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After I finished the original Duskwalker, I started on this... then just... stopped for some reason I can't figure out,
and it remained half finished until Spud found the original and reminded me of it. So, once I post the tolerable chunks done before I picked it up again, and
the several pages written in the last week, the parts afterwards will be a bit smaller and a bit more spread out. Apologies to those of you that enjoyed the
other one Smile

***

Fiona held the rifle steady, resting her arm on the fence post, all her attention on the scope. Behind her, Chris watched silently. She adjusted her aim a few
times, before squeezing the trigger gently. With a sharp crack, the bullet shot out of the barrel, and Chris saw a rabbit jerk and fall nearly a hundred meters
away. "Nice," he said approvingly as Fiona worked the bolt and lowered the rifle. "You're getting the hang of it."

"Well, shooting rabbits isn't exactly hard," she said.

"Well, no it isn't," he agreed as they walked towards the rabbit. "But, it does have the advantage of being a good place to start. It's
after that that things start to get a little more complicated." He knelt down to pick up Fionas target, a blood-stained hole having taken the place of a
portion of neck and head. "Excellent. No metal in the meat," he said, holding it up. "Mind you, if you used one of Amys weapon, you'd have
left a burnt husk behind."

"So that's why you use these all the time," she said.

"Not all the time," Chris noted. "But energy weapons are overkill. Fine for giant monsters, soldiers and whatever... but a lot of the
time-" he patted the rifle, "-these work just as well. Come on," he said, standing up. "Three more, and we've got dinner."

***

Duskwalker: Homecoming

By Chris Wood

***

Duskwalker had landed at the spaceport - really just a massive field that was kept empty- at the edge of Yaren, a small town of maybe three thousand people on
the agri-world of Trenton. They'd been carrying close to five hundred tons of rabbit poison, the vermin having exploded into a full blown menace in the
past few years. Those sealed crates had been replaced by even more crates, these ones carrying grain.

The crew had used the extra day on planet to relax, enjoy the open spaces, and in one case, practice using a rifle.

"Got dinner," Chris called out as he and Fiona walked into the cargo bay, holding up half a dozen rabbits.

"Sweet," Ben said from the top of one of the crates where he'd been reading a book. "You want to skin them and then leave, or...?"

"Might as well get into space," the ships captain replied. "Amy on board?"

"Got back twenty minutes ago," he said, sitting up and grabbing the bookmark. "I'll close her up." Chris nodded, heading for the stairs
as Fiona put the rifle on a crate and reached for its case.

***

"Ah, space!" Amy declared, making a sweeping gesture that was meant to indicate the sight beyond the control rooms wide windows. "How I have
missed you!"

Ben laughed. "Amy, we were planetside for three days. It's not really enough time to get homesick for the void."

"So you say," she responded, taking a seat. "But I don't trust being out in the wide open like that. It's just asking for something to
come out of the bushes and carve you open."

The pilot gave her an odd look. "You do realize that Ragol is the exception to wildlife, not the rule?" he asked."Sure, there is scary freaky
animals out there, but still..."

She chuckled. "Just keep believing that Ben, and one day, a huge creature will emerge from a forest, kill you, and then you'll be wishing you listened
to me."

"Oooo...kay," Ben said, working the controls. "Course is set. I'm gonna go see how dinner's going." Amy waved as he left, rolling
his eyes.

The moment the door closed, she giggled. "He's too easy."

***

"How long until dinner's done?" Ben asked as he came into the dining area. "I think Amy's at the crazy stage of hunger."

"Not too much longer," Fiona said, before pushing Sato away. "You don't eat organics," she told the tiny droid. "So stop
trying!" Sato chirped and tried to duck around her hand again.

"You spend more time playing robot defense then cooking," Chris noted, not looking up from his book. "Mag, go annoy your partner!" Sato
ignored him. The ships captain stood up, walked over and grabbed the Mags main body, pulling it away. It chirped in protest as he buried it under a couch
cushion and sat back down. "Course set?" he asked Ben, starting on his book again.

"Yep. Four hours to the slip-space limit."

"And how long until League space?" Fiona asked.

"Four days, assuming we don't hit one of their border patrols," Ben replied.

"Let's not test our luck. I want to make a sweep of the ship after dinner. I don't want anything for the Office of Frontier Security to kick up a
stink about," Chris said.

"They need a reason?" Ben quipped.

"No, but lets not encourage them, shall we?"

Sato chirped as it tried to get free.

***

Two hours later, the four of them were in the cargo bay, removing gear from the weapons locker and loading it into one behind another wall.

"Why do you have a second hidden weapons locker you keep empty?" Fiona asked as she handed Chris a rifle.

"Because it's easy to find in a search by professionals," Chris said. "So, we point it out to the OFS goons around the same time they sort
of notice it. Makes them feel good and clever, and suggests that we're trying to cooperate."

"Because they're so powerful and intimidating, and we'd never think of trying to mislead them," Amy said with a hand over her heart. She took
one of her guns out, studied it for a long moment, then put it back. "Better they not see all of the Ragolian weapons, methinks..."

"So we give them what they want... while tricking them senseless?" Fiona asked as Ben handed her a box of energy cells.

"Exactly. There's no way that an OFS border patrol ship isn't going to be crewed by assholes," replied Duskwalkers pilot. "They're
the public face of the galaxy's most disliked organization. It's expected of them."

"What about the Imperial Inquisition?" Amy said.

"They've figured out that outside the Imperium, everyone will kick their ass. OFS is still too arrogant to notice."

"Ah."

"So, we keep them happy," Chris said. "Give them what they expect and hope they take it."

"And if they don't?" Fiona asked.

Chris shrugged. "Then we're in for a lot of grief for no real reason at all." The young woman looked at him as she considered that, then shrugged
herself and handed him the box.

***

The next few days passed in relative peace, with nothing of note seeming to happen. Chris and Fiona spent a day checking the backup life support after a rat
fried itself chewing some wiring. Amy mentioned an interest in serving as a backup official pilot, just in case. Ben took the time to start her on the training
material. Sato was distracted after it was discovered that his wireless connections allowed him to use the game console in the main living area. Letting him
play with that got him out of everyones hair.

Two days later, Chris was standing on one of the upper walkways in the cargo bay, watching Fiona and Amy spar below. Amy was using a padded staff, while Fiona
had the sword that had been mailed to her a month before, a protective cover clamped around the blade.

Watching as Amy forced Fiona back across the open space, Chris noted that while Fiona was nowhere near the Hunters skill level, she'd improved quite a bit
in the past month and a half. It still annoyed him that they hadn't been able to work out who sent them that sword, or the money packaged with it. It felt
like they'd been done a favor, without any idea on what they'd have to do in return.

Fiona yelped as Amy rapped her knuckles with her staff, her grip on her sword weakening. The Hunter slid the end of her staff along the blade before twisting
it around in a disarming move. She'd used it on the younger girl before though, and Fiona pulled back, shaking her knuckles to get feeling back before
moving forward again cautiously.

"She's learning fast," Ben said, walking along the ramp. Chris nodded as Fiona worked at trying to get through Amy's defense. "Bit too
showy for me though."

"You tend to just shoot people," Chris commented with a wry grin.

"Solves the problem before they even get close," the pilot responded with a grin of his own. His friend chuckled, before they both looked up as
lights in the roof shifted to a red tint and an alarm sounded. "Navigational alert," Ben said, jogging along the ramp. Chris followed him as Amy and
Fiona stopped sparing.

Ben ran into the control room and dropped into the pilots seat, taking Duskwalker out of automatic pilot. "Sensors are picking up a gravitational source
directly ahead of us," he said, studying one of the displays. "There shouldn't be anything there."

"Are we off course?" Fiona asked, coming in behind Ben.

"No, we're where we meant to be," Chris replied. "It's got to be an Interdictor."

Ben looked over at his shoulder at him. "Interdictor ships? I thought the League had most of them on the Imperial Front."

"Guess the rumors were wrong," the ships captain replied. "Drop us into real-space Ben. No point in risking damaging the drives with the safety
cutout." Ben nodded, his left hand moving over to a control panel.

Fiona glanced at the sensor display, which was currently showing a rather large and surprisingly neat circle. It grew larger in the screen as Duskwalker
continued to approach it. Once the ship entered that region of slipspace, the gravity signature would set off the ships emergency measures and knock them back
into conventional space. From what she'd heard, it'd probably be rough too.

"What if it's not a League ship?" she asked. The others looked at her. "I mean, what if it's someone dangerous?"

"Like pirates or something?" Amy asked. When Fiona nodded, she shook her head. "It's unlikely. Interdictor ships are pretty rare. I doubt
anyone besides a major government like the League could have them."

"Yeah, you'd hear about it if it happened, no matter how hard they tried to cover it up," Ben agreed. "Besides, if it is dangerous,
we're dropping in a good distance outside the gravity signature. We should be able make a run for it if it goes bad." The view outside the windows
shifted back to a bland star field."Okay then, running active scans. Nothing yet..." A moment later, he nodded. "I'm picking up one ship.
Big one, twelve million kilometers ahead. Not the Interdictor, it's too close to us."

"Just the one ship?" Amy asked. "I would have expected more."

"Well, there probably are, but to our real space scanners? We're only seeing one." Another panel began beeping, drawing his attention. "And
we're being hailed. Audio only." He tapped a button.

"Civilian vessel, this is Solarian League Border Patrol Vessel Andrew Urther. You are to set your vessel to the heading and velocity we provide you and
prepare to receive a customs shuttle for inspection," a harsh voice said.

Chris glanced at Ben. "We getting an ID tag with that?"

"Yeah, it looks real. Got the course details too."

He nodded and reached over Bens shoulder and turned on the mike. "Andrew Uther, this is the Independent Ship Duskwalker. We are adjusting course now, and
am ready to accept your shuttle. Estimate time to course intercept at two hours and seven minutes."

"Understood." The comm went dead.

Chris flicked the mike off and shook his head in amusement. "Cheerful, aren't they?" Amy commented in amusement.

The other three all smiled. "Yeah. Okay, we've got two hours, let's make sure we didn't miss anything," Chris said.

***

Chris checked the airlock seals one last time, then unlocked the hatch and stepped back, keeping his hands visible without really noticing it. The rest of his
crew, including Sato, were standing in the cargo bay, their expressions somewhere between neutral in Amys case, and somewhat nervous in Fionas.

The main doors slid open, revealing over half a dozen men. Seven of them were wearing lightweight body armor, colored a dull blue and bearing a multitude of
insignia. The short-barreled rifles they all carried were held in tight, alert grips, although they weren't aiming at any of Duskwalkers crew.

It was the eighth man standing in the middle of the group that drew their attention. Instead of battle armor, he was wearing a near spotless officers duty
uniform. Lieutenant, judging by his rank insignia.

"Welcome aboard the Duskwalker," Chris said, stepping forward.

"Yes, I'm sure it's wonderful for you," the officer said, stretching out his words slightly in an odd accent."However, this is the tenth
trashhauler I've had to search today and, ah, I'm getting rather tired of it." He stepped forward. "Your passports, starship registry
certificate and pilots licenses."

