[b]DACYRIA SPACE, PIRATE VESSEL LITTLE PRINCESS[/b] --- Marco was relived, though it didn’t show, a heavy burden had been lifted from him. He took notice that nobody wanted a drink and decided to have one for himself before he replied to the young captain. A quick glug and Marco fastened the flask up and returned it to his suit pocket. Finally he responded with the inattention of someone who was well on their way to being drunk, “I certainly will, being rich I think it’s mandatory to be a gentleman in some way. Anyhow give me a moment to get your payment.” Marco reached inside his suit and pulled out a small paper thin tablet pad that he proceeded to unroll. Marco laid it on the table and allowed the microscopic camera to scan his eye, the paper flashed green and he rolled it up once again. A small flick and it moved across the table to where the young captain was sitting, Marco finished, “That concludes our deal, the money is there and just needs to be locked into a currency. I would recommend the Canton Alliances though, if all goes well they should be the dominant faction on this world soon enough.” Marco stood up and dusted his suit; a pirate directed him out of the room and added that his cargo was being loaded onto the small shuttle. Marco was walking out when a he noticed a large man had observing him. It was the man from the comm channel, no doubt an advisor to this young captain. Still, all the ease Marco felt on the completed deal turned to anxiety in one moment of the dark skinned man’s glance. [i]Those eyes[/i], Marco pondered on how familiar they seemed, that calculating look with that unwavering determination just beyond the surface. Marco remembered where he had seen those eyes before, the first day he had met Mira comb. She looked at him as this man did, and the animosity mixed with distrust under those cold eyes was as unmistakable there as it was here. Marco hurried himself out of the room, the walk to the shuttle was similar, but this time the jokes from the pirates that escorted him were less half veiled threats and more good hearted jests. Marco thought that while many on the crew were just glad to have a certainty on their paycheck there would be more than one on this ship that doubted his intentions. Marco silently hoped that he would not see the dark skinned man again, for distrust in a man’s eyes is terror, but distrust mixed with cold calculation was doom. Marco eliminated the thought from his mind and participated in the jokes until he was ready to leave. The pirates had been paid, Marco’s cargo was safe, and he had made his way to his ship. Still, he felt less at ease than when his death was almost a certainty. Something was coming, Mira had the eyes of that Pirate, and Marco wondered if she would betray him like one when it did. A knife in the back? Marco wondered as his shuttle separated from the pirate vessel and zoomed away, the vast ship fading in the distance. As time went on and the pirate ship faded from sensors Marco returned his thoughts to finishing what he had started doing some hours ago. Safe from harm he pulled out a small notepad and pen, old tools, from a small compartment in the shuttle, usually used for course correction calculations when instruments were down. Yet today these tools would write an obituary for a forgotten friend. Marco wondered how long it would be before his was written as the shuttle cruised toward Dacyria and the blue marble grew in size. [b]CANTON/ASM TERRITORY, AIRBASE 12A[/b] --- The sun had already begun to set when the order had been received. Now with the sky running red and orange the base seemed to be sitting against a scorched horizon, a shadow of a mountain that had its top sawn off to make room for runways. Harris looked out on his plane from the bench where he was sitting, his tablet paper in hand told him what his orders were, but the canisters being loaded into his transport made it abundantly clear. Harris looked down on the sheet and the neon letters outlined the mission plan exactly as he thought they would. He was to fly in the cover of darkness and bomb the entrances to caves all across the mountain range, while the bombs were only non-lethal weapons Harris knew all too well how dangerous they could be, and the night attack was no doubt a gambit at making sure the most Dacis were in the caves. He sighed and pulled on his helmet, as he stood and walked toward the plane his gunner came up to him and asked enthusiastically, “You excited sir? We finally get a chance to get those damn Dacis back.” Harris looked toward his gunner; though his face was hidden by the helmet Harris knew that the kid’s expression would be a dumb smile. Harris fastened his own helmet and responded, “Dan you realise we are in a plane? The natives would have a better chance fighting the tides. This isn’t us getting back, this is… Just unfair.” Dan looked at him and cocked his head, inadvertently sending a small reflection off the polished metal and into Harris’s eyes. As Harris winced Dan responded, “How can you say that? They killed humans, and those guys sure as hell didn’t have planes. We’re showing the bastards what humans can do, don’t need to be fair.” Harris adjusted his helmet so the light was away from his eyes and replied, ‘I suppose it doesn’t, but this isn’t me putting down a riot or a rebellion like I used to. I don’t like this, they never had a chance.” With that the two stepped onto the plane and started their normal checks. They got a green light that the bombs were loaded and spun up the engines. The transport jumped straight up into the sky, the blue jets under then turned in one direction and in a second they were heading out at hundreds of kilometers an hour. Behind them five other transports shot off like little rockets in their own directions trailing small blue wisps. The flight was quiet, as always. While Dan was young and chatty and Harris was old and had more than enough stories to occupy him it had become their own dynamic that each person stayed silent during the flight, perhaps it was to focus, and perhaps it was because both of them knew that anything could happen while they were up here. Some time had passed and the sky was black when the first target was in range, Dan spoke up, “Target in range, direct drop authorized?” Harris echoed the question to command and to his dismay received authorization. He relayed to Dan, “You are clear, I am slowing us for a clean shot into the cave. With that the transport slowed just enough that when the three bombs were released they glided perfectly into the dark spot against mountainside. Out of it Harris sighted the telltale blast of red gas that seeped out of the cave like an open wound. Dan gave a woot and Harris replied, “Let’s hit the next target.” It was four hours and four caves later when they arrived at base, Harris eased the transport onto the pad and felt the reassuring bump when it made contact and he cut the engines. Dan was saying something but Harris was too busy envisioning those bleeding