Sarren rubbed his eyes tiredly. Things weren't going well for the Praxic Order. They'd made very little progress in finding the mole and even less in locating Hayden.

It had been a week since the Hunter had escaped and, for all intents and purposes, he seemed to have dropped off the face of the Earth. Sarren would even say that he had, except for the fact that his ship was grounded at the Hangar and the flight activity of his friends' ships was being monitored. So Sarren was pretty sure that Hayden hadn't left the City. But the lead investigators on Hayden's case didn't agree with that assessment.

Not that he could blame them. After all, he still didn't know the mole's identity. Whoever they were, they were well-protected.

He rubbed his face again. His bionic eye had recently started acting up, twitching constantly and sending a barrage of information about whatever he currently happened to be looking at. It was wearing on his nerves.

He heard a pair of footsteps approach his desk.

"Hey, Sarren. You've got a new assignment."

Sarren looked up. Instantly, his bionic eye scanned the other Warlock's face.

NAME: Harper Fielding

OCCUPATION: Investigator, Praxic Order

CLASS: Warlock
SPECIALTY: Voidwalker

ID: 7313248

GHOST: Lyre

STATUS:

Sarren averted his gaze and blinked forcefully until the information went away.

"You alright?" asked Harper.

Sarren nodded with a grimace. "Just a headache. It'll pass."

Harper nodded. "Right, well, you're being sent into the field."

Sarren frowned. "Why?"

"Strange signals near the Wall. One of the higher-ups wants it checked out."

"I'm supposed to be finding the mole," Sarren told him.

Harper shrugged. "Orders are orders," he said, "I guess they figure you have the time since you haven't made any progress on that front." He cut off Sarren's indignation. "Don't worry, I'm not going to give you a hard time over it. I mean, I'm on the Hayden task force and I'm sure you know how that's going."

Sarren's lips twitched at the other Warlock's dry tone. Harper was right. None of them were having any luck.

"I'll fly out in a few minutes," he said.

Harper grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'll pass it along. I hope you have more luck out there than in here."

Sarren sighed as Harper walked away. "I do too..."

He spent a few more minutes sitting at his desk than he probably should have, even as he felt Tau's restlessness seep through their bond. Praxic Ghosts tended to take assignments to heart.

He rose to his feet, sparing a glance at Aunor's closed door. The other Warlock had remained shut in her office ever since the news of Hayden's escape had reached her. Sarren wasn't sure she'd bothered to leave. She was always there when he left for the night and before he arrived in the morning.

He wondered if he should have Tau ask Bahaghari about it but then shot the idea down. Bahaghari would probably mention it to Aunor and then she'd get on Sarren's case about it.

Who was he to judge her, anyway? He hadn't found time to meditate for days, preoccupied as he was with his assignments.

He looked around, finding that his feet had carried him to the Hangar unconsciously.

Amanda greeted him from her station. "Don't get the pleasure of seein' you in here very often, Sarren," she said, "What's the occasion?"

"Praxic business in the outskirts," he replied, a tired lean to his features.

Amanda gave a low whistle. "Anything serious?"

"I don't think so. If it was serious, they probably would have sent more Warlocks with me."

"...Shame," said the Shipwright. A frown tugged at Sarren's lips as she entered his information into her Holopad. Then she cocked her head slightly. "Ain't natural for a starship to be gathering dust. She's meant to be in the air, not stuck down here."

Sarren looked over her shoulder. A bronze ship sat in the docking bay, sleek and powerful-looking. And utterly still. Hayden's ship.

Some of his confusion cleared upon learning the object of Amanda's "shame" remark.

"We're working on it," he said, turning to find his own ship.

"Yeah," said Amanda, "Good luck with your assignment."

Sarren nodded his thanks before continuing towards his ship. It wasn't until he was in the air that he realized the Shipwright's comment had been about Hayden. It was a shame that his assignment wasn't serious because if it had been, chances were it would be regarding the Hunter.