Chris forced back a scowl and handed over the datacards. The officer took them and slid each one into an access port on his dataslate, studying the information
it displayed with a bored air. "Miss Rose, you are a member of your planets, ah, Hunters Guild, I believe the term is?"

"That's right." She ignored the attention several of the soldiers were giving her.

"Given your worlds rather aggressive nature, I assume that you have photon weapons aboard?" At her nod he turned to Chris. "I'll need to,
ah, inspect them. And the licenses for those weapons of course."

Chris nodded. "They're stored in a weapons locker-"

"-here," one of the soldiers said, nodding towards the wall. Chris didn't quite hide his surprise, and annoyance, at the Leaguers finding it so
fast. The Lieutenant smirked slightly as Chris removed the panels to reveal the actual locker.

"I doubt this locker is, ah, a standard design feature," he said in a tone that made Ben want to punch him.

"We often provide passenger transport," Chris replied smoothly. "While there is a small arms locker near the secondary airlock, we all feel a
little better knowing that any passengers that may be trouble don't know where to get anything that could puncture the hull."

"Ah, yes, of course," the officer said, conceding the point. "Still, one must wonder if this is the only hidden compartment you, how should I
say, not wish those you don't employ to know about?"

"You're welcome to look around sir, but I believe that the kind of activities that would require such compartments to be too much risk for too little
profit," Chris smiled, taking the weapon permits from where they were hanging on the inside of the locker door.

"Very true, but I will have my men make a routine search, just to be sure," he said idly, looking over the permits. "These are for all the
weapons?"

"Just the Ragolian ones," Chris said, handing over a second set. "These are for the more conventional firearms."

"I see, I see..." he said, ignoring his men as they made their way through the cargo bay. "This all seems in order. Now, ah, if you could show
me around the ship?"

"Of course sir. Any preferences to where you'd like to see first?"

***

"Why is it we always get the asshats?" Chris wondered half an hour later, once Duskwalker had separated from the League shuttle.

"Because all the good naval officers actually have shit to do," Ben replied calmly as he brought the engines back online. "That shuttle's
not blocking the flight path they gave us Amy?"

"No, we're clear," the Hunter reported, checking her console.

"Great. Let's get the hell out of her before they decide to give us any more grief." Firing the maneuvering thrusters, he altered their heading,
then fired up the main thrusters, launching them forward again.

"Jump back to Slipspace as soon as we're clear," Chris said.

"You got it... Still can't figure out why they'd be out in this region," the pilot commented. "Or why they'd have their inderdictors
operating outside a star system."

"Why is that odd?" Fiona asked.

"Remember how we saw the gravity well in Slipspace before we hit it?" he asked. At her nod, he continued. "The reason we could is because there
wasn't a gravity well on the starcharts at all, so the computer noticed it was odd. Interdictors tend to operate inside star systems because the star hides
the artificial grav well with their own."

"So the computers don't catch on until it's too late," she said in understanding.

"Bingo. The ships hit a grav well strong enough to trip emergency cutoffs in the slipspace manifold, and they drop back to realspace in a place they
can't just jump back out from." Ben leaned back in his chair. "Which makes for the question of why were they just sitting there where everybody
could see them?"

***

Later that night, Fiona was in her room, looking out the tiny viewport at the blue clouds of slipspace. Her mood had soured during the day, leaving her with a
desire to be alone with her thoughts. The others had gotten to know her well enough to give her some space.

Legally, she was already home. With New Wales now a 'provisional member' of the League, even the void a hundred light years from her world was legally
home... in a sense. In reality, the bizarre network of laws and regulations the ancient and unwieldy government possessed meant that, depending on which member
planets endorsed New Wales, and which planets were involved in crippling the small world to make it 'need' that membership, she could be little more
then a slave away from her work-zone.

It wasn't exactly something the Leagues immense media-engine liked people finding out, but in some parts of the galaxy, it was an open secret. With a
political structure that included planets like Mesa, the core of the galaxies genetic slave industry, and the utter inability of the central government to
control such planets in any way, the League was hardly the beacon of civilization it liked to claim it was.

Finding information on just what that meant for New Wales, and for Fiona personally, had proved to be difficult. Few merchants apparently traveled to the
planet now, and the military and the media seemed unwilling to let too much information out. Even the League Embassy on Ragol had given Duskwalkers crew little
in the way of usable information, which Chris had termed 'all that extra effort to BS us shows they care.'

Which led to her sitting here, alone, brooding over the fate of everyone she loved in the massive gap that seemed to fill her life now. No answers, nothing but
more questions on everyone and everything from before she woke up.

As she sat there, space outside rippled, the blue becoming interlaced with strands of golden light, which spun around each other in an intricate pattern before
fading out. Her father had shown her one on her first week in slipspace, calling them 'space-flowers'.

She watched as the flowers continued to grow and vanish, moving ever outward from their point of origin. It took nearly five minutes to fade entirely. Fiona
sat there a moment longer, then, feeling much better, got up off her bed and went to get something to eat.

Chris and Ben had pulled out a chess board and a deck of cards, each of which actually affected the game. She came in just in time to see Ben blow up his
castle, taking out his friends King, parked too close.

"I regret that I have only one life to give for my chessboard!" Ben declared, before knocking over the pieces. "Kaboom."

"Hey wait a second! The purpose is to force a surrender of enemy royalty! To assassinate the King is a violation of both the Rules of Engagement and the
Articles of War," Chris protested, mostly for forms sake.

"Bullshit. You had your bishop burn my queen at the stake!"

"Well, look at a Queens powers! Teleporting across the entire board, moving in every direction, slaying even the Knights of the Realm. Obviously
witchcraft!"

"What is this, the Imperium? Fiona, help me out here."

"Sorry Ben, I stay out of international chess diplomacy," she replied smoothly, going to the fridge. "Ask Amy."

***
I do hope that you have more soon. I have to admit, I've become a fan of yours now. Wink
Point of order! in Knightmare chess you cant use a card effect to take out the King... something I happen to remember cause in UF's Symphony of the Sword
something similar came up and UF-G explained that was da rules only Kate and Utena were tired and loopy...
Hear that thunder rolling till it seems to split the sky?
That's every ship in Grayson's Navy taking up the cry-

NO QUARTER!!!
-- "No Quarter", by Echo's Children
Well, yeah. Hence, Chris protested Smile Also, neither of them take it seriously, and make up new rules all the time (as shown by the card 'Goddamned
Bats')
Heh. This is very cool. I'd love to read more.
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.
***

Two days later, Duskwalker dropped out of slipspace and made its way into the Miran system. It had no inhabitable planets, but its position had, centuries ago,
made it a perfect place to build hundreds of orbital factories dedicated to taking in raw materials from the ten or so agri-worlds in the sector, pumping out
the food for the hundred and five other inhabited planets.

Which made Miran one of most crowded star systems in this region of space. Ben and Chris were both busy, making certain that Duskwalker had a registered place
in the queue, while Amy and Fiona looked out the main windows, catching glimpses of a number of starships. No two seemed to be alike, ranging from small
transports to a number of super-freighters that were nearly the size of Pioneer Two. One of those came within a hundred kilometers of Duskwalker and nearly
drifted into their flightpath, drawing an irritated "check your nav beacons asshole!" from Chris.

"On the hull... those look like railguns," Amy said.

Fiona glanced at images from the hull cameras, and saw tiny needles on the massive hull. She couldn't tell what they were, but if Amy said so...
"Armed freighters?" she asked, still a little unsure.

"I'd heard rumors on the net about it," she replied. "With the League putting most of its Navy on the Imperial border, troublemakers have
been able to sneak in elsewhere. A ship like that... It's cargo is literally worth billions. Hell, so is the ship. With that much at stake... I could
easily see them telling the League to shove their weapons restriction laws. And depending on what planet they belong to..."

"Democracy at work," she quipped. "Chris, where are we going?"

"Well, that, I'm trying to get an answer on. Station One-One-Nine apparently has some sort of problem with unloading, they're backed up. So,
we're being rerouted. Hopefully, I'll be able to get us a parking berth at one of the civilian stations afterward. This place is a bargain hunters
dream."

The girl shrugged, looking at another super-freighter. "Why do they even need us?" she asked. "Why not just use those things?"

"They cost more then some military ships of the line, and they actually carry too much material." Fiona gave Amy an odd look. "Our cargo was
harvested earlier then expected, remember?"

"There wouldn't be enough from Trenton to fill one of those things," she said, catching on.

"Not for another month and a half," Chris said. "We fill those little gaps and unexpected shipments." He turned his attention back to his
headset.

Duskwalker followed its assigned flight path, flying over a pair of super-freighters that seemed to have a swarm of smaller ships following in their wake. As
they passed, Fiona began to amuse herself by using the exterior cameras to zoom in and look at various shops. It was in doing that that she first noticed the
smaller craft. One-man fighters, looking more like atmospheric vehicles then most spacecraft, moving between the shipping lanes in groups of six or twelve.

"System defense forces," Ben replied when she asked about them. "Anything big happens to Miran, and billions of people are in danger of starving
to death. There's at least a League Navy task group here at any time, and three solid military stations that hold hundreds of fighters and shuttles."

"Since they can get around the naval lanes easier then a battleship at full military thrust," she said.

Ben chuckled. "Fast learner."

"Ben, you getting updated flight paths?"

He checked his console. "Downloaded. Altering heading."

***

After the gleaming metal and crystal spires of Pioneer Two, the civilian space station titled Hathoways Bridge came as something of a shock to Fiona. Seemingly
built out of whatever scrap metal could be found at the time, it was a cramped, crowded series of corridors and halls, thousands of people moving about their
business.

Many of them were much more obviously non-human then even Pioneers Casts, leaving the girl trying not to gawk at the sight of squat little reptile creatures
moving about, their air tanks occasionally leaking methane, or the eight foot tall beasts hidden behind a thick layer of fur, or the dozen or so other species
that moved through the crowd.

Chris smirked at the look on her face as they moved along. "Stop staring at the Unggoy," he said to her. "They tend to unnerve easy."

"Oh, sorry," she said as the stubby alien went past them. "It's just... I've never seen one in person. They're... taller then I
expected."

The Duskwalkers Captain chuckled. "Taller. They'd love that," he mused.

"I mean, I've seen aliens before, but never so many, and so, so," she searched for a word. "Natural?" Chris looked at her oddly.
"What I mean is, well, look at everyone here. No one really seems to notice it." She considered it for a moment. "That's what makes it so
impressive."

Chris thought about that for a minute, then nodded. "I think I get what you mean," he said, then looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Aha! Time
for you to experience a piece of alien cusine," he told her, heading towards a vendors stand. "They call it Ta'terin, but frankly, there's a
human term that matches it."

She waited as he spoke with the man behind the stand for a moment, paid and came back with two dark blocks on plastic sticks. "Here you go," he said,
handing her one. She looked at it curiously for a moment, before realising it was coated in a thick layer of icing, before shrugging and taking a bite.

The girl paused, then took a second bite and regarded it curiously. "It's cake," she said at last.

