Chapter One Brave New World…

The central offices of Dragmire Industries were perhaps the most heavily guarded building on the entire planet. It was certainly one of the tallest, topping out at 167 stories, second only to the Hylia Corp. buildings. That was going straight up, of course. But beneath even the bottom-most levels of the city, the building extended deep into the earth, into many levels that had conveniently been removed from provisional records. No one but the CEO and the various technicians and specialists who lived and worked on those floors knew what they were used for, and only slightly more people knew that they even existed.

One such person was Markus Sloffan, newly promoted member of Dragmire Industries' personal security taskforce. He had gone through security training at one of the finest schools in the northern hemisphere, graduating in the top percentile of his class. He had felt proud and honored when he had been selected to join the corporation's team, and had served diligently and faithfully ever since. When his supervisor had told him of his new position as officer-on-duty of the lower levels, he had felt that his time had come, that his years of loyalty and hard work were finally paying off.

Of course that was until he discovered that the position required him to sit at his station and monitor the various screens in front of him without so much as a break. His food was brought to him by a server bot, and the only other contact he had was when his supervisor would call in every quarter hour for a report. And his report was always the same: All clear on Level Omega.

Sloffan grunted as his eyes scanned the screens. As usual, there was nothing to see but empty hallway after empty hallway. When he had asked why there were no cameras in the labs and other rooms, he had been told in no uncertain terms that he was on a need to know basis, and he would never need to know. He had occupied his time trying to imagine what was in those rooms, but even as a kid his imagination hadn't been great, so he had given up on that pursuit fairly soon. Now he just spent his days doing his best to stay awake while he watched the never-changing screens.

Which was why he would have been all the more excited had he noticed the shadow that darted across a screen his gaze had just moved from.

His Intel indicated that his quarry lay waiting in the room beneath him, but the shadow took a moment to check it over again. It wasn't that he didn't trust the source, but he hadn't become the best industrial spy on Hyrule by being reckless. A professional always made sure that he was one hundred percent certain, and if he was anything at all, it was professional. Scanning over the screen of his data pad, he nodded slightly to himself and placed it back into his belt. He peered down into the room below him, looking for any obvious traps. Flipping the lenses of his goggles into infrared mode, he saw the crisscrossing red beams at various levels of the room, as well as the cameras stationed in the corners, cameras he knew fed directly into the CEO's private offices. He could assume that there would be motion, sound, and heat detectors as well, but ultimately those were all of little concern to him; he had already bypassed the alarms in the ventilation system he was now hiding in, and he had broken past procedures like this hundreds of times before.

It was the more subtle and unseen precautions that he was afraid of. He knew that the CEO had a number of the most powerful magic users in the galaxy on staff, and he would have used them to secure these rooms with various spells and incantations. Those would be more difficult to get around, seeing as he had no magic of his own to protect him. Thankfully, his employer had also thought of this, and he absently touched the gold medallion tucked under his shirt.

Making sure his drop line was secure, he lifted the grating free of the vent and slowly dropped into the room, angling his body in almost supernatural ways to avoid the lasers. He regulated his breathing until it was almost nonexistent, calling upon his training to keep his body temperature and perspiration under control. He swung his body around until he was facing the sole pieces of hardware in the room, a computer and its desk. The lasers kept him from going completely horizontal, so instead he removed a small metal orb about the size of a large marble from his belt. Flipping the shades down on his goggles, he took a breath and squeezed the orb until it burst.

The mini-chaff wasn't going to last long, so he needed to work quickly. Pulling on the cord till he was parallel with the floor, he swung himself over towards the computer. The motion, sound, and heat detectors were still functional, and the spy had to assume that they were extremely sensitive, so his every move was measured and subtle. Pulling the stolen passwords from his memory, he quickly tapped them into the keyboard, half-expecting an alarm to sound at any second. Removing a disc from his belt, he entered it into the drive and began downloading the information. Seconds later it was done, and he shut down the computer, running a small laser over the keyboard to erase any trace particles from his gloves. Drawing himself up, he quickly replaced the grate and was gone, reactivating the defenses as he came to them.

The whole operation took two minutes, and Markus Sloffan was none the wiser.

The vice-president of the Hylia Corporation sat patiently at her desk, her chin resting in her tented fingers. Through the window behind her, the setting sun cast an orangish hue over her desk and the rest of the office. Soon it would set completely, and then she would know if the operation had been a success.

