The VI's automatic prioritization system triaged the security solution and transit request into a single meeting. Your meeting with Ms. Scipio was done via comms while you set off in an aerotaxi to the lower ward. No tail or guards, but the personal attention of the corporation's head of security every step of the way. Sometimes the VI did something [i]right[/i].

You had a full copy of Ms. Scipio's profile on hand and it was not what you expected. She was a personal pick from Mrs. Everest, and her pedigree was not in corporate security, infowar, covert operations or any of the other classical backgrounds that typically mark corporate security leaders. She was an [i]Admiral[/i]. A combat veteran of the French Navy during the Red Decades, before its integration into the PanOceanian State. She had, notably, been present at the Battle of Corsica, one of the most iconic moments of the Red Decades. Somewhere between mutiny, coup, civil war and malfunction of an integrated battle management system, the Battle of Corsica had seen the French fleet open fire upon itself. Nobody was fully clear as to what had happened or what the political motivations of the parties involved. All the key figures had died.

Except for Ms. Scipio.

Your initial read on her was that this was not someone ashamed of her military service. She wore her suit like a uniform and her bearing was used to command rather than debate. She would not make it in this role if she was not Mrs. Everest's creature - and you suspect that the two get along very well - simply because someone like this needs a patron to maintain their position. The exact dynamic of their relationship is a mystery, but given the depths of Everest's political interplay with the State it could be anything.

"Ms. Kade," said Ms. Scipio. She held herself in readiness after that - that naval bearing at play, treating you as a superior officer, waiting to hear your orders.