Sarren used his bionic eye to pull up information on whatever it was he was meant to be investigating. According to a few reports, there was some odd activity near the Wall on the forest side. Snippets of transmissions. Fluctuations in Light scans.

Odds were it was just a Guardian on patrol. But the Praxic Order was on high alert. With Hayden MIA and a mole on the loose, they couldn't afford any more slip-ups.

Sarren knew the Order was lucky enough that news of the events hadn't yet made it outside of the Vanguard and Consensus but the pressure was on to fix it as soon as possible. This was more than illegal weapon mods or black market dealings. This was high-profile. A Guardian was meant to be on trial.

Sarren's console beeped as he approached the area in question. He slipped his Praxic-issued sidearm into his holster before having his Ghost transmat him down.

"Keep the ship in the area," he said.

"Sure thing," Tau replied.

Once his ship was out of the immediate vicinity, Sarren cast a cursory glance around the area. Nothing stuck out to him as unusual. His bionic eye fed him information about the surrounding environment. Despite the fact that Sarren hadn't directed it to scan anything, he let it continue. There was a chance it would reveal something useful.

The City's outer wall loomed over him. He couldn't help but notice that the surrounding trees were slightly on the scraggly side, no doubt a result of their proximity to the Wall.

What could be out here that attracted the Order's attention? he wondered as he walked through the space. As far as he could tell, there was nothing of note. No life signs, no campsites, no disturbed ground. It seemed completely and utterly normal.

"Fancy that," said a voice from behind him, "It took you less time to come looking out here than I thought."

Sarren's hand twitched towards his sidearm as he began to turn.

"Stop," the man commanded.

Sarren heard the cold snick of a gun cocking. He froze.

The man's voice wasn't entirely friendly. "You can turn around but I promise I can fire my gun before you even touch yours."

Sarren turned around.

The first thing he saw was the barrel of a hand cannon a mere couple of feet away from his face. Flames danced along it, heat radiating off it in waves. Peering down the arm that held it, Sarren saw a cloaked figure. A Hunter.

The man's eyes gleamed out at him from inside his hood, reflecting the fire of the gun in his hand. The rest of his face was too deeply shadowed for Sarren to make out, even with his bionic eye. The eye was attempting to scan the Hunter, but the information it provided was less than helpful.

NAME: [REDACTED]

OCCUPATION: [REDACTED]

CLASS: [REDACTED]
SPECIALTY: [REDACTED]

ID: [REDACTED]
GHOST: [REDACTED]

STATUS: [REDACTED]

BACKGROUND: [REDACTED]

NOTES: [REDACTED] is volatile and considered highly dangerous. Do not approach. If sighted, contact VANGUARD at frequency GAMMA 672.

That set off alarms in Sarren's head. There weren't many Lightbearers out there that would warrant such a warning. Whoever this Hunter was, he had to be bad news.

The man scoffed lightly. "Praxic Order," he muttered, "Never seen a group of Warlocks so hellbent on fightin' for a lost cause."

Sarren frowned. "Why are you out here?" he demanded, "What do you want?"

"I'm out here because I'm doing what you Praxics don't have the spine to do," said the Hunter, "Removing threats. Permanently."

Whoever he was, he seemed to know the purpose of the Praxic Order. Or at least, he pretended to know.

"The Praxic Order protects the City," said Sarren.

"Some protection. You let corruption spread unchecked. Given the chance, all of those twisted Guardians you 'rehabilitate' will turn. They'll bring the City down from within and the only thing you and your Praxic Order will be able to do is watch."

Sarren blinked, finally realizing who it was that stood across from him.

Shin Malphur.

He remembered Aunor telling him about her past encounters with the notorious Hunter. Malphur took issue with the Order's approach to dealing with corrupted Guardians.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't usually come this close to the City," said Sarren.

Malphur shrugged. "I go where I'm needed. Heard a rumor that the Praxic Order was making deals with another would-be Dredgen."

