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"It was a success, sir. Considering how poorly previous incursions on InCorp have gone, of course." The room was dark. Rooms where conspiracies are hatched are always dark, with flickering lights and a wealth of shadows. It was understandable, though, no one wants to plan subversion in a brightly lit room. The ambiance would be wrong, and the atmosphere wouldn't support the development of ideas. In a dark room, it's easy to stay gloomy, remember what you're fighting for. Make your plans in a brightly lit room and you run the risk of becoming accustomed to the status quo. The primary reason that the room was dark, though he was certain that it should be the secondary reason (ambiance is crucial), was because they didn't want it to be inviting. The room in question was, at one point in time, designed to be a bedroom. It occasionally served that purpose now, as exhausted Vassals would crash after a long assignment. To that end, the corner of the room was furnished with several cots. The rest of the room was all business. A wall of computers in the back, whose Lightglass monitors provided the majority of the light. A long table in the center, good for making plans on or holding meetings. Twelve chairs lined the table, though the meetings often hosted a packed room. A man at the end of the table, he sat with his hands on his forehead. The darkness of the room prevented his face from being seen, but his black hair with a silver streak was visible. He sighed audibly. "I have a headache, Jensen." He spoke slowly, rubbing his head gently. His voice, a friendly, if commanding, presence. "And I don't feel like reading your report. So if you could fill me in on the details of the operation, that would be splendid." Jensen, for whom ambiance was essential, got a kick out of simply being in the room. It was a thrill, to play hide and seek every day. He got a rush not just during assignments, but also while planning them. He took a seat at the far end of the table, folded his hands in front of him. [You're too into the chase.] I'm sure I won't find the chase as enticing once I finally get caught, Jensen thought, as he put the details he was about to relay in order. [I'm not certain we'll ever get caught.] Sooner or later, Jensen mused. "Early last night, we delivered a special package to InCorp HQ. A Thrall whose particular ability was division. We...uh...launched it into one of the upper floor windows. Normally, the building's automated defenses would have prevented the Thrall from approaching the building." "I see our contacts came through for us." The man in the shadows said. "Absolutely. They warned us about the defensive AI, the illegal defensive AI. Which is now being disassembled. If the AI had activated during the actual operation, it would've been a massacre. If the building's security had been activated, the Thrall wouldn't have been able to get in, and the AI wouldn't have been revealed. As I said, the night was a success." Jensen was proud of the operation. After all, it was his project. "And we can count on the regular security system being deactivated during our next operation?" "Yes sir, it will be just the same as yesterday. The only threat we will actually have to worry about is InCorp's security staff, and the Collars from the Registry." Jensen hated speaking of the Registry, and he despised the word Collar. Pact makers were Vassals, not Collars. 'Collar' was demeaning. [If you bring down the Registry, no one will chase you anymore.] I can live with that. Freedom trumps adrenaline. Jensen placed his fingers on the purple band around his neck. "People are far more manageable than machines, so that will do nicely." The man in the shadows leaned back, and Jensen hoped he looked pleased. "There is another thing, sir. The lockdown triggered by the AI trapped a large number of civilians. I know that some amount of collateral damage is acceptable, but it is better if we're not seen as terrorists." Jensen added, though he wished he had not. "InCorp employees are not collateral damage, Jensen, they are enemies." The man corrected. "Yes sir." Jensen begrudgingly agreed. "You sound uncertain. Why did you make a pact, Jensen?" "I became a Vassal for the freedom that it allows." "And if we allow the Registry to continue imprisoning our kind, whether subtly or overtly, then what freedom do we have?" "None, sir. Which is why I fight." Jensen nodded his head in agreement. [That, and the thrill of the hunt.] True, but it's easier just to agree with the Old Man. Otherwise I'm stuck here for an hour long lecture on what the Vassals are all about. Jensen didn't need a refresher course. He knew what they were fighting for. "You mustn't forget that, Jensen. Now, what became of the InCorp employees?" The man in the shadows crossed his hands on his lap, waiting for the rest of the story. The dim light thrown off by the computers were not bright enough to lift the blanket of shadows from the far side of the room where the man was sitting. There was no secret the shadows were hiding, the man had no desire to hide his face, he just preferred the darkness over the light. It was a sentiment Jensen agreed with. "A young Collar," he stuck out his tongue as if he had tasted something foul, "from the Registry took care of the problem. The AI was designed to lock the building down under the pretense that it was protecting senior staff members. So the kid did a burnout and...just destroyed our Thrall. Every bit of it." "Knowing InCorp," The man leaned forward again, apparently thinking hard now despite his headache, "the AI wasn't protecting people. It was protecting...investments. Money." "Which means that whatever it was guarding is worth more than every piece of equipment in that building, and every person that works there. What do you think it could be?" Jensen wondered aloud. [They're a weapons developer. What do you think it is?] A weapon, obviously. But what kind? "I won't begin to speculate. It is unimportant as of now. What is important is that whatever it is, is important to InCorp above all else. So we can expect them to redouble their efforts to protect it. We must be sure the security systems can be deactivated during the next operation. You must speak to our contact at InCorp. Convince them it is time to make a move." "Yes sir." Another thing to do, but Jensen didn't mind. Putting the pieces of a grand plan together was as exciting as executing the plan itself. In fact, he already had the perfect move in mind. And because it was in his mind, his Indicia was able to see it as well. [Do you think they're up for that?] They're ambitious, I think it won't be a problem at all. Jensen thought, and he tucked the idea away for later. "And what became of the boy?" The man in the shadows asked, not liking leaving threads loose. "The boy? Oh, the Collar who burned out. I haven't been able to get much yet. All I know is that he's not dead, somehow. I've got a meeting later today with a contact from the Registry. They'll be providing me with more information. I'll send you a report as soon as I find out." Jensen looked at the clock displayed on one of the Lightglass screens. "I should be going soon." "Jensen, please, call. You know I dislike reading, I'd much rather you call or tell me in person." The man waved his hands to let Jensen know he was free to leave. Jensen nodded and stood. "Yes sir. I'll call when I learn something." He turned and headed for the door. He opened it just a crack, to prevent the bright light from the other side from storming in. Slipping out, he made his way through the rest of the well lit household, through the mansion's grandiose wooden doorway, and out into the world at large.