"Cake on a stick," he chuckled.

"Cake on a stick that doesn't crumble," she noted. "Oh what a world of wonders." Chris laughed, taking a bite of his own as they
continued on. After a moment, Fiona spoke up again. "So, where'd the others go?"

Chris shrugged. "Not a clue," he admitted. "Still, a little alone time for them might be a good thing," he added with a grin.

***

"This isn't a Gamemaster," Amy said, putting the game console back on the bench. "It's a knockoff. Now why would I pay good money for
this?" she asked.

"Yes, it's a knockoff," the storeowner said, backing up slightly. "Still, it plays all the games just fine, and is only a quarter of the
pric-"

"What about online?" she demanded. Ben ignored the sales argument, alternating between the junk on the other benches and idly watching the people
walking past the front window, trying to recognize the various alien species that appeared.

Unggoy, droids (All much more bulky and angular then Ragol Casts), some species he didn't recognise that reminded him of a bear crossed with a pitbull,
even a Dalek... crowd watching was proving extremely satisfying today, and that was before he saw a familiar face.

"Oh, either the universe is smaller then my science teacher said, or someone up there likes me," he chuckled. "Amy, forget about the
console," he said, heading for the door. She looked up and followed.

Bens target was a skinny human man that looked like he hadn't shaved in a week, in the middle of a discussion with a woman. "Authent codes for Degas
aren't exactly easy to get, but I know the right people," he said with a smirk. "The codes are legit, recovered from a freighter that went down.
The package includes all the information you'll need, for a price, naturally."

"Question is Jonal, does the price match your quality?" Ben asked, coming up behind him and clamping a hand on his shoulder. Jonal jerked, then
bolted, his jacket popping off and remaining in Bens hand. "Now that's a clever design feature," he said, giving chase. Amy followed him, with
the other woman blinking and following on general principles.

Jonal sprinted down the corridor and darted into an alley. Amy's ears twitched as she heard him growl. "What the hell Um'as? I paid you to be my
bodyguard, and you let a disgruntled customer walk right up to me?"

The trio came around the corner and skidded to a halt at the sight of a massive Sangheili leaning against the wall, the eight and a half foot reptile reading a
book. "You do not pay me enough to guard you all the time," he rumbled, the four mandibles of his mouth spreading wide. "I am on a break."

The woman leaned over to Ben. "So... what's your issue with Jonal?" she asked quietly.

"Ripped us off with a shipment of metals," he replied. "Looks like he's fallen on rough times since then." The woman nodded,
considering.

Amy frowned as he looked at her with what could possibly be described as a leer. "Well, is this one of your disgruntled customers?" he asked. Jonal
nodded rapidly, as the Sangheili barked a laugh and straightened up. "In that case, I am no longer on my break. And I shall consider the girl part of my
payment. Quite satisfying, while she lasts."

The Ragolian scowled, before Ben moved aside, motioning for the other woman to follow. She blinked. "Shouldn't we-?"

"Nah, she's a Hunter. Honor and independence and all that." He blinked as the Sangheili took a small cylinder from his belt. A moment later, it
extended into a long metal staff. "Huh, another staff fighter. Interesting. I'm Ben by the way."

"Luna," she replied as Amy merely waited. Um'as roared and charged, towering over the tiny elfin girl. Luna winced, expecting to see Amy tossed
back out into the main corridor, broken from the blow. Instead, she leapt, grabbed the staff, flipped around it and buried both feet in the beasts mouth. His
momentum actually reversed and he was sent flying into a pile of garbage, out cold.

The womans jaw dropped as Amy landed lightly, twirling the staff in one hand. "Now then, where were we?" she asked, only to see Jonal break into a
sprint.

"And again," Ben said, giving chase, the two women following.

***

Fiona picked up a cooking grill and studied it. "Now this, we need," she said.

Chris looked at her. "We do?" he asked, honestly confused.

She rolled her eyes. "Chris, your kitchen is in dire need of an upgrade."

"It's been fine for as long as we've owned it," Chris replied.

"That's because you're not the cook," she pointed out. He shrugged, conceding the point, before going off to browse. Idly, he flipped through
a stack of music albums, noting that these markets always had the best junk around, looking up just in time to see Jonal sprint down the hallway.

The man blinked, leaning towards the window. "I know that guy," he said to himself, before Ben, Amy and a woman he didn't recognize ran past in
pursuit. "Hell," he growled. "Fiona, come on!" he called out, running for the door.

Fiona looked up, then handed the grill to the storekeeper. "I'll be back for that," she said, following her captain.

Jonal ran through the sparse crowd, occasionally shoving people out of the way as he made several turns through the halls to try and lose his pursuers. It
didn't work, the five people sticking on his tail easily.

"Where'd you find him?" Chris asked as he caught up to them proper, blessing the fact he'd learned his lesson about getting in shape years
ago.

"Selling something to this lady," Ben replied, puffing slightly. "He wasn't happy to see us," he added with a grin. Jonal led them into
a larger hall that had been converted by the locals into a crude mall. As he ran down a frozen escalator, shoving a woman out of the way, Amy jumped over the
hand railing without touching it and dropped two dozen feet, rolling as she landed.

Chris snorted, vaulting the railing and landing on the roof of a stand. "There's a shock," he noted as the mystery woman did the same, Ben and
Fiona taking the stairs. "I'm Chris."

"Luna."

"What'd this guy do to you?" he asked as Jonal knocked over a stall attendant and a clothes rack. The pair avoided it easily as Fiona and Amy
detoured down a side path to try and intercept him.

"I was in a business deal with him. Now I wish to discuss how genuine it was," she said, dodging a surprised looking Dalek. Chris chuckled, then
swore as he saw the man running towards an elevator that was opening. Eyes narrowing, he pushed himself to run faster.

Jonal stumbled to a halt in the elevator, smacking his hand against a floor button. Spinning, he grinned at the approaching group, watching the door close.

Before it could do that however, Fiona grabbed the staff from Amys hand and threw it like a spear. Jonals eyes widened as it flew through the doorway, then saw
the glory of creation as it slammed into his crotch.

Duskwalkers Captain hissed as Jonals knees gave way, dropping him to the ground. The staff caught in the doors as they closed, holding the lift in place.
"Damn Fiona, where'd you learn to throw like that?" he asked.

"High school sports team," she said as the two men pulled the lift door open. Chris nodded as he stepped in and pulled Jonal up by one of his arms,
Luna grabbing the other.

Ben looked around at the gathering crowd. "Private show, move it along," he scowled, motioning for the other two women to get in the elevator. The
slim man stepped in after them and tabbed a button for a floor that, if he remembered the map, should allow for some empty rooms to talk to the thief in.

The thief in question whimpered, his legs still unable to hold his weight. "So how's about we have a talk?" Chris grinned as the lift moved. He
got a mixed gurgle in reply. Shrugging, the starship captain let him go, dropping him to the floor where he curled up in a semi-fetal position, trying to
clutch at his bruised privates protectively. "He's not going to be walking for a while."

"My heart bleeds," Ben said, before looking up at Fiona, who was starting to look somewhat horrified, and more then a little green. "Don't
fret too much," he assured her. "This creep's a con man and thief." Idly, he kicked the man in the stomach. "Cheated us out a few
thousand dollars on a shipment," he explained.

Chris gave him an annoyed look. "We nearly went bankrupt and had to take out a second loan on Duskwalker. Not what I'd call a few thousand." Luna
looked at him, then scowled at Jonal again, planning out her own questions.

His best friend shrugged. "Well, yeah, I'll admit that," he said, before the lift doors opened to reveal an empty corridor. "Let's find
a room, shall we?" he asked as he and Chris grabbed Jonal by the shoulders and dragged him out of the lift and down the hallway into an empty conference
room. Jonal yelped as the two men slammed him down onto a chair

"Gotta tell you Jonny boy, you look like shit," Chris said.

"He did just get clobbered," Ben noted.

"No, I mean besides that. I mean, look at him. Hasn't shaved, ratty clothes..."

"He stinks," Fiona noted.

Chris continued on without pausing. "Frankly, he's a bum. Which makes me wonder what you were doing business with him about," he said to Luna.
The woman merely looked at him calmly. "On second thought, no I don't," he decided, turning back to Jonal. "Now then, let's talk money,
shall we?" he smiled. "Namely, the money we lost when you changed our delivery location."

As the man whimpered slightly, Fiona leaned over to Ben. "Delivery location?"

"About a year ago, we were hired by Czerka Corp to make random runs out near Manticore," he explained. "This jerk was a mid-level data pusher
that started meddling with the paperwork. We delivered a shipment to the 'wrong' company, and he tried to hide it. Luckily for us, his bosses were
catching onto him, but..." He scowled.

"Look, I don't have any money," Jonal managed in an unsteady voice.

"You had enough money for a bodyguard," Amy noted, smacking the staff against his knee lightly, drawing a flinch. "Not a good one, but still, a
bodyguard."

"Okay, I have a little money," he admitted. "But I need it! I heard they've got a price on my head!"

Chris snorted. "Of course you have you dip. You stole from Czerka. What'd you expect, they'd shrug and move on? They have a reputation to
maintain. Still, you only stole... what, ten, twenty thousand dollars Solarian? With that kind of money, only the small time crowd would go after you... Or the
people that get lucky and run into you on the street," he grinned.

Jonal managed a weak smile. "You're a freight hauler. You can't afford a bounty hunter license. You can't make anything off me."

"We can turn you in," Ben noted. "I don't know about you guys, but that does bring a smile to my face."

"Gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling," Fiona agreed. Jonal squirmed, then winced at the pain in his crotch. "Oh stop that. Even I know you
don't try to steal from Czerka."

"They'll kill me!" he protested. "They'll kill me and you'll help them pull the trigger!" He let a small smile slip at the look
of unease that flickered across her face at the concept, failing to notice Chris reaching into his jacket.

A moment later, he was knocked off the chair as Duskwalkers captain slammed the butt of his pistol into the side of his head. "Jesus, what is with
you?!" he demanded, only to jerk to a halt at the view right down the pistol barrel.

"Jonal, Czerka thought we stole that shipment," he said in a cold voice. "They came after us. So I'm really not interested in what they do
to you. I'm more interested in paying off debts you caused, or at least get a little compensation."

Fiona looked at the others, a slightly uncomfortable look on her face, and was about to say something when Luna spoke up. "I'm afraid I can't let
you do that," she said calmly, having taken a small blaster from her jacket and aimed it at Chris. "I still have need of his services." By the
time she finished the sentence, the other three people had their guns out and aimed on her. Even Fiona, much to her own surprise.

The woman regarded them calmly, even as Chris mentally cursed himself for a rookie mistake. They'd just let the woman come with them, not even considering
that she may be a threat. "He's a con man," he said. "A thief, nothing more."

"Which is why I hired him," she said. "While I intend to determine if he was dealing fairly with me, I will have him alive."

Chris cocked back the hammer on his gun, the noise echoing in the silence. "Try it, and both you and him will be dead before you know it."

"So will you," she noted.

