If you can't beat 'em, ghost 'em.

"Sit him down."

The inexorable weight of two strong handed Nano Trasen operatives forced Koller down into a metal chair by his shoulders. His butt slammed down into the chair with a light screech, but the operatives quickly adjusted his seat, sliding him closer to the large interrogation desk. A man with wintry blue eyes and fierce, hawklike features sat opposite of him. He reached into the pocket of a freshly pressed, custom fitted black suit and pulled out a New Haven cigar, pinching the butt between his teeth. Then, in almost an after thought, he glanced up apologetically and plucked the cigar from his mouth, offering it up to Koller. "Sorry. How thoughtless of me. Do you smoke?"

The gunmetal gray of Koller's eyes flicked down to the cigar, nose crinkling. "Not a fan."

The man shrugged, humming softly before depositing the cigar between his teeth again.

Koller chose that exact moment to size him up. Cool and confident so far, and the formal clothing he wore accentuated his svelte build. He was the long and rigid type, probably very strong and quick despite his outwardly slender appearance. The two in his entourage were definitely Peacekeepers. It was extremely likely that everyone in this interrogation room had combat experience. A plausibility Koller tucked into significant consideration even though he was no longer handcuffed, but they still hadn't taken him out of his orange prison jump suit.

The man in the suit reached into his other breast pocket, pulling out a glossy black zippo. He flicked the lighter open and ignited his cigar in one fluid motion, then slid it back into his breast pocket. He puffed a few times to stoke the end of the cigar, then exhaled a thick plume of rich, scented smoke from his nostrils. "A detective who doesn't smoke. Now that's suspicious."

Koller relaxed back into his chair, splaying his hands on his knees. "I can see why that might be cause for alarm. After all, I couldn't have really been a detective if I didn't smoke."

The man in the suit grinned as he lightly pulled the cigar from his teeth, dabbing some ash into a gray metal ashtray. "Touche, Koller. Touche!" The smile widened for just a moment, then vanished completely. His expression was suddenly hard, and rather than take another hit from the cigar like Koller expected, he snuffed it out inside the tray, letting the butt hang out over the edge. "But now it's time to get serious."

Koller watched the man's hand slide across the desk to a manila folder. He opened it quickly, exposing a file that he began to read from in bits and pieces.

"N.M.C. Wraith. . . Loyal to the commonwealth. . . Assassination. Espionage. Sabotage. Data theft. Door hacking and A.P.C. manipulation. Intense forensic and investigative skills. Weapons training and CQC Expertise. . ."

"I'm sure it's a much longer list than that."

"It is," said the man in the suit, before snapping the file shut. "Hell of a resume, Koller. But as a Wraith, I'm sure you know better than anyone just what kind of pull Nano Trasen has with the New Magnitkan Commonwealth right now. We contracted you in very good faith, with assurances from your government you would serve us well."

Koller was quiet, staring pensively at the desk.

The man in the suit smiled like a wolf tasting its first few drops of blood. "Look at me, Koller. Not the desk."

Koller lifted his gaze obediently. But the resentment on his face was stark. He knew where all of this was going.

"It would be a shame if Nano Trasen were to somehow feel remorseful about who we helped win that war on New Magnitka. A real damn shame. It was a close call between the peons and the Commonwealth. Only been six years, Koller. Lot of heated embers beneath all that ash. Be a shame if the people should rise up again, maybe put a more competent government in place. One who can lease us their personnel more reliably. One who can get us access to the G.E.M. technology. All five levels of clearance. . ."

Koller's throat constricted and a flash of searing anger tightened the line of his jaw. "I was just being a patriot. . ." he growled. "I was stupid and emotional. That's no reason to hold the lives of millions of people responsible. I swear to god if you start that civil war again, I'll find you, and when I do, I'l—"

Koller never got to finish his sentence. The man in the suit gestured to one of of the Peacekeepers, who delivered a hard punch across the side of his face. Koller's head jerked violently, blood trickling from his cracked lip.

"Ouch. That looked painful. Now let me continue before you interrupt." The man in the suit cleared his throat, then proceeded smoothly. "Not only did you break the leg of a custodial staff member for no apparent reason, you lured Warden Kryzsiek Nowak to your office, shot him with a syndicate weapon, subdued him, and then used his credentials to break into the armory. Whereupon you two fought. The warden ran for backup after a brief skirmish, returning with Logan Wolfe, that shift's acting head of security. From there, mister Koller, they filled you with electrodes—"

"Which really hurt, by the way," Koller chimed in.

