God, I fucking hate this feeling, being under someone's thumb. Usually being the one crouched on a rooftop over a dinner party, or a speech, or someone's home feels empowering, knowing any one of them could die right now and nobody'd be able to stop it. But today, I'm cloaked on top of one of the buildings around Tinamenn Square. I see some medals-out-the-ass general standing there, talking about the horrors of war, acting like he's fought a day in his life. Lucky for him, he's not the one my... erm.. employer... wants dead. He finishes up his load of bullshit and steps off stage to go sip martinis with women forty years younger than him. And then... My mark. A simulacrum. God, the poor fucker. This man has had his body so totally destroyed that he had to get his mind transferred to a robot. This man, I had some degree of respect for. He had fought before, and the higher ups decided a mind like his wasn't grunt materiel. Either way, my moral compass says the is the only way, and in a messed up sense, the right  way. I don't know where Elena is being kept and I can't find out, at least not now. And, either way, as soon as she is released, they know I'm going to kill them. You don't get out of that. The only logical way to keep themselves safe would be to keep her and use her as leverage. Any other way leads to the end of their life. I need to get information and fast, before they stop needing me. No matter. Right now, I have one objective. This simulacrum needs to die. This man. He steps onto stage and almost gets through his first sentence, before I fire my Pike into his memory core. In simulacrums, The fatal area is actually the chest, rather than the head. Even if he wakes up, he will never be himself again. He's still dead, even if his body is not. The shot is effortless. No matter how great the man, he falls all the same. The battle on Demeter, the heroics on Typhon, nothing stops a bullet on its way to a skull. I wish I could stick around, but I have to leave. I lower my rifle, still cloaked, and hope nobody tracks the trail the bullet leaves. If you've never seen it, I can't really explain it. The round travels through a dimension similar to our own, so similar it's nearly identical, but when disturbed, it creates... ripples, for lack of a better word, in our own. 

As soon as I'm out of danger, I get a phone call. I answer it on my suit's comm system, as the suit's onboard computer checks if the call is traced, I override the check and answer anyway.

"Good job. My men told me you took out a good five or so of them when they stormed your apartment. You should compete in the Apex Games people are talking about."

"I don't need the credits."

"Yes, but you want the bragging rights, don't you? As I understand it, you used to be quite the braggar-"

"That was before Typhon. Where's Elena? I wanna talk to her."

A long sigh, followed by words. "Okay, let me disengage the voice cloaking system and I'll give you to her." Fumbling, and a click. "Mr. Michaels?! What's happening!?" Another click. "Now, you have your proof. Now, your next assignment. A man named Solomon Grear lives in a highly protected home on Solace. He nearly never leaves, and when he does, it's with a heavily armed personal guard. You have three days to eliminate him."

I didn't respond with anything other than "He will die." I immediately started preparations to get my gear smuggled there. I knew what "Three days" meant, and I wasn't ready to take the chance that it was a bluff. I couldn't go to the police for help, because this could be one of the City's crime syndicates, but there was one person I knew I could count on through thick and thin. I dialed up Kev's personal number.

"Hello?"

"Yo, it's Jason." 

"Jace? What's up dude?"

"I need to talk, in person."

"I gotcha. No problem. Meet me where we got you fixed up last time."

I push through the door to see a very uncharacteristically serious Kevin. However, this time, I decide to leave him alone about it because of the dire situation. He had to know that something I asked for help on wasn't something to joke about.

"What have you got for me?"

"You know what I do, right?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Well, someone's kidnapped my dau- someone I care very dearly for. And they're using her to make me do it for free."

"That's a dick move on their part. Why do you need me?"

"I need these-" I heft the suitcase I had dragged in behind me, and toss it to the ground, the impact causing it to open. "-smuggled to Solace."

"Not too difficult. Anything else?"

"If it's not too much trouble, get me everything you can find on a 'Solomon Grear'."

"That won't be hard. The man has the same password to every single account under his name. I don't think a little reconnaissance will be any kind of problem."

"One last thing."

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone about what I'm doing here. I have no idea where this guy has ears, and I don't wanna find out until I'm ready. And thanks for not asking questions."

"I still haven't told anyone about that time you pissed your pants in second grade. What you say to me, stays with me unless you say otherwise. And, you're welcome."

"Kev, you're my best friend. I trust you absolutely. When this is all over, I'll take you to that one place you like near the museum."

"Sounds good, Jace."

With that, I headed out the door to the nearest spaceport. First, this Solomon guy, then, whoever's holding Elena.