The stylus shifted about in D'Anna's grip as she trailed along the pages of her notebook. Her knuckles stood out against her dark skin, gold-alloy joints smoothly shifting with every curve and line. She followed along the edges of the coat in her memory. The image lay over the page before her eyes, like a digital ghost.

It had been difficult to get it out of the tower security systems. Tanu had tried to piece it together as best they could. Lines of loose code bled into the image of the man, roughing up the edges of his coat. 

But still, she sketched them in. A little flourish of her own. She kept her focus on the notebook in her hands-

The light panels overhead flickered, and the trams rumbled down the center of the corridor. The door beside her opened and shut as people moved past along the side of the transport lane.

-and the security door across the way.

Every flash and tone of the signal light ran ahead of the next wave of sound as it crashed through the corridors like a current. Passengers rode past on the transport lanes. Cargo runners raced somewhere over their heads. And people gathered at the lane crossings. The rumble of the trams faded down the corridor, the crossing gates opened, and the crowd rushed away. The signal flashed again as another wave gathered-

D'Anna glanced back and forth from her sketch to the crowd. 

-the cargo runners racing by-

There he was. Stepping right into the crowd as the lights changed-

-and the crossing gates opened. D'Anna watched as the man approached the door across the corridor. Circuits silently whirred to life in her eyes, tracking the man as he unlocked the door - scratching down the code as he punched it in - and slipped inside.

It looked like the info she'd gotten from Tanu was right on the mark-

She brushed her thumb over a name she'd written on the same page, Rosi.

She'd made a promise, and she planned to keep it…

She tucked everything away, the gates sliding shut behind her as she crossed to the other side.

-now she just had to stay on him.

D’Anna’s breath turned to fog in the cold air of the hall as she trailed her mark.

The man tugged his coat tighter against the cold, the steam of his breath glowing in the cold lighting of the panels overhead. Dark green spread across his shoulders, a stark contrast to the pale gray that wrapped his arms and waist. It wasn’t too uncommon to see on an engineer’s coat… But she could see a white synth-silk scarf poking out over his collar.

That kind of fabric wasn’t cheap. Hardly something she’d see on an engineer this far down in the city. He was owned, whether he admitted it or not. That scarf was as much a collar as a comfort, paid for by his patron. But who paid him didn’t matter-

Another door slid open with a click, the engineer more focused on pulling his data card from the lock and tucking it away than on the hall. D’Anna followed close behind him as he stepped through.

Too close. Dammit, she was too close!

The door failed to close when it should have, the engineer’s heel grinding to a halt on the concrete floor.

She had to be quick. Think of something…

D’Anna tucked her hands away in her pockets as he turned, quickly speaking up, “I’m sorry, sir. I would have announced myself sooner, but my employer prefers discretion.”

-what mattered was the job.

With a cautious frown, he looked her up and down, nervously adjusting his scarf.

If he knew she was lying, he didn’t show it. He was too twitchy for her liking…

He kept glancing at her wrap-tunic, eyeing the synth-silk with a thoughtful tug of his scarf.

Sometimes it paid to keep a few of her old things.

His voice was low and ragged, “What sort of work, ma’am?”

He waved a hand over a sensor by the door, shop tables lining the wall next to him lighting up all at once. The light was just as cold as the hall, old metal arches casting shadows along the curved ceiling of the narrow shop. A pair of mech tables formed an island in the center of the room, their mechanical arms and cables neatly folded away.

It seemed innocent enough, a mechanics shop like any other. And yet, it felt wrong. It was too clean and put together, almost like a showroom. What was it hiding?

He chuckled as he looked back at her, waving to the selection of parts that sat neatly on his table, “We can work with whatever you might need: Mechanical, Cybernetic, even Mechatronic.”

Every piece had its place like he was proud of his work. He probably was. But it wasn’t good enough. Come on. If he could just show her where he could be keeping them…

“A mech,” she said, earning a pause from the man as he looked at her more carefully. “It’s my employer’s understanding that you’re in supply.”

The engineer frowned in thought as he picked an eye from the table, the gold-alloy iris shining under the light as he turned back to her. She stared at the eye as he rolled it in his hands, thankful for her tinted glasses.

“Well, that depends,” he started, slowly turning his back. He tossed the eye behind him, inquiring over his shoulder, “What model?”

D’Anna caught it on reflex, her joints glinting in the shop lights. She did her best to ignore the gleam in his eye and the self-satisfied smile on his face. He was getting a little too curious…

“An RC-N unit,” she said, keeping her voice gentle as she set the eye back in its place on the table.

