Where Shiva and Falcor meet for the first time

He didn't look up from his files right away. Something seemed to be tickling at the back of his mind. Some thread he was missing, some pattern that he was failing to catch. No one had taken an interest in this particular conundrum just yet, except for IA, who were always sticking their noses in to make sure everyone else's noses were clean.

"Look, if you're with Internal Affairs, I filed my weekly report, and there's nothing more to say about what's going on then what I-"

A soft laugh brought his attention up from his files, grey eyes catching sight of the black clad young woman.

"I am not with Internal Affairs, Detective Falcor." She spoke quietly, but there was a certain brittleness in her words. "I am as far from your internal affairs as it gets."

She moved toward his desk with slow, deliberate motions. With equally intent, she reached across his computer, flicking on his scanner and swiping her wrist as she had down stairs. A series of taps across his keys brought up a slightly more in depth file. But not by much. It included her government clearance (more than he'd ever expect to see, let alone have) and little else, but it was enough to tell him that she not only had the right to be here and stick her nose in as she saw fit, but that she could bounce his ass from this case in a heartbeat if she wanted to.

Shiva remained half perching on the edge of his desk as he read and reread the sparse glowing words on the screen in front of him. She took the drawn out moment to study him, filling in what she knew about him from his files.

At 32 he was seven years older than she was. Dark brown hair was prematurely shot with grey, some unfortunate combination of stress and genetics. Ex-military, but even if his file hadn't mentioned that, she would have spotted him. There were small things about the Imperial military that even a decade of civilian life couldn't completely wash away.

More than his appearance, she knew more about him than probably most of his 'brothers' did. If things had gone differently for him, he might have been in her place, cutting the floor out from under some police schmuck rather than having it done to him. He'd washed out of Spectre special training early in his career, but due to a bum leg, rather than any mental deficiency on his part. The leg wasn't even his fault really, but a cybernetic replacement limb was an automatic drop from the program. Too much of a hazard. A near miss from any electromagnetic weapon could cause a stutter in the machinery. A stutter that perhaps would last less than half a second, but in the Special Forces, it was enough to make all of the difference.

She knew all of his test scores, and knew that had it not been for the cybernetic leg, he would have done well. Well enough to have been recommended for training in the next level of the department.

Project Wraith.

The same project name that he was now staring at with slightly accusatory eyes as if the words were a personal affront. Perhaps they were. Project Wraith was something slightly more than rumor, slightly less than recorded fact. The details to the public were nonexistent. The details to those within the military were sketchy at best. It had only been in the beginning phases when he'd washed out of the program. If things had gone differently, he might have been one of the first.

She reminded herself to be hyper aware of that fact while dealing with this man. Especially as he turned that grey stare back at her.

"I'll need to know everything you know about Centura, Detective." She paused for a heart beat. "Including everything you *didn't* put in the paperwork you handed over to IF."