As he went, he considered that there may come a time when his mentor didn't fit the plan anymore, and would have to be dealt with the same way as the Registry and InCorp. For now, the best place to be was right where he was. Sometimes, problems sorted themselves out, and with any luck, he wouldn't have to act at all. At the very least, if something went wrong, he wouldn't be the one to take a fall. The poor hated the rich already, and it was likely that the man in the shadows would someday become just another casualty of the cause. Acceptable collateral damage. He chuckled to himself as mischief danced in his eyes.

His lunch meeting with his Registry contact was at an outdoor cafe across the street from the window of his apartment. This served several useful purposes. He could wait in his apartment until the contact arrived, preventing him from having to wait and worry that he could be caught if the mole was discovered. It also kept him from having to travel too far for any given meeting, which was nice, because he disliked conventional travel. He found it to be dull. He wished he could use his magic more often, but that would risk being caught by the Registry, and then it was straight to lock up. No more freedom, no more magic, and no more Sev.

[That's so sweet.]

Jensen rolled his eyes. I just meant your body. He joked as he approached the door to his apartment.

He didn't have a key, he wasn't entirely sure if the door still opened. Luckily, that meant he didn't have to worry about bringing anyone home. It kept people at a distance, which was useful when you lived every day on the run from an evil registration organization.

He pressed his hand flat against the door and closed his eyes. Always closed his eyes. He knew better than to try and keep them open. As he focused, it felt as if the door was liquid, and he was able to force his way through it. His hand, his arm, then his upper body. He stepped through with little resistance. He didn't open his eyes until he was sure he was completely through. The apartment on the far side matched Jensen's sensibilities. Lightly decorated, dimly lit. A single room apartment with a small bathroom and a view of a cafe across the street.

A wall sized dresser, faux wood, stood in for a closet and held all of his clothes. His favorite article of clothing, of which he had purchased as many were available when he discovered it, was a black and silver jacket with a high collar that easily blocked view of his Vassal brand. Walking around with the brand showing wasn't too dangerous, but it might cause people to ask about the Registry, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fake it well enough. That, and the random ID checks. Come up short, and it's straight to jail. So it was easier to hide the brand with the jacket.

