A bright light suddenly snaps on. The visual receptors of a small Su-Matoran are strained, and a blurry image begins to materialize.
"Where...?"
Andtup suddenly comes back to himself. The last thing he remembered was walking his patrol route on the edge of the Iron City. What could've happened to him? Maybe...something to do with a vahki? Thinking hurt his brainstock.
"Save your breath, as any proponent of a less than savory regime knows, it is the interrogators that do the asking."
Andtup almost cracked a smile. "And what is it you want?"
"Your services. We have become aware of the plight that has befallen your once glorious city, and we know that though all sides struggle to rebuild and control this wasteland, the best you can do is build something on rotten foundations."
"Cut to the chase," says Andtup, "What do you need me to do?"
"You are a member of the highest inner circle of the Talinist regime, and in charge of production and designs for new weaponry."
"I see you have done your research."
"You will commission the production of our own designs, and take credit for them."
"Will I? That sounds plagaristic."
"Indeed."
"What are these designs?"
"You may look them over once we release you."
"I see. And what if we do not have the resources to sustain such an operation?"
"We will see to it that you are supplied with shipments of parts in unmarked vehicles at the Ov-Metru beaches once a week."
"Clever."
"We hope you will be a great asset to us."
"I hope I do not disappoint."
Suddenly a black shadow moved into Andtup's vision, and he knew no more.