“Please let me go.” Freyr sobbed, wrestling her head out from under her guard’s vice-like grip. “Are you hurt?” He shouted in her ear. “[b]You[/b] are hurting me! Let me go!” She pleaded as they passed through the big automated doors into the complex. He released her head, but still held onto her arm with his off-hand.

They were in the brightly lit lobby of the research vertical which contained her division’s physical headquarters. It was a home away from home for many people Freyr worked with, and she had some happy memories here. There were labs, supply stores and dormitories, along with state of the art training facilities for Cradle adepts.

“That little shit!” 595 growled as the doors closed and locked behind them. She turned to the CraSec sergeant. “Ok, change of plan Sergeant Thrace. Take them to the accommodation and lock down that floor. No one in or out without me saying so, understood?” The man nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” 595 then turned to the leader of the plain clothes security who had been waiting for them.

“Are you in touch with the Vault?”

“We have a hardline open. Through there.”

“Get a sitrep from them, tell them we’ll be delayed. Then find out where that blast was.” 595 ordered, before turning back to the assembled civilians.

“Everyone OK? Just a precaution, but I want you to follow Sergeant Thrace into the facility until we get the all-clear, alright?”