caves, he wondered if anyone had died by inhalation, it would not have been the first time he killed, but it would certainly have been the first time he killed someone he had no quarrel with. [b]CANTON/ASM TERRITORY, MOUNTAINS FOOT CITY[/b] --- Mira had watched the screen laid into her glass table for some time. It displayed a topographical map pf the mountains, on it blue dots moved around symbolizing her transports, like dogs they moved in on their targets. The blue dots had moved from one place to another throughout the night, each time a small green triangle was displayed upon a successful gas deployment. She smiled at it, the natives were and problem and she was dealing with it. Had Marco not been as soft as he was she would have gladly replaced gas with incendiaries and ended the problem once and for all. Still, she had to deal with Marco for now. She leaned back in her chair as the dots all converged on their starting location and thought on Marco’s father. Never before had Mira met a man with so much determination. Old as he was the man commanded the attention of others merely by his presence. She remembered the day he came to her office and gave her this job; he told her that it was because she was efficient. Still Mira always thought the real reason was because he wanted someone capable of leading when, not if, his son failed. As much as the old man loved Marco the disappointment showed in his eyes when he told her about him. Marco Astani, the old man’s son. He was next in line for a spot on the administrative board of the IMIB and Mira thought, entirely undeserving of it. It had taken her no convincing to take a job as a planetary IMIB representative, even after being told about Marco’s failures. He lived up to expectation and Mira had watched him fall further the longer he was on this planet, drinking and personally dealing with pirates. He was doing anything to evade responsibility. Mira decided then that if Marco didn’t want responsibility, she would make sure he had none. A smile crept up her face and stayed there, for longer than anyone had ever seen, and longer than anyone would. [b]UARSH, CONVOY ALPHA 3[/b] --- The vast flat shrub land was without shade and the sun was high. It was usually at day when the convoy slept to avoid the heat, though Dr. Shae was still awake, looking aimlessly through a window she opened and into the distance. A woman in her thirties, Olivia Shae had long brown hair that looked almost red in the pricing light with somewhat tanned white skin and dark green eyes. Technical head of the expedition it was her responsibility to make sure all the science instruments worked, which only meant she, who had a doctorate, had been assigned as a glorified repairwoman. The light shining in through the window woke her assistant who slept opposite to the Doctors bunk. Dazed the light sleeper grumbled, “Would you close that damn window Olivia?” The doctor did as she was asked and closed the window with a light tap of a touch button. She walked back to her bunk and sat on it upright. She spoke softly, clearly as tired as her assistant, “Sorry Peter, I was just looking out there. I lived near the deserts of Karshn on Ellisandra 1a, this place reminds me of home. Though I never did prospect for a mine at home… Not in Karshn at least, that desert was held as scared there.” Peter pulled his blanket over his head and responded in a muffled voice, “Ok, do you know what reminds me of home and is also sacred? Sleep. So go to bed already.” Olivia chuckled softly and went to her own bunk, she lay down and let sleep take her. By night they would dig into the soil in an attempt to verify the concentrated deposits of various minerals they had located below. That would be the time to be awake and alert, not now, not in the hot sun. [b]DACYRIA HIGH ORBIT, LOGISTICS STATION[/b] --- Jason was still thinking on what he had allowed to happen, he had been off a shift and had slept on it before it came time for him to take the stations helm again. It pained him to think money was more important than others lives, but he had a family on Perseus 3b and if he not meet his family’s income expectation their living conditions would be downgraded. Normally that wouldn’t have been an issue, if it were not for his daughter being born without her legs. Even in this age of science and the healing of mortal wounds it seemed that if you were born without the hardware you needed, there was little to repair. Jason thought back to her, her smile when he had told it would be ok, and her sadness when he told her he had to leave. It had been years and the age showed on Jason’s face. He hoped she was as happy as she had always been, he never did understand how she was that way, even in the face of her disability. Jason thought on it all and realised it had been more than a month since he had been able to talk to her over FTL comms. He decided to talk to Marco about it; FTL comm use was precious as channels were few, but Marco had always been a good man, even if he was a drunk. As nice as the thought was the sudden blaring of alarms and cacophony of voices shouting ripped it away from him. Eventually he stood up and roared over it all “Calm down! What’s going on here?” The silence was sudden, and after a long minute deep within the crowd below, a woman called out, her location Jason was unable to see. She spoke loudly so he could hear, “We have detected unknown vessels entering the system, and their approach vector leads them into Dacyria orbit. The readings indicate unknown jump system and unknown hull configuration, we expect alien design.” Before Jason could respond another voice chimed in, “Initial readings are showing immense power generation off surface scans of the vessels, they are advanced.” That last line was enough to be worrying, Humanity had encountered many aliens, but the more advanced ones usually kept to themselves, why would an unknown race come here? Of all places? In a calm voice not representative of the way he felt Jason spoke out, “Back to your stations, hail them and send them the following message.” Jason waited for some time as the chaos was returned to order, he sat back into his seat and waited. When an operator gave him the nod he spoke with a clear and determined voice, “Unknown vessels, you have entered orbit of Dacyria, we on behalf of the ASM and IMIB bid you welcome. If possible we would like to initiate contact and send an emissary, if colonization is your intention we feel it vital that communications lines are established.” He gave the sign and the communication was cut. Marco would want to be the first to greet an alien race, but he was gone. Mira would be the second, but she was planet side and likely asleep. It was IMIB policy to establish contact before other parties, but Jason soon realised that by doing so he had become the only capable person available to be the emissary. A voice called out from below, “Sir? Are you sure about that?” Jason responded softly, “I fear there is little choice in this matter.”