In her mind she played through all possible scenarios, from worst to best, planning how her next move would play out from there. Her father had always taught her that the key to running a successful business was to always plan three steps ahead, to judge how the market would sway in any given situation. But she had always been an over-achiever, and as such she made it a habit to plan five steps ahead. It had helped her to become the VP of her father's firm, a highly successful planet-spanning corporation, by the time was sixteen, and in the five years since then transform her particular interests—namely research and development, public relations, and magical acquisitions—three of the highest grossing departments in the firm. Newspapers and magazines called her "potentially the most talented entrepreneur of this or any generation". Her future was assured, and all she had to do was wait for it to come to her.

All that would be for nothing, she told herself, if she didn't secure the future of the rest of the galaxy.

"Do you think he made it out?" she asked aloud, seemingly to thin air.

"Yes," came the reply from the shadows. "I trained him to be the best. And he is."

"I don't doubt you," she replied. "And I don't doubt him. But there is a great deal resting on this mission. If there is even a hint of my involvement, all our fates will be sealed."

"Then it is good that I was not discovered." The spy appeared from the darkness, just as the sun set behind the cityscape.

The VP smiled. "Perfect timing, as usual. There were no problems?"

"None," the spy replied, as he placed the disk in front of her. "Which I believe to be a very big one."

"I agree. But there is nothing to be done about it. This is the only lead we have." She pressed a button on her chair, and a computer screen flipped open on her desk. Loading the mini-disk into the side, she waited for it to load. Tapping the screen, she opened the various folders, quickly scanning over the contents. Her heart froze at what she found. "It is as I feared," she breathed. Shutting down the computers, she stood up and walked to the window, gazing down at the city below her. After a long moment, she said, "Our foe it seems is almost as well-informed as we are. I don't believe he has unlocked the final piece of the puzzle, but he knows far too much already. It's a race from here on out, and there is no longer any time to turn back."

She turned around to face the spy and the shadows. "I want him found. The man from my dreams. And I want him found yesterday. I don't care what it takes, but I want him standing in front of me in three days time. Both of you are on this assignment, as well as any other resources you may need, men, bots, whatever. Bring him to me now."

"Yes, milady," both voices responded. However, neither of them left.

"Was there something else?" she prompted impatiently. "Or were my orders not clear?"

"Ma'am," the spy replied, stepping forward to the desk. "Along my escape route I passed by a lab in the lower levels of the building. It was heavily fortified, but there were no guards or bots present. I know that my orders were to get the information and then get out, but I felt compelled to look in on it. And when I did…" He fell silent, searching for the words to explain. Finding none, he instead pulled a fist-sized tube from the back of his belt and handed it to the VP.

She took one look at what was inside and froze. "Goddesses…" she breathed. Her head snapped back up. "You now have two days. Find him now!"

The lower levels of Sector 12 were far from the worst parts of the mega-city, but by no stretch of the imagination could they be considered decent. Populated by some lower status gangs, dealers, pimps, and those who either had nowhere else to go or who did not wish to be found, the area was avoided whenever possible by the denizens of the upper, more prestigious levels.

Joan Korzanian had lived there for nearly thirty-five years of her forty-nine year life. When she was sixteen, her successful banker father had lost everything due to an embezzling scandal, and he had been forced into Sector 12 with his wife, son, and daughter. Joan's mother had left early on, and she had not been heard from since. Her brother had joined one of the Hylian gangs in the area, and accordingly had been killed by a rival group. When she was nineteen her father got into trouble with some bookies and he too was killed.

Despite all this, Joan had remained optimistic; she whole-heartedly bought into the idea that there would always be someone who was worse off than her, and that belief had carried her through the first twenty or so years. After all, she had somewhere to sleep, she usually had enough to eat, and she had even managed to dig up a car, ancient though it may be. Now however, she was older and—she liked to believe—wiser to the ways of the universe, and she had grown to accept the fact that her life would never get better, that it could always get worse, and the best she could hope for was that she never ended up like some of the other women living down there. Which was why she would always be thankful for her job at Danko's Dive.

Danko was a decrepit old man who only kept the bar open in order to finance his gambling as well as a way to garner money from small-business loans. He rarely came down to the bar, except when there was a big game on or when he had come into some less-than-legal merchandise. The name fit the establishment to a tee. A single level, ramshackle old building, it consisted of a bar, five booths, and a number of old, circular tables, it always amazed Joan how the bar managed to stay open. But then she would remember that in a place where all hope was lost, the cheapest refuge could always be found at the bottom of a bottle, no matter how dirty it was.

Tonight it was pretty much empty, save for the two or three regular winos who bought their drinks with what little money they had and did the best to make them last the night. The old juke box in the corner cranked out classic rock and blues, the records often jumping and skipping from one song to another, as the television above the bar ran through the news of the day.

