Right now, Arrow Gibbs didn't know what to do.

They lounged in an armchair, sipping at an expensive gin purloined from the Skiltron stores, and brooding. The war room had moved from the first safe house, out to one of the company's larger field offices in the heart – a glass-fronted behemoth draped in Skiltron logos and encased in lethal firewall coding.

They could feel it out there, just beyond the walls. It was like an animal, a wild, carnivorous thing ready to rip to shreds anyone who didn't belong. Although they understood the necessity, Arrow didn't like being this close to it.

Exhaling deeply, they took another swallow of gin, and tried to think. Tried to put their brain in order, and try not to think about how the city was spiralling out of control. Piper's vicious tirade had cut them deeper than they liked to admit. With everything that was happening, Arrow couldn't deny that this infighting seemed so petty in comparison.

But it was happening now. Piper was one person. A misfit who'd never belonged, and never wanted to be here anyway. Arrow and the rest didn't have the luxury of storming off into the sunset. They idly tapped fingers against the Ardenne Industries arrow on their shoulder and sighed.

Ardenne was a powerful corporation in its own right, and most of the people they knew in the organisation didn't have much sympathy with the clowns who thought building a new AI was such a fantastic business opportunity. By default that put them on Toran's side. Whatever Piper thought of it, if they didn't fight back against Vinder and the so-called 'board' that had seized control of AmpCore, things would get a whole lot worse.

A hiss of sliding doors snagged their attention. Rolling the ice-cubes around the glass, they turned and saw Toran stalk into the complex's main situation room, two armed guards never far behind. They suspected Conan Knox would have stapled the security to his son's ankle if he could.

"Toran?" To their right, Odiye straightened up, a half-empty mug of black coffee resting in one hand. "What's the word."

Toran smirked, and waved his chaperones away with a dismissive hand. Then he loped over to the table and poured himself a generous measure of dark, golden whisky. He virtually buried his nose in the glass and breathed deep, and only once he'd taken a gulp did he seem to relax just a little. His shoulders eased down just a touch, and he leaned against a nearby table.

He looked tired, but they could feel his implants pulsing from here. Arrow waited, fixing him with an expectant gaze. Two more gulps of whisky later he finally exhaled and met their eye.

"It's the board," Toran growled. "The same fucking board that Mattise shut out of that place when he took over, with a few coat-riding little snakes along for the ride! They just wanted their pretty toys back, and they used Vinder's bloody vendetta to get it."

His visor flickered. Arrow felt the twang of a connection request in their temples, and allowed the access. Their own visor flashed up, showing the data packet the Toran had just fired their way. An official – or at least something that claimed to be official – listing of AmpCore Academy reinstated board members shimmered in front of their eyes, each stamped with a flattering headshot and a corresponding corporate logo.

Odiye nodded grimly as he examined the names. "Gammaton, Atlantis, Wayfinder, Real-Raid-," he paused, one eyebrow rising, "Skiltron?"

"What?"

"There are three Skiltron Fireware special executives listed here." Odiye's visor vanished and he looked pointedly at his friend.

Toran nodded, his free hand clenching around the lip of the table behind him, fingers digging into the metal. Arrow watched uneasily, seeing the shimmer of power in the AmpCore implants beneath the skin. Even without his amplifier, Toran could easily reduce the table to a heap of slag with a violent outburst of emotion.

It almost came. They felt his implants bow dangerously before he wrestled them back under control, straightening up with a disgusted look on his face.

"Yeah, I might've known," he grated. "Some of Masvinar Karga's old poker buddies."

"Karga?" Odiye shook his head. "Isn't he in a holding cell somewhere with Oversight?"

"He's supposed to be."

"Then he's finished. Why are these people still following him?"

"It's not that simple, Tambo," Toran rumbled, starting to pace back and forth like a caged beast. "Skiltron's just too damn big. Too fucking bloated. Karga was just the one stupid enough to stick his neck out too far, but I guarantee you the company's infested with people who wanted the same, even if they weren't involved in it this time around. Now everybody's got an agenda they're pushing, snapping at each other's ankles, trying to keep the big brass sweet while running all the side-carves they can manage. It's all the top execs can do to keep the bloody thing together."

Arrow raised an eyebrow. "It's that bad?"

"And worse."

"So where does that leave us?"