He opened the dressed to retrieve a jacket for lunch, and instead of a jacket, he found a rabbit with fur the color of a chestnut. The short creature pounced out at him, and as he stood almost a foot shorter than Jensen, the Vassal was able to catch him with relative ease. It was the rabbit's favored form, small enough to be picked up by Jensen, though it wasn't his only one. His long ears extended well past Jensen's head, though. Jensen's arms gripped under the rabbit's thighs, bringing them muzzle to face, chests pressed together.

Without speaking, the rabbit pressed his muzzle against Jensen's lips, and Jensen returned the kiss without resistance. His mouth opened, and the rabbit's tongue entered. It had been awhile since they'd been intimate, Jensen had been busy with work, and so the tongue tingled deliciously against the inside of his mouth. He inhaled deeply against the rabbit's scent, otherworldly, of grass and wind and sun. His own tongue tasted the same inside the rabbit's muzzle. They stood transfixed in each other for a matter of moments, tasting and smelling and feeling and being together.

Jensen felt a familiar hardness forming against his belly, from between the rabbit's legs. He stumbled back and his legs found the bed. Toppling over, he found the wickedly grinning rabbit atop him on the mattress. A glance down revealed the rabbit's intentions, his sheath showing more than a bit of pink.

The rabbit leaned down and the kissing continued, with no complaint from Jensen. The Vassal ran his hands through the rabbit's auburn fur, so soft, and he longed to press his whole body against it. Pulling the rabbit in close and holding their bodies together was one of the best ways to pass the time, a bliss that he was sure only he was aware of. For now, he settled for just his fingertips. The rabbit's claws raked gently over his exposed skin on his arms and neck. Most human lovers, male or female, failed to live up to Sev, lacking his fur and claws. Jensen had never been with another Indicia, however, and he often wondered if they provided the same transcendent experience.

"Hey, no thinking about other Indicia right now." Sev said as he pulled back from the kiss.

"I can't help it sometimes. There's so much variety in Indicia, it makes humans all seem so similar." Jensen admitted, and he tried to go back to kissing, but the rabbit leaned away.

"Then I should just set you up with one of my friends sometime." Sev said, pouting, as he started to climb off Jensen.

Not willing to let the rabbit go just yet, the Vassal pulled the rabbit forcibly back down to continue kissing. Sev put up no resistance. They smiled into each other, felt each other, became a sort of unique single being that could only be when a human and an Indicia joined. And joining was certainly on Sev's mind. His cock was still rigid, pressing against Jensen's belly, dripping a shiny stain onto the dark shirt. A paw wandered down Jensen's chest and belly, heading towards his belt.

Jensen grabbed the paw, kept it from undoing the buckle. "You know I don't have time, don't act like you don't know."

"I'm hoping to tempt you anyway." Sev grinned, rubbing his slick length against Jensen's shirt. Now he'd have to change clothes regardless.

"I have to keep an eye on the cafe. If you're in the middle of mounting me," Jensen smiled as the rabbit screwed up his face with pleasure at the thought, "or I'm mounting you, and the contact shows up, I won't have time to clean off." The rabbit's tongue lolled from the side of his muzzle as Jensen finished talking.

"I promise it'll be quick?" Sev pleaded, slipping his paws under Jensen's shirt, to feel his sleek body without fabric in the way.

Jensen sighed and enjoyed the paws on his skin, but had to intervene again when the paws made another move for his belt. "How about something else?" He said, and he placed his hands under Sev's armpits. Rather easily, he lifted Sev off of him and placed his aside on the bed.

The rabbit smiled, and leaned back against the pillows, already grabbing the sheets in his paws before anything was happening. Jensen rolled over and looked over the rabbit, looming over the smaller creature. He thought of Sev's other form, completely different, but appealing in its own way. Between the rabbit's legs, just above his puffy cotton tail, a modest sheath from which an alluring pink shaft stood. Here and now, he wasn't sure which form he preferred intimacy with.

He deliberately positioned himself so that he could see out the window as he worked. No sign of the contact at the cafe yet. He licked his lips and leaned down, looking up at the rabbit, loving the expressiveness of his muzzle as he twisted it with pleasure. First he simply nuzzled the rabbit's groin, brushing his face against the rabbit's thighs, his balls, and his sheath. He took in the rabbit's scent, which was stronger and smelled more male here than elsewhere. Sev closed his eyes and made faces which Jensen thought were funny, but were the result of the rabbit's enjoyment.