"…recapping the top story of the day, Hylia Corp. and Dragmire Industries have announced that they will be signing new contracts that will lead to a new era of cooperation between the two central corporations in the Hyrule galaxy. Representatives of the companies made a press release stating that the contracts will be finalized tomorrow afternoon in a live-to-air telecast…"

"Hmmph,"

Joan turned to look at her companion stationed behind the bar. "Got a thing for one of the corps?"

"Both of them, actually," he replied as he scrubbed out dirty mugs. "But then again, who doesn't have beef with one of them?"

"The people who work in those big buildings, I suppose," she offered, eliciting a small smile from the bartender. She gave him a quick look over, once again marveled and saddened by the youth she saw. He was barely over twenty, and yet he had a cynicism and hardness that even Joan had yet to acquire, and in her opinion he had the look and feeling of someone who would never even have had use the words 'Sector' and 'Twelve' in the same sentence under normal circumstances. He was undeniably handsome, as Joan had secretly admitted to herself on more than one occasion, with his golden-hued hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. He was of average height and build, but the tightly corded muscles beneath his clothes hinted that he was stronger than he looked. He wore a silver hoop through each ear, and generally tended to dress in comfortable, unassuming clothing like jeans, a t-shirt, and worn work-boots, though for some reason he always made it a habit to wear something green, today that something being his t-shirt. There was an openness and honesty in his face that almost demanded trust, and his personality and charm as a whole was magnetic. How this young man had not become a model or an actor or something was completely beyond Joan. Still, she had been glad when Danko had hired him on several months ago. He wasn't a particularly skilled bartender, but he was competent, and above all—according to Danko—he worked cheap.

"Still," she said, "You have to admit, that girl that's been running Hylia Corp.—you know, what's her name…"

"Zelda,"

"Yes, that's it. Anyway, she's been doing a lot of good. I hear she's been putting a lot of money back into some of the lower levels, helping with reconstruction and health care…"

"PR stunt…"

"…donating to charities like the 'Wish Upon a Fairy Foundation'…"

"Tax write-off…"

"…even helping out after that big mining accident on the Goron home world…"

"Covering her ass, seeing as how it was her machinery that malfunctioned and caused the accident." He smiled at her exasperated look. "Trust me Joan, the corps don't do anything that doesn't make them either richer or more pleasing to the public eye."

Joan playfully slapped him on the cheek. "You know, Link, you have got to be the grumpiest young man I have ever met."

Before he could respond, the bell over the door jingled, and they both looked over to see who would have entered at this time of night. Their expressions fell as they saw who it was: three hulking Lizaflos loudly made their way into the bar, talking and cussing about whatever came to their minds. They took a seat at one of the tables, and Joan could see that all of them were armed with swords and blasters. She exchanged a look with Link, who gave her a cautious look of warning, then nodded in their direction. Taking a deep breath, Joan went over to them. "What'll you have, gents?" Three pairs of reptilian eyes turned towards her and instantly began running over her still-attractive figure. Joan tried her best to ignore it, but she could feel herself begin to shake a little.

Noticing this, the Lizaflos snickered wickedly to themselves. "Three Dodongo Killers, straight up and double," one of them hissed, his eyes never leaving her chest. "Make it quick, sweetheart."

Joan headed back over to the bar, where Link was already fixing the drinks. He purposely took his time in order to keep her there with him. "Be cool," he whispered to her. "Just get them their drinks, come back over here, and let them do their thing."

Nodding in response, she placed the drinks on her tray and headed back over. Setting the drinks in front of the leering reptiles, she forced a half-hearted smile. "Three Dodongo Killers. Enjoy."

As she turned to leave, she felt a cold, rough hand grab her wrist. "Hold up, there sweet meat," the Lizaflos told her. "Why don't you stay a while? Not like you have any other customers or anything."

Fighting hard to keep from panicking, Joan looked back over to the bar, only to discover that Link was no longer there. Instead he was making his way around the room, seemingly wiping down tables and counters. Not quite sure what he was up to, she had no choice but to obey. "Al-alright. What'd you like to talk about?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," he purred, his clawed fingers making their way up and down her arm. "Like what you're doing after you close."

Joan shivered, not liking where this conversation was going. She tried to spot Link in her peripheral, but he was out of her view. "Well, I…I mean, I don't know. Go home, get some rest…"

"Aw, that's no fun," he replied, as his two companions snickered. His grip tightened on her wrist. She tried to pull free, but he held fast, and pulled her down into his lap. "I think you'd have a much better time if you came home with us. We know how to treat a lady right…" Joan did her best not to scream as she felt a long tongue trace a line down her cheek.