Toran stopped pacing, dumping himself down into a chair beside them staring intently at the whisky in his glass. He didn't say anything for a moment, his face darkening, implants pulsing softly with residual energies. Then, in a sharp motion, he drained the rest of the glass and set it down gently beside him, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

"It leaves us," he said, in a tone of chilling calm, "with a lot of house cleaning to do."

"Have you heard from your father?" Odiye asked.

Toran nodded. "We already have our contingencies in place. There are legal freezes on the assets we can get hold of. Security at the Skiltron facilities he's responsible for are getting firmed up – we've got extra private security pulled in across the city. He's tasked me with putting our counter-strike initiatives into place."

"What do you need from us?"

"Your contacts at Code Vector came through?"

"They did," Odiye confirmed.

"Then I need you to deal with some of Vinder's fucking hangers-on. The minnows. Go cut some strings and get the message across that they've picked the wrong side."

Odiye exhaled, and pushed himself upright, rolling his neck from side to side. Arrow stood as well, though they clung to their glass a little longer, not wanting to waste a measure of gin as fine as this.

"Not you," Toran said quickly, giving them a shake of the head.

"I'm here to help, Toran," Arrow replied.

"I know that."

"Well?"

He grinned. "Relax. I've got a better job for you. One I think you'll actually like." 

*

They twitched. Arrow traced gentle patterns on the holographic interface with one finger, their amplifier glowing softly in the other hand. Beyond the bank of screens in the operations room, their presence flitted out into Hadrian's data streams, hunting for threats.

An easy task, in some ways. Arrow's skills with logistics made them an obvious choice to take a lead in Toran's counter-hacking phalanx that sought to limit the influence of the rival faction. A corporate war in Hadrian didn't make its presence known to most people. The battlefield for many was this invisible sea of snapping codes, viral attacks and firewalls.

They scurried their virtual self through a narrow defile, passing between the grinding, gnashing teeth of several Wayfinder firewalls. Their implants translated the miasma of Hadrian's data streams into something visual that the mind could quickly and easily comprehend. After years of practice, Arrow could navigate this virtual space as easily as walking the streets.

Their target came into sight a moment later – a glowing cluster of neon lattice towers that denoted a Gammaton Avionics virtual processing stack. It presented to her like a clump of skyscrapers, with glittering spears of data flashing between the towers thousands of times a second. Great searing barriers surrounded the cluster, burning with code that, if they touched it, would probably reduce their brain to ashes.

Arrow breathed deep, wriggling their presence closer, invisible fingers questing and probing for a weak point. Delicate; stealth. Those were the hallmarks of a true expert in the Logistic principle. AmpCore provided them with tools that even the finest unaugmented hacker couldn't hope to match.

They found their way in, lashing their form to an inbound secure data packet, subsuming themselves beneath it. Cramped was the best way Arrow could describe the sensation, like getting jammed into a suitcase, but it didn't last long.

The burn of the firewalls washed over them for an instant, then they were inside.

Smiling wryly, Arrow had to admit, Toran was right. This was definitely their kind of gig. Unfolding from their hiding place, they flexed their implants, and set about ripping the foundations from the processing centre.

The lower levels went dark as Arrow unleashed their true strength. Worse than any virus, they ravaged the data in those sections, decimating critical systems, erasing reams of corporate filings, research notes and algorithms that kept the whole system from collapsing in on itself.

After smashing the bottom floor our of the system, there wasn't much else that they needed to do. Arrow recoiled to a safe distance, watching the cascade of errors spread through the stacks, until the whole, delicate array imploded. The bright lattices crashed against each other, flickering and flashing with red error codes. The firewalls surrounding the data sputtered and died.

Job done.

Like an elastic band snapping back, Arrow fired across the datastreams, slamming back into their own body. Their chest heaved with a deep breath and they let their implants relax, a dull ache settling into their bones from the exertions, alongside their satisfaction.

Rubbing their eyes, Arrow relaxed back into their chair and gulped down water from the bottle by her operating station.

"Operative Gibbs?" chirped a young female administrative technician. "Apologies, we have a message from Mr. Knox."

"We do, do we?" Arrow cast a sidelong glance at the attendant. "I'm guessing it can't wait?"

"I'm afraid not. He has asked all senior personal to assemble in the main operations room."

