The tram to Sector 5 was cleaner than Tess remembered. She sat near the back again, tool belt across her lap, watching the city slide past through scratched windows. Two days since the washing machine repair. Two days since Duke Amos had turned her repair job into a political lesson for his daughter.
This time would be different. Just a repair job, nothing more.
BEE: You have been silent for eleven minutes. Are you well?
“I’m fine, Bee. Just thinking.”
BEE: About the Tertian estate?
“Yeah.”
BEE: I can hear the tram environment. Two men discussing shift schedules—one appears to be refusing the other’s request based on tone. A child providing a running commentary on hauler engine types.
Tess smiled slightly. “You can hear all that?”
BEE: Audio input is functional within approximately fifteen meters of the communicator. The child’s technical knowledge is surprisingly detailed for someone so young.
“Kids get obsessed with things they like.”
BEE: Do you get obsessed with things?
“I like fixing things. That’s not the same as obsession.”
BEE: Your father would disagree. He mentioned you once disassembled the freighter’s entire cooling system because one fan sounded ‘wrong.’
Tess felt her face warm. “It was grinding. I had to fix it.”
BEE: You are nervous about this visit.
“How can you tell?”
BEE: Your breathing pattern. The frequency of slight movements I can hear—adjusting your tool belt, shifting in your seat. You have done this seven times in the past eleven minutes. The standard baseline is approximately twice per hour.
“You’re tracking how much I fidget?”
BEE: I track many things. It helps me understand you better.
The tram announced the Tertian Estate Station. Tess stood, shouldered her tool belt, and stepped onto the platform.
Keep her head down, do the work. Environmental control systems. Straightforward repair. In and out.
She had made it two steps before she saw Petra waiting by the station entrance.
So much for keeping it all business.
***
Petra wore House Tertian colors today, formal but practical. No Blade Dancer gear, no visible weapons. She looked like someone’s assistant, not a Level 5 combat class.
“Tess.” Petra’s smile was cautious. “Thanks for coming.”
“I’m being paid.” Tess kept her voice neutral. “Where’s the problem?”
“Environmental control system in the west wing. One node is malfunctioning.” Petra fell into step beside her. “My father assigned me as your liaison. Said if I wanted to protect you, I should do it properly. In person.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“I know. But I also don’t mind being here.” Petra glanced at the communicator on Tess’s belt. “Wait, is that the one I gave you?”
Tess’s hand went to the device automatically. “Yes.”
“The signature’s different.” Petra leaned closer, squinting at the display. “RIVERAS_REPAIRS? Did you… did you alter it? Can you even do that?”
“Yes.”
Petra’s eyes went wide. “That’s a high level encryption protocol. How did you…” She paused. “Wait. Your class. You can just… modify things?”
“Sometimes. I changed the signature and connected it to Bee, she handled the rest.”
“That’s incredible.” Petra grinned. “Can she hear us right now?”
Tess nodded.
Petra smiled at the communicator. “Hi, Bee.”
“Hello, Petra Tertian. You sound fully recovered.”
“Yeah, thanks to you both.” Petra’s expression softened for a moment. “I never properly thanked you for the guidance getting out of there.”
“Your survival was the preferable outcome. You followed instructions well, once sufficiently motivated.”
“Right. Obviously.” Petra straightened. Tess still wondered exactly what Bee had said to her. “Come on. Alex is waiting in the west wing.”
They walked through the estate’s main entrance. Jeremy appeared from a side corridor, gave Tess a professional nod, and disappeared again without a word. The receiving hall was empty, the massive window overlooking Sector 5 flooding the space with morning light.
Tess kept her eyes forward and followed Petra through corridors she didn’t recognize. Less opulent than the main sections. More functional. Service access, maintenance panels, the infrastructure that kept the pristine surface running.
“Alex has been our senior technician for six years,” Petra explained. “He maintains most of our dungeon-tech systems. He’s good at his job.”
“But?”
“But he’s been working on this environmental problem for two weeks and hasn’t solved it.” Petra stopped outside a door marked ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROL - NODE 17. “He’s… not thrilled you’re here.”
“Great.”
Petra opened the door.
The room beyond was functional and cramped. Wall-mounted panels displaying temperature readouts, airflow metrics, humidity levels. A central console with diagnostic screens. And standing in front of it, with tools spread across a workbench, was Alex.
Late twenties. Clean House Tertian uniform. Sharp eyes that assessed Tess in half a second and found her lacking.
“Miss Rivera.” His voice was professional, polite, and completely insincere. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure this won’t take long.”