Sarren's brow furrowed. There was only one person that Malphur could be talking about. "Is this regarding Hayden?" he asked.

The Hunter was silent. Sarren took that for his answer.

"Hayden will stand trial before the Consensus," he said, "It's been decided."

Malphur snorted derisively. "The Consensus. They understand the scope of things just as much as your Order and the Vanguard. Less, even... They'll let him off and another threat will slip through the cracks."

"What is it you're proposing?" Sarren asked warily.

"Leave him to me," said Malphur easily, "He's already been infected... This won't end with the Consensus. You know it, I know it."

Sarren bristled. "If you think I'm going to stand aside and let you carry out the murder of another Guardian, then you'd better think again."

The Hunter didn't seem surprised by his answer. "Why don't I put it like this? The way I hear things, the Consensus is backed into a corner. Their only choice is to exile Hayden. If that happens, I'll find him. Seems easier to just give me the Order's information on Hayden. Cut out the middleman."

"No."

Malphur's tone dipped lower, trending towards threatening. "I'll end him either way, Warlock. Only a matter of time."

"You have no jurisdiction inside the City."

Malphur barked out a laugh. "Don't have jurisdiction outside it either, but that hasn't stopped me." Sarren glared at him. The Hunter sighed. "You and Mahal… one and the same. Fine. Stick to your Praxic protocol. See where that gets you when all's said and done..."

His eyes honed in on Sarren's implant. "Don't much care what you tell your Warlock friends, but I'd rather you not circulate any pictures of me. Only complicates my work... Sorry."

The apology was added offhandedly, almost like an afterthought. Sarren had just enough time to wonder what the Hunter was apologizing for before Malphur shifted his aim and fired.

Light flashed in Sarren's eyes, driving away the blackness at the edge of his vision as he sat up.

He looked around, finding that the clearing was empty once more. Shin Malphur and his ever-burning gun were nowhere in sight.

Tau hovered over him, bathing his face in Light. "I think that was your first resurrection in nearly a decade," the Ghost remarked dryly, "I hope you know that rebuilding your eye is no less of a chore than it was the first time something like this happened."

Sarren blinked and probed at his face, feeling for damage. Unsurprisingly, there was none.

"He shot me," Sarren muttered.

"Yes. In the head."

"I need to report back to the Order."

"I daresay you do."

The Warlock pushed himself to his feet, taking a quick scan around the area once more. "...At least my eye stopped glitching out."

As soon as he got back to the Tower, Sarren went straight to Aunor's office, Tau hovering at his shoulder.

The mere fact that his Ghost was physically present showed how serious the situation was. Tau had been with him for decades. At some point in nearly every Guardian and Ghost's relationship, it got to the point where Ghosts didn't feel like they had to babysit their Guardian's every move.

Tau spent most of his time in phase, especially after Sarren began to make full use of his bionic eye. When your Guardian could interface and scan things, there wasn't a whole lot that required their Ghost to be physically present.

Yet Tau was with Sarren every step of the way to Aunor's office, causing the other Warlock to shoot him a questioning look.

"What is it?" she asked, "Do you have news about the mole? Were you unable to uncover their identity?"

Sarren shook his head. "This isn't about that. It's about-"

Aunor sighed. "Hayden's task force isn't having any luck either. We need to make headway on at least one of these cases or else it'll be too late…"

It was a testament to how much Aunor cared that she was willing to work on a case to which she hadn't even been assigned.

"We may have another problem," Sarren began again but was cut off.

"Honestly, Sarren, sometimes I think that the Praxic Order's losing its edge. Just look at how much-"

"Shin Malphur shot Sarren in the head," Tau interrupted.

Aunor blinked, thrown off. She refocused on Sarren. "What?"

Sarren wasn't sure he liked the dark tone that was creeping into her voice. Even Tau ducked.