"Senior?" Arrow snorted as they stood up. "I'm twenty-four."

Giving the technician a nod of thanks, they slid their amplifier into its sheathe and trudged through the halls of the Skiltron complex, passing locked doors, firewalls and armed guards until they reached the nerve centre of Toran's command. Odiye was already there, along with most of the senior operatives and personnel not currently out on mission.

That instantly gave Arrow a twinge of unease.

"Just in time," Toran drawled as he saw them enter, beckoning them over.

"What's with the class assembly?" Arrow replied.

"We just got a contact request from Vinder Tovas."

"From Vinder?"

"Yep. Seems like he wants to talk."

"Already?" Arrow raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Thought we were just getting started."

"Maybe the dumb bastard's realised he's bitten off more than he can handle."

Odiye frowned. "I wouldn't bet on that."

"Me neither," Toran chuckled, giving a nod to a nearby administrator. "Put it up. Let's see what he's got to say."

The main screen in the operations bank swam to life an instant later. A few seconds passed as the incoming transmission was subjected to a storm of anti-viral sweeps and containment measures, before Vinder's face finally appeared.

He looked irritated already. Clearly they'd been hoping to deal with Toran and the rest in one decisive swoop. Their escape from the academy and immediate counter-play had clearly upended the best laid-plans of the new board.

"Well, look who crawled out from the fucking slurry," Toran grated, fixing Vinder's image with a disgusted stare.

"Hello, Knox," Vinder replied, smiling thinly. "How's life on the streets?"

"All the comforts of home, you smarmy little prick."

"Is it just insults that you've got?"

"Why don't you take a field trip and find out?"

Vinder's smile broadened. "You must think I'm incredibly stupid."

"Got it in one."

Arrow resisted the urge to scream. Toran and Vinder hated each other – fine – but sitting here listening to them swinging their dicks around was wearing very thin, very quickly. They flexed the fingers of their right hand in irritation, catching Odiye's eye. He shrugged mildly. He was more used to Toran's abrasive streak than most people.

"You really think this is going to stand?" Toran challenged once their preliminary trading of barbs was concluded. "You killed Mattise and took over. Whatever legal you want to cloak it in, nobody is going to accept the legitimacy of your new board."

"I didn't want Mattise dead," Vinder snapped, "but he wouldn't let go. He was one man, and he refused to play the game the way it is meant to be played. Much like you are right now, Toran."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"We have our own business to finish. I couldn't give a damn who sits on the board, so long as I get you."

"Well that's what happens when you send the hired help to do a job you should have had the balls to do yourself." Toran took a step forward, his body glowing with rage as he spread his hands wide. "So here we are – you've got a war on your hands Vinder. If you called because you think you and me are doing to have a chivalrous little duel to settle this, you are stupider than I thought."

"It doesn't have to be-,"

"Shut the fuck up!" Toran snarled, and a sudden burst of energy from his implants sent several nearby consoles sparking into overload. "You're not getting out of this so easily, Vinder, you and every piece of shit, back-stabbing snake slithering along under your feet. You're in the big leagues now, where we play to win."

Vinder's face tightened with anger. "There really is no reasoning with people like you, is there? Just because you've got Conan Knox in your corner, you think you're fucking untouchable."

"Like I said, Vinder, welcome to the big leagues."

"Vinder?" Arrow shouted, finally unable to contain themselves any longer. "Do you actually have a proposal for us? Are you actually interested in ending this, or do you really just care about getting your bloody trophy to mount on the wall?"

"Always playing peacemaker, eh, bino?" he spat. "My deal is Toran Knox, and this ends. It's not that complicated. Toran comes here, alone, and answers for killing my sister, and for Ferra Thibault. Then daddy divests his holdings in the academy, and stays out of our way. After that, the rest of you can go back to your lives, and all of Hadrian gets back to normal."

Arrow walked forward slowly to stand beside Toran. "That's not much of a deal."

"It's the best one you're going to get."

"Then I guess the deal's off." They glanced at Toran with a derisive smile. "Sorry. Looks like you're going to have to do this the hard way."

"If that's how you want it," he replied with a pitying shake of the head. "I told the board I'd try, and I've done that. See you in the datastreams."

"Hey, Vinder?" Arrow said icily before the call could end. "Call me 'bino' again to my face, and you'll see how 'peaceful' I really am."

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