"Right," said the man, then continued, "—with electrodes, subdued you, and brought you to the shuttle. But you must have been one smooth talker, mister Koller. They put you in a pair of jack boots and even offered to remove the cuffs at one point. Probably jokingly. But considering the severity of your actions, you kept them in a very light mood."

Koller shrugged. "They were just laid back guys, I guess."

The other man's wintry blue eyes glinted, "I'm sure. But what remains to be seen, mister Koller, are your motives for breaching the armory in the first place."

Koller was again silent, but this time he met the other man's gaze directly. Unafraid. "Just take me to my cell."

"You really want to play it that way?"

Koller didn't answer.

"Fine. Get him out of my sight."

The Peacekeepers hauled Koller out of his chair by his upper arms. He let his weight sag loosely. "Oh, one more thing."

"What?"

"I did it because I wanted to come here," Koller barely finished the last word of his sentence before his hands slipped to the pistol holster at each guard's side. They were clipped down, so he couldn't pull them quickly, but he didn't need to. By the time the Peacekeepers realized what he was trying it was too late. Koller squeezed the triggers, firing a beam of super heated energy into each guard's leg. The man to his right was easy. He didn't even keep the weapon's safety on. The woman on his left had been marginally smarter, but Koller knew the pistols so well that it was only a fraction of a second longer for him to slide his finger over the little button and press it in. The peacekeepers screamed, collapsing towards the floor as they held their pierced and burning legs. With the sudden drop in the weight of each guard, Koller was quickly able to snap the pistols out of their holsters despite the button, then pointed them at the suited man. For a moment, his face was frozen in cold terror.

"Must really hurt when a beam goes all the way through. Especially when when the point of entry is all the way up in the upper thigh, and the exit is in the lower calf."

"Don't shoot. . ." the man whispered.

Koller pointed one of his pistols away from the suited man, angling the muzzle towards the interrogation room's only camera. He squeezed the trigger, and a hot red beam of energy blasted the camera, melting it down in a shower of sparks. Then he pointed it back to the man again, flowing smoothly around the desk and over next to him. He pressed the searing muzzle of the laser pistol against the bottom of his chin. Koller could see the cold sweat beading his brow as he screamed. But the suited official didn't move.

With the hardness of his forehead, Koller headbutted the man's chin, knocking him out cold. The back of his head banged against the door, then he crumpled into a pile in front of it. Koller promptly locked the entry. There wasn't much time to act; help would be on its way soon, so that meant he better not dally. He walked back over to the peacekeepers, who were both attempting to stand. But their wounds were still causing them too much grief, so they had to use the walls for support, and were slowly climbing their way back to some semblance of an erect posture.

Koller started with the woman, driving a hard elbow into her mouth. The back of her head slammed against the wall just like the suited man's, and her legs seemed to give out from under her. He heard her body thud down behind him as he approached the other Peacekeeper. With the man, he was marginally less merciful, using the butt of his pistol in a calculated attack against the side of his temple. He went down immediately.

Koller quickly slipped out of his clothing, then raced to undress the other man. As a Wraith, he remembered the way he used to practice at hours dressing and undressing manikins, then slipping into their clothes as fast as possible. It was a mere misdirection, not a lasting solution. But he needed all the time he could buy. In a few minutes, Koller managed to completely swap clothing with the peacekeeper. And that was all the time he was getting. His head turned to the door as he heard the stomping of booted feet on the other side. He raced to the edge of the doorway, sinking down as if he had been wounded.

"Break it in!"

The door thudded, bouncing against the framing. The second time he heard a loud crack. And the third it completely swung open on its hinges. Six armed men swarmed into the room, surrounding the man in the orange jump suit. Koller crawled right out the door and broke into a hasty walk, splitting off into another corridor. Behind him, he heard the alarmed screaming.

"It's not him!"

Koller used the peacekeeper's ID to pass through a security airlock. The armored portal swirled open for him, permitting him to continue. It wouldn't be long before the entire facility knew he was wearing a peacekeeper uniform. But that didn't change the fact they would, without fail, hesitate before apprehending him. It wasn't far to the elevator. His plan was to take it to the administrative level. From there, he could access CentComm's more valuable information. Things they wanted to keep private. Information he could use to lever Nano Trasen away from level three clearance of G.E.M. research. And perhaps do a favor or two for a certain Rose Watson.

Koller, the level two access to G.E.M. research is beautiful. But I can't promise this Watson thing will go away. Not unless something extremely unfortunate were to happen to the data they have cached on her. But hell, to fuck with that shit! You'd need to be at one of the administrative terminals in CentComm. And that, my friend, is suicide.

Koller's eyes narrowed calculatingly. It sure as fuck was.