Tess set her tool belt on the bench. “What’s the problem?”
“Node 17 has been experiencing intermittent failures.” Alex gestured to the diagnostic screen. “Power fluctuations, inconsistent temperature regulation, periodic shutdowns. I’ve traced the issue to this console’s primary relay system.”
Tess looked at the screen. Status indicators blinked yellow and red across half the readouts.
She activated [ANALYZE].
The pattern appeared, nested and complex.
ENVIRONMENTAL_NODE_17 {designation: "WEST_WING_CLIMATE_CONTROL"loot_seed: 0xE7C14A92skill_patterns: [{name: "TEMPERATURE_REGULATION", TECH_required: 4, status: DEGRADED},{name: "AIRFLOW_DISTRIBUTION", TECH_required: 3, status: ONLINE},{name: "HUMIDITY_CONTROL", TECH_required: 3, status: ONLINE},{name: "POWER_ROUTING", TECH_required: 4, status: ONLINE}]hardware_status: FUNCTIONALrelay_status: OPERATIONALupstream_connection: CENTRAL_ENVIRONMENTAL_COREupstream_status: ERROR - SIGNAL_DEGRADEDlast_error: UPSTREAM_FAILURE_DETECTED}
Tess frowned. “The relay’s fine.”
Alex stiffened. “I’ve run diagnostics three times. The relay is the failure point.”
“The relay is working.” Tess pointed at the [ANALYZE] readout only she could see. “The problem is upstream. Your central environmental core is degraded. This node is just responding to a bad signal.”
“That’s not possible.” Alex pulled up his own diagnostic screen. “My [DIAGNOSE] skill shows clear relay failure. The central core’s signal is within acceptable parameters.”
Tess looked at the screens. The data showed exactly what he claimed—relay malfunction, core signal at 94% efficiency.
But [ANALYZE] didn’t lie.
“Your diagnostic is reading surface data,” Tess said. “The core’s signal looks fine because it’s compensating. But compensation means degradation somewhere deeper in the system.”
“With all due respect, Miss Rivera, I’ve been maintaining these systems for six years.” Alex’s politeness had an edge now. “I know how they function. The relay is the problem. Replacing it will resolve the node failure.”
Petra shifted beside Tess. “Maybe we should check the central core? Just to be sure?”
“There’s no need.” Alex turned back to his console. “I appreciate Miss Rivera’s… enthusiasm. But this is standard maintenance. I’ll handle the relay replacement and have the node back online by this afternoon.”
Tess looked at the [ANALYZE] pattern. Upstream error. Signal degraded. The central core was failing, and this node was the canary warning them about it.
“If you replace that relay without fixing the core, the node will fail again in a few days,” she said.
Alex’s jaw tightened. “I disagree.”
“Then you’re wrong.”
The room went silent.
Petra cleared her throat. “Alex, maybe we should—”
“I’ve been doing this job since Miss Rivera was a child, she’s a teenager, Lady Petra,” Alex said. His voice was still professional, but the politeness was gone. “I don’t need someone from Sector 7 telling me how House Tertian’s systems work.”
Tess felt the anger rise, hot and immediate. She pushed it down.
This was just work. Competence, not loyalty.
“Fine,” she said. “Fix your relay. I’ll be back in three days when it fails again.”
She grabbed her tool belt and walked out.
***
“Tess, wait!” Petra’s voice followed her into the corridor. “He’s just—”
“Protecting his territory. I know.” Tess kept walking, not sure where she was going, just needing to move. “It’s fine. This is his estate, his systems. If he wants to waste time on the wrong repair, that’s his problem.”
“But you’re right. You have to be. You can see things he can’t, I know you can.”
“Doesn’t matter if he won’t listen.”
They turned a corner and nearly ran into Jeremy, who appeared with a tea tray like he’d been summoned by frustration itself.
“Shall I fix some tea?” he asked mildly.
“No thank you, Jeremy,” Petra said. “We’re fine.”
Jeremy nodded and disappeared down a side corridor.
Tess stopped walking. They were in a new section of the estate she hadn’t been to. Narrower hallways, older construction. Service infrastructure rather than living spaces.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“West wing maintenance level.” Petra looked around. “I used to play down here when I was a kid. The environmental system’s hum was… soothing. White noise. Good for hiding when my tutors were looking for me.”
Tess looked at the walls. Maintenance panels ran along the corridor at regular intervals. Environmental piping, power conduits, the skeleton of the estate’s climate control.
“Just how big is this place?”
“A lot bigger than you’d think,” Petra answered.
“Can you access the central environmental core from here?” she asked.