Before Jensen met Sev, he'd never been with a man before. Had no idea how to please a male, no idea that he'd want to. It had been girls all the time. And he was good at girls. From time to time, he wished there were female Indicia, but Sev was usually enough. When he formed his pact with Sev, everything changed. He'd realized that freedom could be enjoyed in almost any form. Pleasure, sex, wasn't about gender. It wasn't about what you were doing, or even who you were doing it with. It was about the experience. Since then, men and women were fair game, as long as the experience was enticing. But most humans fell short of Sev.

Jensen pressed his tongue against Sev's balls, he was used to getting a mouthful of fur by now, and licked slowly, sensually, magnificently upward from the balls, along the slick pink shaft, and up to the tip. Sev cooed as Jensen went, ending with a moan as his tongue passed over the most sensitive spot near the top. The taste was strong, and it covered the rabbit's shaft, rather than a human where it merely dripped from the tip. Not to say it didn't drip from the tip, however, and Jensen found more than a bit of the rabbit's pre on his tongue. He rolled it around and then went back down for more. He spent a while teasing the rabbit, licking and nuzzling, instead of sucking. He knew how to get Sev worked up, ready to get off, and he was trying to do it the most efficient way possible.

Another glance at the window, and the cafe was starting to get busier for lunch. He didn't see the contact yet. The rabbit was squirming around the bed pathetically, nearly whimpering for more. Jensen's hands played with the rabbit's balls as his tongue tortured the tip. And that's when he saw the contact sitting down at the cafe. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth and engulfed Sev's length in its warmth. Given the teasing before hand, he knew it wouldn't be long until Sev was satisfied. He worked the rabbit's balls in his hand, maybe harder than he should've, but that only made the rabbit hotter, and wrapped his tongue around the cock as he moved his head up and down swiftly.

Sev was twitching now, legs kicking out harmlessly into the air, hands desperately holding onto the bed sheets. He groaned, eyes closed, and Jensen looked up again to take in the rabbit's visage. It made Jensen happy to see someone so free, enjoying pleasure so base and primal, so natural. It was everything that Jensen was fighting for. He felt the rabbit's length twitch a few times in his mouth, and he plunged it as deep into his throat as he could. The rabbit cried out as he came, his seed jetting into the back of Jensen's mouth, who swallowed it quickly, eagerly. His enthusiasm mostly had to do with getting to the cafe meeting on time. Otherwise, he would have let it go on longer, he would've let the rabbit cum in his mouth, and then they would've kissed again for awhile until one of them got frisky enough to mount the other, or they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Jensen licked his lips and grinned at the rabbit lost in bliss. He left the creature to his afterglow as he changed his shirt and grabbed his jacket from the dresser. He glanced at Sev, still practically writhing on the bed, and decided it would be safe to leave him on his own. When he was done enjoying himself here, he would certainly rejoin Jensen in his head. With only the slightest regret that he was still hard, and wouldn't have time to get off, Jensen phased easily through his apartment door, and headed for the cafe.

Jensen and his contact were not friends. Though he assumed they shared similar ideals, they couldn't be friends, as a matter of necessity. In a different life, Jensen thought he could be friends with the Registry Collar. But the fact remained that they were on different sides of a war, officially. He admired the Collar, brave enough to stand up to the Registry, and deliver information and intel to the Vassals. But they were not friends.

And as they were not friends, they didn't use their real names. If one or the other got caught, they wouldn't be able to point fingers if they didn't know real names. With the age of information bringing so much data to their fingertips with computers and LINK devices, they could probably have searched for and found real information on each other simply by looking for it. But neither one wanted to, as it risked messing up what was a beautiful set up.

What could be a more beautiful setup than trading money for information? Jensen placed a small card on the table as he sat down. "I'll pay for lunch." He offered amicably, "Order whatever you'd like."

"I'm not feeling too hungry." The contact admitted, though he did look at the menu.

"I hope everything is okay." Jensen said, though he didn't hope everything was okay at the Registry.