"Given the number of guns and where they're aimed, maybe I'll just roll shitty damage," he responded with a slight grin. "I seem to make
a habit of that."

A slight smirk appeared on her face. "Are you always this reckless?" she asked.

"Only with the beautiful ones," he answered. Amy narrowed her eyes slightly, planning to use her telekinesis to pull the gun up and away from Chris,
when the door was slammed open.

Fiona and Ben spun, bringing their pistols to bear on the bruised and angry Sangheili standing in the doorway, holding a bulky pistol of his own. "You
have my employer," he growled. "You will unhand him now."

Amy kept her own pistol trained on Lunas head, making a silent promise to never leave Sato on the ship, unable to provide backup, ever again.

"You've got a candy wrapper on your shoulder," Ben noted. Um'as glared at him.

"You dumped me in the garbage," he growled, mandibles flaring out.

"Considering Amy 'payment' was a really dumb move," he pointed out. The aliens eyes darted over to the Ragolian, lingering for a moment in a
way that made her skin crawl.

"She still is," he said calmly.

"Sangheili!" Luna snapped, drawing his attention. "I have as much interest in getting your employer out of this as-"

"What's this guys bounty?" Chris asked loudly.

"Thirty thousand Solarian Dollars," the alien replied.

"I'm guessing he's not paying you that much?"

"I have no legal way of claiming it." Chris nodded in understanding.

Amy smiled. "I do," she said. "The Ragolian Hunters Guild is recognized as legal bounty hunters." Luna shot her a furious look that she
promptly ignored. "How about it? It's more then this con man would be paying."

Um'as growled, his gun moving to Amy. The Ragolian recognized it as a Mauler, a Brute weapon that was essentially a miniature shotgun. Difficult for humans
to carry, perfect for an 'Elite', regardless of it being developed by their racial enemy.

Still, having it aimed at her was actually an advantage, given it would take at least one shot to overcome her personal shield, a protection Ben and Chris
lacked.

"So, that's a no?" Chris said with a grin.

"This female insulted me. I will be repaid."

Ben scowled at the reptile, studying him. The massive creature was clad only in light robes, lacking the layers of circuit laced armor plates needed for
Sanghieli energy shields. "You're unshielded Elite," he said suddenly. "The ladies are Ragolian Hunters."

The aliens eyes, along with Lunas and Jonals, widened in nervous surprise. "You can't get through their shields in one shot," Chris continued.
"We've got the gun advantage... but we're not looking to kill either of you."

"We're not letting you take him," Luna said calmly as Jonal whimpered.

"I know. You lose nothing from this," Chris said. "We at least got the satisfaction of this shit in pain." He looked over at Um'as.
"Which leaves the question of what you want more. A paycheck or a bit of payback."

The alien growled, mandibles pulling in, before he moved away from the door slowly, never taking his eyes, or Mauler, off Amy. Chris pulled Jonal up, still
holding his gun to the mans head. Ignoring the con artists pained whimpers, Duskwalkers crew moved towards the door.

"This isn't over Wood," he managed.

"Jonal, you're a fucking coward," he whispered in the mans ear. "Maybe next time you won't have a bodyguard and business deal to save
your ass. Keep that in mind."

He was the last one through the door, shoving Jonal at Um'as before slamming it and flicking the lock button. "Move!" he ordered, breaking into a
sprint for the elevators. Fiona was already there and hitting the call button. Chris got about sixteen meters before the Sangielli shoulder slammed the door
hard enough to snap the lock snib, bursting out into the hallway with a roar.

Chris ducked as Ben and Fiona raised their pistols and fired, the bullets and photon bolts missing, but throwing Um'as off balance and convincing him to
move back into the doorway for cover. Amy dropped in behind Chris, the Barrier on her arm activating and giving them cover until they reached the elevator.

Um'as leaned out and fired off several shells from his Mauler, only to have the pellets scatter after a short distance, ruining their effect. The moment
the elevator arrived, the four piled in, Fiona and Ben keeping their guns at the ready until the doors closed.

"We need to get to the ship," Ben said, reloading his pistol as Chris hit the buttons for five different floors.

"So much for shopping," Fiona sighed, checking her pistols charge, then doing the same. "...Would you really have killed him?"

"Would you think any less of me if I admitted I'd honestly considered it?" Chris asked quietly, the group hiding their pistols as they stopped at
the first floor.

The young woman considered it, then shook her head. "You're human," she said after a moment. "And you choose not to."

Duskwalkers Captain smiled slightly.

***
Wheee! Random encounters! (^_^)
(This is the last part of Homecoming that's currently written. From here, expect the posts to be a bit more spread out
and a little smaller. But I AM still writing it Smile

***

Three days after their misadventures in Miran, Duskwalker moved into orbit over New Wales. In the control room, Chris frowned as he looked over the sensor
panels. "I'm not seeing many ships," he admitted. "A few transport vessels, a freighter or two, and one ship with a Frontier Fleet
transponder. Looks like a light cruiser."

Next to him, Fiona studied the panels with a concerned look on her face. "That's it?" she wondered. "But... before I left, there were
hundreds of ships in orbit." She bit at her lip slightly, before looking out the windows at the brown-blue planet above them. "What the hell happened
here?"

Before anyone could reply, the comm panel started beeping for attention. "It's the Fleet Cruiser," Ben commented, flipping a switch.

"Civilian freighter, this is New Wales ATC, please respond."

Duskwalkers captain shared a look with Ben - a Frontier Fleet serving as Air Traffic Control? - then tapped the broadcast button. "This is Independant
Ship Duskwalker, requesting landing clearance for Ashtonvale."

"Landing clearance confirmed, transmitting flight path now."

After exchanging a few more comments, Chris closed the channel and looked at the others. "I don't know what things are like down there, and... I'm
sorry to say this Fiona, but..."

"Get our frames on and grab some guns?" she replied, expression unreadable.

He sighed, then nodded. "Let's play it safe for now. Take a gun, but keep them hidden. Ben, are we on course?"

"Yeah, we're good," came the reply. "We'll hit atmosphere in four minutes, sky looks clear."

As she left the control room, Fiona noted that she was carrying a gun was becoming the normal state of affairs for her now. Curious how that seemed to be oddly
relaxing...

Behind her, Amy looked at the short range scanners again, her attention on the Fleet cruisers transponder signal. "A cruiser isn't designed to run Air
Traffic Control."

"There's no orbital stations that I can see," Ben commented. "And if they don't have one planetside..."

"Yeah, we're walking right into trouble," Chris scowled.

***

Astonvale was a relatively large city, hundreds of gleaming steel towers surrounded by walkways, roads and aircar paths. As Duskwalker approached from the
east, it became clear that the city had seen better days. A number of the buildings had been bombed, a number of them having actually fallen, becoming
unnerving debris that looked to have never been cleared. There was little in the way of air traffic, aside from military air vehicles in a variety of shapes
and sizes.

And as Duskwalker followed the flight path they'd been assigned, it became clear they were heading for a rather well established military base on the
outskirts of the city. Tanks, aircraft and combat mecha could all be seen moving around the base, a number of them all paying attention to the freighter.

Fiona hadn't really noticed them. Her attention had been focused on the city itself, locking onto familar landmarks and comparing them to her memory.
Slowly, the horror rose as she found more and more missing or destroyed. "How could this happen?" she whispered, seeming to shrink in on herself.
"How could they..." she closed her eyes, forcing back the tears. Quietly, Chris moved over, placing a reassuring hand on the girls shoulder. She took
the opening and turned, burying herself in his chest and crying softly. Her Captain didn't say anything, simply holding her and providing a presense.

"Firing landing thrusters, deploying landing gear," Ben reported softly. The ship shuddered slightly, then settled, the minor turbulance they'd
all been feeling since entering the atmosphere vanishing. "And we're down. Powering down thrusters and engines." He glanced at the external
cameras. "We've got someone coming. Single guy in a Frontier Fleet uniform."

Nodding, Chris looked down at Fiona. "You going to be alright?" he asked gently.

Wiping at her tears, Fiona managed a weak nod. "Yeah, I think so, just..." she shrugged slightly, sniffling. Chris smiled weakly, giving her a slight
hug, before breaking away and heading out of the control room.

The other three people followed him, Sato darting up to Amys shoulder as they passed the kitchen, as he walked to the main hatch and triggered both doors.
There was a brief pause as they slid open and the ramp lowered, then the Frontier Fleet officer stepped up and stopped at the top of the ramp. "Permission
to come aboard?" he asked.

"Granted. Captain Christopher Wood," he said, holding out their documentation.

Giving the paperwork a quick look, the officer - a lieutenant, if Chris remembered his Sollie rank pins - nodded and handed them back. "What brings you to
New Wales?" he asked in a tone of friendly curiousity. For what felt like the hundredth time, Chris repeated Fionas story, and got a minor surprise as the
lieutenants face actually took on a sympthatic expression. "I'm sorry to hear that miss. Were you from Astonvale?"

"All my life," she admitted, voice low and sad.

Closing his eyes for a moment, the man nodded. "I hate to sound like an asshole, but... it's unlikely that you'll find much here. If your family
could have afforded to get offworld, they would have, or..." he sighed again, looking surprisingly human.

"What happened here?" Chris asked.

"There was a revolution," he replied in the tone of a man that was parroting the offical story, but had served long enough to know how the galaxy
worked. "The coup faction used atomics, blew the orbital station and lunar facility to dust. The local government lost most of their military in the first
strikes, things fell apart, and they appealed to Frontier Fleet for aid."

Standing next to Chris, Fiona tensed as she mentally translated. Agents from the Office of Frontier Security had staged a false coup, crippling the government,
while a nearby Frontier Fleet task force had 'heard' of the crisis and moved to assist. It was a common enough story, used hundreds of times over the
centuries by a nation that considered itself the only true human civilisation in the galaxy. Everyone knew it, but no one could prove it, not without making
themselves a target.

To her surprise, the man looked her in the eyes and nodded sadly. "I know," he admitted. "It was before my time, but..." he gave a helpless
shrug.

"Is OFS overseeing New Wales?" Chris asked in a soft, yet dangerous voice.

This time, the Fleet officer shook his head. "They accepted a bid from Crey Industries," he replied. When they all gave him a blank look, he sighed
and admitted, "They're a joint venture of GENOM and Manpower, not that anyone can prove the later."

Fiona didn't quite suppress a gasp. GENOM were a shining example of profit over ethics, but Manpower were even worse. The galaxies leader in genetically
engineered slave labor, outlawed in virtually all the galaxy except for places like the League where they'd gained considerable power through blackmail and
bribery.

Chris glanced at her, then back at the officer. "Is it safe to travel in the city?" he asked, keeping his voice level.

"With a Ragolian hunter with you? Probably," he admitted. "Just... be careful. Crey's in charge out there, and they're..." he
sighed, and then continued in a voice that failed to hide his shame, "They're using this place as a testing ground."

Before he could continue, Chris held up a hand. "You've said enough," he said. "No need to risk getting yourself in trouble. Thanks for the
warning, but we'll take it from here."

