/ Chapter 2 /
 
Beutraze tried to look calm as the wing ship docked with the factory platform. She straightened her tightly cut knee length skirt and fluffed the shoulder pads on the matching dress jacket in black. After pushing up her narrow non-corrective glasses she followed up the motion by stroking the rim of her hat for good luck, hoping it would work this time around. Her future at the Security Bjuro hinged on this little operation of hers. She was practically at the bottom of this year's Efficiency Rankings. Getting inspector Naxxel to follow her out here had not been easy but she needed a credible witness from central – someone who appreciated the type of results she was about to produce. 

Naxxel had been grumpy the whole trip and did not at all seem to enjoy being attached to an infamous security officer about to get bumped out of the organisation. Ultimately he had been forced to because the tracks Beutraze had laid down so far were reasonably believable.

Soon they would find that an unknown worker on Factory Platform 8790 was actually a data runner for the Black Conclave. As it happens the worker would be found dead – a case no one would even care to follow up on when it turned out to be a case of covert bullying. Perhaps only the Department of Production might care what worker constructs were up to. Since the Guardian robots weren't easy to manipulate without leaving a log, Beutraze had used the stick and carrot on one of the brown shirt workers for all of the local arrangements.

The classified data would turn out to be genuine – a Class A Imperial secret related to High Goblin derelicts. Beutraze had gotten her hands on that whopper via a series of fortunate events and arranged for a copy to be found on the platform. Later today a "Black Conclave extraction ship" would attempt a pickup but suddenly decide to abort and safely escape, never to be seen again. Preventing such a big secret from falling into the wrong hands would lead to a significant rise in the rankings for her, no doubt. With the worker dead and unable to comment, the case could be closed until Beutraze chose to develop it further. Maybe she'd even be ranked as Essential if she kept her wit.

She exited the ship once post-docking procedures completed and found that the platform's Guardians had herded all of the workers into the dock area. They now stood grouped and ready for inspection. Most were wearing basic olive green tops but a few sported brown or orange ones. Not all had socks or thigh highs. Beutraze wasn't all that familiar with – or even interested in – their dress code system though. Naxxel seemed to blush a bit seeing the light uniform of the workers, looking hesitant to run the data strip detector over all of the bodies present. However, Beutraze needed him to do it to keep things credible, so she ushered him on while she walked up and down the lines with a note pad, looking serious even though she was only scribbling nonsense and looking over the rim of her glasses. As Naxxel scanning efforts reached the midpoint she drew a breath.

– "Hold on Naxxel...", she voiced, getting Naxxel's attention, "One seem to be missing... there should be 164, and I'm only counting... 163!"

Naxxel swordlike eyebrows rose questioningly as Beutraze put on her most dramatic look.

– "Is that right? Let's do a head count. Form up into groups of ten.", he ordered the crowd of workers.

Soon there were 16 groups and a smaller one with just four.

– "Hmm, this looks like all to me... You must have lost count somewhere."

Beutraze had started to sweat, and not just because of the 25 degree heat. She shot a nervous glance at her useful brown shirt, who just stood there looking befuddled. The brownshirt didn't personally know Beutraze's face as an intermediary contact person had been used, then eliminated. Nor did Beutraze know the serial of the randomly picked target worker – it hadn't at all been important who it was as it would later be self evident. All Beutraze had needed to know was the face and serial of the brown shirt who she'd have to deal with during clean up.

Naxxel's mood was definitely deteriorating as now he had to re-scan everyone due to having lost his position following the grouping. 45 minutes later he had gone over everyone, with no results.

– "You're sure the data strip would be hidden in the clothes?"

– "Yes!", Beutraze half shouted, "My mole in the Black Conclave..."

– "Mole Schmole!", Naxxel hissed and waved the detector around wildly, "What am I supposed to do now? Scan the entire factory platform? Why am I even here? What a waste of time!"

Beutraze was about to suggest that they should keep the workers here and just search the quarters. She knew that the data strip had been placed hidden in a pair of the type U underpants, so she might be able to find them in one of the quarters and somewhat salvage the situation? But Naxxel was already at his limit. And if she kept the workers here then she wouldn't be able to discreetely talk in private with the brown shirt and get the serial of the target. Once she had that, or at least knew what went wrong… then... then-

It suddenly occurred to her that a Class A document was on the loose. Regardless of what Naxxel did she would need to find it, definitely definitely need to find it, even if she had to remain here and scan every square inch. How could this happen? Was someone plotting against her?
 
/ End of Chapter /