"Just this whole burnout fiasco." The contact said with a sigh. He was large, golden hair and sapphire eyes with a piercing gaze. Quite different from Jensen's sleek build, brown hair, brown eyes.

"It must be a complete mess." Jensen nodded, trying to speak in things that were true, rather than fake sympathy.

"I know you did what you had to do, but I wish I knew why. The burnout...it was..." He shook his head and trailed off. "Here." He handed Jensen a small memory card, and then pulled a folded envelope out of his jacket pocket.

Jensen tilted his head at the envelope. "What's this? Normally everything you give me is digital."

"I don't know exactly what it is. But it's from Director Canaan's office, so I figured you'd want it." He handed it to Jensen. The Vassal took it and put it away for later.

"Is there anything else you can tell me?" Jensen asked a few minute later, after they ordered drinks. "Anything going on in your personal life?"

The contact laughed and shook his head. "Just me and the ol' Indicia. Not many people want to date at Collar. But I still get enough action, anyway." He grinned and winked.

"As do I, my friend." Jensen smiled and thought of Sev, probably still on the bed across the street. "Come to think of it, what is your Indicia?"

"You know I can't tell you that. Too much personal information is dangerous, 'Jack'." The contact used Jensen's fake name to prove a point.

For a second, Jensen had considered asking the contact if he could have a quick romp with his Indicia, since he was still interested in what it would be like. But the contact was right. He didn't tell him about Sev, and he had no right to ask after the same information from the other. Maybe another time.

For the rest of the meal, they chatted about mundane things, trivialities, things that weren't pieces in Jensen's grand puzzle. It was enough to pass the time, but hardly interesting. They needed to stay for a whole meal, to avoid drawing attention. As the meeting came to a close, Jensen slid his card across the table to the contact. "As I said, lunch is on me."

The contact took the card and smiled. "I'll pay, if you want to get going."

"Of course, I've got places to be." Jensen said, standing up, leaving the contact with far more money than was needed to pay for a cafe lunch.

The InCorp building was one of the city's landmarks, alongside the Registry tower. Jensen disliked them both, but he found the InCorp building the less off putting of the two. Both the Registry and InCorp needed constant surveillance. Running the network of Vassals was more work than just planning subversive operations. There were plenty of Vassals who didn't want to be a part of the fight, and they all needed somewhere to go. Most families would ship a teenager to the Registry to moment they became a Collar, desperate to avoid the possible penalties for being caught housing an unregistered individual.

Most Vassals weren't like Jensen, they wanted to keep quiet. The idea of reporting their everyday lives to a government run organization wasn't their idea of a good time, but that didn't mean they were up for revolution. The Vassals were a community that needed to stick together, and this comprised the majority of Jensen's responsibilities. Operations against InCorp or the Registry were uncommon. If they ran too many, it was possible they would turn the ire of both organizations against them. The main purpose of most of their missions was to keep InCorp and the Registry at each other's throats.

The most common work Jensen did was to help hide Vassals. He didn't just help them find a place to live, he also gave them a place to relax. A nondescript metal door in an alley only two blocks from the InCorp building led into an establishment with no official name. It was affectionately called The Pub. An intercom hidden by the door would prompt visitors for a password, but Jensen was uniquely able to ignore this. He made sure no one was around, and phased quickly through the door.

Stairs on the other side led down, into a dark room that was modeled after an old fashioned pub. Jensen called out to announce his presence, otherwise he might have gotten shot by the bartender. Patrons of the Pub were jumpy, the last thing they wanted was a Registry raid, and Jensen was the only person who could get in without using the intercom. Jensen received an unintelligible and none too polite reply, and knew it was safe to descend the stairs.

The mood inside was relaxed, but bordered in brooding. The bar had no windows, being in the basement, but Lightglass fixtures were set up to mimic natural light. Thick smoke swirled and danced, following the whim of the room. Jensen took a deep breath and held it in for a moment before letting it go. He scanned the room for whoever was smoking, but it was almost everyone. In the back, a large Vassal was playing billiards with a massive brown bear. Nearby, another Vassal and some sort of weasel were playing darts. Jensen sat at the bar and waved at the other Vassals as they nodded at him.

He ordered a drink and sipped it slowly. The intel he had gotten from his contact sat safely in his pocket, and though he said he would send a report as soon as possible, he wanted to relax first. He took his drink over to a corner booth and slid all the way in.