The man nodded, slightly relieved. "I'm sorry," he said to Fiona, before turning and leaving.

"He's sorry," Fiona whispered. "How nice for him."

***

At the edge of the base was located a small rental agency offering an assortment of vehicles in various stages of disrepair, and after only a few minutes of
haggling, they'd gotten their hands on a rather sad looking little car, and were driving off along one of the elevated highways that curved around the
massive towers.

Fiona sat in the passenger seat, looking out the window with the grief still clearly visible. "Some of these towers are over a thousand years old,"
she whispered. "They predated the Global Civil War. Tens of thousands of people lived in each one. How many would have died when the League...?"

"Millions," Chris said quietly from the drivers seat. "Look at this road, and the walkways." There was practically no traffic on the road,
only the occasional civilian car, in even worse condition then their rental, and regular appearances of military vehicles, these in much better condition and
bearing the bright blue C that served as Crey Industries logo.

On the surrounding walkways, people could be seen shuffling along, their clothes almost always ragged and worn. Their movements were timid, careful, as though
terrified of bringing down retribution.

"We're going to stand out," Ben murmured. "That could be a problem. These people are scared, and looking for someone to blame..."

"And that's not counting Crey," Amy added. "They must have done a hell of a job here to get the people so terrified."

"Let's just start hunting," Chris said. "We'll work out what to do next after that."

Fiona gave a sharp nod, pulling her attention away from the horrible view. "Car, Navigation. Emmert Tower." On the windshield, a small holograpic map
appeared, the cars nav system indicating an offramp about a kilometer ahead. Chris shifted into the side lane just before they turned around another tower, and
the giant building that Fiona had once called home came into view.

Compared to some of the city, Emmert Tower was in rather good condition. Over two and a half kilometers high, it didn't appear to be the victim of any
attacks, with no real structural damage to be seen. The only visible damage was the countless shattered windows, massive graffiti, and a giant holoscreen
promoting Crey Industries and all its hard work to restore New Wales.

Looking up at it, Fiona couldn't decide if she'd prefer it bombed and gone, as opposed to standing but defiled. Sighing, she pulled her eyes away and
said, "Take the upward ramp to floor two hundred and eighty nine. There should be a parking garage up there that's not too far a walk from my... my
home."

Chris nodded as they drove onto the ramp in question and into a tunnel made from a thick, transparent plastic. "What's with the cover?" Amy
wondered.

"We're going two kilometers up," Fiona replied. "Ever tried driving in winds that bad?" Amy considered that, then winced. Chris
chuckled slightly, then they all fell silent as they circled Emmert Tower, looking over the damage. Chris had to slow occasionally and manuver around broken
cars, but they reached the garage in question soon enough, and Chris drove in and came to a halt.

The parking garage was buried in the side of the Arcology, with a series of automated lifts moving the cars down into storage bays. Chris looked at the clearly
unmaintained lifts for a moment, then spoke. "I'm not trusting the car to that."

Fiona nodded as she pulled off her seatbelt and climbed out. "You'd need a passcard anyway," she said, going to the back of the car and opening
the trunk. "Hopefully we can leave it here."

"The rental agency probably just stole the thing off the side of the road anyway," Ben said dryly, going to grab the pack Fiona had brought with
them. "You think we'll need these?"

"Hopefully not," she said with a weak shrug. "The Towers life support should still be good, but anywhere it's broken down..." she made
a face, and Ben nodded.

***

The hallways and open areas inside Emmert Tower were rather wide open, designed to allow space in what was essentially a sealed tin can, but it was showing the
scars of the League occupation. Almost all of the countless lights in the ceilings were broken or burnt out, holographic 'windows' to outside or
gardens had mostly failed, with only those still online converted to provide Crey banners and reminders of their security and martial law, 'for the public
safety'.

And there were virtually no people. Occasionally, someone walked along, keeping their head down and avoiding eye contact, or they heard voices behind closed
doors in this residential area, but to Fiona, that was nearly more horrifying then the darkness. The residential halls should have had thousands of people,
service droids, there were public parks lying dead and abandoned...

"This way," she said, voice wavering despite her efforts. Behind her, Chris and Ben shared a concerned look as she led them down another hallway.
"The lifts might be out of order, but there's some stairs ahead..."

"We're being followed," Amy said softly, drawing the attention of her crewmates.

"How long?" Chris asked, his voice just as quiet.

"Four, five minutes. I wanted to be sure before saying anything. Maybe six of them."

"Keep going, see what they do?" Ben asked.

"No, they might have buddies getting ahead of us. Let's kick over the can now," Chris replied, before turning to face the way they'd come.
"All right, come on out and let's do this like men!" he called out, hand resting on the grip of the pistol on his belt.

There was a moment of silence, and then six men emerged from around the corner, all of them ready for a fight, two of them carrying makeshift weapons, and
their leader had a hand inside the ratty-looking jacket he wore. "You're off-worlders," he grunted.

"That we are," Chris replied. "Is that a problem?"

"Only two kinda off-worlders come here now," the man said, glaring. "Crey and scavengers."

Chris frowned. "Scavengers?" he asked.

"Lots of stuff here to steal," the local growled, taking a step forward. "You come here, take what you want and leave. Scavengers."

"We're not scavengers," Chris said calmly. "And we're sure as hell not the kind of scum that works for Crey."

The men at the other end of the hallway tensed, and their leader nearly pulled his weapon out. "Then what the frack are you here for?" he growled.

"They're here for me," Fiona said, her accent catching their attention. "I grew up here. I'm looking for my family." She stepped up
next to Chris and continued. "I was on a spaceliner that was attacked, and the stasis pod I was in was lost. These people found me. Saved me."

Frowning, he looked her over. "How long were you there for?" he wondered, his voice both curious and confrontational.

"Forty-four years," Fiona admitted. "I don't know if there's anyone left, but I have to know," she said softly.

"Where'd you live?"

"Block four twenty-three," she replied.

Several of the men shifted uncomfortably. "That's Troll territory," one of them mumbled.

"Troll?" Chris asked.

The leader pulled his hand out of his jacket, leaving the gun inside. "Listen kid, if you're tellin' the truth, whatever home you had, it's
gone, long gone," he said, shaking his head. "You go into Trolltown, they'll rip you apart and eat your flesh. They ain't human in there no
more."

"Who are these Trolls?" Ben asked, eyes narrowing.

"Few years back, this drug shows up. Weird thing, that Dyne. Makes you stronger, tougher, and dumber. Changes a man," he said, shaking his head at
the memory. "By the end, they're animals. They can barely talk, damn near bulletproof... they're wild, and they're usually hungry. Too stupid
to figure out how to open packaged food, so they go for what they can hunt down." The man sighed. "If you're telling the truth kid, go back to
your ship, get the hell out of here while you still can. Nothing left for you here." He turned and left, the others following.

Watching them leave, Chris took his hand off the pistol, then looked at the others. "Comforting thought," he said. "Do we keep going?"

"I... even if he's right, I need to try," Fiona said quietly. "I know it might be dangerous, but..."

"But you need to try," Ben said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Hell, we've taken on dangerous before."

"Yeah, and I spent a month recovering," Chris noted, although there was a smile on his face as he said it.

"We've got the firepower," Amy noted as Sato chirped agreement. "Let's make the attempt at least." Fiona smiled weakly at them,
then turned and continued on.

***

The general disrepair of the building seemed to change as they approached what the local man had called 'Trolltown'. All the holodisplays were
destroyed, the lights had been smashed, forcing the team to resort to their flashlights and glow-sticks. Remembering the warning they'd gotten, all of them
had their weapons out.

And there was a noise. At first, it sounded like simple yelling and arguing, echoing through the deserted halls, but over time it began to change. Distinct
words began to vanish, replaced by grunts, snarls and roars that seemed like they were coming from the muzzles of wild animals. This was backed up by the
sounds of objects being broken and the occasional gunshot.

"What's that smell?" Ben frowned. Sato chirped curiously, turning his headlights down towards the ground. "...Ah," the man said, frown
deepening at the sight of dried feces.

"In the middle of the hall?" Fiona wondered, then waved her flashlight on ahead, finding similar deposits, some of them much newer. "Good
lord..."

"Too stupid to use packaged food," Chris said. "And apparantly, too stupid to use a toilet."

"Wonderful," Ben replied. "I have to say, our recent explorations in tunnels of mystery are not going well. First, into the belly of some
underground monster, and now the toilet that society forgot."

"Oh, there's a wonderful collision of mental images," Fiona said, walking forward. Carefully.

"Sorry about that," he apologised, following her.

"Not too much further," Fiona said, keeping her voice low. "Another two hallways-" she stopped at the sound of voices, much closer then the
others. Two men arguing about something, their words slurred and simplistic. There was the sound of flesh striking flesh, then one of them stumbled out of a
hallway ahead, snarling back the way he'd come, only to freeze as the flashlights revealed him to Duskwalkers crew.

It was a man, nearly six and a half feet tall, but twisted in strange ways. Oversized muscles wre visible over every part of his body not hidden by the
tattered shirt and pants he was wearing. His arms were abnormally long, reaching down past his knees. His head was lacking any hair at all and his face was
twisted, sharpened teeth sticking out past the shredded lips. And for a moment, Fiona thought it was a trick of the lights on him, but his skin was a sickly
green color, a yellow pus oozing from the dozens of cuts all over his body.

"Our place!" he snarled, baring his fangs. "Our place! Kill you, eat you!" he roared, charging forward. Chris and Ben opened fire, bullets
ripping at the creature, but it barely slowed as the shots seemed to have a hard time penetrating. A moment later, Amy charged past them, Demo Comet in her
hands. Gleaming crystals emerged from the ends of the staff, and she swung it around, slamming it into the side of the trolls face. That had more of an effect,
stopping the beasts charge and smashing it into a wall. Yellow and red liquids dripped from its face and the Demo Comet as it tried to get to its feet. Amy
raised the staff above her head, held it there for a moment as Photon energies gathered around the crystals, then brought it down on his skull.

With a crack of arcane energies and the thump of dead flesh hitting the floor, the Troll ceased to become a problem.

At the end of the hallway, the other Troll appeared, howling in anticipation at the chance of a fight. Fiona raised her pistol and let the energy gather for a
moment, before firing a charged shot. The pulse hit him in the chest, knocking him back several feet and drawing a roar of pain. As the smoke cleared, they
could see exposed organs where the flesh had been burned away, all of them twisted and altered in ways that didn't look healthy. Chris, Fiona and Ben
opened fire, the mens conventional weapons apparantly having a better effect now they could actually get past the Trolls thick skin. With a pained howl, the
Troll fell backwards and didn't get up.

Carefully, Chris reached over and place a hand on the top of Fionas pistol, lowering it towards the ground. "You okay?" he asked gently.

"I just..." she paused, taking a breath. "I just killed... was that really a man anymore?" she wondered, her voice unsteady.

"I wish I knew," he replied. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Two more halls," she repeated. "We came this far." Chris nodded, patting her on the arm as Ben took Amys backup pistol, seeing how
conventional weapons seemed to be rather useless. The Ragolian gave Fiona a concerned look before they continued on.

