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The Moon is so small. Earth One's grasp on the celestial object had weakened with age.

Earth One: humanity's birthplace. Now old. Overburdened. Poisoned. Dying. Qaad couldn't help but feel a connection with the planet he inhabited. He too was in his sunset years.

How could the human have expected to spend them here? A lifetime of experience had failed to erode his trusting nature, and that naivete lead him to captivity. A prisoner of this warehouse, where the desperate feed on the desperate.

He had fought his jailors at first. There were plentiful scars to attribute to each of the early escape attempts. But acceptance was a virtue ingrained in him since childhood. And he had to accept his place. There is no escape. Not from here. Not for a man of his age. Far younger men and woman die in this place.

Qaad turned his gaze from the restroom's barred window. Best not to dwell on the outside world. It was no longer for him.

With palms full of tap water, the man rinsed his face in an attempt to ward off Earth One's ceaseless heat. Lukewarm fluid dampened his long white beard, caused the fabric of his dirty yellow T-shirt to cling to his body, and trickled to filthy tile beneath calloused feet. Yet it failed to diminish the smell of wet dog that surrounded him like an aura. He hadn't showered in a few days. Could be worse. Some haven't showered in weeks. His employee of the month perk. Regular showers.

Five minutes. Break's over! Dingy bathroom sliding doors released the old man back to the [i]corn field[/i]. A cute name for the warehouse's several dozen rows of TeleLummox pods. If Qaad listened closely, he could discern the pond of whispers breathing out from the grey monoliths.

[i]Screams![/i] Qaad's attention was yanked between two pods, where he spied another worker cowering under a trio of guards' beating sticks. Poor mission results? An overextended break? Perhaps the employers were bored today? Hard to say. It's really not his business.

Only a minute passed before Qaad stood facing his designated pod. [i]QAAD QUAYANTE[/i] read the electronic display on the capsule's side, and just under that, another name glowed.

JINETTE JAYO.

Jinette. Qaad's assigned [i]idenity[/i]. The seductive female personage Qaad masqueraded under for 15 hours a day.

Ironic really. The very work that trapped Qaad here, also served as a temporary means of escape -- both from this warehouse, and from his own frail form. Sure, the reprieve of telerobotic control was wrapped in the conditions of his employers' highly orchestrated mission, but it was nonetheless addictive. Qaad wondered if that's why men like him were chosen. Perhaps he was easier to break than most.

Facial recognition software accepted the old man, before beckoning him to enter the pod's cramped interior.

With a peak inside, Qaad reminded himself that the space wouldn't feel small for long. The inner arrangement was pre-configured to Qaad's gaunt body. One who is unfamiliar with the technology may be forgiven for confusing it with many hanging strings of decorative beads. Said "beads" were a sophisticated array of sensors, with each calibrated to translate Qaad's slow movements to fluid and youthful motions on the [i]other side[/i].

The machine buzzed angrily at his first attempt to enter. Ah, right. Qaad disrobed until he was in the complete nude. His clothes may have been rotten, but habit and a sense of order compelled him to fold them neatly, before placing them in a small bin next to the capsule. Satisfied, the capsule allowed the bare man to enter without complaint.

Darkness swallowed Qaad whole when the hatch sealed shut behind him with a hiss. Straps snaked out from the blackness to envelop and lift Qaad several inches from the pod's floor. No fear. Not like the first time. No, he was many sessions removed from that experience.

Instead, the man exhaled softly, and remained calm as a cloth-like texture gently wrapped around his face. No fear.

Qaad blinked.

And showered in the light of an entirely different world.

[i]Fire Two.[/i]

More accurately, a luxurious, vibrant, and colorful hotel courtyard on the capital world of United Comity's prized planet: Fire Two. It always felt surreal to "inhabit" two places at once. Fire Two was many lightyears from Earth One, yet Qaad felt completely natural here. Well, perhaps that is a bit of a stretch. The TeleLummox pod's sensor globules did their best to translate the cool breeze and light vapor that gently massaged his new form's chassis to sensations Qaad's skin could understand, but it still felt a bit [i]off[/i] somehow. Minor idiosyncrasies one would only notice after a lifetime spent in human skin. Still, despite the imperfection of the robot's simulated senses, the man appreciated the courtyard's atmosphere. Quite a far cry from Earth One's oppressive heat.

Qaad instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes from the flood of light, but the appendage that entered his frame of view was not a human hand.

No fear.

With feather-light steps, Qaad approached a small pond near the corner of the enclosed garden. The pristine, barely perturbed fluid exhibited a mirror-like surface that offered a reflective view of the ringed moons dotting Fire Two's bright blue sky. That, and a single lonely figure.

Qaad stared down into the reflection. A robot stared back.

The Telerobotic Cast Lummox -- or TCL -- that Qaad controlled was high-end model. By design, TCLs did nothing to hide their robotic nature. They embraced it! Such a choice dually strutted the technological and artistic prowess of the TCL's designers, and eliminated the uncanny valley of realism that presented issues in early models. Furthermore, it eased fears of deception. There is no way to confuse a TCL with a flesh and blood being, nor lose sight of its purpose as a means of telepresence. Amusingly, it instead paved the way for an entirely different kind of deception. One that Qaad and his employer's missions relied on.

Qaad regarded his TCL's design in the reflection. The bipedal robot's gold and silver plating radiated brightly in the sun. In an effort to appeal to the beauty standards of multiple intelligent species, it borrowed artificial aspects from yoyoitans, humans, piwaatans, and even enimigoans. Radar plating near the TCL's cranium were symbolic of the enimigoan's dragon-like horns, while a quintet of thin, moderate length, segmented dull blades sprouted from the TCL's back to simultaneously allude to human hair and a yoyoitan tail. Despite the biological references, the synthetic nature of the TCL's construction was highlighted by its metallic and skeletal structure -- which also displayed the robot's inner mess of circuits and cables. However, extended plating near the thighs and upper body, while not exaggerated, did jut out just enough to give the TCL proportions that both humans and enimigoans would describe as feminine -- and perhaps even conventionally attractive. The paint job and strands of jewelry hanging off the robot body were Qaad's touch. This TCL's maintenance was a point of pride for the old man.

No! Not his TCL. [i]Her TCL[/i], Qaad reminded himself. Best to sink into his cover identity when controlling this robot. A slip of the proverbial tongue could result in dire consequences for his mission. And his life.

Jinette Jayo. Drill the name in. He is Jinette Jayo. [i]She[/i] is Jinette Jayo. She is the celebrity author Jinette Jayo.

Jinette, of course, didn't really exist. But Qaad's current target didn't know that, and if the mission was performed well, the target would never know. At least, not until the target was drained of all assets. Jinette would simply be gone by then. And the paper trail carefully constructed to lend credence to Jinette's existence? The [i]employer[/i] would burn it all down when Jinette was no longer needed.

Words played along the pond surface. Symbols only Qaad could detect through the TCL's interface. The mission briefing

His target? Billionaire politician Aaron Alovesh.

Qaad's mission? Same as usual. Seduce the lonely man as Jinette through the TCL. Gain his trust. Slowly drain him of Comity Cash under the promise of allowing Jinette to meet him. And when Aaron becomes suspicious?

Cut Aaron dry, and get away with his wealth.