"Hey, Pudge." He called to the Vassal playing pool.

The large man carefully took his shot before stomping over to Jensen's table. He took a seat on the edge of the booth. "What is it, boss?"

"Any sign of new runaways or NRs?" NRs, or non-registers, were people who had come into their Indicia through unusual means. The most common were Registry runaways, who didn't realize what they were getting into when they signed up. There were other ways to become a Vassal, however. Finding an inactive totem, or simply falling through the cracks. His ability to walk through walls had given Jensen an awareness of the fragility of the world. Sometimes, there were just cracks. If you end up in the spirit world against your own will, the only way home is by making a pact with an Indicia. Should someone be forced to live the rest of their life under the watchful eye of the Registry for that?

But by far the most common were runaways. Runaways had to be treated with care, as they might be spies sent by the Registry to infiltrate the community. It had happened before, but it wasn't common. It was Jensen's job to make sure that Vassals, runaways included, didn't get caught, and help them to settle into their new lives.

Jensen watched Pudge's billiards opponent, the bear, cheat by moving the cue ball behind Pudge's back. He said nothing.

"Nothing since the kid last week, and you know the Registry got to him before us." Pudge said with a shrug. "What can ya do?"

"I wish we could have gotten to him sooner." Jensen mused.

[Win some, lose some.]

Ah, you've returned. Had a nice nap? Jensen teased the rabbit.

[Would've been nicer if I wasn't by myself...]

The sacrifices we make to save the world. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head at the rabbit. "Keep an eye out, Pudge. Ever vigilant. Everyone we miss is another piece on the opponent's board."

"You know me, Jensen. I don't miss a thing." Pudge smiled, unaware of the cheating bear behind his back.

"No, you certainly don't." Jensen patted Pudge on the shoulder and let the large Vassal return to his game, one which he would now surely lose.

If you take your eyes off the board, you're giving your opponent the right to cheat.

[That's not fair.]

Fair hasn't got a thing to do with it, Sev. Jensen watched as the pair resumed playing.

Sev materialized next to Jensen, grabbed his drink and polished it off. "So you should cheat first, before your enemy has a chance to."

"If they give you the chance." Jensen scowled at his empty cup, glanced pointedly at the rabbit, and ordered two more drinks.

"Speaking of cheating, you sure are letting your mind wander today..." Sev trailed off as the new drinks arrived.

"What are you talking about?" Jensen feigned ignorance, but he knew what Sev was about to say.

"You've been thinking about other Indicia all day. First at lunch, and now that bear over there." The rabbit narrowed his eyes jealously at the ursine.

Jensen couldn't argue, it was true. He grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just curious. Besides, I took care of you, didn't I?" He ruffled the rabbit's ears.

"If you want me to set you up with someone," Sev started, leaning over to brush his whiskers against Jensen's ear, "just say the word. If it'll end your curiosity, I don't mind."

Jensen mulled it over, and he didn't have to answer. Sev knew what the response would be, perhaps even before Jensen did. They sat together with their drinks, watching a one sided game of pool, comfortable in each other's company.

Back in his apartment, it was time to get to work on his newly acquired intel. Sitting on the bed, Jensen slipped his LINK off his wrist and scanned the memory card into its database. Then he placed the memory card on the ground, and he closed his eyes as he pressed his finger tip against it. Slowly, the memory card started to phase through the floor, but before his finger touched the ground, he pulled back, leaving the memory card lost in a frightening limbo, the world unsure of how to make the floor and the card coexist. Thinking about it sent a chill down Jensen's back, and so he pushed it from his mind.

The information on the memory card, now on Jensen's LINK, was important and helpful, and he would have to go through it in depth later. But first, the envelope called out to him from his jacket pocket. He slipped out and looked at it, as if trying to discern its contents without opening it. Eventually he gave in and unfolded it, sliding the folder it contained out. The label on the folder made his heart skip a beat, and the day suddenly took a turn he hadn't expected.

The label on the envelope read 'Jensen Stills'. If his contact had given him the envelope because he knew it concerned him, then that means they knew who he was. He was quickly tore the folder open, eager to see what it contained. A photograph, he wasn't sure where they had taken it, it looked like a mugshot or a Registry ID photo. He'd never registered, so that was impossible. Worse yet, a complete biography of his life so far. Where he was born, who his parents were, his current address, Sev...They knew everything.