“Workhorse,” he mused. “Now why is an expensive android like you coming here? And all for a mech that’s easy to order anywhere?”

“As I said, my employer prefers discretion,” D’Anna said with a frown. “And a workhorse isn’t the only model they’re looking to get, even if you’d have to reset their cores.”

She was pushing him, but if he took the bait…

He hummed thoughtfully, striding over to the far end of the wall as he spoke, “Very well, miss…?”

“AT-S-039,” D’Anna lied, earning a chuckle from the man.

“Tower staff, hmm?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I see why your employer would wanna keep things quiet,” he said, eyeing her over his shoulder as he rummaged for his tools. “Folks up in the towers have reputations to uphold.”

“Yes, they do,” D’Anna said, her eyes scanning around the shop as she approached a tool chest embedded into the opposite wall.

“Well-” the engineer said as he came up behind her, core resetter in hand, thumb waiting on the trigger. “-you’re in luck, ma’am. I came into an RC-N unit recently.”

She heard the tell-tale click and crackle of electricity, spinning around in time to block the prongs of the resetter with her hand. Lightning arced from the three metal prongs, surging up through her arm, and into her shoulder as it threw her back. She slammed into the drawers behind her, shoulder screaming from the impact. She clutched at her arm, limp and numb from the jolt. Her hand was smoking…

“Took the shock to your arm and not your body. You’re pretty quick,” he hummed, giving the resetter another crackling click as he loomed over her. “Now, why are you here?”

She groaned as she tried to flex her fingers, “Looking for someone…”

D’Anna cried out as she slammed her arm into the drawers, shocking some sensation back into the limb.

The engineer just shook his head with a ragged chuckle, “No one else here but us. Not that it matters.”

Sparks arced across the triple prongs as he lunged for her.

One good jolt, and she’d be out like a light. She’d have to be quick.

She jabbed him in the arm - alloyed knuckles slamming into muscle - and sent the tool clattering to the floor. She surged up from her place on the ground. Her burned hand ached as another punch to the button of his chin sent him stumbling back into the mech table, head rattling.

“You…!” he sputtered, leaning against the table as his head spun.

She closed the gap in a single lunge, stepping like a boxer as she hooked an arm under his ribs. With her whole weight, she yanked him up and drove him back down onto the floor. She hauled him up by shirt and scarf, her joints whirring as she held him tight. He grabbed her wrist as he tried to stand, his feet scrambling against the floor. But she wouldn’t budge.

“You’ve got a storage space somewhere, don’t you, sir. Somewhere out of sight,” she kept her voice a soft-spoken threat, knocking his footing with a firm shake that ripped his collar.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the engineer snapped, looking back at the tool chest embedded in the wall.

“It’s behind there, isn’t it, sir?”

She shook a yes from him before she threw him onto the floor again. She grabbed his collar and dragged him back over to the worktable, harshly propping him against its leg.

She yanked off his scarf, the man groaning as she tied his hands to the table, “W-Wait. Wait!”

“Don’t worry sir,” she dismissed him with a shake of her head. “I’m sure you’ll get yourself out in an hour-”

-maybe three, if she was being honest. But now-

D’Anna sighed and rose to her feet, her eyes scanning over the walls and floor as she approached the tool chest.

-she had a door to find.

She frowned at the wall as she looked it over, muttering under her breath, “Now, how do you open…?”

She could see the way the tool chest moved, her eyes picking up the grooves it left behind.

But she couldn’t find the lock…

She closed her eyes as she ran her hands along the sides of the chest, focusing on the contacts in her palms. As her hand trailed halfway down, she felt it, a gentle signal pinging against her palm.

“Data lock,” she hummed, feeling out the interface. She looked back at the man, still struggling against his scarf as she spoke, “Your card’s the key, isn’t it, sir.”

It wasn’t a question.

His data card wasn’t hard to find. No one’s was really…

She paused as she pulled it from his pocket, a softer green than his coat. But it was the emblem etched into the plastic circuits that caught her eye. A white oval with two flattened sides, three diamonds cut out along its center. 

She knew it well.

“Mr. Archer,” she said with a frown, curling her hands into a fist. “Now why is he funding a chop shop?”

“Wouldn’t know,” the engineer coughed, trying to get the wind back in his lungs.

“Yeah, you do,” she said, rolling her eyes as she walked away.

“Who are you?” he asked, staring at her as she looked back.

“I don’t really know myself, sir…”