***
***

Fionas old apartment was located on a balcony overlooking what had once been a rather nice public park. Now though, the holographic sky was gone, the lights
were broken, and the only light in the area came from fires burning in the park, the Trolls apparently still possessing some understanding of fire.

The crew of the Duskwalker had turned their flashlights off before reaching the park entrance, a precaution that may well have saved their lives. In the weak
light provided by the flames, they could see Trolls moving around, growling at each other, a number of them outright fighting, tearing at each other like
animals. And there was something else lurking in the background, staying out of the light as much as possible. They caught glimpses of a massive, hunched over
figure, moving around on all fours, then decided they really didn't want to know any more.

Fiona pointed at a closed door about twenty meters to their left. "That one," she said softly.

"Amy," Chris whispered. "Give these things a distraction." Amy nodded and made a brief gesture. Across on the other side of the park, a
battered pair of trashcans suddenly threw themselves down a corridor with a loud crash. The Trolls roared, running off after possible prey.

The group took their opening, darting across the balcony towards the door. Chris knelt down next to the control panel, scowling at the sight of the smashed in
casing. Pulling it off, he quickly messed with some of the wiring, then smiled as the door slid open, remarkably quietly given how long it must have been since
it was used. Quickly, they stepped inside and Chris tapped the door close button, then the light switch.

The sight that greeted them was rather surprising, given the condition of 'Trolltown'. Aside from a thick layer of dust, it seemed that the apartment
was almost untouched by the chaos. "The Trolls can't work doors," Fiona said quietly as she stepped forward, moving from the entrance hallway
into the living room.

"You press the button marked open," Ben muttered.

"Or you get bored and smash the control panel because you want to break it," Chris said, turning to the security monitor near the door. "Some of
them can still talk, but..." he shrugged and turned the screen on, noting with some surprise that the tiny hidden camera outside still worked. "Huh.
They built this place to last."

Fiona smiled faintly. "That they did," she said softly, looking around. "I think whoever lived here left in a hurry," she added. Amy walked
up to an empty shelf, then knelt down and picked up a photo frame from where it had fallen to the carpet.

"They took as much as they could of what mattered," she noted, watching the images scroll through. "Any of these look familiar?" she asked,
handing it to Fiona. The girl stood there for a few moments, then sighed, shaking her head. "Could they have been born after, well, after?" she
wondered.

"It's possible," Fiona admitted. "Sarah was only twelve when I left... plenty of time to have a family, I suppose. But I'd like to think
I'd recognize her." She sighed, running a hand through her purple hair. "But no one there looks like what I'd expect. That, or I'm
guessing completely wrong." She placed the frame back on the shelf, looking at it with a somewhat miserable expression, then walked over to a terminal
built into the living room wall. "Still, let's see what we've got," she said, turning it on.

After a moment, the desktop appeared and Fiona started browsing the local hard drive. "Yep, there's still stuff here," she said, biting her lip.
"Let there be something useful, please..."

"The other rooms are the same," Ben reported. "Cleaned out in a hurry. Looks like it was a married couple, but no kids bedroom."

"There's kids here," Amy said, nodding at the photo frame as Sato checked under the couch. "Mid to late teens. Maybe they'd moved out by
the time their parents left?"

"Whoever the parents were," Chris replied, watching the security monitor, and the images of the Trolls returning to the park below.

"Power bill receipts," Fiona called out. "Addressed to a Toren Bale." She frowned. "The last one is dated to just before OFS came
in."

"They've been gone for twelve years?" Ben said. "Then why the hell is the power still on? I would've thought it would've been cut
ages ago."

"You'd think so," Fiona agreed. "I mean, the Landlord was always strict about..." her voice trailed off for a moment. "Landlord!
I'm an idiot," she said, shaking her head.

"Landlord?" Amy asked.

"The tower AI," Fiona replied. "Handles all the things like life support, supplies, power... The household terminals can connect to him.
He's a dumb AI, no real sentience, but still, maybe he can help." A moment later, she frowned at the error message that appeared on the monitor.
"Or not."

Leaning over her shoulder, Ben read the message. "Server is not responding or is offline," he repeated. "Problem with the connection?"

The young woman sighed, leaning back against her chair. "No, Crey or OFS yanked him. The Tower's running on automatic backups." She closed her
eyes for a moment. "I thought this was damage from the occupation," she said, waving a hand vaguely to indicate the tower. "But it's
actually been shut down. The automatics keep the air flowing and the lights on, but it's meant to be empty."

"Has that happened before?" Ben asked softly.

"After the Global Civil War," she replied, remembering history lessons at a school that would no longer exist. "The population had dropped so
low that the decision was made by the government to mothball some of the Towers, to save resources. I think... I think the same happened here." Taking a
deep breath, she sighed again. "I feel like I need to scream," she whispered. Sato, trying to help, flew into her lap and made an odd chirping noise
that was probably meant to be a reassuring purr.

"I hate to seem like an utter bastard," Chris replied, "but I'd recommend against it. The Trolls are back outside, and if they heard us,
we'd be fighting our way out."

Taking another breath, Fiona nodded. "Right. Survive now, scream at the unfairness of the universe later," she said, scritching Sato behind the ear.

Holding back a faint smile as Sato made a happy chirp, Amy considered something, then spoke. "And this isn't the end of the trail." As Fiona
looked up at her, she continued. "This Toren Bale. Whoever he was, he moved out before Landlord was removed. Possibly relocated to another tower?"

Fiona looked at her, then nodded slightly. "Even if he isn't related to my family, he might have information on them," she said in understanding.
"It's a chance, if nothing else."

By the door, Chris looked away from the monitor. "Then, we're done here?" When Fiona nodded, he added. "Okay then, hit the lights, and lets
wait for a chance to..." His voice trailed off as his eyes darted back to the monitor. "The heck was that?" The rest of the crew moved towards
him to see what caught his attention. A moment later, it became obvious, as several bright blue beams of energy appeared in the park outside.

"Phasers," Amy said quietly. "Set to stun, but still..." As they watched, there were several flashes of more conventional gunfire, the
sound barely audible through the walls. In the weak light of the fires in the park, they could see Trolls running around, occasionally charging towards the
gunfire and being cut down.

At first, none of them could really see any of the mystery attackers, until two men in dark blue combat suits and black armored vests moved into view of the
security monitor, using the balcony as a good firing position. On the back of their vests, the Crey Industries logo stood out.

"That's the who," Ben murmured. "But why?" Both Crey soldiers outside fired into the park, then scrambled back as one of the Trolls,
roaring loud enough to be heard through the walls, easily leapt up several meters and caught the guard railing. Bleeding from a dozen minor bullet wounds, the
creature climbed onto the balcony and charged out of view of the camera, a much more human scream of pain detailing the Trolls actions.

Fiona flinched at the scream, but kept watching the battle in the park. Crey Security personnel advanced into the park, their rifles tearing at the Trolls but
having difficulty killing the mutated creatures. But as several of the blue-suited men fell, wounded or killed by Troll teeth and claws, a second group moved
to back them up. Unlike the regular personnel, who looked like conventional infantry, these men and women were wearing immaculate black suits and white dress
shirts, looking every part like they were executives or bureaucrats. Except for the dark, dangerous looking phaser rifles they were carrying.

One of the 'businessmen' turned to the rest of his team and said something, and when they opened fire again, the beams were a deadly red, cutting
through the dense flesh with much greater ease then the more conventional weapons. Shocked, the Trolls backed away, many of them snarling challenges at their
opponents. A moment later, the 'businessmen' fired a second salvo, quickly slaughtering the remaining mutants.

Fiona and Chris both looked away, the former not quite holding in a horrified gasp, the later looking like he wanted to throw up from the sight of the Trolls
being... dissected by the phaser beams. A moment later, both of them looked back at the screen as a shockingly loud, utterly animal roar echoed across the park
and through the walls.

From the direction Amy had telekinetically thrown the trashcans earlier, the source of the roar emerged, charging the Crey forces in an odd, shambling run. As
it knocked over barrels and ran through fires, Duskwalkers crew got a good look at a giant, misshapen mass of muscle and bone. Charging on all fours, it was
still over eight feet tall, and looked more like some sort of broken gorilla then a human. Skin had failed to grow fast enough to keep up with swollen muscles
and jagged bone spurs, and one of its 'hands' was more of a collection of claws that had grown out from the original fingers.

Snarling at the tiny creatures that dared to wander in its territory, the Troll brought that fist down on one of the businessmen that didn't get out of the
way fast enough, shattering his skull and tearing open his chest. As the other Crey personnel fell back, the Troll raised its fist into the air, lifting up its
kill with with it.

The blue-suited soldiers opened fire with their conventional firearms, drawing the Trolls attention for a moment, giving the businessmen time to regroup and
open fire again. Curiously, they'd set their phaser rifles back to stun again, hosing the creature down with the intense blue beams.

For a moment, it didn't seem to have any effect on the monster, besides getting its attention again. But after a few steps, it stumbled, then paused, even
as the beams continued to wash over its deformed body. Then, growling weakly, it fell forward and slammed face first into the dirt, its nervous system
scrambled.

Once they were certain there were no more Trolls coming, Crey got to work. As some of them tended to their injured and recovered their dead, several of the
businessmen guided in a large hover platform and parked it near the 'Supertroll'. Moving quickly, they rolled the creature onto the vehicle and tied it
in place. Then, once they were relatively certain it would stay in place, they left the park and vanished into the darkness.

Inside the apartment, there was a long moment of silence. Eventually, Chris broke it with a simple question. "What the hell was that?"

"Crey capturing a Troll," Amy replied.

"A creature made by some crazy, mutagenic drug," Fiona continued. "On a planet run by a megacorp which is an offshoot of Manpower," she
realized in a tone of growing horror. "The galaxies biggest genetic slavers."

"Test subjects," Ben finished in a weak, sickened tone. "They're using these people as test subjects."

Chris closed his eyes for a moment, fighting off a sudden trembling in his hands. "Let's, let's just get out of here," he managed after a
moment.

***
Somehow, I suspect that someone is going to pay for this.
From Phantasy Star to Cyberpunk, with an Harrington overlay for galactic politicing... Gee, you didnt give yourself many adventure hooks THERE, did ya? *snerk*
Hear that thunder rolling till it seems to split the sky?
That's every ship in Grayson's Navy taking up the cry-

NO QUARTER!!!
-- "No Quarter", by Echo's Children
***

By the time they reached the car, the sun was starting to set outside the tower, leaving the sky a blood red color as it leaked through between the massive
towers. Chris couldn't help but find it appropriate, but he certainly didn't mention it. Not now, when none of them really wanted to talk about what
they'd seen, what was going on here in Fionas home turned slave world. Least of all Fiona, who had collapsed in on herself, her hair hiding her face and,
they all knew, the tears running down it. All three of them wanted to take the girl and hold her, promise her it would be all right. But right now, none of
them could bring themselves to lie to her.