"Shin-"

"How dare he," Aunor hissed, eyes flashing, "Vigilante justice is one thing but to shoot a member of the Praxic Order… Where did this happen?"

Sarren nearly flinched at the bite in her tone. He'd never seen her get so angry before. Loose strands of her hair were hovering away from her face, propelled by static charge.

"Just outside the Wall," he told her, "He wanted me to give up information on Hayden - probably so he could track him down easier."

"Did you tell him anything?" Aunor's eyes were now glowing with a dangerous electric sheen. The sharp scent of ozone suffused the air.

"Of course not," said Sarren, "I told him I wouldn't give him the information. After that, he shot me in the eye to prevent me from recording or taking pictures."

"Were you?" asked Aunor, "Recording, I mean?"

"My eye records passively but I have to direct it to save and export the recordings if I want to keep them. So no, I don't have any footage of him, if that's what you're asking. Neither does Tau."

Aunor seemed to deflate a bit at that. Her eyes returned to normal but Sarren could still feel a charge in the air.

"Go to Records and give them your statement. Make sure it gets added to Malphur's file. I barely tolerated him before. Maybe in light of this incident, the Vanguard will let me bring him in."

Sarren thought that trying to bring Shin Malphur in against his will was doomed to end badly, but he kept that to himself. He could tell that Aunor was still seething. With a nod to her, he and Tau left for the Records Department.

Tristan was straightening up the Chasers' apartment for the third time in the past hour when he got a call from Rogue.

Ever since Harley had been discovered missing, the Praxic Order had been watching the apartment, as well as all of their clanmates who were in the Tower. Because of their scrutiny, Tristan and Rogue had been unable to do anything helpful, like visiting Harley or looking for the people who were behind his current status as a wanted fugitive.

Left with nothing to do, Tristan found himself cleaning more than usual. The others had noticed his newfound obsession and frequently commented on it, but Tristan didn't clue them in to the reasons behind it.

The last thing they needed to do was involve more people in their deception. Not only would they have a higher chance of being discovered, but the other Chasers would be placed in danger by the circumstances. It was better for everyone if they didn't know.

Of course, their ignorance didn't make Tristan's own circumstances any less precarious. He was intensely worried about giving himself away. Or, to put it more accurately, about Rogue giving them away. Tristan was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve but he had no idea how the Exo was faring. Granted, they hadn't been found out yet, so that was something.

When his comlink beeped, Tristan answered it faster than he could blink. "What is it?"

"Heya, Brainiac. Come meet me at Drifter's. He's got some new bounties you might like." With that, the Titan hung up.

Tristan frowned. It didn't take a genius to know that Rogue wasn't calling him about Gambit bounties. Tristan didn't play Gambit. And the tone of the Exo's voice had been off. His words had sounded weighted, in opposition to his easy manner of speaking. It was like Rogue had traced them over in his mind until they sounded right.

They both knew the Praxic Order could be listening to their comms. It was wise to guard their words lest incriminating information be revealed.

Tristan pulled on his boots and hurried out the door.

It was a short journey from the apartment to the Drifter's alleyway but that did nothing to ease Tristan's nerves. One could only guess how many Praxic operatives were watching the area. He was somewhat relieved upon reaching the Drifter's spot - a feeling that he'd never thought he would associate with the place.

Rogue and the Drifter were waiting for him. Rogue looked tense and the Drifter's arms were crossed.

"What is it?" asked Tristan, keeping his voice low.

Rogue gave a mechanical sigh. "Bad news. Drifter says someone's after Ace." Tristan glared at the Titan. "Relax," said Rogue, "This place is safe. His Ghost disrupts any Praxic bugs."

"Call it a preemptive strike," said the Drifter. Despite his efforts at keeping his voice smooth, Tristan could detect the uneasiness beneath.

"This isn't exactly new information," Tristan pointed out reproachfully, "We were already aware that people were pursuing him. The Praxic Order, for one."