He wasn't sure how they could've known, but the only thing he could think of was there was a leak in the Vassals. This made sense. There was a leak in InCorp, there was a leak in the Registry, naturally there could be a leak in the Vassals. But to have a complete biography of his life, the person would have had to have followed him around on a daily basis, stalking him. They would've had to live inside his head. He stopped. He felt cold. No, that was impossible. Sev couldn't be the problem. It was some other Vassal. Someone spying on him, reporting to the Registry.

He urgently needed to talk to his mentor. He could get his apartment relocated, change his name, this could still be saved. He didn't like to think that the grand plan was falling apart around him, that he would have to start from scratch. He did know that the next few days would be crucial. It eventually dawned on him that they hadn't arrested him yet, even though they knew exactly where he would be at any given time. This helped to calm him down. It was possible that the intel hadn't been looked over before it was stolen by his contact. Or maybe they were biding their time, waiting to tie him to a bigger scheme than the petty terrorism he was already guilty of.

"This isn't good." Sev said as he materialized next to Jensen. Naturally, he already had a full understanding of everything that Jensen had just looked at. No explanation necessary. "But it's a good point, they haven't arrested you yet."

"There has to be a reason. Maybe I should get in touch with the contact again. I need to ask him more about this." Jensen stared at the folder, trying to pretend that he didn't spend a second considering that it was Sev who betrayed him.

Sev apparently didn't mind. He picked up the folder and looked closer at its contents. "It's missing a lot of important details, though. Half of the jobs you've worked aren't even on here." The rabbit pointed out, scanning the biography, which was laid out in a timeline. "And there is a lot of unimportant stuff, too."

"Like what?" Jensen asked, leaning over to look at the timeline.

"Stuff about your life before you were a Vassal. Hobbies, what you got for your birthdays when you were a kid. Stuff that hasn't been relevant in decades." Sev handed the folder to Jensen.

The rabbit was right, for a Registry bio on him, it was far from complete, and it seemed to lack focus. It wasn't about his crimes. It was just about him. Who he was, from the day he was born until today. This creeped him out, but did soothe his more immediate worry. "They've been studying me. That's the only explanation."

"But who would bother? And why? For this much information, they'd have to have been studying you since you were a child." Sev shuddered visibly, and then dematerialized.

"I don't know. Maybe the Old Man knows more." Jensen looked at his LINK device on his wrist. The Old Man had never been one to share information, only take it. If he called to report about the meeting, and instead asked about this, would he be able to get anything out of him?

But if I am compromised, he'll take away my assignments. I have to be careful. If he takes me off the InCorp Op, then my plan is done for. Jensen sat down on the bed, he stared at the folder.

[So you can take the chance and ask. He might not tell you, or he might not know anything. Either way, you'd be giving up on everything on a gamble.]

I should put together a report on the kid who burned out. I need time to think about this. I can't start acting crazy because of one scare. I'll just get caught.

He put the folder down next to him and slipped his LINK off of his wrist. Trying to push the folder from his mind, he set to work on organizing the data on the burnout into a usable report. It was a lot of information, not all of it useful. The kid was named Isaac Walker, and somehow, he wasn't dead. He survived the burnout, but he was still in a coma. The doctors weren't sure if he'd make it. It had only been a day, too early to tell. He was an InCorp employee, interesting but not entirely useful. Some other stuff about his family, a settlement from InCorp for wrongful death. Jensen couldn't find anything particularly useful in the data. The kid was a hero, sure, but it would probably be his last heroic act. Either he'd die the next time he tried to pull off a stunt like this, or he would fade into obscurity like every other hero of the moment.

Jensen tossed the LINK onto the bed and looked over at his own folder again. He couldn't really keep his mind off it. Who would be able to? He wanted desperately to know where they had gotten the information. He sighed and shook his head. It wouldn't do any good to sit and wonder. He called the Old Man to report on Isaac. He refrained from mentioning the folder. It was too risky.

After the call, he found Sev sitting on the bed next to him. "You know, there is a way to find out more about that folder."

"I know." Jensen nodded, "But it could be just as risky as asking the Old Man."