They'd driven down the Towers exterior roads and were back on the highway again before Fiona spoke, her first words since they'd fled Trolltown before
any more monsters found them. "I guess-" she coughed, clearing her throat, then continued. "I guess that's the end of it." Chris gave
her an odd look in the rear-view mirror. "If we keep looking, that means dealing with Crey. Up close. I appreciate what you guys are doing for me, I
really do, but... they're harvesting monsters here, who knows what for! They probably made the drugs that made the Trolls in the first place, released it
into the city and used it as a giant damn lab!"

Chris nodded. "Almost certainly," he agreed. "Frontier Security wouldn't give a damn about keeping an eye on them, meaning they have
absolute free reign here."

"And they're a Mesa offshoot," Ben noted. "No oversight in their own backyard, twitchy security, and they always have a need for people to
experiment on."

"And I wouldn't be surprised if Crey would like to get their hands on a Newman like me," Amy added. "Manpower's been trying to sniff
around Ragols gene-engineering work for decades. Their bastard offspring wouldn't be any different."

Fiona nodded. "Exactly. I appreciate everything you guys have done for me... heck, if it wasn't for you guys, I might never have been found," she
added with a slight shudder. "But I can't ask you to take this kind of risk to find my family."

Frowning, Chris glanced over at Ben, seeing a similar expression on his friends face, then looked at Amys expression in the mirror. "You're
right," he said. "You can't ask. So, I figure you and Amy should talk to the local OFS representatives tomorrow morning, see what they'll
tell us about the Landlord. That thing would have all the records from before it was unplugged. If nothing else, it'll be another step closer. Ben and I
will find the local Crey offices, try and talk our way inside. The security would be pretty insane given how they've been annoying the locals, but
hopefully they'll be willing to have one of their paper-pushers at least listen to us."

Scowling, Ben glanced out the window. "We'll have to be polite. Respectful... And hold back on doing what I'd really like to do to Crey."

"Hey, if I can hold in my homicidal urges, so can you," Chris replied. "Just imagine it."

"So, be polite, be efficient, and plan to kill every single person we meet?" Ben asked, glancing over at him.

"Does wonders for my stress levels," he grinned. Fionas eyes had gone almost comically wide, as she glanced back and forth between the other three.

"Do we have to be polite to OFS?" asked the Ragolian in the back seat. "Or can I be honest?" On her lap, Sato chirped his encouragement (Of
good manners or honesty, no one knew.)

With a snort, Ben looked over his shoulder at her. "Do you really think it's a good idea to tell them they're a pack of drunken, incompetent,
bribe taking assmonkeys?"

Making a thoughtful hmm, Amy leaned back, pretending to consider the question seriously. "Well, it's probably not," she admitted at last.
"But it would be quite satisfying." Sato chirped, nodding his head. "Oh hush. You just want to eat their guns." Sato looked up at her and
made a short, electronic 'blat!' noise. "Language."

Humor seemed to pull Fiona out of her shocked state. "Are you nuts?!" she demanded. "I just told you-"

"You couldn't ask," Chris replied.

"And you didn't," Amy added. "We just decided to take the risk anyway."

Ben nodded. "It's a documented side effect of being someone's friend. You tend to help them in situations where your danger sense tells you to run
away, screaming and crying." He twisted in his seat and smiled at her. "So, no need to ask, or fret. We're here, we're doing this."

Fiona looked at him for a long moment, then sighed and leaned back into her own seat, closing her eyes. "... Thanks guys," she said quietly, her
voice catching in her throat. "Thank you."

***

Studying a map of the convoluted, confusing hallways, office blocks and laboratories that made up the administration tower Crey had built for themselves in the
center of the city, Chris frowned. "Is it too late to tell Fi we can't help her on this?" he wondered, tapping the the little dot labeled
'You are here'.

Next to him, Ben snorted. "We'll take on armies, aliens and giant robots, but flee in terror when it comes to bureaucracy." His captain smirked,
and Ben checked the index screen next to the map. "We need to take the elevators to floor one-seventy-eight, then go to the northern section..." he
frowned, looking at Chris. "Is it me, or are you getting flashbacks to the Bureau of Deep Space Vehicles?" he asked.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Chris let out an amused groan. "Oh God, don't remind me. 'Oh no sir, you need to speak with Spaceworthy Inspections
first.' Now that was a painful week." Briefly regretting the many stops he'd been making at water fountains all morning, he gave the map another
quick check, then nodded in relative satisfaction. "Okay, I think I know where we're going."

"Captain Wood?" Glancing at each other, the two men turned to see a number of Crey security officers standing there, a man in a sharply dressed
business suit at the front of the group. "You are Captain Christopher Wook of the independent ship Duskwalker?" the man in question asked. Chris
nodded carefully, keeping his hands away from his body. The almost eager expressions of several of the guards, along with the way they were barely keeping
their weapons aimed at the ground, were more them enough to convince him not to make trouble. "Mister Wentworth would like to speak with you."

Chris smiled faintly as he shrugged. "Well then, lead the way," he said. "I'd go by myself, but I'm afraid that this tower's a bit
of a pain to find my way around." He waited as the guards checked him, then let his smile widen slightly at their surprised expression. "Left my gun
with our friends," he explained.

"Best not to be carrying firepower in a place like this," Ben agreed. "All too likely to be taken the wrong way." He suppressed a smirk as
the scowl on the face of the man in the business suit clearly indicated he'd been hoping for a Ragolian weapon of some sort. Silently, they were led into
an elevator that proceeded to climb up through the tower for nearly two minutes, the doors opening into a hallway that was much more extravagant then the lower
floors the two men had spent hours wandering through. Thick, lush carpet, paintings and holograms on the walls, carefully maintained plants... this floor was
reserved for the important officials.

Ben and Chris glanced at each other, now rather concerned, as they were led down the hall and through a pair of large, solid doors made of a polished timber
that neither man recognized. This left them in a large office that actually looked rather friendly and tidy, and a massive 'window' that showed the
skyline of a city that certainly wasn't Astonvale. Crystal towers, carefully controlled lanes of aircars weaving between them, and a clear blue sky with
two suns visible overhead. "Please wait here," said the man in the suit, before the entire group turned and left.

In the moment of silence that followed, the pair looked at each other, Chris raising a single eyebrow, and Ben merely shrugging. Discussion complete for the
moment, they turned to look around the room, Chris moving over to the 'window' and discovering that it wasn't actually a flat image on a screen,
but a detailed hologram that gave him an incredible view of the streets far, far below. In fact, going by a rough estimate, the point of origin of this view
was actually much higher then this actual tower was. "Impressive," he murmured.

"Isn't it?" agreed a new voice as the doors swung open to admit another man in a business suit. While the first Crey official had been wearing a
properly cleaned and pressed suit, this mans suit made the first one look like moldy rags. Perfectly tailored, custom made from real fibres, probably from one
of the Leagues Core Worlds, if Creys fashion tastes followed the standards of most megacorps in this region of space, so well maintained by experts that not
even a single strand was loose. The man wearing the suit was just as bad, with short, professionally styled brown hair, manicured hands, even his eyebrows were
carefully trimmed. "It's a live feed from the corporate headquarters on Sillurst." He smiled, showing off perfectly maintained teeth.
"I'd love to claim it was my idea, but it's standard on the offices of all planetary directors. The Countess likes to remind us of our ties to the
rest of the company." He stepped towards them and held out a hand. "Alexander Wentworth, Planetary Director of Crey New Wales."

Returning the handshake, Chris replied, "Christopher Wood, captain of the Duskwalker. My pilot, Ben Cook." Ben nodded slightly as he shook the
executives hand. "What exactly can we do for you Mister Wentworth?" Chris asked, deciding to skip the dancing and weaving of delicate conversation,
and just get to the question of why they'd been brought to the office of what was probably the most powerful person on New Wales.

"Alexander is fine, and to be honest, very little," Alexander said with a faint smile. "Oh, I may have some cargo for you, if you're
interested, but for the most part, this meeting is more to ensure that there are no misunderstandings between your ship and Crey Industries, particularly in
the matter of Miss Lockley." Neither of them were quite able to keep the flicker of concern from their expressions at the mention of Fiona, and the
official nodded. "The League embassy on Ragol forwarded the information on her existence to the relevant authorities, and I must admit, it leaves us with
a minor issue. You see, in the interests of global security, we have currently placed a halt on New Wales citizens travelling offworld. Too much work is needed
to be done here, so to speak... and, well, you went to Emmert Tower yesterday, I've been told. As such, allowing her to leave her homeworld may not be
possible."

***
MD, you sneaky sonofagun. I didn't know you'd posted this here. Big Grin

I think you're already aware, but I am... um... eagerly awaiting more.

Yes. Eagerly.

("Eagerly" sounds better than "droolingly", right?)

--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
***

Unlike Emmert Tower, Millway Tower, which served as the city spaceport, and upon which the Office of Frontier Security had built their local base, was in
rather good condition. When the drastically reduced population after the occupation had led to many of the Towers being decommissioned and abandoned, Crey had
focused their rebuilding efforts on what areas were still officially occupied. With Millway serving as both the base for OFS and any Crey shipments on and off
the planet, it had gotten a good deal of attention.

The end result was somewhat familiar to Fiona as she, Amy and Sato stepped out of an elevator onto a walkway over a rather busy street, deep inside the tower.
Vehicles moved down the road, with large numbers of people walking along the sidewalk. Unlike the wretches they'd seen in Emmert Tower, these people looked
well-fed and clean, their clothes in the various conditions one would expect to find in everyday life. As she looked down at a family walking along the
footpath, Fiona found herself wondering why the mood seemed so different. In Emmert Tower, and the walkways through the city, the people were broken,
terrified. Here, the people seemed nervous, but not of the men in Crey Security uniforms that were patrolling the streets.

"Secure zone," Amy said quietly, getting Fiona's attention. "Crey's actually in charge here," she elaborated. "They've
repaired the tower, they enforce the peace... possibly even actual peace, not just military law." She shook her head slightly. "I suppose that might
be a good thing. Then again, given the ethics of some corporations..."

Shrugging, Fiona leaned against the railing. "I guess they're safe," she mused. "Crey came in after the League took over. They fixed things
up, protect them... They probably run everything, but the people are safe." Watching an automated taxi drive past, she shrugged again. "I guess
that's something." She rested there for a moment, watching the people below, then straightened up. "So. Lunch?"

"I could eat," Amy admitted, heading for some nearby stairs. "I just wish we had something to show for the morning's work," she added,
thinking back to the OFS pencil-pushers they'd spent several hours dealing with.

Stretching, Fiona followed her. "Well, technically, we did make some progress," she noted. "Thanks to that last last officer-"

"-And his interest in your chest," Amy noted.

"-we now actually have confirmation that Crey has the Tower AIs," Fiona finished without pausing. "So, now we need to wait and see how the guys
do."

The Ragolian nodded. "Should we go help them?"

Fiona shook her head. "Nah. Better the two of us stay the hell away from Crey's offices, just in case temptation comes calling." There was a tone
of slightly bitter amusement in her voice as she said that. Amy nodded in sad agreement as they reached the ground level. "What'd you mean
yesterday?" she asked, expression shifting from resignation to curiosity. "About Crey probably liking the idea of getting a Newman," she added
as Amy looked over. "I mean, I know you're... what's the term?"