Suddenly she was jerked away once again, this time out of the Lizaflos' grasp. She turned around and saw as the three beasts got to their feet growling. Or two of them did. The one that had held her now had his face been held down on the table with his own blaster aimed at his eye. "Wait, wait!" he was screaming to his friends. "Don't do nothin', don't do nothin'!"

"Good idea," Link growled, and Joan couldn't help but be a little frightened at the change that had come over the young man. "Now, listen to mine. You and your friends are going to leave this bar. You're going to go back to whatever shit hole you crawled out of, and then you're going to think long and hard about this sad excuse you call a life. After that, I don't care what you do, just so long as I never see you step foot in here again. You got that?"

"You're fucking dead!" the captive whimpered. "You have no idea who you're fucking with…"

"What did I just say?" Link pressed the barrel of the gun against the Lizaflos' head. "Didn't I just ask if you understood?"

"Fine! Fine!"

Link released his captive, but still kept the blaster in his hand. The three thugs left the bar, their eyes never leaving the young man who had so humiliated them. When the door had closed behind them, Link tucked the gun in the back of his jeans and asked, "Joan, what time is it?"

Still in shock, it took her a moment to register that he had even spoken. "One-thirty-five. Why?"

"We're closing up early tonight. If Danko asks we'll tell him we got a tip about the cops making a sweep of the sector."

"Alright. But Link…"

"C'mon, grab your stuff. I'll walk you to your car."

"Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride?" Joan pleaded.

"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm three areas out of your way. The tram will get me there just as fast anyway." Link gave her hand a comforting squeeze through the window.

Still looking uncertain, Joan nevertheless offered him a smile. Doing up her window she put the car into gear and pulled out of the alley. Link watched until the taillights were out of sight, then stepped deeper into the shadows. Placing his duffel bag on the ground, he leaned up against the wall and waited. "You guys going to get this over with, or am I going to have to wait all night?"

Link got his answer when he saw the three Lizaflos dissolve from the shadows in front of him. Their leader, the one he had humiliated stepped up to him, sword in hand. "You brought this on yourself, kid," he snarled. "Now you die." He brought his sword back, ready to plunge it through Link's chest, but the young man charged into him, tackling the beast onto the ground. One of the other Lizaflos came after him, also with his sword drawn, but Link swept his leg around, taking his foe's legs out from under him. He rolled forward and punched the Lizaflos hard in the throat.

Suddenly a bright flash of red passed over his shoulder, and Link turned to see that his final opponent had drawn his blaster. Seizing the dying Lizaflos sword, Link stood up and charged at the gunman, reaching him before another shot was fired. He grabbed onto the Lizaflos wrist and twisted, causing the blaster to fall to the ground, even as he stabbed the sword through the reptile's stomach. In one smooth motion he bent down to retrieve the blaster and spun on his heel, stopping the leader short in his charge, the blaster aimed directly between his eyes.

"Wait!" the Lizaflos stammered. "Wait a minute, we can talk this out! I'm sorry, I'm…"

Link pulled the trigger.

He stood there a moment longer, surrounded by the carnage he had wrought. He wasn't concerned about the bodies; the Scavengers would pick them clean long before the sweeper bots came to clean up what was left of them. Walking back to his bag, he hefted it onto his shoulder and placed the blaster inside and pulled out his Discman. Popping his headphones into his ears, Link made his way out of the alley and towards the tram station that would take him home.

As the door slid open, Link stepped into the small, one room apartment he called home. While far from comfortable, it also could have been much worse, and he counted himself lucky to have it. Closing the door behind him, he keyed in the lock code and physically dead bolted it; one could never be too careful after all. He didn't bother to turn on any lights, as the neon and fluorescent glows from the streets below and above him cast plenty of light for him to make his way over to his bed.

Tossing his bag to the ground beside him, he kicked off his shoes and leaned back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. His hand absently pulled the small green jewel he wore around his neck from under his shirt and began rubbing it. "C'mon," he told himself. "Just close your eyes and go to sleep. There's no reason to be a pussy about it…" But try as he might, no matter how tired he felt, Link's eyes simply refused to shut, fearful of what they would see when they did.

Angry with himself, Link tried again. "Alright…on the count of three, I'm going to do this. One…two…three…" He closed his eyes.

He stands before the heavy doors leading into the building…

Link's eyes snapped open. The dream was there again, waiting for him as it so often did, and already there were beads of sweat along his forehead. Cursing himself for his weakness, he sat up and pulled open the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out a small, rattling container. Sleeping pills, the strongest ones available. He had had to save up for two months just to afford them. Shaking two from the container, Link popped them into his mouth and swallowed. Lying down again, he waited for the drugs to do their trick.

They wouldn't stop the dreams, he knew. But at there was at least a chance he wouldn't remember them.