āWeāre coming up on the Argon city checkpoint, sir.āThe leading security officer glanced at the sentry whoād addressed him for a fraction of a nano before his attention returned to his data-pad. He was in the process of reviewing his agenda for the microcycle, along with the personnel files of the military programs heād be meeting. Argon was an outlying city of meager size, managed almost exclusively by rectified soldiers; the officer in charge - General Tesler - was known to be proficient, though unremarkable. It seemed they were having some issues with an insurgent program. A strange location for such a problem to occur, an out-of-the-way townā regardless,Ā Dyson was going ensure that they were handling it effectively. As his ship approached the loading dock, he put the data-pad away and stoodā by the time theyād landed, he was waiting in front of the door, focus straight ahead. He had been expecting a program of Teslerās rank to appear alert and introduce themselves promptly, but when the doors slid open, the General was whispering to one of the executive officers who stood with himā Pavel, was it? If he remembered correctly, that one had been a scientist before the fall of Flynn. Dysonās eyes narrowedā he didnāt trust military programs who hadnāt always specialized in security.As far as he was concerned, the Argon officers were off to a rather careless start.āDyson, what a wonderful surprise! To what do we owe this pleasure?āGeneral Tesler had finally decided to pay attention. Dyson walked toward the other program at a casual pace, hands clasped behind his back, an indifferent expression on his face. āI think you know,ā he said as though speaking with Tesler bored him. āIām here to fire youā condemn you to the Games.āThe look of shock that followed, and the desperate gawking of the two junior officers behind Tesler, was priceless. Dyson couldnāt help but laugh at themā panicking, trying to hide their concern. Their collective response had also given him a piece of useful information, however: they werenāt fully convinced that their methods of leadership met his standards.āIām joking, of courseā itās just a customary review of our satellite ops. I doubt Iāll see anything to warrant that!āThe Marshal focused on them from his peripheral vision as he walked past them, careful not to turn his head and let them know that he was watchingā their eyes were following him with relief and skepticism. That was exactly how he wanted it⦠He wanted them to be afraid for their lives; terrified of making a mistakeā and under the most likely conditions to make one. āThereās also the matter of theā ah, whatās his name⦠Renegade?āāHeās nothing,ā Tesler replied in a rather unconvincing tone. āA minor nuisance.āDyson glanced at the General over his shoulder. āOddā because CLU hears different. Well, I guess Iāll have to see for myself.āAs he walked from the loading dock further into their base of operations, the leading officer noted to himself that Tesler was having a hushed argument with his two subordinatesā a sign that was not in the Generalās favor. First on Dysonās list of priorities was to review all of the surveillance footage of the Renegade⦠The impression heād gotten during his introduction was that Teslerās observational skills left much to be desired.