The rabbit wrapped his arms around Jensen. "It's less risky if you're in control."

Jensen smiled, knowing Sev was right. They both knew the only place they were likely to find more about the folder from the Registry was from the Registry itself. Not satisfied with his LINK's database, Jensen decided he needed a better computer. He hid the folder under his mattress and phased through the door.

The Old Man's mansion, the Vassal's main base of operations, was located on the outskirts of town, one of the few homes bordering the great wall that surrounded the city. It was a great place to run a secret organization, because most people didn't like to go that close to the wall. Jensen also appreciated being as far from the gaudy centerpiece of the city, the Registry tower, as possible. There were rumors in the Vassals that there was even a secret passage from the mansion to the other side of the wall, but that was unlikely. The wall was there for a reason.

From time to time, Jensen liked to ride the monorail up towards the center of the city, just to get the view over the wall. Mountains and forests in the distance, concealing a hidden threat. Beautiful in their serenity, as long as they were viewed from a distance. To live outside the wall was nearly impossible, thanks to the Thralls. Jensen had a theory that Thralls were created by the Registry to keep the organization necessary, but he had no proof.

The Old Man lived in the mansion alone, though a large operational staff was needed to keep it in running order. Jensen didn't know if the staff was aware of what happened in the dim room where the Vassals worked, but if they weren't, he didn't know how they were kept from asking questions. A sufficiently large paycheck, he assumed. The man valued his anonymity, so he must be willing to pay for it. Even most Vassals were unaware of his real name, and thus used his code name, Old Man.

The Vassal's HQ was empty, which Jensen found accommodating. It would be a hassle to have to shoo someone away, but he needed access to a database that was on the Vassal intranet, and he needed to use this computer to do that. The computer was on when he got there, so he took a seat before it and stared at it for a minute, contemplating his options. Would it be worth it?

[Go for it. The worst that happens is you get a good chase out of it.]

If they catch me, my plans don't mean anything. My life doesn't mean anything.

[That's not true. You mean something to me.]

Jensen had been working for too long, had set up too much to lose it now. What he was about to do was a desperate measure, but he needed to do it. For himself, and for the cause of the Vassals. Pulling up the database of registered Collars, he started to scan through each ID photo. He was looking for his contact. If he could figure out his real name, he could track him down, find out more about the folder.

For what seemed like hours, he scanned through photos, and none seemed to match his contact. He wondered why the photos weren't sorted alphabetically, and was about to give up, when he came face to face with his contact. He looked the same in his photo as he had earlier that day. Largely built, with piercing blue eyes and blond hair. It was him, no question. Jensen sent the page to his LINK and powered down the database.

Now he had his contact's real name and address. He lived in a small house in lowtown. It was convenient that he didn't live in the Registry tower. Jensen planned to head there right away, and wait until he came home. It didn't matter how long it was. He made sure the computer was off before making his way out of the mansion.

The contact's name was Rufus Cross, and his Indicia was a tiger named Nanook. Jensen's interest was piqued, he wondered what it would be like with a tiger, instead of a rabbit.

[If the opportunity comes up, don't let me hold you back.]

He moved as quickly through the streets as he could, but for someone unfamiliar with Lowtown, getting around could take awhile. The alleys were lined with stairs leading to doors and rooftops, and it could take years to learn the proper routes through the buildings. LINK devices were only so much help with the ever shifting pathways made by the inhabitants of Lowtown. As the sun started to fall from the sky, he made it to Lowtown, but before he reached Rufus' house, he was brought to a stop. He turned a corner into an alley, following a map on his LINK. He looked up from the map to confirm the direction, and instead of seeing the alleyway, he saw a bat.

CRACK!

He didn't have time or focus to phase through it, and it smashed into his face with incredible force. Without knowing who had attacked him or why, his head snapped back and he fell to the ground. The world around him was spinning and his head was throbbing so hard he thought he was still being hit with the bat. He felt hands on him, wasn't sure what they were doing. Something warm running down his face, the metallic taste on his lips was revolting.

None of this was part of the grand plan. Everything was wrong. Someone else must have a plan, one he was a part of. He was in Sev's arms as the world around him faded away, along with the pain. Maybe he was just acceptable collateral damage, just a piece of someone else's puzzle, a pawn in someone else's game.