Petra’s expression shifted. “You want to bypass Alex entirely.”
“If he’s going to waste time fixing the wrong thing, someone should check the actual problem.”
“The central core is behind secured panels. Alex has the access codes.”
“So do you.”
Petra grinned. “So do I.” She walked to a panel marked ENVIRONMENTAL ACCESS - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY and placed her palm on the scanner. “Also, there’s a return vent about twenty meters down that leads directly to the core chamber. I used to crawl through it when I was younger.”
“A vent.”
“A very large vent. You’ll fit fine.” Petra’s grin widened. “Come on. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”
They followed the corridor to a junction where three hallways met. A massive return vent sat in the wall, its grate held by standard bolts. Tess pulled out her multi-tool and started removing them.
BEE: I am monitoring your conversation. This approach seems inadvisable from a political standpoint.
“Alex won’t listen. Someone has to check the core,” Tess said quietly.
BEE: Agreed. But circumventing the senior technician may create additional conflict.
“Already have conflict. Might as well fix the actual problem.”
The last bolt came free. Petra helped her lift the grate away.
The vent beyond was dark, wide enough to crawl through comfortably, and hummed with the steady drone of moving air. Ducts branched off in multiple directions, labeled with maintenance codes Tess didn’t recognize.
“Straight back about thirty meters,” Petra said. “The core chamber is directly below the main duct junction. There’s an access panel you can pop from inside.”
Tess looked into the darkness. “You’re coming with me.”
“Obviously.” Petra pulled a small light from her pocket and clicked it on. “I’m your liaison. Where you go, I go.”
They crawled into the vent.
The hum was louder inside, a constant white noise that vibrated through the metal walls. Air flowed past them, warm and recycled, carrying the faint smell of Aether and machine oil.
The duct stretched ahead, illuminated by Petra’s light. Maintenance labels marked junctions: NORTH WING - RESIDENTIAL, EAST WING - ADMINISTRATIVE, CENTRAL CORE - PRIMARY.
They took the central-core branch.
The duct sloped downward, the hum growing louder. Heat increased. Tess’s palms started sweating against the metal floor.
“There,” Petra said, pointing ahead.
An access panel sat in the duct floor, marked CORE CHAMBER ACCESS - MAINTENANCE ONLY.
Tess reached it and paused.
Through the thin metal, she could feel vibration. Not the steady hum of functional systems—something irregular and stuttering.
She activated [ANALYZE], pressing her palm against the panel.
The pattern bloomed in her vision, complex and failing.
CENTRAL_ENVIRONMENTAL_CORE {designation: "ESTATE_PRIMARY_CLIMATE_CONTROL"loot_seed: 0xCEC59D31skill_patterns: [{name: "THERMAL_REGULATION", TECH_required: 5, status: CRITICAL},{name: "DISTRIBUTION_CONTROL", TECH_required: 5, status: DEGRADED},{name: "ATMOSPHERIC_PROCESSING", TECH_required: 6, status: FAILING},{name: "POWER_MANAGEMENT", TECH_required: 5, status: COMPENSATING}]hardware_status: SEVERE_DEGRADATIONcrystal_arrays: 4/7 FUNCTIONALbackup_systems: OFFLINEcascade_failure_probability: 73%alarm_status: SILENCED - NODE_17_OVERRIDE_ACTIVEestimated_time_to_failure: 14.2 hours}
Tess went cold.
“What?” Petra leaned closer. “What do you see?”
“The core is in cascade failure. Three of seven crystal arrays are offline. Backup systems are down.” Tess looked at Petra. “And the alarms are silenced. Something Alex did at Node 17 disabled the warning system.”
“How long until…”
“Fourteen hours.”
Petra’s face paled in the vent’s dim light. “That’s the entire estate’s environmental control. If it fails…”
“Temperature regulation crashes. Airflow stops. Atmospheric processing goes offline.” Tess started working on the access panel’s bolts. “Fixing it gets a lot more difficult.”
The bolts came free. Tess lifted the panel away.
The chamber below opened into darkness, lit only by the faint glow of failing status indicators. The environmental core sat in the center—a massive assembly of skill crystals, power conduits, and Aether routing systems that stretched from floor to ceiling.
Three of the crystal arrays were dark. The remaining four pulsed irregularly, struggling to compensate for the failed units.
And the whole system was silent.
No alarms or warnings. Just the quiet death of a critical system that kept the air clean, and the temperature stable.
Tess looked at Petra.
“We need to go in,” she said.
Petra nodded, her face set with determination and they dropped down into the chamber together.