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"Or both," I mutter. "Nothing says 'congratulations on your commendation' like a surprise investigation."

"Stay positive, Thorne. Could be a promotion."

I snort. "To what? There's nothing above Elite Sentinelexcept retirement or—" I stop myself before finishing the thought.

Or cybernetic conversion. The rumors about what happens to exceptionally high-performing Sentinels who suddenly disappear from the ranks are just that—rumors. But persistent ones.

Briefing Room Seven is one of the smaller tactical spaces, used for sensitive assignments rather than standard mission distribution. When we enter, I'm surprised to find only one person waiting, Intelligence Division Chief Marlow, a slender woman with sharp eyes and a reputation for handling Unity's most delicate operations.

"Sentinels," she greets us, activating the privacy protocols with a wave of her hand. The transparency panels frost over, and a subtle hum indicates audio dampening fields.

"Division Chief," Trent acknowledges with perfect respect. "How may we serve Unity today?"

Marlow studies us for a moment before responding, her gaze lingering longer on me than I’d like.

"I've reviewed your synchronization results," she says finally. "Quite remarkable. The highest compatibility ever recorded between non-genetically related partners."

I force myself to maintain a neutral expression despite the unease curling in my stomach. "We've worked together for three years, Chief. Extended partnerships naturally develop stronger neural pathways."

"Naturally," she echoes, her tone suggesting nothing about this is natural. "What's particularly interesting is the way your enhancement reactions coincided with this heightened synchronization."

So thisisabout my medical anomalies. I resist the urge to glance at Trent and keep my expression blank.

"I'm told the enhancement issues are being addressed through modified protocols," I say carefully.

"Indeed." Marlow gestures to the briefing display. "However, your unique situation presents an unexpected opportunity."

The display illuminates with a schematic of Lower Arcology sectors, the industrial and maintenance levels where most citizens never venture. Unlike the gleaming perfection of Upper and Mid levels, Lower Arcology is functional rather than aesthetic, the machinery of Unity's existence laid bare in its utilitarian design.

"We've detected an unusual pattern of resource allocation in Lower Sector 19," Marlow explains. "Nutrition supplements and medical supplies disappearing from inventory without proper documentation."

"Internal theft?" Trent suggests.

"Something more concerning." Marlow expands the display to show surveillance footage of a maintenance worker passing a small package to another worker. "We believe a sympathizer network has established itself among the maintenance class."

"Sympathizers," I repeat. "Splinter sympathizers? Inside the arcology?"

The concept shouldn't shock me, but it does. Unity's indoctrination begins at birth, teaching every citizen that genetic modification is an abomination, that Splinters represent a threat to human purity and survival. The idea that Unity citizens would actively help those they've been taught to fear seems almost impossible.

Almost.

"We've confirmed at least seven maintenance workers involved," Marlow continues. "But we believe they're connected to someone in Mid-Level coordination with access to resource distribution systems."

"Why not simply apprehend the known sympathizers?" Trent asks, the logical question.

"Because we want the entire network, not just the lower-level operatives." Marlow's eyes narrow. "And we want tounderstand why this particular pattern is occurring now, coinciding with the increased Splinter infiltration attempts in our sector."

She taps the display, bringing up personnel files. "This is where you come in. We need a team to infiltrate Lower Sector 19 and identify the key coordinators of this network."

"With respect, Chief," I say, "wouldn't Intelligence Division operatives be better suited for long-term infiltration? Sentinels are more visible?—"

"Which is precisely why you're perfect for this assignment," Marlow cuts me off. "No one would expect Elite Sentinels to be deployed as maintenance workers. Your presence will go unquestioned."

She swipes the display to show two new identity profiles. "You'll be inserted as a bonded couple recently transferred from Eastern Arcology. Maintenance Technician Class 3."

I blink. "Bonded couple?"

"Lower Arcology housing is assigned by family unit," Marlow explains. "Unattached technicians are housed in dormitory settings with constant supervision. As a bonded pair, you'll be assigned private quarters with significantly less monitoring."