"Vat-grown, gene-engineered, something like that," came the response. Making sure Sato wasn't going to fly off exploring, she continued. "If
Crey really was created by companies like Manpower, then their genetic engineering capabilities are... crude," she said, looking for the right word.
"For all their talk about 'mastering the Helix' and 'improving the design of humanity,' they're just thugs with mutations and poisons.
Powerful and dangerous, but no real genius behind it." With a bitter laugh, she added, "That was why the companies founders got kicked off Beowolf
and ran off to colonize their own little corp world outside legal borders in the first place."

Fiona frowned slightly as they walked along, idly noting the odd looks and second glances they were getting from people on the street. Occasionally, Sato would
slow, turn, and regard them with wide optics before darting to catch up. "And your, um, creators weren't as bad?"

Her ears twitched as she laughed. "Oh, nowhere near. They make Manpower look like children with sticks." Smirking, she said in a quieter voice,
"For instance, Manpower's never been able to work out how to make meta-humans. Telekinetics, telepaths... Still far beyond them."

Understanding flickered across the younger woman's face. "Making you one a very inviting prize to them," Fiona said, before her eyes widened
slightly. "And you're just walking the streets here?" she asked, shock in her voice. "Why didn't you mention this sooner?"

"Because it's been tried before, and it always ended very badly for the people that tried," the Hunter replied with an evil smile.
"Correcting those mistakes is another of the Guilds standing contract. Manpower was taught that lesson about a decade ago, and they've gotten a few
reminders since then. Crey... oh yeah, they'll have people wanting to grab me, and larger people that are more likely to be in the line of fire sitting on
them." Stopping at a street crossing, she shrugged and admitted, "Okay, they may try something. It is entirely possible that they are that stupid.
They might try and grab me. But, I'm already here, they certainly know I'm her, so it's not worth worrying about too much. That's why I have
guns." There was an annoyed chirp from her Mag. "And Sato."

Smiling slightly, Fiona nodded. "Of course. He's vital to our defense."

"Absolutely. We couldn't get by without him." Sato's optics brightened up and he gave a happy chirp, before pausing and glancing at them,
giving off a lower chirp that did a surprisingly good job of conveying his belief he was being messed with. Both women laughed as they crossed the street, the
tiny droid following, chirping rapidly at them.

***

Chris suppressed a scowl as he looked at the Crey executive. "You'd prevent Fiona from leaving New Wales." he said slowly, using the moment to
properly reign in his temper. "I have to wonder why. Global security sounds like a rather... unconvincing justification," he pointed out as Wentworth
stepped around his desk and sat down in the large chair behind it. "How could one young woman that's spent forty years in a cryo-pod pose a threat to
this planet or your company?"

"Here, those both mean the same thing," the man pointed out. "And it's not Miss Lockley directly. Due to the events that led to the collapse
of the previous administration and the League declaring this system as a protectorate, New Wales suffered a mass exodus. The tight controls on passports and
space approvals were established in response to strained relations with neighboring systems. They tend to get upset when a few hundred thousand people show up
in a crudely converted super freighter."

Duskwalkers captain raised an eyebrow. "A few incidents?" he asked.

Shrugging, Alex smiled faintly. "Before my time, but a few. It's improved somewhat, but Miss Lockley would need to follow proper procedure to gain
approval to leave again. And then there's Emmert Tower," he added, smile fading to be replaced by a faint scowl.

"The Trolls," Ben scowled. "Charming things."

"Disgusting things, I think you mean," the executive replied. "They've begun appearing in multiple towers, ever since Dyne became the drug
of choice in the poorer sections of the populations. Given the end result of the drug abuse, Crey Industries would prefer that such knowledge remain here,
where it can not embarrass the company."

Growling, Ben took several steps towards the desk, anger flickering across his face. "You think I give a damn about embarrassing your-" he shut up as
Chris shot a glare at him. His friend held the expression for a moment, then turned back to Wentworth.

"That's an interesting story," he said. "Even has the benefit of being mostly true, I suspect. But it's not the whole story, is it
Mister Wentworth?" That comment got a curious expression from the businessman, so Chris continued. "If it was simply a matter of a New Wales citizen
being denied the right to travel off-world, the largest response would have been a company official, backed up by a security squad if you felt we needed our
positions made clear. If we objected, she'd have been taken into 'protective custody', and we'd be kicked off the planet, probably with a
deadline to get the hell out of the solar system as well. And we'd have no choice," he admitted with an annoyed shrug. "We're more then a
little outgunned, after all. Instead, you let us wander around the city freely, to the point of finding something in Emmert Tower that you'd prefer we not
find, and it still takes us coming to Crey Tower before we get any reaction. And being brought to meet you, the most powerful man on the planet? That seems a
little excessive."

Leaning back in his chair for a long moment, Alexander Wentworth studied Chris, before his smile returned. "Very observant Captain."

"I'd say it's kinda obvious," Chris said with a faint shrug. "You're not exactly playing it subtle here." Carefully, he stepped
towards the desk. "What is it about Fiona that makes this situation so different? What requires your personal attention here?"

"Do you know what happened to the Sea of Stars?" he asked in reply. "The details, not just 'attacked by pirates'."

"Public records didn't have much in the way of details," Ben responded, his temper under control again, curiosity taking control. "Just that
the ship was lost with no survivors. Well, until Fiona," he added.

Alex frowned slightly. "When the Office of Frontier Security told us of her situation, we investigated. It turns out that anti-piracy raids carried out by
the Perian Republic confirmed how the ship was destroyed. Her slip-point manifold was sabotaged and the ship was forced back into real space at a planned
location. Rescue efforts literally had no idea where to begin looking. After all this time, the odds of anyone finding her... Well, I've had some very
smart people tell me it's nearly impossible."

"So, she got lucky," Ben replied.

"That's my conclusion as well. However, there are others that don't agree with us. The package she received on Ragol, the money and a rather
interesting sword, were from one such group. You've been wondering about that?"

Snorting, the pilot crossed his arms over his chest. "Someone sends us a large chunk of cash? Only natural to wonder and worry," he muttered.
"But we don't have the ability to find out who sent it."

The frown on Alex's face shifted to a faint smile. "We do," he replied, before the smile faded again. "I'll spare you the minor details
for now, but the group that have taken an interest in both you and your crew member are not entirely rational men. They are men of religion."

"Hey," Ben scowled.

"Not men of faith," Alex said quickly. "Fanatics. Those that see prophecy where we would see good fortune and opportunity. These men are the
sort to use violence and murder to get what they want. And for whatever reason, they believe that Miss Lockley is part of their faith. That her being found is
part of something larger... and it's related to whatever you found under the surface of Ragol." He smiled slightly as both men didn't quite manage
to suppress their reaction. "I wonder what you found," he said quietly. "Miss Lockley only really came to their attention after you returned
from the planet to Pioneer Two. Whatever is down there, whatever destroyed Pioneer One and transformed it into a hell world, they're interested in it.
Obsessed even," he finished, eyes narrowing as he studied their reactions. Unease, shock, and slight understanding, and annoyance at the fact that this
was coming up in a discussion with a Crey executive.

Getting his bearings, Chris frowned slightly. "You realize of course, that we can't discuss that operation with you," he stated, knowing that, in
reality, he didn't need to say anything. Alex Wentworth knew far too much about Ragols secrets already, and was merely using them for minor confirmation.

"Of course," he agreed with a smile. "I understand completely. Non-disclosure agreements. Given the potential of the organic technology the
creature offers, and the risks it poses, I can understand why Ragol would want to keep it quiet." For a brief moment, the smile became slightly more of a
smirk, just long enough for the pilot and captain to recognize it, before the more social, friendly smile returned. "Anyway, this group, these Children of
Falz, as they call themselves... odd name really... it seems that Miss Lockley came to their attention after the event. And for whatever reason, she is the
focus of their interest. Not any of the other people down there, just her. If they're as violent as evidence suggests, I'd rather not have them
threatening New Wales, or Crey Industries."

Chris took several steps closer, now standing right in front of the mans desk. "Then give them no reason to look here," he suggested. "Even if
her family has survived, there's a very good chance Fiona won't want to stay here. She'll likely take up the fresh start we can offer her. In
space, away from New Wales, we draw this groups attention." He resisted the urge to add 'if they even exist', merely giving the man a steady look.
"Let us find her family and be on our way. The problem is out of your hair, nothing to worry about."

Leaning back in his chair, Alex looked at Duskwalkers captain for a long moment, tapping a finger against the desk. "That's quite a risk you're
taking Captain. These men have killed before," he pointed out.

Shrugging, Ben stepped up and stood next to Chris, a faint smirk on his face. "Nothing too unusual there. And she's part of our crew."

"We count that as being worth the risk," Chris finished, smiling.

For a long moment, the Crey executive said nothing. After nearly a minute, he nodded, before taking a data crystal from his desk and tossed it to Chris.
"All the data on her family," he said. "Her mother passed away twenty years ago, she was buried in a cemetery north of the city. It's still
intact. Her sister married, and now lives in Mahoron Tower. I have people informing her of Miss Lockleys rescue as we speak."

Chris looked at the crystal for a moment, then put it away. Next to him, Ben scowled slightly. "Now, and not a month ago?"

"We wanted to be certain of the situation first," Alex replied, his smile returning.

"And if she wants to leave?" the pilot asked.

"Then she's free to do so," he answered. "And with that... I'm afraid I have a meeting in a few minutes, so I won't be able to speak
with you any longer. The guards outside will show you to the elevator," he said, standing up.

Both men shook the executives hand, keeping the situation polite. "Thank you for your assistance," Chris commented.

"And thank you for yours," Alex replied. Quietly, they turned and left, finding a guard waiting outside for them. Neither man said anything until
they were in the elevator and on their way down to the lobby.

Putting his hands in his pockets, listening to the rather catchy elevator jingle, Chris glanced over at Ben. "You know, usually I'm the one that has
the temper," he pointed out, getting an amused snort from his friend. "No, I'm serious. You've had to pull the damn Diggers Nerve Pinch on
me."

Snorting again, louder this time, Ben shrugged. "What, I'm not allowed to get pissed off from time to time? Saying he couldn't let Fiona
leave..."

"He was playing us," Chris replied. "He wanted to confirm some details, nothing more. I don't even know how much we actually told him, or
what we even confirmed... I hate cloak and dagger shit." He sighed, looking up at the camera in the corner. "And when we mention this to Amy..."

Growling, Ben closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She'll send a report back to Ragol," he finished. "He's using us as
messengers." Opening his eyes, he looked over at Chris. "Yeah, I hate the cloak and dagger nonsense too," he said.

Reaching into his pocket, Chris pulled out his comm-link and tapped in a command. A moment later, a tiny hologram appeared above it, showing a flat screen
image of Amy. "Hey guys. Any news?" she asked

"Something like that," he replied with a grimace. "Head on back to the ship. There's things we need to talk about."

***