Falcor knew that security clearance like that wasn't just given to anyone! She had to be a wraith...in that second Falcor hated the woman in front of him for no reason except who she was - who he wasn't.

"Of course..."

He pulled up the file. It was fairly innocuous, dates of hits, roughly one a month for the last year. Imperial Ships, Corporate Sector Authority, Varba Enclave...everything that traded through here got hit. It had a few notes, one that had raised many an eyebrow.

++

16 Jan S Falcor - Finally secured security cameras from "St. Albans Eatery" parking lot a couple blocks away. You can see the Ivinel in the distance...not much detail, but its what I've got. At 1513 hours on the 13th the camera seems to stop working inexplicibly. The time still ticks by, but everyone on the dock seems to freeze in place for 8 minutes...no visible movement at all. Stupid techs.

++

The file also contained afadavits, interviews, photos and image-scans of the manifests...the paper trail was the skeleton upon which any good case was built. That was the problem, as Falcor notes repeatedly in his personal comments, with the Centura case...the culprits were perfect at keeping themselves off paper, it was like they were able to erase every record of thier existence. There wasn't even a way to trace the crates back, or compile a likely motive from thier contents.

"There's more" Xyra added in a cold tone. She'd seen this file already. Hopefully Falcor hadn't put the puzzle together yet.

"Yea, there is. You're going to think I'm crazy." "You'd be surprised" was all Xyra responded with.

"I think they are psychics. But like, some kind of techno-mage. I can't explain it, but I know mystics can do some pretty crazy stuff. I've never heard of techno-mages, so maybe they don't exist, or maybe this Centura...whether its a group or just one man...person...maybe he's the first?"

He looked concerned, but passionate. He believed what he was saying, even if the evidence trail was long dead. "You know what else I think?" Jay was on a roll, she hadn't shut him up yet, there may be some truth to it. "I think the camera was working perfectly, and we all lost 8 minutes of our lives while he...or they...were in that ship...just standing there. I havn't fallen asleep on a stakeout in 10 years."

Jay sat there, ready to hear her call him crazy. For her to tell him that psykers were limited to electromagnetic or telekinetic powers, like the news media mis-informed the public. He was ready for her to tell him that this was now a Wraith case (which would have at least let him know he was onto something. Edging in the right direction, if not on the nose).

Jay pretty much sat there ready to hear anything...

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."

The elderly man proffered a hand, asking for Identification. The spry girl extended her wrist, and he scanned her bar-code. When the screen came up mostly blank with Top Secret written in bold letters up top he knew to let her pass.

"Uh...third floor, Special Crimes Unit, room 303. Who are you?"

"Special" was all she responded with a faint hint of a smirk.

____

Detective Jason Falcor's office was like every other one in the bureau of Special Crimes - full of files and thoroughly lived in. The faded upholstery, dusty window shades and collection of Caf mugs told a tale of late hours and many nights asleep on the couch. The sofa wasn't for sitting.

Falcor did manage to keep his office well dusted, and the files were at least stacked in neat, organized piles. It was tastefully, if busily decorated.

Falcor was reading over a file, Centura, about some kind of organized psionic crime ring. They'd hit a couple of cargo ships, only ever taking one or two boxes and never killing anyone. What frustrated Jay was that the internal sensors couldn't register the psions, camera's went fuzzy at exactly the wrong time, and the shipping manifests always neglected to mention the contents of the crates.

Normally this thing would go to Commercial Affairs and that'd be it, but the directorate had sent it to SCU because of the funky computer tricks. Falcor hated computers, he could use them okay, but it was always better to talk with a person, you could learn people's ticks and desires - get them to play to your fiddle. Computers never flinched.

As he was about to put the file down, sigh again, and grab some more Caf he heard a curt knock on the door *rap rap rap*

"Detective? I'd like a word with you.

Its about Centura"

***

Hajimaru: Raveling

"Sir, you won't be disappointed sir."

The dark eyes of Major Cornet turned from the glowing console back to the petite woman who had just spoken standing stiffly on the other side of the desk. He studied her for a long moment, trying to push down whatever doubts he might have in sending her on this mission. Special Agent Shiva was one of the least typical members of the soldiers under his command. At barely 5'2'', she was slender with short, spiky blonde hair. With a heart shaped face and generally unassuming demeanour, she was not what someone might think of when the phrase 'military special forces,' was mentioned. But one look into the sharply intelligent hazel eyes told a different story. He frowned slightly, but she didn't react at all. She seldom did. Shiva was, in some ways, the perfect soldier. Bright, obedient, and most of all, deadly. But sometimes, mostly at moments like this, he wished that she was more, or maybe less, than that. A little more human. A little less..... Shiva.

But if that were the case, she would be utterly worthless to him.

"I know Captain. Work with the local law enforcement if you can, bypass them completely if you have to. They are already investigating the group, but I don't think they know just what they are messing with. I'll want a full report. Dismissed."

She nodded curtly, saluted smartly and headed silently out of his office. He watched her go, running a hand through short dark hair, just starting to grey at the temples. It bothered him, sometimes, to know that every time he made use of Shiva and her skills, he might be sending a woman to her death. A woman who's real name he didn't even know.


*****

Shiva grimaced as she paused outside of the local precinct office in the capital city Pax of the planet Parish. Two days had passed since her meeting with Major Cornet on the Imperium's primary planet of Teikoku. The trip in the small shuttle given over to her for use on this mission had been uneventful. But enough time to familiarize herself with the details of just why she was here.

Psi-deckers. Psionic net hackers with no technological limitations. Given enough time and talent, no system was safe from them. They weren't the only kind of mystics in the Imperium, nor were they necessarily the most frightening. But they were dangerous to the very basis of the Imperial Technocracy. Psions, hedge-mages, 'mancers; they were subhumans, few and far between on the planets within the Empire, but they were considered dangerous and volatile, seditious and a threat to the very peace and stability of trillions of lives.

Psi-deckers. A conclave of them were operating here on Parish. Though an outlying planet of the Imperium, it was set on a bustling trade lane. Goods from outside of the Imperium poured in, but then, so did trouble makers. Mystics were outlawed within the Technocracy, but it seemed as though little things like laws weren't about to stop them.

Dressed in plain, faded black fatigues, Shiva stepped in to the precinct office, mentally reviewing her files. A detective was already investigating the hackers, but the Imperial Intelligence seemed to think that he didn't really know what he was looking at. Not yet. It was only a matter of time of course before he figured out he was dealing with psions, if he hadn't already. It would be easier, for everyone involved, if he remained ignorant of the fact. If he already suspected.... well, she would worry about that when and if that problem arose.

The middle aged gentleman at the front desk looked up as she approached, eyebrows arching slightly, but otherwise making no comment until she spoke.

"I need to speak with the detective handling the 'Centura' case. Immediately."