without looking, fingers finding the cryspoly sleeve, then the ration brick jammed beside it. Sean Cawley’s stupid grin stares up at her from the wrapper. She snarls at it, tears the seal with her teeth, and snaps the bar in half against the edge of the kiosk.

The sound of it cracking is obscene. Hard rubber giving way with a dull, offended pop.

She doesn’t try to bite it. Nobody sane does. She palms her knife, chops the bar into ugly cubes on the kiosk’s scorched surface while a burst walks past her head and chews neon into sparks. The cubes stick together, stubborn as modeling clay.

“Fuck you too,” she mutters, and shoves two pieces into her mouth.

It tastes like iron and vitamins and regret. She swallows them whole, dry. The bar does not care. It never does. Calories slam into her system like a switch thrown. The hum she expects in her teeth doesn’t come. The new hub keeps everything quiet, centered.

She leans out just enough to draw fire, then pulls back as the wall explodes where her head was. Another two cubes, swallowed. She breathes slow, steady. Not thirsty. That’s the miracle. That and the fact she can still move.

The drone dips, whining. She times it by instinct, rolls, and throws the last chunk into her mouth as she comes up on one knee. Swallows. Draws. Fires. The drone drops in a shower of fragments.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her glove, tastes metal again, and finally allows herself a thin, vicious smile.

“Two meals my ass,” she says, and steps back into the fight.

After her flashback, with quick efficiency, Adi retrieves food and drink from her bike, stowing them in the pockets of her overalls and tucking a few extra pieces into her IOTV, and boom bag for good measure.

Rechecking her bike, she grabs her boom bag, a heavy canvas and denim marine surplus OD green bag, from its pannier. Adi finds her bag suspiciously heavy, far heavier than a few pieces of explosives should have made it. She knows the bag contains two improved claymore mines on the bottom. Lying on top of the mines are several two-kilogram blocks of improved plastique with detonators in a separate sealed fire and spark-proof box. An explosives multi-tool in its protective case with accessories and several meters of det cord is also in the bag.

Examining the boom bag’s contents, Adi is taken aback to find four full 15mm pistol magazines. Underneath the magazines on top of the explosives are multiple vacuum-sealed packages of homemade snacks, each meticulously labeled with Nyomi's distinct, elegant looping handwriting. The realization dawned on her that Nyomi had prepared these snacks herself and discreetly slipped them into her bag, a gesture that touched Adi deeply. 

Perplexed by the discovery of the snacks tucked away in a bag she seldom uses, Adi's mind races with questions. Why would Nyomi place pistol magazines in her boom bag? Why would Nyomi hide these snacks in such an unlikely place? Is her lover not just a receptionist at a massage parlor but also a member, like Kane, of a clandestine group? Could it be that Nyomi knew about this job before Adi?

Is that why Adi hasn't heard back from her? Concern and doubt gnaw at Adi's thoughts as she considers the unusual silence from her lover, prompting her to redial Nyomi's number, leaving yet another voicemail. With each passing moment of unanswered calls, Adi's concern deepens, realizing that Nyomi has never gone this long without returning her calls.