The Drifter was shaking his head. "This ain't the Order, Warlock. Not the other side either. This is a new player - or an old one, rather. And he's more dangerous than the Praxics and the criminals combined... The Man with the Golden Gun."

Tristan was unable to recall knowing anyone by that title. "What makes him more dangerous?" he asked.

"If he catches up with Ace, there's no second stop," said the Drifter, "He'll send him right to the grave."

Tristan frowned. "Isn't that what the criminals are trying to do?"

"Yeah but they're a buncha amateurs. This guy... he's the real deal. Been puttin' down Guardians since Light knows when. And he's on Ace's trail."

"How do you know about this?" Tristan demanded.

The Drifter's posture tightened. He wet his lips. "Got a tip," he said evasively.

Tristan shot him a look to let him know that he wasn't buying the story.

"Look, you don't need to worry about how I know, brother. All you gotta know is that this guy shot a Praxic for info on Ace. He means business. And he's probably in the City already."

"He shot a member of the Order?" said Tristan skeptically, "That isn't exactly something that will go unnoticed."

"He didn't kill the guy. Not permanently, anyway... You wanna follow up with the Order, be my guest. Just don't expect 'em not to ask questions."

"Well, then what do you suggest?" Tristan challenged.

"You two need to go find Ace and tell him to get the hell outta dodge," said the Drifter.

Rogue scoffed. "It ain't that easy, Drifter. We got Praxic mooks watching us all the time. 'Sides, where's Ace supposed to go? He doesn't have the Light or his ship."

"I'm willing to bet the Praxic Order's losin' interest in you two," the Drifter said, "You've kept your heads down for a week. If I were them, I wouldn't bank on you leading me to Ace now."

"That's easy for you to say," said Tristan, "We can't be sure your source is trustworthy. If there even is a source."

"Fine!" The Drifter threw his arms up. "Go march into Praxic HQ and ask them about it. See how that works out for ya."

As much as Tristan wanted to throw it back in his face, the Drifter had taken a risk by sharing this information with them. Especially at a time when the Praxic Order was on high alert for suspicious activity. So while he still doubted the trustworthiness of the Drifter's mysterious "source" - and not to mention the man himself - he had to acknowledge the act.

"Thank you for telling us," he said grudgingly.

In a flicker, the Drifter's edgy behavior passed as an easy smile took root on his face. "No problem, brother. Just make sure you put it to good use. Would hate for my efforts to go to waste."

"Hmm," said Tristan noncommittally. He gestured to Rogue. "We should go."

The Exo nodded. "Thanks again," he called over his shoulder.

The pair didn't bother to wait for the Drifter's response. As they walked back, Tristan found himself wanting to discuss the situation with Rogue. He was reasonably sure the Praxic Order hadn't planted listening devices on them, but he decided they should steer clear of directly mentioning certain names and events.

"What do you think?" he asked Rogue.

The Titan sighed. "I dunno. I mean, I don't trust the Drifter. But who does? The man's shady as they come."

"But could his information still be good?"

"Oh, I'm sure. He probably works hard to stay up to speed on this stuff. But it ain't like we can go check with the- with our law-enforcing pals. Shit, even if he's right, they wouldn't tell us. It's probably top secret or something. Not exactly the kinda thing they'd want people knowin' about, 'specially if it happened this recently."

Tristan agreed with the Exo's assessment. He had come to the same conclusions himself. But he knew they had to act on the information, and the sooner, the better.

"So if we aren't going to attempt to verify it, what do you propose?" asked Tristan.

Rogue made a humming sound. "I say we take a trip... I know someone in the City who'd be interested to hear about it."

"It's good to know that we're on the same page," Tristan remarked dryly.

They would have to take care that they weren't followed. After all, it wouldn't do for them to warn Harley about a threat only to end up leading another one straight to him.

A/N: You guys get an early chapter this week since I'm going to be busy tomorrow and I didn't want to post another late one. I hope you enjoyed!