Freeport 10's Research Deck: Commonwealth Research and Development Wing.

[Enkidu]

Achille surveyed the overhead security feed with a hunger which could only be described as lustrous, the microcamera silently recording every figure, result and depiction that flittered across McCarthy's workstation like shimmers on a mirror, the camera compressing the month's interminable hours to double the speed, requiring constant, painstaking interruption as a treasured detail flashed past, nearly missed. Yet Achile wouldn't have missed this for the world.

"My dear, you are a goldmine; so much more than just another pretty face." He breathed, reddened eyes scanning madly over the screens. "Our policy of secrecy is secured, yes, but to you... well, we can render an exception." A grin flickered on his features, only to fade. It was too much effort after all, the effort to be happy or calm, the effort to do anything but succumb to the curiosity which wrapped him.

Her research on NOX, outside, external, unprompted, was especially intriguing. Perhaps if he was quick enough he could market his, her, findings before Autoine became aware of it. Would Susan know, or even care? Quite possibly not.

The temptation flickered through Achille to merely insert a simple passcode, hack her terminal, and transfer all of her personal information to his own, but resisted, just. Susan was still unfathomable to him, an alien entity, and it was quite possible that she would be one step ahead of him over any eight-arsed bungles at liberating her data. "After all, it's what I would do, if I were her. God damn that woman..."

A sudden, stabbing scald and Achille profaned, grasping at his reddened arm, the reservoir of the neighbouring coffee cup upended over the screens, capillaries bursting as his sleeve bonded to his arm.

"Sh*t, Shi*ting merde"... he gestured, struggling angrily to memorise the action which had lead to the spillage, his tired mind forcing him into oblivion, destroying the coffee which had left him chained there, pouring over Susan's bloody work. Silently, he admitted defeat, the wills of the body overpowering his mind. Cumbrously, he staggered up, and fell in the general direction of his suite.

---

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)

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